#but god i'm so tired of blaming myself for the fact that i lost the genetics lottery in my family on this front

[dredshirtroberts]

There are some things I don't think I will ever be able to forgive my parents for.

The internal voice in my head that blames my pain on what i did or didn't do - mainly didn't do, because of course if i moved around more i wouldn't be injured (let's just conveniently ignore/forget most of my injuries happened while at my most active). And obviously i don't move around enough because 1) they didn't see it and 2) i'm fat (derogatory).

This is, of course patently incorrect. first of all i am shaped like a gravitationally-powered time piece and have been since i was young. But apparently that is enough to be deemed "fat" by my family since i grew tits at age 9-10. Like and fat isn't a bad thing?? and you can be healthy and active while fat??? and i was! i was very active and...well i can't say healthy during that period of time because i was actively starving most of it because - as i was perceived as fat - i was berated about my food intake (at *minimum* it was commented on snidely) and constantly monitored about what i could have and when i could have it. My parents were on yo-yo diets constantly during my teen years when i was running Multiple Miles A Day, at minimum 3 days a week, or swimming actively anywhere from 2 hours a day 3 days a week to 3 hours a day nearly 5 days a week.

My knee blew out and swelled up to 2x its size while i was a councilor in training at a summer camp for 2 weeks. My shoulder blew out mid lap, mid practice and i finished the practice before i mentioned it and it *was* x-rayed but i never found out what happened to it. If mom heard back about it, she never told me. I *fell off* horses TWICE, once getting kicked in the ribs at 10, and the second one i tore a huge chunk of skin off my hand and had scrapes on my back from getting dragged through gravel. AFTER WHICH I WENT TO SWIM PRACTICE. And then there was the tap dancing which i did *along side training for half-marathons*. WITH MY PARENTS. I DID THIS WITH THEM. THEY KNEW I DID THIS MUCH.

but because i tended to stay pretty stationary at home (god why wouldn't i? even if i wasn't fucking DISABLED with a CHRONIC PAIN ISSUE from my CONNECTIVE TISSUE DISORDER (as of yet unnamed specifically - i *really* need to get my shit together and see a doctor) I was exhausted because i WAS RUNNING SEVERAL MILES IN THE MORNING AND THEN EXPECTED TO TEACH MYSELF MY OWN FUCKING SCHOOL WORK.

but yeah i was lazy and didn't move around enough and so any injuries i got, or stiffness and pain when i moved from my stationary position was my fault. My knee wouldn't have blown out if i didn't sit with it tucked up underneath me. My shoulder wouldn't have blown out if I...idk been more careful??? doing the same stroke i'd been doing the same way for several years at that point?

I walked FIVE MILES A DAY, EVERY DAY, FIVE DAYS A WEEK. at my most recent job *just to get to the damn job*, let alone the 10-12 HOURS ON MY FEET WHILE THERE before i burnt out (gee I WONDER WHY) and thankfully shortly thereafter i got a car so I could make it to the shifts I could still work at that point, ones that got shorter and shorter as my body just failed right out from underneath me. IN FUCKING FOOD SERVICE. (notably a rather physically intensive job)

My pain during my desk job years was from sitting still too long. My pain during training during my athletics was from not stretching enough, not being careful enough. My pain during the physically taxing jobs was because i didn't move enough during the day so of course i was going to hurt myself.

no matter what i did. it was my fault i hurt. it couldn't ever be that there was something wrong with me that they needed to help me look into. And i internalized the shit out of that.

I tweaked my back the other day. Don't know what i did. it's been like 3 days now, and i move really stiffly because it's my lower back, near my hips and tailbone, and it hurts to move. i've taken meds 2ce today and i am *really bad* at taking meds during the day. i stretch during the day, i get up and move around as best i can - i might not do it as often as i probably *should* but if you were in pain you'd do your best not to move as much too! it hurts!

but gosh if i only moved more, lost weight, could turn straw into gold and spin my hair into a rope to reach the stars. Then I wouldn't be in pain and really it's my own fault. Right?

[coco-loco-nut]

Hii!

Can I please ask for an angsty fic with Max, where the reader defends him from Jos after not finishing his race in Melbourne...idk if you remember when Max kept his helmet for four hours after a race because he was afraid of what Jos would have done to him after not winning...and the reader basically tells Jos to get lost even if she's like 5'4 and definitely not as intimidating as them both lol.

And then maybe after the win in Suzuka, they "reconcile" but she still reminds him to act right around her boyfriend, who's now a man and not a little boy he could pressure like he once did.

Sorry if it's too long!! Thanks for taking your time and reading my request!

Guard Dog

Pairing: Max x Reader

Summary: You are sick and tired of watching Max take Jos' shit

TW: verbal abuse

A/n: thank you soooo much for the rec, I love writing these out so much <3

requests open masterlist

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

"Maxie... are you okay?" you wait patiently by the door to his driver's room, careful not to barge in like Jos would, as you have for the past year since you first witnessed Jos' beratement of his son. He is sitting on the couch with his helmet between his hands. The fire causing an unpleasant start to the race, and you are just glad you got here first.

"I'm okay," his voice cracks and you step into the room, closing the door behind you. "I know it wasn't my fault, but I can't help but feel like it was my fault," Max looks in your eyes, the fire brewing behind them. You were genuinely the sweetest girl he's ever met, and to get you mad took a lot. God help you if Jos shows up, you are tired of Max feeling bad even when he podiums.

"You're right, you didn't do anything wrong, the car failed you today," you stay calm, sitting beside him and cuddling into him. Max stays quiet, enjoying your warmth, and decompressing from the start. He can understand why the fans were so happy to see him lose, in fact, if he wasn't himself, he would join them. No, the fear of his father is what has him on edge. Rightfully so, because a few seconds later the door is slammed open again.

"Max, what the hell did you-" Jos starts and you launch yourself off the couch. Jos and Max were big guys, and you were average height for a woman, 5'6 or so, but you didn't seem like it in that moment.

"Shut the hell up and leave. You have nothing useful to say and you are going to shift blame to Max who had NO fault in the DNF," you snarl, setting yourself up as a barrier between the two, Jos still in the doorway and Max on the couch.

"Girl, I don't know who you think you are, but I am Max's father, and I can-," You cut Jos off before he can continue.

"No, you aren't his father. A father doesn't talk to his son like that, you are simply a man who shares the same last name as Max. A father is someone like Carlos Sainz Sr or Lawrence Stroll. No, you are a man- sorry a boy in a man's body- who can't cope with the fact that he doesn't race anymore and wants the man who shares the same last name with him to be impossibly perfect and win every single race, even when the car breaks down." You sneer at the man. "You need to leave, before I call security and make them remove you," you don't back down, instead you step closer. Max watches in both awe and fear.

"I-"

"Leave, Jos, now. Don't make me repeat myself," you say, practically slamming the door behind him. You turn around and look at Max, seemingly calm and normal. He looks at you bewildered.

"That was the sexiest thing ever. Thank you, Schatje, you didn't have to do that," Max hugs you, a large weight off of his shoulders.

"Of course I did, who else will be your guard dog?" You smile at him, squeezing him tighter. "Now, get changed and get back to the garage," you tell Max, stepping out to the room. You let out a deep breath, surprised with how you treated Jos and stood up for Max. A couple minutes later, Max rejoins you, quickly stopping inside hospitality for a snack.

The two of you avoid Jos, going extremely low contact, not that he was trying to. Jos would never admit it, but he was embarrassed at how you spoke to him, and his retreat allowed him to ignore it. Instead, you and Max enjoyed your time together in Japan. The both of you were aware Jos was there, but chose to ignore it. After Max won, Jos warily approached the two of you.

"I wanted to congratulate you on winning. You drove well," Jos says stiffly, silently calling for a truce. You let Max take the lead on the conversation.

"Thank you," he says, feeling like a little boy again, but accepting the temporary truce.

"It was good seeing you Jos, but we need to go," you interject, sensing the still tense atmosphere. The older man, still a little scared of you despite your sweet demeanor, lets you go, not quite willing to cross you again.

"Love you, Maxie"

"Love you too, Schatje,"

[hollywoodxwhore]

Ours | Chapter 18

Colson x Presley (Original Female Character)

Synopsis: Presley and Colson fell in love accidentally, but they were meant to be. Now that all the obstacles have been removed, they're moving in together in LA. Now, they have all the time in the world for Colson to teach Presley all of the things he knows. This fic is the sequel to Mine, which can be found in my masterlist!

Warnings/Content: A little more angst but it's wrapping up I promise, mentions of suicide, mentions of panic attacks, mentions of not eating due to mental health issues, smut (18+), oral sex (f receiving), desperate sex, col coming in his pants, swearing, squirting, fluffy sweet aftercare

This is the final chapter of Ours (excluding the epilogue but it's super short) and I'm so grateful for everyone's love and feedback for this series. If you don't already know, there will be a third part and I'm so excited to write it. I hope you all love it!

Presley

I can’t believe I lost it that badly. 

I sleep for hours on Colson’s chest. When I wake up, he’s asleep, too, and I study his face, memorizing his features over and over again. The tightness in my chest is not normal. This is not just depression or anxiety. This is something deeper, and that really scares me. 

I wish like hell that it was easy to move past it, but how am I ever supposed to let go of the fact that if I hadn’t left Colson, he would never have put the wheels in motion to kill himself? How can he say it isn’t my fault – how can anyone say that? I know they’d all blame me if Colson had gone through with it. I can see it now – everyone trying to be sensitive at the funeral, but someone would lose it, point their finger at me, and say, “She’s the reason he killed himself!” 

God, I don’t want to have another panic attack. I’m already so weak and exhausted from the first one. My entire body hurts, my head throbbing. I haven’t eaten anything today, nor have I had any water, and I feel like almost every physical need anyone could have is plaguing me right now. 

But I can’t let go of my husband.

My mouth is so dry that I can barely breathe. My stomach twists with nausea, an ironic reaction to hunger, and my bladder is so full that it hurts. But despite all this, despite knowing my water bottle is right there on the table, that a toilet is right around the corner, I can’t get off of Colson. Jesus. Am I going to piss myself lying here because I’m so attached? Get it together, I say to myself, and even though it makes my blood pressure hike, I extricate myself from Colson’s arms. 

After emptying my bladder, I chug down half of my water bottle before taking a breath, and then I drink the rest of it. Colson starts to stir as I drink. He blinks his eyes open and then looks down at himself, eyes widening a little with worry when he doesn’t see me. He snaps his head over and relaxes as soon as he sees me. “Hey,” he rasps sleepily. 

“Hey,” I say, voice small. 

“Did you get some sleep?” he asks. He looks so endearing and adorable right now, his bleached hair all fluffy from sleep, his long eyelashes shadowing tired eyes. 

I nod. “Yeah. I’m starving, though,” I admit.

Guilt crosses Colson’s features for a millisecond. “You haven’t been eating,” he remarks, almost as if he’s just now realizing it himself. With that, he hops off the couch and lifts me into his arms. I can’t help but smile a little, wrapping my legs around his waist and my arms around his neck like a koala bear. 

Colson sets me on the countertop and pecks my lips softly before turning to open the fridge. “What sounds good?” 

I’m weirdly relaxed, despite what happened earlier. I’m not hiding anything from Colson anymore, and that in and of itself is a relief. “Anything,” I say.

Colson nods. “Got it.” 

Colson makes me crispy chicken cutlets, a salad, and garlic mashed potatoes. I’m shocked by how much I’m actually able to eat – two full plates. The food is incredible and I feel so much better after eating. We eat on the floor in the living room with a candle lit, passing a joint back and forth. We talk about everything but the bad shit, and before I know it, Col has me laughing and smiling. For the first time in forever, it finally feels like us again. Our journey is far from over, but what I do know is that I don’t have to do it alone. 

The next day, I sleep in. I wake up to the sound of Colson’s voice. He’s on the phone, clearly trying to be quiet, but I know he’s still in our bedroom because he didn’t want to leave me. 

“Thank you. Alright, bye,” he says, ending the phone call. He glances over at me and when he sees I’m awake, he comes over and crawls back into bed. “Hi, love,” he murmurs, wrapping around me.

“Hey,” I say, rubbing the sleep from my eyes. “Who was that?”

“My psychiatrist,” he says. “We’re going to go see her today and get you some help, okay?” His voice is gentle and so kind, and even though it's a little scary, I relax. 

“You’ll be with me, right?” I ask.

Colson nods, nuzzling into my shoulder. “Of course. I’m not going anywhere.”

We’re quiet for a moment and then I roll over in his arms and look up at him. He wears nothing but a pair of boxer briefs that hug his butt perfectly. I haven’t felt desire since the first day he came home, but all at once, it rushes in so intensely that I feel a little dizzy with it. Using my legs, I pull his thigh between mine. Colson arches a brow but lets me pull him closer.

“Baby?” he questions. He doesn’t need to, though. He knows me well enough to know exactly what I want. His throat bobs as he swallows. “Are you sure?”

I nod, suddenly feeling absolutely desperate for him. “I miss you,” I say quietly. “Just want to be close to you.”

“Don’t do it because you think it’s what I want,” he murmurs, tucking my hair behind my ear. “Just holding you is enough for me.”

Boldly, I slip my hand between our bodies and grip his cock, already hardening in his boxers. I arch a brow, smirking just a little. His words definitely don’t match his body’s reaction. “Well, it’s not enough for me,” I say, and with that, my husband’s eyes darken. I can see the moment when he gives in. 

“Then get on your back,” he says. I do as I’m told and Colson instantly disappears beneath the blankets. I let out a shaky breath in anticipation of what’s coming. Colson slips between my thighs, big hands lifting each one over his shoulder at a time. I fell asleep in a big t-shirt of his and no panties, and when he notices, the breath he lets out is so warm it makes me shiver.

I lift the blankets to look down at him and his eyes lock on mine, his pupils so wide the iris is almost invisible. He brings his gaze to my pussy and bites his lip as he studies me. When his thumb lightly brushes over my clit, my hips twitch and Colson chuckles low. “Sensitive,” he murmurs, and then he presses a kiss to the crease between my thigh and my pussy. I hold a whimper in my throat as my legs start to tremble with anticipation. Just having him between my legs has me so aroused that I’m sure I’m already wet.

Colson presses a tender kiss to my clit, sweet and loving, and the gesture makes my breath catch in my throat. His eyelashes flutter as his eyes close, and the next kiss is open-mouthed and wet and hot, as are the ones that follow. Just his kisses can undo me, can make me so wet that it ruins my panties, and when he kisses between my legs, it heightens the experience tenfold. Sparks fly, electricity zinging through my body at the sensations his talented mouth can bring.

When my husband moans with my pussy in his mouth, my spine arches off the bed and my hands fist the sheets, effectively dropping the blanket. I can't see him anymore so I scramble to push the comforter out of the way. The morning sunlight peeks around the curtains, illuminating his white-blonde hair and eyelashes. He is a devil that looks like an angel when he takes care of me and I don’t think I’ll ever get over the way he affects me.

I gasp when Colson’s hands brace beneath my thighs and shove them up, lifting my lower half off the bed. His dark eyes lock on mine as he moves his tongue lower, swiping over everything before returning to my clit. I tense up, a little surprised. We’ve of course had anal, but he’s never had his mouth anywhere near my ass. I never saw the appeal; why do that when I have a much more sensitive clit right there? But it’s so erotic and almost…forbidden and it takes my breath away. Colson repeats his motions, moaning against me before his tongue lands on my clit and twists around it in circles.

“H-holy fuck,” I choke out, shoulders lifting off the bed in response to the pleasure. My stomach is rock hard with tension, so hard that I’m starting to tremble. Colson can’t stop moaning against my pussy and the vibrations are making me see stars. The room heats and my vision starts to flutter around the edges. I’m practically hyperventilating as he has his way with me, showing me just how perfectly he can use his mouth.

Half of me wants to beg him to put his fingers inside me, but I’m curious to see if he can actually get me to come without putting anything inside of me. If he can do it with just his mouth. As his plush lips close around my swollen clit and suck as his tongue continues to work, my stomach starts to knot up, telling me that, yes, my husband can make me come with just his mouth.

“Cols,” I practically wheeze, grabbing a handful of his hair. “Holy shit, baby, ‘mgonna come.” My words slur together; I’m drunk with pleasure as my pussy starts to clench around nothing. My heart races and I let my head fall onto the pillow as tingles creep up my spine and my stomach ties itself in such a tight knot that it almost hurts. And then, the knot explodes in my belly as I let it all go.

My body moves erratically beneath his mouth, even as his hands hold my hips down. I sob at the pleasure, hips twitching upwards as my clit throbs on his tongue. I’m just starting to come down when Colson comes up, slotting himself between my legs. He presses his clothed cock to my aching clit and grinds forward. I look up at his face and notice how tightly his brow is knitted together. His lips are parted as he pants and the way he ruts against me is so familiar that I reach down and grab his ass to help work him towards his own rapture.

“Fuckfuckfuuuuuck,” he chokes out. “Baby–” I watch his face, reveling in his unabashed pleasure as he comes from nothing other than giving me head and a little bit of grinding. It will never not shock me how I, some girl who was a virgin less than a year ago, can get Machine Gun Kelly, a well-known sex god, to come in his pants. And I love every fucking second of it.

Colson relaxes on top of me, our hearts fluttering against each other, and then he lifts his head to kiss me hard, so hard that my pussy already aches for him again. “I’m not done, I promise,” he breathes. “Just couldn’t help it. Your taste, your sounds, fuck.” His words melt into a moan. “Love you so fuckin’ much.”

“Get on your back,” I say, touching his cheek. Colson’s eyes sparkle. He loves when I ride him and I love it just as much, but I’ve got something else in store for him. I’ve been doing my research, or at least I was before everything went to shit. There’s something I’ve been wanting to try forever and now I finally have that chance.

I drop my shirt to the floor and help him out of his boxer briefs, and for a second, I’m tempted to slip my hand into his boxers, to feel what I did to him. Jesus, Colson has made me filthy. I drop the soiled boxers onto the floor and climb over top of him. There’s still cum on his tip and smeared slightly on his belly, and my eyes darken. I can’t help myself, moving down his body to lick up the leftover spend from his skin. Colson shudders and moans and his cock twitches, already hard again. 

He reaches for me and I come up, but then I turn around. “Holy fuck,” Colson says when he realizes what I’m doing. I smirk as I crawl over his body and position his cock at my entrance. It’s a little difficult to situate at first; I’m so used to the way he fits perfectly when I’m riding him the other way. Reverse cowgirl is more difficult than it looks but I’ll do it for Col. 

With his help, I finally sink down on him, and while it isn’t the most comfortable position for me, I don’t care. Because Colson’s hands have a bruising grip on my hips and he’s already moaning shamelessly behind me. I tip my head back, letting my long hair graze his chest, and he grips onto it, tugging. I moan at the slight roughness and try to move, but it’s tough, until Colson bends his knees, giving me his thighs to use for leverage. 

When I start to grind back and forth, Colson curses loudly. “Th-that’s it, baby, h-holy fuck,” he says shakily. “So good, Pres. so fucking – oh shit – perfect.” 

I love how powerful I feel, unwinding my man the way I am. “Colson,” I moan as pleasure starts to creep in. I won’t be able to come like this, but that’s okay. 

After a few minutes, Colson slows my motions, and I look back at him over my shoulder. He grins at me. “As much as I love this, I want to see your face,” he confesses, and I melt a little as I lift myself off of him and turn around. But instead of letting me ride him, Colson flips our bodies over and settles his weight onto me. With a slow grind of his hips, his cock slides back inside of me until it’s home. His hands slide beneath my ass and squeeze, pulling me closer to him, and with his eyes on mine, he starts fucking me hard.

Pleasure rushes in so fast that I can’t stop the moans bubbling out of me. I can feel myself getting wetter around him as he pounds into me, our skin slapping together. “Colson,” I whimper. “Fuck, baby–”

“Yeah,” Colson grits out, squeezing my ass even harder. “Fuck, I love you. So good to me.” He presses kisses along my collarbone and over my shoulder. My eyes are practically crossed at this point, the pleasure so overwhelming in the best way.

“H-harder,” I manage to choke out, because I know he can go harder. He lets go of my ass and lifts up a little, planting his hands beside my head. He brings his legs up and bends them, sliding them beneath my thighs, and then he starts to fuck me at lightning speed. “Oh god,” I wail, digging my nails into his shoulders as he absolutely pounds into me. I’m going to feel this later and I love every second. 

He keeps up his rapid pace but manages to get a hand between us to play with my clit, and that’s what sends me over the edge. A scream rips from my throat as I come so hard that I swear to god I black out for a second. It’s the best orgasm I’ve had in a long time, and Colson always makes me come hard. With that, Colson flips me over, lifts my hips, and slams back inside me. I scream again, squirting all over his cock and thighs, and Colson growls, “Fuck yes.”

I’m practically drooling on the bed at this point, Colson's hands being the only things keeping my hips up. “I’m close,” he manages. “Fuck, Presley, oh my god–” He thrusts four more times, slamming his hips against my ass, and then he seizes up with a gasp as he buries himself as deep as he can possibly go, painting my insides white. His orgasm triggers one more of my own, and that’s it – my legs give out and I splay on the bed helplessly, unashamedly. 

Colson stays flush against me for a few moments as we both come down, breathing hard and sweating. “Christ. That was fucking amazing,” he says, voice gravelly as he kisses my shoulder.

“Yes it was,” I croak, my walls still fluttering around him. When he pulls out, I can’t help but whine, and instantly, his cum trickles out of me. I shiver at the feeling and Colson moans, sitting back on his heels to watch it happen. He drags two fingers over my pussy and I hiss in overstimulation. 

“Sorry,” he rasps, pulling his hand back. “Shower?”

“Shower,” I say weakly, reaching for him. 

In the shower, Colson is pure love and care and safety. He hums while he washes every inch of my body with loving, gentle touches, and I let him. He washes himself quickly and steps out of the shower first, holding up a warm towel for me. He wraps me up in it and hugs me tightly, pressing a long kiss to the top of my head. He takes his time drying me off, too, looking up at me with love in his eyes. I let myself be cared for; we both know I need it right now. 

When we’re both dry, Colson scoops me up and carries me back to bed. “Your appointment is in about an hour and a half,” he says. “Will you get dressed while I make you something to eat?”

I hesitate. I’m scared of him leaving the room, leaving me alone. His expression softens and he thumbs my cheek. “Let’s both get dressed and go to the kitchen together,” he says. I nod gratefully. I’m sitting on the bed and he’s standing, but I reach for him. He hugs me, wrapping long arms around my body, and I slide mine around his neck, holding him close. “I love you, Presley,” he murmurs. 

“I love you too, Colson,” I mumble against his neck, closing my eyes. After a few moments, I let him go and he smiles softly at me. We both get dressed and head to the kitchen where Colson lifts me onto the countertop and presses a kiss to my nose. I can’t help but giggle and he winks at me as he turns to the fridge for food.

As my husband makes us breakfast, I feel a wave of calmness wash through me. Everything is going to be okay. Colson is going to make sure of that.

Taglist: @triplexdoublex@jaxbreaker@mgklove99xx@jinx-on-mars-19xx@iamnotanearthlingmotherfucker@anonymousme86@whiteleoqueen@feroniakutenpuu@hxllywoodwhxree

[maelstrom-of-emotions]

OMG YOU GAVE US A GOLD MINE. I refuse to limit myself!

ALL SIX! EXPLAIN YOURSELF!

Ahaha, I've been called to the hearing so fast, eh? I don't even have a lawyer. Jokes aside, thank you for the ask!

Alright, in order:

10% rule: I know there are two of them, but the ideas are different, I promise! I based this off of the thing we learned in Botany. The 10% rule which states that only 10% of the energy from one trophic level (like plants) is passed on to the next level (like herbivores), while the rest is lost as heat, waste, or used by the organism itself. And my stupid brain got another idea.

I haven't worked out all the parts yet, but it follows Naruto and Sasuke, where Naruto is emotionally burnt out by giving too much of himself and Sasuke's been hurt by the world. Naruto's always been the one to carry the emotional load, always overcompensating, but never receiving the same in return. Sasuke's tired, and he's developed a a certain numbness to giving and receiving love - a poorly written metaphor for this rule of ecology, like the energy lost at each trophic level.

The story is just about the realization that love is all about balance. That even though some energy is lost in the process, the ten percent they choose to give can build something glorious, something sustaining, a garden worth growing. Where you realize that love doesn't drain you, but can fuel you in the right proportions.

dressed to disaster: This is actually a Boy Meets World Shory fic, where it's based off the fact that I don't know what the story is about, but that I have a first line, which is: You'd think that after causing disasters and being a disaster himself, Shawn would know how you dress to one.

I have no clue where to go with this one, I wrote a bit more about him attending Cory's wedding, and going somewhere with it. I'm entertaining time travel, but nothing solid yet.

THOUGH, this story has another branch where it's SasuNaru, where I thought about how after someone makes a comment about how Naruto always dresses like a homeless street urchin + how he always wears orange, do you not know another color, Uzumaki? He's used to it, but when they mention it's weird how Sasuke hangs out with him as Sasuke is always in fashionable clothes (and rich, in this story) it's a very stark difference.

The comment nags at him, and so then, Naruto starts to panic. Especially as he somehow - for plots reasons - starts to think that Sasuke will never see him as a romantic partner, if Naruto doesn't dress up like it. And so, he ends up on Ino's door, wailing his little heart out, and she and Sakura decide to help him. Woo-hoo, everyone's love to hate it makeover montage.

And Naruto hates it from the very beginning. He's used to baggy clothes and these are all form fitting and the jeans fucking itch and the shoes hurt. And it's such a pain to make sure they don't get ruined. And, well, while that crisis is going on, Sasuke's jealous because Naruto's dressing up for somebody and he doesn't know who and whoever made Naruto think he had to change himself was going to die—

And so, idiots in love, everyone's favorite. Very cliché, I know. But Pinterest is the reason it happened. Blame it. Don't come for me, I will cry.

shory and no sailors: I have nothing to defend myself with. Literally a crackfic idea because ever since I heard the ship name I thought about sailors on shores, leaving the dock. And well, I just wrote that down. God knows what I'll do with it.

serpents in eden's embrace: Ooh, so this one is interesting. Because it is FNAF W.I.P and I have two different-but-also-the-same-thing-kinda idea for it.

a) The Bite of 83 does happen, but it doesn't happen to Michael's little brother, but instead, the brother of an OC who needs therapy. This changes everything. Michael is thrown for a shock, as they had been planning it and now he's dealing with the guilt that his brother would have died. This sets off the domino chain as Michael will do anything to keep his siblings alive, even if it means turning a blind eye to missing children's reports and all evidence pointing towards their own basement.

b) Michael gets thrown back into his past body, where he swears to save everyone. But day by day, his priorities dwindle. For one, William is suddenly so much more nicer now that Michael is becoming the golden son, and his tasks falter. So maybe he can't save all the kids. What does it matter? Until the last tackles down to Henry's daughter and his own siblings. I just wanted to delve into the toxic household. When people do back in time, when we wish that we, ourselves good go back in time - because for me, reading Time Travel Fix-It is about taking canon to the back, sure; but also fulfilling that urge to go back in time and fix all my past mistakes, to try to prove myself that if I could just go back, everything would be fine - and the truth is, we romanticize it. The situation sucked, but now that you're out of that situation or grown from it, you can see all the ways you would do it now. But, if you're placed back into it, wouldn't you crumble? I wanted to explore that aspect.

the ten percent rule: Not to be confused with 10% rule, I didn't even realize I named it the same thing until I was taking screenshots.

Three ideas for this:

a) The deep seated trauma that makes up the behavior to give just enough effort to maintain relationships—friendships, romantic relationships, or family bonds—but never truly committing beyond 10% of themselves.

b) My parents own saying which is: always give just 10% more than what’s expected of you, and you’ll be successful - causes 100% more burnout.

c) 10 percent rule is a part of an underground code used by criminals, and people of the black market. It's a law, only revealing 10% of the truth to keep people guessing or safe. Which makes it worse because as you try to unravel a mystery, the rule means that nothing is ever as it seems—every truth has a hidden layer, and every person holds something back.

we're fated to unravel, love: Most self-indulgent. Magic AU! Where Sasuke and Naruto are in an arranged marriage and have been married for a decade. In this, Sasuke is the leader of a clan and is known for his battle/ destructive magic (shut up, no one talk about the name) and his strategies.

He's married to Naruto, the person everyone thinks it just wasting life way, tinkering with paper and runes. Naruto's an inventor, and he makes magic do what he wants to do basically. But, Sasuke thinks Naruto is childish and naive due to his sunny disposition and brash manners - and due to the public poisoning his view, his own advisors thinking that the marriage is to “put Naruto on a leash” - and since the idiot doesn't talk to his fucking husband, or spend time with him, the misunderstanding stays.

Naruto's hurt. Because he wasn't expecting love, but he thought he could have friendship. He feels lost amongst the ugly glares and even uglier rumors. And just stays away tinkering with his inventions, feeling hurt with every moment that passes, with every dismissing word that passes Sasuke's lips. He gives back good as he gets at first, but that doesn't do anything but worsen the rumors. And Naruto doesn't want deranged-fangirl assassins to kill him on a mission to “save their Sasuke-kun” so he withers away. Closing himself off. Losing hope. And thinking himself foolish to believe that there could be love in the first place. After all, isn't it the hopeless romantics that carry the most hope.

And then a war happens. And a bunch of people die. And they win nearly, by the skin of their teeth, thanks to Naruto's inventions - and oh, look, Sasuke's paying attention now - but it's a pyrrhic victory. So, Naruto creates a seal that'll send them two years back into the past, just before the war begins, so they can be prepared and stop it. Only, something goes wrong, and they get send back ten years instead of one, to their six month wedding anniversary. Naruto is disheveled but resolves to make the situation work, focused on stopping the war.

And Sasuke, being the whipper than whipped cream fucker that he is, is just besotted by his husband, and wants to fix everything. Because fuck the war, he wants Naruto to love him. Cue Naruto just interpreting everything Sasuke's doing as "part of his efforts for the war" even though it makes no sense.

Like, oh, Sasuke's hanging out with him now in his messy workplace? Well, it must be to plan about the war.

Sasuke offers to make Naruto dinner? Naruto, squinting at the strange ingredients on the counter, assumes it’s a working model for cooking up a strategy for the war. Sasuke buys Naruto flowers? Naruto, deep in thought, believes they represent the nations Sasuke wants to ally with.

Sasuke rubs Naruto’s shoulders, trying to ease his stress? Naruto, staring into the distance, mutters about how Sasuke’s clearly practicing pressure points for war interrogation techniques.

Sasuke literally pins Naruto to the wall, about to kiss him. Naruto, thinking he’s about to hear a covert mission briefing, goes, “Oh, is this an intimidation technique. Cause I have a device that'll work.”

Sasuke proposes to Naruto in the middle of a crowded square, flowers and a ring in hand. Naruto, completely stone-faced, whispers, “Ah, I see. You're making me the figurehead of a new war alliance."

I'M SORRY, THIS WAS LONGER THAN EXPECTED. YOUR HONOR, I'M A FOOL. I DEMAND MY LAWYER.

[raccoon-eyed-rebel]

Worth it

Masterlist

A/N: More fluff? More fluff! Based off this horrible little shitpost from yesterday. So here we have 16 y/o Walter, and his 10-ish year younger, annoying baby brother Mikey. God help me, what have I become?

Characters: Walter Marshall, littlebrother!Mikey, OFC

Summary: Walter is babysitting his little brother Mikey while their mom is away for the weekend. He's also on a date...

Word count: 1.3k

Warnings: Fluff. Vague hint at 'underage'(?) sex (They're both sixteen.)

@geralts-yenn @deandoesthingstome @keanureevesisbae @fvckinghenrycavill @ellethespaceunicorn @peaches1958 @sillyrabbit81 (I'm almost sorry to bother y'all with this)

“Walter! Walter, look!” The only thing I can do is glare at the little kid jumping around the room. My date is already distracted by the unruly projectile that is my baby brother. She was seconds away from kissing me, for fuck’s sake.

“Oh my god! Is that your little brother?” Oh, fuck no! Not again. The little bastard always does this. Whenever I have a girl over, Mike just has to swoop in and steal the show. They all think he’s adorable. And they’re not wrong, but they’re also not stuck with him every goddamn day.

“Yeah,” I growl. “Mikey, you’re supposed to be in bed. Get lost.”

“I can’t sleep!” Of course he can’t. You need to sit still for longer than thirty seconds to be able to sleep, and Mikey just can’t do that. It also may or may not be slightly before his bedtime on weekends, but I just want the couch and the TV – and Christina – to myself for a few hours.

“Mike, for fuck’s sake! Come on, back to bed!” It’s a good thing mom is not here to hear that language, because I’d be in trouble. In fact, I'm always in trouble. I'm already banned from going out tonight because mom decided I'd make a fine – free – babysitter. She usually pays me to watch her youngest spawn – of Satan – but there was a homework mishap again – Mike’s doing – and trouble at school means trouble at home. Did I blame the kid? No. He’s my little brother. My annoying, obnoxious, and right now; cock-blocking, little brother.

“No!” Of course not. Because why would this little rat listen to me so I can have a quiet evening with my girlfriend? Who the fuck knows.

“Mike, seriously, get the fuck out of here! Chris, hold on a minute.” I get off the couch to chase after Mikey, but he’s fast.

“Walter,” Chris says as she turns the TV off. It’s a good thing she has the common sense to do that, because that movie was not suitable for a six year old kid. “He’ll get tired.”

“Neveeeeeer!” Mikey says as he runs past her. He’s just doing laps around the living room now.

“He means that.” I slump back on the couch, next to Christina. “Mikey, can you stop screaming, please? And go back to bed.” This kid is exhausting. And he hasn’t even been here for five minutes. He stops running right in front of Chris.

“He wants to kiss you. That’s why I have to go sleep.” The little snitch.

“Is that so?” Chris laughs and looks at me, I can’t do anything other than just shrug. She’s not stupid, she knows I’d be happy to do more than hold hands on this damn couch.

“It’s the weekend. I can stay up until nine.” Chris gives me another look.

“That’s not tr...”

“Walter Marshall, you are a terrible liar!”

“Mum was supposed to take him to grandma!” It’s a weak excuse for sending your baby brother off to bed well before his bedtime, I know that. But I just wanted a few hours to make out with my hot girlfriend, is that so wrong?

Chris quickly covers Mikey’s ears. “Your mom is gone until tomorrow, right? I wouldn’t worry about curfew: My folks are out of town and I’ll happily stay a little longer...” She hesitates for a moment. “Or… Stay the night? But be nicer to your brother, that would really help your case right about now.” I shoot Chris an apologetic grin while I rub the back of my neck. I probably shouldn’t have tried to lock my baby bro away. And he is quite the little charmer, most girls I bring home – there have been like three in the past two years, settle down – love him to bits. He’s a carbon copy of me when I was his age, and not to toot my own horn or anything, but I was fucking adorable. So is Mike. He’s bouncier, though. And impatient, and hyperactive, and loud. Very loud.

“Hey, Mikey, do you want to watch a movie with us?” I say. Yeah, he’ll be in bed a little late, but if it wins me some brownie points with Chris right now...

“Can we watch the Lion King?” And he’s jumping again. Fantastic.

“No, we can’t watch the Lion King,” I say sternly. Not unless we want him to keep running for another hour.

“Why can’t we watch the Lion King, Walter?” Now Chris is the one pouting at me with sad puppy eyes. In fact, both of them are now pouting at me with sad puppy eyes. This is a nightmare.

“Because,” I say as I grab Mike off the floor and put him on the couch, “the songs make him all hyper.” Chris seems to accept that as a valid enough reason.

“How about Ice Age?” The look on Mikey’s face is a very clear ‘yes’.

“Oh, I love Ice Age!” Chris says. Her voice is genuine, as is her smile. She crawls onto the chaise and gets comfortable with a blanket.

“Can I sit with the pretty girl?” Mike doesn’t wait for an answer and just crawls over the couch towards her until he’s in her lap.

I grab some drinks – Chris is smart enough to ask for water, because the first thing Mike yells is: “I want some too!” – and make myself comfortable on the couch a solid Mike-width away from Chris. I manage to still put an arm around her shoulder, although Mikey is trying very hard to push me away. It’ll be fine. He gets snuggly when he gets tired – and he honestly can’t keep this up for that much longer.

“Hey, stop pushing your brother,” Chris says. It’s a fucking miracle, but he actually stops and looks at her.

“What’s your name?” He asks her. Oh she’s falling for those big blue eyes, I can just see it happening.

“Chris,” she says.

“That’s a boy’s name!” Mike laughs.

“It’s not a boy’s name, it’s my name. And it’s short for Christina,” she explains patiently. It’s the kind of patience I have with him on vacations, when I don’t have homework or girls or ice hockey to worry about.

“Christina is a pretty name!” Mike says. That, and forty more things before the opening credits of the movie are through.

He doesn’t make it past the first half with the chatter, though, and just before the end, he’s curled up in Chris’ lap – fast asleep.

Mom comes home just as I have to leave for my hockey game.

“Thanks, Walter,” she says, and I silently thank her for staying out overnight. I head off as fast as possible, because I’m going to be running late if I don’t. Chris is coming with me. She’s already waiting in her car – supposedly to pick me up, but the truth is that her car never left the driveway. It’s a quiet drive, with a couple of awkward flirty smiles as we both remember last night.

We even win the game. That’s an understatement: we demolish the other guys. This is starting to look like a really great weekend! Chris kisses me goodbye when she drops me off back home, and it fucking takes my breath away. I walk into the kitchen ready to tell mom everything about the game, when I hear Mikey’s voice right as I stroll around the corner.

“...and then this morning she made me pancakes!”

“This morning?” Mom asks, and I wish the ground would disappear from beneath my feet. “Mikey, baby, go watch TV.” Mike immediately gets up and disappears into the living room. Mom shuts the door behind him.

“Walter Marshall, you are in some serious shit,” she hisses.

Eh. Worth it.

[feralbeeast]

I don't know what else to do so I'm gonna rant on here since so one really sees my posts anyways.

.

.

.

I'm never going to be enough, for anyone or anything. I'm always going to be a burden whether it be emotionally, mentally, or financially. I dont believe my loved ones when they say im not a burden because i know it isnt true, ive relied on things and people to make me "ok" my entire life. I burnt myself out before I even made it to adulthood and I don't know how to cope, prescription meds made me so fucking sick and vile I don't want and can't afford to go back to that again. The only coping mechanisms I have are isolation and weed, and neither of those are healthy but I guess it's better than self harming or just giving in. And sometimes those don't even work because of how exhausted I am in every. single. way. I'm too tired to keep living like this. I can't be responsible for myself how am i supposed to be responsible for others on top of struggling with myself. Im trying my god damned best and it will never be good enough for the people around me. That's not their fault but Jesus fuxking Christ I need something to change. No matter what happens I'm going to be fuxked, a wreck. And I can't do anything to stop that I just have to accept it and try my best to work with it. I will always hate myself and I've given up on me a very long time ago, but for those I love I will suffer until I physically can't anymore so they dont have to suffer as much. I wish people could see how much I do, how much I try, how much i care and understand.. and if the people I love do read this please don't blame yourself, this is all my fault and my burden to bare. I wish this world was kinder but this is the reality we live in and it's not changing anytime soon, in fact it's getting worse. Especially for people like me who is mentally ill, trans nonbinary, pansexual, and neurodivergent. This society was not meant for me and it never will be I have accepted that a long time ago. Maybe it's better off If I'm just gone. Everything this world has put me through should've killed me a long time ago, im jealous of the dead. I just want everything to stop so I can breathe. And I feel so fucking selfish for even thinking about killing myself but it's always there it's always the backup for me and it always will be, I've tried so fucking hard to be okay for the sake of my partner my cat and my family but im so fucking tired. Sometimes I think about how better off everyone would be if I stayed the "perfect quiet little girl" I was before I stood up for myself and left the overly abusive household I was in. I graduated high school out of spite of my family because they all thought I couldn't do it or I was gonna turn into a druggie like my parents were when they were my age. I'm so fucking jealous that my dad got to escape this world when he did and I wish he took me with him. I'm just, done. I've been living for other people my entire life not one minute of my life was spent just for me and I don't even know how to feel about that, I feel selfish for even wanting to live for me and I feel like an idiot for thinking I even possibly could. I'm going insane and there's nothing anyone can do except watch me burn. I have mourned me almost my whole life, the me you see now is not who I am. I lost myself the day I had to grow up and raise myself before I was even in school.

I wish I had somewhat a normal childhood, I wish I could've enjoyed the time I had. I will never get that time back or those people.

[bunchacrunchcake]

I will tell you about an entire movie that was unnecessary.

There's a really wonderful movie called The Sorcerer. It was shot in the 70s. It's original budget was $14m but it ballooned to $20m because the director got a bit obsessed with shooting it perfectly. Two major studios had to join together to finish it. It barely made any money. The director blamed it on the fact that Star Wars came out the same weekend. But I can tell you that was not the reason.

The movie is extremely well shot and well written. It's well acted, the props and costumes are good. It's by all measures an excellent movie.

It opens up with a few different criminal stories, a Palestinian blowing up an Israeli building, almost getting caught and running away, and a few similar criminal stories. They all end up in the same town in South America living in exile with fake I.D.s

That's the first 3rd of the movie. The rest of the movie they're basically stuck working at a mine, and they have to transport really volatile explosives across a messed up jungle roadway to blow the mine back open after an accident. If they jiggle the trucks too much, the explosives will blow everyone sky high. They're all down and out so they agree to it. No one else in town will risk their life.

And that's it. It could be like Speed, or Crank, or Aguirre The Wrath of God, but honestly it's a ton of shots of the front tire inching over and then backing up and then inching and backing, back and forth so they can just barely clear a bump without blowing the truck up. They do it on a rickety bridge over a rushing river. There was more but I lost interest.

I love boring stuff. One of my favorite books is called How To Look At Things and it teaches you how to look at an X-Ray, and then a quarter, and then a Bible page, and all the info you can get off of it. It was in the $1 rack because it was just too boring for most people.

This movie was boring and pretty pointless. A-List actors who spend most of their time yelling. Beautiful cinematography where most of it is spent on closeups of a truck. The plot lays out 4 really interesting protagonists, and ending aside, we don't really explore them or their position in life at all. They're just rough guys doing a rough job. While the job is insane, it's not exciting. It's hard to explain. They're so close to death and I just couldn't bring myself to care.

And I was wondering how many people in the 70s would pick this movie over Star Wars which has Ewoks and a trash compactor and the force. I'm not saying Star Wars is high art but it's got a lot of stuff going on.

And okay we're watching a movie about a truck, one that they built from old parts! But I had to read the wiki to learn that because it's not really covered heavily in the movie. The art of driving isn't covered. The landscape and dangers aren't talked about. You have no idea how far they've gone and also no sense of the delirium they're feeling not knowing themselves. It's just a lot of starting and stopping without a ton of context. What do you win at the end? A mining company gets to mine again? The characters aren't much better off? Okay I mean not that interesting but we could make it interesting if we explore it... oh okay no we're not doing that.

By all measures it should be an amazing movie.

But I was like why am I watching this.

As a gay art freak I think a lot of neo-cons and centrist libs are really triggered by art that suggests they might be doing something bad. 100% agree with you. And I think that most media criticism in the 2020s has been regressive idiots whining about how much they're persecuted by equality and free speech.

But also as a gay art freak, there's so much bad art out there. So many 5 season netflix shows that would be better as 3 episodes. I don't want to stop people from making art. No art will ever be perfect.

But, if you've gone to the effort of writing an entire movie about driving trucks in the jungle, how are you going to tell that story in a way that is compelling to someone who has never driven a truck and never been to the jungle? Or vice versa how are you going to write that for someone who's completely obfuckingsessed with driving trucks in the jungle. If at the end of the day I come out of the thing as ignorant as I came in, I basically just paid to watch a screensaver.

P.S. Kudos to the director though, it's an insane movie. I do not have the talent to make it.

P.P.S. most of THIS ESSAY IS UNNECESSARY

maybe a crazy take idk but i dont actually think many scenes in stories are 'unneccesary' i think they just make people uncomfortable and rather than try to understand the significance of that discomfort and why the author mightve deliberately inflicted it, decide that discomfort = bad, therefore that scene + the author are both bad

[manicpanic02]

I have no talent and I hate myself for it.

I hate venting on social media but I have no one to talk to.

I'm tired of being useless. I have no hobbies because I have no real talent. I can't do anything right and good enough to be proud of. Everything I was good at I lost the ability to do from elementary school to middle school. I was in choir and I was good. I adutioned and went to a select choir. In middle school I had to quit and now I can't hit any notes or carry a tune.

I did dance for 13 years ballet, tap, and jazz but where I went I could only dance until my senior year which was 2021 and I haven't danced sense. Even if I wanted to find a place I could dance I wouldn't be good enough because my classes where all choreography so I don't have any of the techniques. I didn't even do impressive ballet. I didn't do pointe. I danced in ballet flats.

I tried writing because I have so many ideas but I can't spell and have horrible grammar. I'm currently writing this with a free grammar and spelling checker even using it I still lack clarity of what I'm writing. And I have no skills when it comes to anything art related.

I'm such a creative person and am so frustrated I don't try to learn anymore because I am a perfectionist. I cry and breakdown whenever I can't get something right on the first try. I have ADHD so I don't have the attention span to practice. I'm not that smart all I know are random facts and history facts which are useless and don't count for anything.

I had to quit my job because my mental health couldn't handle it, and god I'm lonely all my friends moved to different states and I met my boyfriend online so he's hours away. I don't have my drivers license because I'm afraid to drive so if I make friends I have no way to get to them. Being this way at 21 makes me feel like a failure. I know my mental and chronic illnesses are not my fault but I do blame myself for everything.

[i-cannot-afford-therapy]

repetition

I'm uninterested. I'm uninterested in existence. It's lost all of its charms, somehow. It keeps repeating itself, going back to the same point, and it's not really the same but it feels the same. It's the same dish served in different bowl, it's the same movie directed by a different director, it's the same person with a different face.

I hate repetition, it wears me down, it tires me out. It gets under my skin, it seeps into my bones, it fills my lungs, barely allowing me to breathe. It bores me. God, it bores me. I don't wanna live through the same day over and over again. I have this unrealistic idea that there must be something new to experience all the time, to keep me interested. My brain is a dopamine seeking hellhole that absolutely refuses to accept the fact that it's simply not possible to find something fresh and stimulating every five minutes. And so it seeks, and so it makes me chase cheap thrills and lean into addictive patterns.

Repetition feels safe. It's familiar. You know what to expect and because of that, it feels like a warm embrace of a loved one. I like getting the same meal every time I go to the local fast food joint. I know that I'm not gonna be disappointed and that knowing feels like reassurance. I may not give myself enough reassurance but this meal does. It's here for me, always the same, never posing a threat, never promising a surprise. If all else fails, this meal will still be there. My favourite movie will still be there. But will the people be there? (Although an even better question to ask in this case would be if I will be there for myself as I have a track record of failing to show up for myself.)

Repetition is necessary. Repetition of brushing teeth, eating, sleeping, showering, waking up, breathing. Repetition of struggling, falling over, getting up and falling over again. Repetition grows into learning. It can grow into connection and trust. Sometimes into resentment, into frustration. And if it reaches the breaking point, it may lead somewhere else, somehwere new.

I like spontaneity but it also scares me. The premise of it is exciting, invigorating. And yet it makes me tremble when I realize that I don't know what's gonna happen. It's ironic, really. I wish to experience the unknown but I don't wanna play by its rules. I wanna see where the night takes me but I don't actually let it take me because I don't want to, I can't let go. I'm holding onto the sense of control with my knuckles white from tension. I don't really know what would happen if I were to let go and that's the most terrifying part. I don't want to experience the worst scenario, I don't want to go through the stages or shame and regret. And yet equally as scary is the thought of succeeding, of it all working out. I may have some idea what I would do in the worst case scenario but I don't have any kind of plan for the scenario where things work out.

Am I tired of repetition and uninterested or am I just scared of breaking my own patterns? Perhaps it's both of those things, going hand in hand. Perhaps I'm in the habit of blaming everything on the repetitiveness of things while failing to recognize the necessity of it and failing to admit my own fault in the lack of taking any action. I must reconcile with the idea of quiet monotony and I must let myself go.

[casspurrjoybell-21]

Pirate Chains - Volume 2 - Against Tides

*Warning Adult Content*

Chapter 3 - Escape - Part 4

Nyx

'Damn it.' 

I felt a burning mix of anger and sadness rising painfully. I felt the tingling in my eyes that announced some tears but I refused to deliver myself to crying. I'm pathetic, that is certainly established but I'd be damned if I don't fucking try to keep the last shred of dignity, if I still have any. I stood there for God knows how long. Thinking so hard that I wasn't able to understand my own thoughts anymore. The only lingering feeling after all of this was the fact that I wanted to disappear. I couldn't think anymore...

All I wanted was to make some sense of my life, now my heart feels so crushed that I felt claustrophobic in this tent. I hurried outside to leave the tent and try to breathe. My mind was very tired and fed up with all of this. I walked towards the sea and felt a small amount of relief when my feet touched the cold water. My senses awakened again and I felt alive for a moment but I still was in the same situation that I desperately needed to get away from. I looked ahead to the glittering waves....

The sea looked so calm and welcoming and I felt a pull to just walk towards it... But a simple thought made me turn around and look at the opposite direction. Home... I looked around me and found no one in the camp.

Few tents scattered around and piles of barrels and boxes. I knew it wouldn't be long before I lost this chance and almost without thinking, my feet started walking.  In no more than few minutes, I reached the end of the beach and the beginning of the forest. I checked that no one was following me, I gathered my determination and stepped forward.

The more I walked, the more I realized how thick this forest was. It had very high trees and a maze of branches but it still managed to look beautiful with the sunlight sneaking through the leaves. Many scary and sad thoughts tried to walk their way back to my mind but I pushed them away and tried to concentrate on finding my way back home.

Esme, even if it's one of the Shadows, if there's a whore-house here then this island has enough people for at least one town. And they certainly have small boats to help them travel to surrounding islands. With enough luck, I'll find someone heading to Eboa and from there I'll do fine...

Yes, this will turn out for the best... Agenor's figure flashed in my memory so vividly that my heart fluttered. I immediately tripped on a branch and sank with hands and knees on the ground.

'Turn around. Go back. Don't betray his trust... When he gets back and finds you gone... He'll be angry and sad. Shut up. I'm not a weak coward and I'm not a replacement for someone else. I'll prove that. I'll prove that I'm strong and not pitiful. Even if there's no one to prove that to.... Well, I'll prove it to myself. So Fuck him and Fuck you conscious.'

I forced my confusing thoughts back and stood up, then scurried forward. I walked forward and forward, unable to go as fast as I wished. I kept ignoring the voice in my head that pleaded for me to look back, to halt and reconsider but it was too late. I was too deep in the forest and even if I wanted to, I would most probably not know how to go back. And why would I want to? What would I be going back to? Agenor is busy with...

A lump formed in my throat and sadness started taking over my mind once more. My God, if this keeps up I'm going to because crazy before making it anywhere. After a while of walking, my body started feeling weak. I was tired and I just remembered that I was barefoot, so I stopped to rest for a minute. My feet hurt and I was hungry but that was the last of my worries. I looked around me.

I avoided ascending a big mountain in order not to get lost but now I'm not sure if that was the best choice. The voice in my head kept taking every chance to blame me and tell me that I was lost but I started walking again and kept moving forward. And just when I was about to lose hope, the sun appeared proud and strong in the sky, announcing that I have gotten out of the forest. I looked around and found the one thing that proved all my doubts about this island, a path.

Between the rocks, grass and shrubs, a path was drawn on the ground, with obvious traces of wheels.  I stood in the middle of the path and looked around, trying to decide on the next direction that I should take.  This is it. One of the ends of this path certainly leads to a town. All I need to do is follow this path and I'll be able to leave all the craziness behind me.

'Go home, Nyx... That's it, keep going and you'll get home.'

I was encouraging myself and trying my best to stay strong. But strangely, I didn't take any step further. Images of Agenor smiling and smirking at me froze me. And because I stopped, I was once more aware of all the hurt that my heart was suffering.

'I don't want to be second.... I can't be. But I love him... I seriously do.'

********

“I'm not going back there Ace.... You have no idea..."

The lump in my throat made me lose my voice.

Ace sighed and tried to sound less angry and threatening.

“Look, I know you were kept against your will on Martina, so this situation was kind of expected. But there's obviously more to this, right Nyx?"

I opened my mouth to answer him.

Explain how evil his Captain was.

Just the thought of it hurts so much...

But all I ended up doing was meeting him in the eye once more and repeating.

“I'm not going back to Martina..."

[hdawg1995]

We didn't play D&D today and life is really twisting my arm so i distracted myself by writing this.

the merchant Fog has a "talk" with the artist Regis.

Artifex had become a hellscape- at least in the eyes and ears of the introverted artist Regis. He was tired of the loud shouting, the panicked merchants and his fellow artists. What were they to do? what were they GOING to do? their Guardian is dead and they decide to act like a elder god was descending onto them. They need to get to the mourning process and skip this constant argument of who saw what and who is to blame. There is someone to blame but what are they going to do to find him? Continue to run around like chickens with their heads cut off. He sighs as the sounds begin to be muffled by the walls of his home. He stands in his kitchen, watching the golden blood of the guardian drift along the river outside his window. its a shame. horrible even. But he can't do anything about it, if he could he would have. But he can't. So he pours himself a cup of coffee and adds some milk to his cup. He'll have to enjoy this moment while it lasts, let his sadness at such a lost wash over him now before-

the door to his home opens and closes. the steps of finely crafted shoes and a cane grow closer as he keeps his back to the doorway. He didn't even get to sip his hot drink.

"Regis, I see your vacation is over." Fog says, his words dripping with joy.

Regis, the defiant man he is, sips his drink. Its warm and soothes a growing ache in his chest.

"You'll meet me at Bastion within two days. I have need of some statues."

Another sip of his drink. He enjoys the aroma of the ground beans and the smoothness of the milk. He might just accept the trade offer to have coffee beans shipped to the forest kingdom.

"Acknowledge me, Regis." Fog's steps grow closer.

"Statues. Bastion in two days. Anything else?" Regis hisses.

"Yes." Fog is behind him now. Regis hates when that man stands behind him. "Might i ask why you and that odd Ignition were meeting about?"

Regis doesn't answer. He takes a sip of coffee and tries not to think about Corvus. tries not to think about their conversation, the offer to model for him for another statue- a actual statue, a actual work of art, sculpted by Regis' hands. Fog drums his fingers on the counter.

"Why does it matter to you?" Regis risks another sip.

"Because he seems to be a distraction. I can't afford to have my biggest money maker distracted."

Fog isn't the kind of man who snoops into other's business unless there is a benefit to his own, so the fact that he is curious about Corvus has Regis on edge. he glances at the man but seeing as he is still behind him, crowding him, his glare is directed no where. He takes another sip of his coffee, unable to enjoy the drink but sensing it annoys Fog is enjoyment enough.

"Well." Fog retracts his hand from the counter. "If you won't tell me, I'll have to speak with him myself. Maybe i could proposition him to join us?" Fog's face is much too close to Regis' ear when he says "And if he declines i can always order another statue."

Regis turns quickly, setting the coffee down and facing his patreon. He opens his mouth to say something- a threat, a defiant comment, anything, but instead he stops as Fog laughs.

"That got your attention. Now, if you would kindly answer me?" Fog smiles.

Regis clenches his fists. He could continue to ignore him, but thats bait now. If ignored, Fog will act on his own and that is dangerous. He sighs and leans back against the counter, folding his arms across his chest defensively. Fog watches him expectantly.

"He isn't going to be a distraction." he says instead. "We talked. We got to know each other-"

"Oh i'm sure he got to know you very well." Fog plays with a curled strand of hair.

"-and if he did that isn't YOUR business." Regis' glare has something to land on this time. Fog chuckles low and levels a glare of his own.

"Certainly not, no. That is between you and your fellow Ignition." Fog stops playing with his hair and reaches out for one of Regis' braids. "But i wonder how much he actually got to know about you." his finger curls around the tip of a braid before Regis snatches his hair away, tucking it behind his head.

You didn't tell him. Why would you? What good would it do if he actually knew you?" Fog retracted his hand and crowded Regis against the counter once more. "I'll take your word that he won't be a distraction. But do remember that no one knows you, Regis. No one but me."

Regis swallows down a hiss as the man leans away and gives him his personal space again. Fog's presence lingers as the man leaves, the cold air sending shivers though him. He takes up the coffee and takes a big gulp of coffee. its no longer hot, but its still warm and it helps fight the chill. the romantic part of his mind lingers on the sensation, on the knowledge that the ground beans came from Corvus' homeland and is now comforting him. and Corvus doesn't even know it. He takes the drink slower and as the sun sets, his house growing dark, he slinks to the floor. He is tired, has to pack a travel bag and write papers, take stock of supplies and review reports. He has a lot to do and no will to do it. he holds the now cool cup in his lap. If he wants to move he'll have to stand but why would he? He feels low and the source of his negative feelings is gone (as is the source of any spark or drive that would motivate him to act) and no one would blame him for sleeping in his kitchen, fully clothed, not having eaten. if anyone comes looking for him they'll assume he was so torn with grief that he could barely function. no one would think he is simply too cold to move now that the sun is gone and his coffee is cold.

So he stays on the floor, closes his eyes, and pretends he is in mourning for the Guardian and that is why he wishes he was in a certain necromancer's arms right now.

[asimpforhotpixels]

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Title: The Creator's Guardian (Prologue)

Summary: a tale of teyvat's creator's adventure as she tries to retrieve what she lost and hopefully purge her world of the corruption that plagues it. a tale told by a very overworked guardian as they try to save their beloved creator from her own stupidity and flirtiness

Series Warnings: Spoilers probably, Blood, Violence (a lot less than most impostor fics) Overlooked trauma, Bottled up emotions. will add more as the series progress

Additional Tags: Semi-Canon compliant, Women-centric as hell, OOC characters, Self-Indulgent series, Kinda SAGAU, the more accurate tag would be semi-soft! impostor cult AU. Creator/Guardian!Reader/Genshin Women. A very flirty, stubborn, "humor is my coping mechanism" Divine God.

Reader Pronouns: They/Them

Word Count: 1171 words

Author’s Note: ah yes, here we are. this started as "why aren't there more women-centric sagau fics" and I realized I might be looking in the wrong places but fuck it I'll write one myself. There will be male characters in this fic however, they will serve as side characters. I also feel the need to disclose the fact that I'm still doing research on the whole Genshin lore which is why some parts of this might be inaccurate. La Signora is alive because it's a self-indulgent fic I do what I want. So if you dislike everything I've said in this note then I believe this fic isn't for you. But if you do like whatever I've said in this note, then I hope you enjoy reading beloved readers <3

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Taglist: @chocoenvy

[next]

The Twelveth Harbinger. The Guardian. Also known as the hidden Harbinger, for the people of Snezhnaya at least. For the rest of Teyvat? As far as they know, there are only eleven Harbingers under the Tsaritsa’s thumb. 

Why is that? You may ask. Simply because… The Twelveth Harbinger never worked for the Empress of Ice, rather they worked with her. 

Hushed whispers echoed throughout the pristine crystalized hallway as you walked alongside Damselette and The Knave, both engrossed in their own world while you simply walked beside them, quietly listening to Columbina’s hums and Arlecchino’s occasional murmurs of displeasure as she carries a stack of neatly piled paper. Suddenly as you turn the corner, you manage to bump into the marionette’s giant puppet that’s always carrying her.

“Oh, dear.” Columbina exclaims as the puppet’s hand holds you up.

“Are you alright?” Arlecchino questioned, the stack of papers she was previously holding pinned underneath her armpits as she assesses the damage done to you

The Marionette although quiet seems to fuss over the slowly forming bump on your head as she fixes your slightly messy hair. 

“I’m feeling quite well, a little shook up but I am rather fine.” You reassured them with a smile

“What is with all this fuss so late into the night?” A sharp voice cut through the cheery atmosphere you’ve managed to create

“Rosalyne.” Arlecchino greets her with a cordial yet happy tone.

“You’re back!” You exclaimed walking over to the woman who’s obviously still tired, clad in thick coats and her Fatui uniform

“Yes. It was quite a dreadful journey. The City of Bards was as suffocating as it was before.” She sneers as she fluffs up your newly fixed hair, much to Sandrone’s pouts

“Well, you can blame that on the Anemo Archon who seemed to have given his nation far too much freedom.” You huffed

“That rat could never pass off as an archon. The only true archon worthy of such praise is Her Majesty, The Tsaritsa.” She scoffs

“Ah! That reminds me, Rosalyne, I sincerely apologize, however…” Arlecchino hands Rosalyne a hefty stack of paper

“Verdammt.” She cusses as she sighs

Your eyes grow dark as you remember the memories that invaded your brain last night, of Rosalyne’s death and the funeral held at Zapolyarny Palace. If you remember correctly, the papers that Rosalyne is holding right now would be the details for Tartaglia’s assignment on Liyue. You were then thinking of taking the Inazuma assignment rather than Rosalyne under the guise of rest and letting The Balladeer square it off with his mother. 

Truthfully, at first, you couldn’t care less about the Tsaritsa and her little minions. You didn’t even know them, not until they freed you from your cage, and even then you treated them as mere pawns to your ultimate goal. 

You see, you were never born. No. You were created. By the one and only Divine Creator. Created from her own blood and various items she herself created, just for you. You were the first sentient creature she created once she had been satisfied with the world she has conjured up. “Teyvat” she called it. She soon created being similar to you, yet they don’t hold the same abilities and divine presence as you. She explained that these are called humans, mortals, beings who are extremely fragile and can easily die when the years pass by. You saw no use for them but they made the creator happy so you couldn’t care less. 

You walked alongside her as she traveled through Teyvat, helping her creation flourish until she realized she could not keep up with all of her creation’s demands anymore, even with you acting as her “secretary” as she called you. So as much as you tried to stop her, she created the Gods, beings with a little less divinity than you but still much more powerful than humans. They are tasked with guiding humans in their everyday life with things that are inside their domain. She even created a floating nation just for them, Celestia as it is known now. 

They were supposed to be loyal to our great Creator. They were supposed to protect her and her creations. You could feel your hand shake in anger yet again as you reminisce the past. You forced yourself to calm down, you are still in between 4 of your beloved friends after all. Besides, The Tsaritsa definitely wouldn’t appreciate you destroying the palace in which she resides. 

And so with Columbina’s gentle humming, the gentle heavy thumps of Sandrone’s moving chair, and Arlecchino’s discussion with Rosalyne, you’ve arrived in front of Tsaritsa’s throne room. Moving aside so that Sandrone’s puppet could push open the extremely tall double door of the said throne room. 

And inside sat Her Majesty, The Tsaritsa in all her icy glory. Her eyes opened up with a sharp glare as if threatening to smite those who dare disturb her peace, only for it to soften just a tad bit upon seeing the 5 of you. She motions you to stand beside her and so you did, quietly listening in to their reports as to what happened this week. In contrast to what a specific person would say, Tsaritsa, cares deeply about her subjects, enough that she would listen to reports from her Harbingers every week without fail. 

As Columbina opened her mouth to deliver her news, a sudden ache pulsated throughout you, you winced slightly and clutched your chest right above where your heart is. A few seconds later, you feel a snap as if a rope was forcibly cut into two, snapping it in half with its threads desperately longing to be reunited once again, which is then followed by an excruciating pain spreading throughout your body starting from your head. 

You couldn’t stop yourself from screaming in pain as you fell to your knees, squeezing your eyes shut, your face contorted in pain. The next time you managed to open your eyes, you were still in the throne room with The Tsaritsa kneeling beside you, worry etched deeply into her face as her hands gather elemental energy in hopes to cool down your burning temperature, Rosalyne was holding a tall glass of water with the same worried look on her face which can be seen in Sandrone, Columbina and Arlecchino’s faces as well. You thought that it felt odd and out of place considering that they always looked so cold and intimidating but you couldn’t care less about that right now as the pain intensified tenfold.

You could feel yourself losing your own consciousness as the dreadfully familiar feeling of helplessness wash over you. Right before you closed your eyes, however, you could see something rip through the room’s space as a disheveled Lumine rush through it. 

There would be only one reason for this feeling. Only one reason that the Abyss Princess herself would seek you out like this. 

The Creator’s body is missing from the Abyss.

The Creator is back.

[lamnwar]

I Can't Remember // KNB Characters x gn! Reader

A/N: it ain't me if I'm not writing fanfic based on my irl experiences bc I'm that one bitch that's always daydreaming, even when she's supposed to be socializing 😩

Context: A long awaited weekend on the beach with your friends finally comes... and there isn't much of it that you can remember. All characters are aged up for plot purposes (early 20s)

Pairing: there's just a bunch of character there so no real pairing, slight Aomine x reader and Kiyoshi x reader tho I really couldn't help myself

Warnings: mention of alcohol, heavy drinking, some flirting here and there, language, 3.6k words because I got inspired lmao but overwise it's just crack 🤭

You open the fridge, hoping with all of your heart that what you've been looking for is here, and to your enjoyment, a last bottle of beer stands in between a block of cheese and yesterday's pasta. You hum, before going outside. As the sunrays hit your face, you squint, the light appearing particularly bright this morning. You finally sit on the small wall between the beach house and the sea, when your eyes have adjusted to the daylight.

“Yo” you hear a voice behind you.

You take a sip before turning around. The blue-haired boy stands nonchalantly against the door frame, looking as if he just came back from a ten days journey in the desert.

“Hey” you reply, voice raspy.

He sits next to you, and you both remain silent for a while, the only noises being the gentle waves, and the very subtle fizz of your drink.

“You look rough” lets out the man.

“Same to you.”

You both laugh. You do, indeed, look terrible. Hair going in all directions, dark circles under your eyes, dry lips and that weird tint on your skin. As for Aomine, it's roughly the same, but he still has his usual charm, even while looking like this.

“Haven't you had enough last night?” He asks while tapping your bottle with the tip of his finger.

“It's the cure to a hangover. This, and dumplings.”

“Give me some then.”

You pass the bottle to him, hands cupping your face as you pull your knees to your chest. You don't have a headache, thank god, and you're pretty sure that you haven't puked, but god are you tired. The thing is, you have no idea when you fell asleep, you just know that you woke up this morning, with Riko's hand on your face and one of your shoes missing.

The rest of the night? A total blur. You have very vague images, but remembering them is as hard as remembering a dream you had ten years ago. You haven't checked your phone, you don't know where it is. Hopefully, somewhere in the house. You better find it soon; beside the fact that you rely on it to function, it's also Sunday and your parents will certainly call tonight as they usually do on Sundays. And this time, when they'll ask you how was your weekend, well... Well, you'd surely have stories to tell, if you'd remember any.

“Daiki, do you remember last night?”

He raises an eyebrow at you, amused by the question. You land a friendly slap on his shoulder – he shouldn't be making fun of you, for all you know, he's probably as bad as you.

“Some stuff. You challenged me to a shot competition, and I won, and then you said that I cheated.”

“You probably did” you scoff, earning a nudge in the shoulder from him.

You sigh. The sky is as clearer as ever, but you can't say that much about your mind. Usually filling the role of the smart one, the one who has an answer to anything – basically being a walking version of Google – it's weird for you to be missing some information. At the same time, you don't want to blame yourself. It has been a rough semester, and you've desperately needed to let off some steam.

“Shouldn't we do something about this blackout?”

Your friend raises his shoulder.

“We'll see it all in the pictures and videos.”

“I lost my phone dude, I have no idea what I've done last night.”

You chuckle, taking a sip of your beer. It amuses you, to a certain extent, the idea that you've been totally unhinged last night. It only makes sense, you figure; you've had your first drink at 3PM, you haven't stopped from that point on. To be fair, you were pretty thirsty after the drive from your apartment to the beach house. In the early summer heat, you were packed in a car with Riko, her boyfriend Junpei, and his roommate Teppei. Sitting at the back between bags and the giant body of Teppei, it only made sense that you required a fresh beer once you’ve arrived. This might be the last time that you’ve had a clear mind, remembering what you’ve been up to.

“I’ve left mine on the couch I think, should we take a look?”

You look up to him, raising your eyebrows. For all you know, the secrets of last night might all be in his phone. Gathering the little energy that you have left, you get up from your seat on the wall, getting back inside. You squint your eyes; you haven’t realized how bright it was outside. The living room is a mess, not as much as you’d expected it to be, though. A couple of glasses are laying around here and there, and you don’t fail to notice to bottles aligned against the wall, witnessing of the wildness of last night. And you obviously cannot ignore the large body of Taiga, passed out on the couch with his shirt opened. You chuckle softly, nudging the blue-haired boy next to you in the ribs so he’ll look at your common friend.

“Shit, he looks rough” he scoffs.

You nod in approval. Deep inside, it feels reassuring to know that you aren’t the only one who has been slightly overboard, and the idea of someone sharing your blackout is rather comforting. You advance towards the sleeping boy, bending in front of me. Despite only half of his body fitting on the couch, he looks comfortable, in deep slumber and you hesitate to wake him up. Yet, you have to, in order to retrieve Daiki’s phone. Granted, you can also wait for the others to be up and question them so you can piece out your misadventures of last night; but you are impatient, and before anything else, you cannot stand being in a blur for much longer. So you take in a long breath, hand slowly poking at Kagami’s cheek.

“Hey big boy” you mutter softly.

He groans, but doesn’t budge. Your hand trails to his shoulder, that you shake lightly. Again, no response.

“You’re being too delicate, shake the motherfucker up” Daiki sighs.

“I don’t wanna be too violent” you pout.

He rolls his eyes, and before you know it, he pushes you aside, his big hand lightly slapping your friend’s cheek.

“Oi, wakey wakey.”

The red-haired boy finally opens his eyes – with much struggle – facing the bored eyes of Daiki. He grunts, taking a moment to fully awaken. For a couple of second, he feels like he comes back from the dead, and reality sinks in at a painfully slow pace. When he finally gathers his surroundings, he lays his eyes on you.

“Sup?” he greats, voice husky.

You smile. He really is in a worse state than yours.

“Feeling like shit. Sorry to wake you up Taiga, but you’re sleeping on Dai’s phone.”

He moves, propping himself up in a sitting position. You’ve never witnessed the basketball player moving so slowly before: in a sloth-like demeanour, he rubs his face and stretches his limbs, before lifting the pillows, looking for the phone. And when he finally does, discovering it in the folds of the couch, he sighs, giving it back to its owner. Daiki shoots him an irritated glance; though he doesn’t say a word, you can read his thoughts clearly on his face. The fact that Taiga’s spent the night sleeping on his phone is enough to annoy him, but maybe somewhere inside him he restrains from making a fuss because none of you are in the state to stand an insignificant quarrel. It takes a few seconds for him to check his battery, then his notifications, before he opens the gallery. You look at him, impatiently waiting.

“Let’s sit” he finally says.

And you do so, joining Kagami on the couch as the blue-haired boy sits between you, ready to show the content of his screen. The first picture is a normal group selfie. Daiki, Satsuki, and Tetsuya, smiling as they hold their cups. It’s cute, but nothing that leads you to retrace your adventures of last night. He scrolls through a bunch of other pictures of that sort, amongst some blurry shots of random moments. Then he stops at a video, exchanging a look with you before pressing on play.

“Whose phone is that? Anyways, look… oh wait, this angle isn’t doing me any good – “

Aomine puts the video on pause, swearing under his beard as he sees the familiar face of the group’s absolute party guy. Kise Ryōta. It’s probably the hangover, but hearing his cheerful voice clearly puts Daiki in a mood, and for a second there, he is tempted to delete the video, so he doesn't have to suffer through it. But the second he lays his eyes on you, he reminds himself of the reason why he absolutely wanted to retrieve his phone in the first place. So he plays the rest, just for your sake. You all stay in silence as you watch the blond change the angle to make him appear under his best light, shooting one of his typical smiles at the camera.

“Looks like there’s romance in the air…”

He chuckles, before zooming behind him. In the darkness of the night, it’s hard to tell what is going on, but you manage to distinguish two bodies standing close on the sand. The video then stops there. What they are doing is unclear, but you recognize the outfits; one being Kiyoshi’s and the other one being yours.

Your eyes open wide. You obviously have no recollection of that part of the night, and you fear what you may have done. It’s not unusual for you to get flirty when drunk, and you have to admit that you’ve always had the sweetest crush on the tall brunette. But it deeply bothers you that you cannot tell what this interaction was about, and what happened after.

“Wow, so you and Teppei, huh?” Kagami lets out.

You groan, rubbing your eyes.

“I have no fucking idea what’s going on there” you complain. “For all I know, it’s nothing… but it might be something too.”

You sink further in the couch, trying to figure out how to sort this out. Unfortunately, your mind is too much in a fog for you to solve your problem, and it takes Daiki scrolling through the pictures again for you to come back to Earth. After some shots of what seems to be a round of drinking games and some weird dancing, your attention is caught by a series of pictures that includes you, in your swimsuit, in the darkness of the night, going for a swim.

“Ah, see, this is what I like” comments Daiki.

“What do you mean?”

“Love to see the little nerd of our group going for a midnight swim. Granted, you’re unfortunately not butt ass naked, but still.”

He laughs, scrolling through more pictures of you in the pitch-black ocean, with the widest grin on your face. And suddenly, you feel some memories rushing back. The feeling of the cool water against your bare skin, the sound of your friends cheering you for going in the water, the splashes of the waves, the smell of the ocean. You sit back for a minute, reconstituting this part of the night in your mind. You remember, talking about a midnight swim with Riko. She said that she’d never done that, and neither did you, given that you’ve never been on the seashore at night before. You remember, pouring some alcohol in your glass while you considered giving it a try. You’ve downed your glass before changing in your swimsuit, and rushing outside in the cool summer night.

“Where the fuck was I when all this happened?” asks the red-haired boy in a state of complete loss.

You furrow your brows, zooming in on one of the pictures, then increasing the brightness of the screen.

“Here you are dummy, right there” points Daiki.

And indeed, it seems that you weren’t alone in your midnight swim. You chuckle lightly, seeing Kagami’s giant body being engulfed by waves, some bits of that moments reappearing to you at the same time. You remember, the tall boy as wasted as you, running towards the waves, stumbling in the sand first before getting up and giggling like a child. You smile at yourself as these memories come; somehow, it is reassuring to know that you’ve done nothing too embarrassing last night. Although, there is still that interaction with Teppei that remains a mystery. God knows what you’ve been doing with him, and for your own sake, you pray it was yet another moment of senseless words and laughs, like the rest of the night seemed to be. You stretch, relieved at your discovery. Sure, the whole night isn’t documented in Daiki’s phone, and your own phone as well as one of your shoes is still missing, but so far, it doesn’t seem as bad as you’ve imagined.

“Good morning kids.”

The three of you jump hearing a new voice, and you eye up to see Kasamatsu standing in front of you, in what looks like a jogging attire. By the coat of sweat on his arms and the earphones dangling around his neck, he indeed looks like he’s just came back from a run, and you can’t help but sending him a confused look. How the hell is he in a good enough shape to go for a run after last night?

“You fucking freak” Aomine shoots a gaze as incredulous as yours to the guy.

Kasamatsu shakes the comment away, going to the open kitchen to pour himself a large glass of water.

“Some of us only had a few drinks last night” he retorts with an amused smile.

It must, in fact, be hilarious to look at Aomine, Kagami and you at this very instant. In appearance, it looks like you’ve been through a lot – and a lot, you’ve indeed been through. And as you get lost in your blurred thoughts, you get a moment of clarity, realising that if you seek more information on your night, Kasamatsu may certainly hold all the knowledge you want. As fast as you can, you get up, rushing to him. Pleading eyes meet his intrigued blue irises, while he finishes his glass.

“You still remember last night, don’t you?”

“I do” he raises an eyebrow at you.

“Good, because I completely blacked out” you complain.

“And you want me to give you some clarity” he reads into your mind.

You positively nod, and he laughs before patting the top of your head. Like the rest of the friend group, Kasamatsu has always known you as the one person who always has everything under their control; you’re the one the rest comes to, looking for answers and some order. But if someone surpasses you when it comes to having their shit together, it must be Yukio. Excellent grades, an apartment that’s always properly organized and cleaned, a healthy social life, and always taking care of himself and the one he loves. It may not be surprising, all things considered, that he is the only sober one after last night's wildness. And it might also be endearing to him to see you like that, knowing that you’ve finally let loose.

“For the most part, you had fun” he starts. “Nothing too wild, if that’s what you’re wondering… except some of your dance moves with Daiki.”

“Huh?” the concerned raises up after hearing his name.

“Yeah, you two got a bit hot on some dancehall. Don’t you remember?”

Your eyes open wide as you look at your friend, barely recalling any of that. The single thought of you getting physically close to Daiki seems like an absurdity, but you also know that Yukio wouldn’t lie. A flash of fright crosses between you and the blue-haired boy, all while Taiga laughs at the situation. And it must be funny, from an external perspective. Everyone knows that Daiki and you are the kind of friends that always keep distance between them. Sure, you tease each other from time to time, but things never go further. Not that you’d want to – Daiki is at best a brother to you, nothing more.

“The things alcohol make people do” sighs Kagami, as if he’s in any position to talk.

You shake your head, when glimpses of this event comes back to you. The image of Aomine’s large hands on your waist appears to you, and for a second, you remember a whiff of his perfume. Red gains your cheeks, when more hazy images come to you. Hips swaying, barely any space between your two bodies, your fingers tangled in his short hair.

“Fuck, you’re kinda hot right now.”

“I know.”

As these words whispered between you resurface, you go back to worrying about stupid things you might have done last night. Just as you’ve finally reassured yourself that you’ve been overall a good kid, you had to be hit by these memories.

“To be fair, it shouldn’t matter if none of us remember any of it” says Daiki.

The issue is that you apparently remember some of it. But he may be right, you both have an alibi. Blame it on the liquor, none of it was done in all consciousness. It’s just dumb drunk people activity.

“Yeah, it doesn’t count” you say more for yourself than for him.

An awkward silence follows suit. If you were in such state that you’ve had a moment like this with Daiki, then maybe you might have done something of the same degree – or worse – with Kiyoshi. The worries that you’ve previously had come back, and you try to rack your brain up, looking for anything. Unfortunately, nothing comes. There is only one way for you to recover the truth, and that would be to ask Kiyoshi about it, with hope that he remembers it. But the possibility that you’ve done something in the slightest embarrassing stops you from doing so. How can you face him if you’ve been acting stupid with him?

But no, you should ask him. You cannot go back home leaving this mystery alive. You need to know, and as the adult you are, you’ll deal with the consequences of your actions in due time. You take in a big breath, gathering all your courage before going to the room where you believe you’ll find the giant brunette. You still remember that he’s left his bags in the bedroom next to the one you’ve been sleeping in. The three boys watch you, perplexed by your actions. The door opens in a silent creek, and you peak inside. The curtains are half closed, and taking all the single mattress, Teppei is laying there, on his phone. The bed next to his is unoccupied; it was supposed to be Hyuga’s but the latter was in the bed you were sharing with his girlfriend. Hearing you, he looks up, shooting you a tired but nice smile. Your heart flutters – you really hope that you’ve behaved yourself last night, because God, do you have a crush on the man.

“Hey there” he says.

You greet him back, closing the door behind you. You figure it’s easier to go straight to the point, so you sit on the empty bed, fiddling with your fingers.

“So, huh… I kinda don’t remember much of last night” you confess. “But apparently we’ve had a little interaction outside?”

“What? Oh, yeah. We had a nice moment outside.”

You nod, looking at him as he moves to face you. You only now notice that he is only in his underwear, which makes you blush furiously. He has no business to look like that when you’re trying to figure out if you’ve made a fool of yourself in front of him or not.

“Did we? I really can’t remember.”

He laughs.

“We did, had a nice talk about stuff. It was fun. Kinda sad that you don’t remember it though.”

“Yeah…”

“Is that all?”

You nod, feeling his gaze on you. A smile creeps on his lips, while he rests his head in his palm.

“You’re wondering if you’ve done or said anything embarrassing, don’t you?”

You sigh, an awkward laugh escaping your lips.

“Yeah, I can get quite… special, when I’m drunk.”

“Well, be assured, you were just the right kind of fun.”

And as these words reach you, you let out the breath you were holding. This morning has been a rollercoaster, as each information you’ve gathered from last night has sparked different reactions. But you feel light now that you’ve resolved the biggest mystery. It’s truly not as bad as you’ve envisioned; as a matter of fact, it isn’t bad at all. You’ve just been talking, nothing romantic there, so nothing to worry about. Maybe this whole fuss is to blame on Kise, he’s the one that framed you in a way that made it look like you were flirting with Kiyoshi or what not. You’ll maybe scold him later.

You shoot a last smile at the brunette before getting up, finally at peace.

“Well, if it was nothing, I’ll let you rest” you say as you go to grab the doorknob.

“Oh! If you don’t remember last night, is the date invitation still standing?”

And here it is, the thing you feared.

“The what?”

You may not remember last night, but there’s one thing that you’ll keep in mind forever, and that is that you will never drink as much as you did ever again.

[mazuwii]

Alrighty! awesome i got two requests for you if thats alright, choose whatever one you wanna do or do whatever (ill send the second one in another message tho)

alrighty maybe some headcanons with the aot characters when their s/o saves them in battle (pushes them out the way/ jumps in front of them/ etc) but gets seriously injured in the process (losing a limb/paralyzed/ etc). hope thats alright :]

Thanks for the request!! Sorry for the delay though❤️❤️

LEVI

-With instincts as sharp as his, he always believed he'd be the one saving you from disasters way.

-The second he realised what had happened, your body collides against his, shoving him out of the way before he could react and move. Your actions were so foolish it filled him with rage but he couldn't possibly scold you while you lay on the verge of death.

-Levi is fast and skilled enough to end whoever's life it was. Whomever had shot the bullet and it was evident who it was. Even while fighting he can only think of how stupid you truly are, until he comes back to find you twitching, your breaths full and heavy as your chest caves in an out.

-With the little hope left he had for you, he tightly wrapped a shred of his cape around the wounded area, where the bullet hit.

-The entire way, even whilst your knocked out, he's scolding you. He's heaving for air from simultaneously running and carrying you, but that doesn't stop him from lecturing you. "Do you not think I can handle myself?! God Y/n, pray the second you wake up because I will not go easy on you! Damn brat!"

-Can you blame him? He's genuinely paranoid you might have died and he's yelling at a corpse.

-Fortunately, that was just his paranoia talking, because you had made a fine recovery, maybe not perfect but good enough to keep you alive. The second the news hits Levi he bursts inside of the room and makes a straight beeline towards you.

-You expect him to yell at you, to pull at your ear and make it sore with all his lectures, instead, he pulls you into a tight hug. "I'm only going easy on you because I could have lost you... but that doesn't make what you did okay." He whispers into your ear

EREN

-Furious, hurt and confused as to why you'd be so reckless. He's told you millions of times that he's strong enough to handle his own, that his main priority is to keep you out of harms way.

-All he could think about in the waiting room was your smaller body jumping to cover his, before he could even react, it was too late. Everyone surrounding him had to face his hysterical and impatience. It's not like it was his fault, you were laying motionlessly, body unresponsive to the violent shaking.

-At last, when he's granted permission to see you, he sprints inside with a red face, fuming. Yet the second his gaze darts onto you, he can't help but soften up. You waved at him with a lopsided grin, probably too tired to speak.

-Although Eren is mainly cautious and smart, he can't help but lose his mind at the sight of you, he pounced on you like a mindless dog. "Don't you ever do that again- don't you dare! God..."

BERTHOLDT:

-He's always seen a future with you, even when you were just a crush, he had thoughts of you and him and a mini Bert, maybe even a few shaved cats- (for some reason he wants one)

- So the second your death becomes a possibility he's going wild- as well as the fact this death could be due to you attempting to protect him-?! Seriously, it's taking Reiner Braun to restrain him in his seat. After you were rushed into the hospital room he refused to lose sight of you, afraid that the next time he'd see you, your eyes would refuse to open again.

-his raven hair is glued to his sweaty forehead, his breaths are heavy and shallow during every second away from you, oblivious to your current state.

-Eventually he knocks out from the energy he burnt by pacing back and forth, hyperventilating a million times and trying to shake off Reiner everytime he wants to burst inside to see you.

-However, it isn't too long before he's wide awake, and met with amazing news. Reiner is knocked out cold from the exhaustion so he just... continues snoring...

-Meanwhile, Bert carefully reaches for your face with his slender palms, your cheeks warm and plump against his skin. "Hey- sweetheart- a-are you okay? Oh- Do you need anything?" He stutters when you move even an inch. "No it's just... The doctors told me that I've paralysed my legs"-

-"You're not upset, are you? I mean!- I would be if I lost my legs but I promise you're still worth just as much! Not that you wouldn't if I- you get what I mean, r-right?"

Forgive him, he's just hysterical from worrying so much and you know this, from the dark eyebags, bloodshot eyes and dishevelled hair.

-"I'm okay, Bert! It's better than dying... it's better than you dying." You sighed, "I'm okay as long as you're okay." Bertholdt nods at your reassuring words, staying still and strong as you tiredly slump against him. Without words, he cocooned you closer to his chest.

REINER:

-He hadn't known where you were, for weeks he had been plagued with paranoia. Everyone he knew had to tell him that they hadn't seen you around a million times. The last time he had seen you, you were in a military uniform but he couldn't speak to you due to the Marleyan authorities lecturing him around.

-However when he went looking for you after they left, you were nowhere to be found. He checked with your family, his family, friends- hell he even stormed inside of the military base manically demanding for you, Zeke had to apologise for Reiner's 'disrespect' as an Eldian. With every second, minute, hour, and day he exceeded insanity.

-Until he was taken by an officer in a higher position of power towards a prison camp, and the instant he recognised it his heart sank into his guts. By the time he arrived at your cell, you had already been battered up, laying awkwardly limp by the wall.

-Without another thought, he hastily scooped you off the cold floor and cradled your body to his chest, inspecting the limited skin revealed through the slashes of your clothes. "Oh my god, Y/n what have they done to you?"

-"Relax. She was taken as a war hostage. We got her back."

-Reiner didn't understand, why would they rescue you?- he's glad they did, but they wouldn't care about one soldier, most of the time. "Why..." his voice cracked in anxiety.

-"Jaegar fought that it was necessary to get her back, under all circumstances she'd be the one to devour him if anything went wrong"-

-The officer's voice faded out of his conscience the instant you twitched a little, your eye fluttering open to observe the sudden warmth engulfing you. Your swollen lips twitched up, quickly glitching back into a less painful position. They had busted you pretty bad.

-His face softened at the sight of you, giving you a reassuring smile before carrying you out of the dim cell. You slightly twitched and hummed in discomfort, making him clutch onto you tighter. "Shhh, take it easy, I've got you. That's right, there you go..." You slowly melted back against his chest.

JEAN:

-He has trust and care for everyone, but the amount he has for you can never compare to anyone else. You're all that he is in this world, he'd prefer it if he were the one leaving you to live.

-your life is threatened before his wide-blown eyes, you may not be there for him much longer, to be on his side when everyone else was not, flashing an idiotic yet reassuring facial expression from across the room when noticing how depressed he seemed. Who knew all of that could disappear in a matter of seconds?

-He promised he would be the one to save you, even if he were to die, it was his life over yours. Yet you broke the promise that you never agreed to in the first place and for some reason, as you bleed out like a fool, he feels no anger towards you, only a stomach-wrenching dread that love couldn't have possibly wrought.

-Proper words were difficult to accumulate as he tried his hardest to shakily help you up. His body kept nagging him as it stuttered, to gain the typical strength he uses on a daily basis. The louder those voices got, the weaker he became. He had plunged into fear too hard that it overtook him. Your limp body slipped through his arms.

Your strangled groans were all that he needed to push himself back up, manically slapping himself to put those irrational thoughts to rest. As dangerous as it may have been, he grasped your hips and hoisted you over his shoulder, staggering aimlessly in the dusty fog.

-This was not only to keep you alive but to teach you that no matter how much it hurts him, he will fight to keep you alive and safe, he'll cross heaven earth and hell if it means getting you back to him.

ARMIN

-I don't know why you would want to scare this sweetheart.

-Armin's natural response to his close loved ones in danger is to panic, he can't control it, he goes insane and loses all sense in a moment of fear. So while he's saving you from a titan's grip he is simultaneously shrieking and let me tell you, his voice isn't easy on the ears.

-While he may not look it, the man has yandere undertones. He does everything in his power to keep you safe after that encounter. A second flash of what could have been your death motivates his possession of you, every day.

ERWIN

-In a modern AU, his wife is his first priority. Anything in his way will be crushed.

-At first he's over the moon that he managed to save you before your heartbeat could get any fainter, promising himself he'd give you a light scolding when you woke up.

Until he's told your wounds have been infected. It took an entire week for you to wake up and he counted the days which seemed so long he had forgotten any anger he had towards your recklessness.

-by the time you wake up you're met with dark red eyebags, his stubble messily grown out and his bloodshot yet teary gaze. He must have stayed awake for the entire week, he appeared like he was in the grieving stages.

"Oh thank god-!"

-Only after he calls in the nurses to make sure you're fine and encompassing your cold body to his warmth does he even think to bring up what you had done. "What was that all about huh?" He mumbled gruffly into your hair, "don't you dare do that again, don't you ever jeopardise your life for mine, got that?" He kissed your head.

-"I just wanted to save us both, 'Win, I-"

"I know love but when something like this happens I can't let anything hurt you, you don't want to hurt me like this- see, look what you did to me." He slightly leans back for you to examine his face, features sunken in fatigue.

"Sorry..." you mumbled, "I just... wanted to keep you safe, is all."

He sighed before nuzzling you closer, "that's my job, I promise I won't let either of us die,"

ZEKE

-He always thought that out of the two of you, he'd be the scumbag that would die first, the one who shouldn't even be with such an angel in the first place. His blunt silence during moments of anguish always led him and others to believe he was completely void of human emotion.

-And yet the shriek he emitted without thought terrified everyone around. He had seen so much in his life and yet your motionless body was the first to send a jolt of fear flooding through his veins.

-His surroundings were a blur, all he could focus on was saving you. Don't let Y/n die. Don't let Y/n die. You swore you could hear him think as he rushed to yell your name exasperatedly. Zeke has barely raised his voice around you, it was shocking to hear the panic in his tone.

-As much as you loved it, everything muffled in the next second, your vision slowly descending into darkness.

-While you're receiving treatment far away from any potential danger, all he could think about was the extents you had gone to, to save a life as worthless as his? On one hand, he's confused yet angry, on the other, he's melting in awe.

-Especially the second you woke up to find him holding your hand, he was surprised yet again when your eyes twinkled up at him, as if him living through that ordeal meant the world to you. However that look quickly faded away the instant tears welled up in his eyes.

-The stoic man you'd known all your life was breaking down right before your eyes, convincing you that you may be hallucinating.

Just as you reach over to comfort him, he had hunched over your lap, sobbing into the cover.

"Zeke? Baby..."

"Why?" He sniffled. "Why w-would you?"

PORCO:

Pock isn't about that self sacrificing bs, and he's even told you 'it's every man for himself' even though, contrary to his word, he had saved many people in the battlefield and you know for a fact he wouldn't hesitate to save you.

Porco forgets, you not only view him as someone you love and care deeply about, but as a role model. You follow in his righteous footsteps no matter how harsh they may be. Even if it meant losing your life for him, you wouldn't hesitate to make sure he got out of every battle alive.

Oblivious to this, he wastes no time in worrying you may do something as stupid as try to save him. Yet in hindsight he can only curse at himself for being so naive to trust your idiotic ways. He promised, through tears that he could have saved himself.

But all he can think about, is rushing your body to the nearest medic, staggering on his two feet the instant he spots hope, a chance to make everything right again, and man... would he lock you up the instant you woke up again.

For the next dreadful hours to come, he couldn't stop bothering the nurses, he refused to go back to duty until he could see you were alive and well.

When he was finally granted permission, he practically burst inside and pounced by the side of your hospital bed, noticing the flat surface extending underneath the blanket where your arm was supposed to be. Only a few seconds later does he realise an amputation had been performed.

On one hand, he is heartbroken for you, on the other he's over the moon that you've been let go by the military. He could finally breathe without having to constantly worry for you, and gosh did it feel nice.

He spends the scarce time he has with you by showering you in his company, making sure you don't feel lonely or useless- because you aren't!-

Regardless, he didn't care about the outcome, he just needs you to be alive, to see that you're well. Otherwise he wouldn't know what to do.

Hange:

-A majority of the time Hange runs on autopilot since she uses so much of her brain power on her experiments and theories, basically her job.

-This requires her to react like her usual insane self. What is her natural response when she witnesses her S/O swallowed into danger to brace Hange from it? Her first instinct is to hold onto you, to examine you and count down.

-Even before you had been injured, Hange made it a habit to wake you up with a smile on her face and a cup of water in her hand, that was what you looked forward to everyday, her kind smile and warm pecks.

And even whilst she is weight down with so much worry, she finds it in herself to wake you up with a cup in her hand and a nervous grin on her face. If you can't feel the hope, she'll show you that it's there.

-Of course, she isn't the type to yell, she helps you up and assists you in drinking the water, tucking stray strands of hair behind your ear.

Pieck:

-She may not look or act it out, but she's protective in her own way. And it would mildly offend her if you try to push her out of harms way, as if she can't protect herself. She's nailed that into your head plenty of times. When you try to get her to eat your rations because 'she was looking pale and thin' she force fed it to you.

-Pieck is tired of you putting yourself second, so imagine the frustration she feels when she discovers the lies you had spewed to protect her traces. She returned bearing good news, only to find you had been beaten and tortured, let go into the cold half dead.

-Sometimes, she blames herself. However she knows that it would be hopeless to try and stop your recklessness. Distance won't do it, staying away from danger is impossible in the unfortunate world you both live in.

So all she can do is nurse you back to health, finding it in herself to sniffle up any scolding material she wanted to shriek into your face and asking if you were okay.

Mikasa:

-Isn't she the one endangering herself to protect you? Even trying to do so would result in her flicking your forehead.

-Even so, I can't possibly imagine a scenario where you could get hurt while Mikasa is around. Mikasa is basically a human senzu bean. Sure she isn't going to heal you. But your life is guaranteed if she's around. No one is faster and stronger than an Ackerman with a love interest/rage.

Miche:

-He always had boosted himself up when joining the corpse. That he was big and strong enough to survive through anything, to protect anyone. And when he met you, he swore on his life that nothing would even scratch the surface of your skin.

-Nothing but yourself.

-He's mortified when you shove him out of the way, giving his gear enough boost so that the titans hand would swat you instead of him. It terrified him to the bone, all he focus about while falling was your body twisting and convulsing into an unnatural shape.

-Swiftly, he propelled himself back into the air and slices the titan before they could do anymore harm to you. He can tell you are still alive. There is hope.

-That hit must've made your landing much worse, since you had shut down into coma. The news stung but it didn't cause Miche to falter in his beliefs that you'd wake up. Everyday he'd come inside to speak to you, hold your hand and beg for you to show him signs that you were listening.

-No matter how many times his advances were rejected, he never gave up. Every day, week- until a few months passed. That day felt like a million stones had finally washed off of his back, your squinted eyes meeting his uncharacteristic smile. This is all he needs.

[hysenie]

01:28 am | ljn

summary: "ayo! my friend right here thinks you're really pretty."

pairing: lee jeno x gn!reader

genre: idk suggestive ? with a bit of fluff

word count: 1.2k

"Hey! My friend says you're cute!"

If it weren't for the fact that they were in a club, surrounded by people, you included, those would've been Donghyuck's last words.

Jeno's eyes widened towards his friend as his mouth hung open, subtly but firmly hitting his arm and causing Donghyuck to let out a whine.

You, on the other hand, lifted your head and looked back for a second before putting it down again, completely unaware of what just happened. The loud chattering of your surroundings almost swallowing Donghyuck's words completely.

Jeno eyed you for the umpteenth time that night, making sure you didn't notice the 'dumb stunt Donghyuck just pulled', in his own words.

"You think you're really funny, huh?" Jeno growled at his friend, still slightly embarrassed despite the fact you didn't even hear anything.

"No, I know I am. Lots of people also tell me that—" Jeno just rolled his eyes, giving a slap to the back of Donghyuck's head "Ah, ah! Calm down! They didn't even hear me, you're good." Rubbing his head in an attempt to soothe the pain, Donghyuck's eyes subtly scanned your figure once again.

"You're good my ass, that wasn't funny."

"Oh no, your face going pale in a fraction of a second was definitely very funny." Chenle spoke after a while of just staring at his phone, further annoying his friend.

"Chenle, this is adult talk. Stay out," At this point, Jeno was just coming up with anything to avoid the teasing. "...Unless you're on my side."

A loud whine left Donghyuck's lips as he was getting frustrated. "Ugh, seriously Jeno, you better do something and it better be quick."

"As much as it pains me to say this, Donghyuck is right," Said man flashed Renjun an annoyed expression that he just ignored. "If I have to see you drooling over them again I will actually kill myself."

Jeno just refused all the accusations coming his way, arguing how he has never done that. But internally, of course he knew. From sneaky glances, to borderline checking you out. But he couldn't blame himself, you were dazzling on your own, like damn he noticed.

He saw you while you were dancing with some friends and ever since, he couldn't take his eyes off you. Even now, that you were just sitting by the bar counter, you looked stunning in his eyes.

"Okay and what y'all suggest me to do?" Jeno tried to deviate the topic a bit, getting tired of all the nagging. "Go talk to them?" He scoffed, sarcastically suggesting it.

There was no damn way he was going to do that.

Everybody knew Jeno was rather reserved and how he even got into the club in the first place was entirely his friends' doings.

"Yes! Yes, exactly that, you idiot!" Donghyuck's buttons got pushed further by the minute. Jeno just snorted in response. "God, you're so damn boring."

In between their bickering, you moved on your seat, your body now facing the friend group.

Donghyuck noticed and took advantage of this.

"Look, Jeno. I'm just trying to help you so, this time, less puppy heart eyes and more action. You can thank me later." His smirk alerted Jeno, who looked a lost at those words.

"The fuck is that supposed to mean—"

"Ayo!" Donghyuck cut him off, calling first to make sure he caught your attention.

Your eyes searched again for that voice you faintly heard before. Locking eyes with a brown haired boy, you squinted a bit and focused on him and his friends as he called you.

Bingo.

"My friend right here thinks you're really pretty." Donghyuck spoke loudly enough for you to listen. He then pointed to a terrified looking Jeno while you were processing his words over the music.

Oh.

Your lips quickly curled up in a smirk as your gaze shifted to the man on his right. He had cute eyes even though they were glaring right at the friend who called you.

As you inspected him, looking at him up and down, you didn't even notice his friend pushing him off his seat and towards you.

It was only when he was a few meters away that you realized. You stood up and walked up to meet him halfway.

Before you could even think of getting a word out, he spoke messily. "Uh... I'm sorry for all of that. My friend is an idiot who just says stupid shit and doesn't know when to shut up and... I'm really sorry."

You laughed softly at his ramble and the times he apologized. You found him so adorable, you couldn't resist the urge to tease him.

"So... He was lying, then?" Your voice came out low and there was a small smile on your face as you looked back at his friend, who poorly acted like he wasn't spying on you both.

Jeno let out a questioning hum and your smile only grew bigger.

"You don't think I'm really pretty?" A fake exaggerated pout made its way onto your face and Jeno's mouth opened instantly, but no sound came out as he quickly shut it. This happened a few more times before he stuttered out, shaking his head fervently.

"No... That's not— It's not that you're not pretty. Goddamn, no. That's really... not the case, at all. Um, It's just that—"

You put your hand in his arm to stop him, deciding to keep this flirty front if it meant you got to see this beautiful man get flustered.

This was way more fun than what you expected.

"Hey, hey. relax. It's a joke, I don't bite..."

His eyes trained down to his feet, moving it to yours then eyeing you from the bottom up. You could feel a little rush of excitement running through your spine. "...Unless you're into that. I'm always open to new... experiences."

With the breath getting heavy, his eyes snapped to yours after that. It was the first time he made direct eye contact with you and it felt so nice. His eyes were a mixture of kind but rough, and it was driving you insane.

It was silent for a bit too long so you let out a giggle, dropping your hand from his arm and introducing yourself, he did the same.

Your previous words must have given him a boost of some sort because he straightened his posture and a playful smile danced on his face.

"Nice to know. Now you won't only be cutie from the bar anymore."

Your eyebrows raised and the sweet smile on your face slowly turned into a smirk at his sudden rush of confidence. You kind of liked this side of him too.

"Is this the same Jeno from a few minutes ago? What did you do to shy boy?" Somehow, the distance between you shortened and neither of you were willing to break the eye contact.

"I don't know, but I can show you other things I can do, for sure." His statement instantly made you feel hotter than before.

"Oh, yeah?" You hummed in fake thought. "That doesn't sound too bad... I might know a quieter and better place than here."

"Lead the way." He smiled sweetly and you copied it, doing just that as you took Jeno's hand and pulled him through the crowd.

He fished out his phone to text his friends that he won't be going home, even though they witnessed it all from the distance. Donghyuck was right, and Jeno will make sure to thank his friend after all.

here i come again this time with a jeno fic😸 i had fun writing this one!! im taking any suggestions/requests so if u have any ideas send me an ask :D see yall

—🍄

[rumblelibrary]

Have you ever thought about writing a continuation to Unofficial Meeting? I'm dying to know whether Laszlo earns the reader's forgiveness and if she accepts his proposal or not. Have a good day! 😚

Undisclosed Meeting [Dr Laszlo Kreizler x Fem!Reader]

Word count: 2k

Warnings: Laszlo self deprecating himself hard

A/N: how could I give up a chance to make my boy Laszlo happy? Thank you so much for requesting it, it really made me happy to have an old story requested. Here is the original story

“Are you even listening to me?”

Violet inquired as you blinked surprised and taken aback. She invited you over for an afternoon tea, but your mind kept wondering off to what happened between you and Laszlo. You haven’t seen him in over a month and to be honest you missed him. The first few days you were firm on your choice, he upset you and your family, he crossed your boundaries mindlessly.

But then you realised how he meant to ask your hand to your father, how he never meant for you to be hurting, he just wanted to make it official.

Your grandmother tried to talk you out of your anger but she didn’t managed to, it was over anyway. You upset each other, you closed that chapter.

If you have feelings for him that chapter is not closed, your grandmother told you but you tried to ignore it. You haven’t seen him in so long, not even at some event or where you’d usually expect him to be. He kept sending you flowers to you until the end of the previous month. That silly man, always hating to leave things halfway done.

“I am, I am just a bit tired” you said as she waved her hand 

“nonsense ” she said offering you to try some sweets while she stood up to call her maid and gather what she meant to show you “I’ll show you now the latest Paris fashion and you’ll have to wake up” 

She was your friend, she was sweet and she knew you were on a rough patch now and she did all in her power t keep you distracted.

“Charles stop it”

John’s voice rang through you ears as you stood up to see what was going on from the window facing the luscious back garden of the Moore residence. Little Charles was the spit image of his parents and an adventurer at heart, you could tell from the way he kept his father busy running after him.

You smiled as John gave up opening his arms in defeat.

“What I have to do?” He groaned making you chuckle as for a moment it looked like he was asking to God, but when you noticed that he was in fact talking to Dr Kreizler who was sitting on a bench. You codlin’t help but rest your eyes on him, he looked pale, tired like he wasn’t sleeping. He was like this during investigations but as far as you knew there was no one at the moment.

“Wat you have to do John? Let the boy be” he said as a tired smile crept onto his lips.

“Yes, he will break his skull in a second”

Laszlo shook his head looking at him “If you prevent him from doing anything he won’t never learn” he said as he spoke matter of factly but that tiredness in his voice was evident. You wondered what kept him up.

You wondered if t was your fault.

But then you saw the sweet look he had for the child as he picked a ball that was hiding behind his back to give it to him to play with.

He was so good with kids, it was incredible.

You knew it was his job, but the tenderness he showed with them was something you felt on your own skin as you used to be allowed to be part of that special round of people that got to see him being sweet.

You moved away from the window just in time for Violet to come back, her maids holding onto over twenty new items of clothing.

“V” you said to her as the use of that little nickname sparked already her attention “I have to ask you a favour”

It was dead in the evening when Laszlo got asked from Violet to meet a friend of hers with a child with various problems.

The symptoms she described didn’t really add up, they should be excluding each other. But no matter what he decided to go there. 

He usually was very firm about his privacy and the times he could meet or not patients, even though the secrecy of the hour would be typical of a wealthy family trying to hide some kind of a problem they judge as shameful, he also came to a point where work was all he got.

He missed you, everything reminded him of you. He hoped to see, he would be a liar if he didn’t admit to have handed a dollar or two to your maid to at least know how are you.

He didn’t mean to stalk you, he just wanted you happy and once more he was acting behind your back. But your maid told him you were fine and doing your business, so he stopped inquiring. He didn’t deserve you in the first place anyway, but how things ended really pained him, he really thought to be doing right and he really wanted to have a future with you, to have many what John has.

But what nonsense thinking about it now that it is all gone and by his own hand, he had nobody to blame but himself.

As he arrived to the building he got inside surprised not to find anyone at service but only an open door.

The instinct would have told him to go away, but he was reckless by now, he already lost what he cared the most.

Walking inside the candlelit hallway he was surprised to get to a large living room only to find you there.

The truth was that he stopped on his track to admire you. You were amazing, he adored you in any possible shape and form, everything from your clothing to your composure screamed for his eyes to be fixated onto you.

He took that moment to look at you, take in your image, last time you two spoke you were so upset and he didn’t want that to be the last image he had of you.

“I am more discreet than you when I have to do things in secret” you said and he smiled lightly

“You’re”

His admission, the tiredness of his look just paining you.

“Is this a house of your family?”

“Yes, it is my aunt’s but she is on some cruise with her husband”

He nodded quietly as he looked around moving closer to you, the candles around you making him feel like the moment was set in another time.

“You didn’t have to make an appointment to meet me”

“Well, I asked a friend for a favour, I could have paid Stevie to drive you here anyway” you answered, basically hinting him that your maid didn’t keep his little inquiring a secret between the two of you.

He nodded gulping down, he felt like he was naked in front of you, defenceless and anything you could attack him with would really hurt. 

“I though that after our last conversation we needed to speak alone and in a neutral ground, I attacked you and I know I moved past my means”

“Just like I did inquiring about your life without permission” he concluded for you, he kept thinking about that day over and over, he couldn’t take it out of his mind and he even thought it would be easy only because so many people hated him already, button you. He wished you’d never be one of them.

“Miss Y/L/N” the fact he used your last name showing how he was trying to prove you some respect, not using your first name like you’re somehow close, mostly because he doubts you’d wish him close at any time.

“All I have ever wanted was to be worth of you”

His words trembling, like snakes sliding onto your skin.

He opened his mouth to say something and he closed it as he stared somewhere away from you, he shook his head slowly. The pain visible through him.

“I am a despicable failure as a human being, I know it” he said as he rose his hand to invite your silence “I have spent my life trying to find a common language  to get through people, studying them ,making sure to be able to read human behaviour to allow myself the freedom of interaction. I am not a natural like John, I can’t just go on a group and charm my way through it and I knew, I knew from the moment you allowed me to be close to you that I would ruin it because I am such social wreck, because I can’t control myself or I can’t not follow the rules that I have been told are the right path to follow”

He let out a shaky breath as he looked down and then up at you, he was trying to hold back tears but the truth was that he cried for losing you, He cried for nights and days.

“I apologise once more, I wanted to do you right and I just overstepped you. I always admired you for your being independent and clever and I reduced you to an object with my insensitive behaviour. I always make myself strong from talking my way through people and I blindsided you when words were the most needed”

You looked at him as maybe for the first time he really throw away the mask, he really let himself speak up.

“I valued what you did for me” you blinked at him surprised, your head slightly falling on side to observe him.

He was going down the self deprecating himself hill, you could almost count how much time there was between him going down onto his arm topic. You know that was always his undisclosed weakness, how he hated it and saw himself as unlovable because imperfect.

“It is yes”

He looked at you with a frown not seeing what you mean.

“My answer for your question”

He frowned even more, what question? You could hear it resonate into his mind as he didn’t ask you anything, he came to you to apologise and…

And then he got it.

His eyes widened as he opened his mouth only to close it again.

No, he was probably misunderstanding, once more reading badly the situation.

You picked your left glove slowly taking it off to show him you were wearing his ring on your hand.

He stared at you, his hand hesitantly moving to pick yours bringing it up to his lips and resting a kiss over it, his hand holding yours as he stared up at you.

His wet eyes now unmistakable from cha closeness, the signs of his lack of sleep visible.

“In a marriage there shouldn’t be secrets, I tried to avoid something shameful for me when you allowed me to see every part of you” you admitted as you weren’t free from blame, you referred to pretend something wasn’t there rather than facing it.

He stared at you with shaky breath, as he licked his lips trying to find words.

“I love you Laszlo, I really want to be your wife”

His jaw trembled as the happiness rushed over him like electricity, his hand bringing yours over his heart beating so fast and hard that he felt it could explode.

“I love you Y/N” he whispered as you caressed his cheek with your right hand as he leaned down, still not daring to believe what was happening.

So you just did it, you leaned in closing the space between the two of you with a kiss.

The times were changed.

Women could accept wedding proposals without their father’s approval, men could cry for love and love words were made of truths and exposed weaknesses and not by the words of dusty poets. And with such strong ideals you could only imagine your life as set up for a greater kind of happiness with him.

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