#but i just feel so stressed and miserable

[rafecameronssl4t]

F1 driver!Rafe x Reader! As someone that loves watching F1, I'm so happy you're doing this, and damn fans can be vicious sometimes so it gave me an idea. Maybe Reader is getting hate online, with jelaousy comments, saying that ''she's not pretty enough, she's so basic looking, I don't understand what he sees in her, I guess anyone has a chance with Rafe,''. And gradually the words get to her, making her really self concious when she's around him in public, girls near him that are (in her opinion) prettier and eventuallys she tries to break up with him, but he does not let her (not in a toxic way, more so because he loves her and isn't going to let anyone come between them)

Public eye || F1 driver!Rafe Cameron x fem!reader

A/n: So sorry this took awhile!!!!!! But thank you for the request it was sm fun to write :)

Warnings: angst, mental health struggles, bullying and online harassment, if theres anything else lmk!

Word count: 2, 946

MASTERLIST (F1 driver!Rafe x fem!reader au masterlist)

Your fingers hovered hesitantly over the comment section of the video, your heart beating just a little faster as you stared at the screen. The clip, a simple moment of you and Rafe walking into the paddock, was already gathering attention. He was beside you, his hand casually draped over your shoulder as you both made your way through the crowd, looking every bit like a power couple.

You could still hear the soft hiss of the shower jets from the bathroom, Rafe taking his time to wash off the stress of the race. You should have been doing something productive, but the pull of curiosity was too strong. Lately, your presence on social media had been growing—both the praise and the hate.

You’d never been one to look at the comments, always avoiding the spotlight, but today… something felt different. You clicked on the comment section, your thumb hovering nervously over the screen as you scrolled down. The first few comments were harmless, even flattering. “You two are perfect together,” one said. “Her smile is contagious,” said another.

Your lips curved into a faint smile as you read through them, the warmth of their compliments offering a brief comfort. For a moment, you forgot about the nagging feeling building in your chest. But then the tone shifted. You could feel your stomach tighten as the first negative comment appeared. “She looks so out of place with him,” one user wrote, followed by another comment: “She doesn’t belong in paddock.”

Your fingers trembled slightly, but you tried to push the discomfort aside. It was just one comment. You kept scrolling. More criticisms followed. Someone commented on your outfit: “Why does she dress like that? She looks like she’s trying too hard.” Another user posted, “She looks so stiff next to him. Does she even smile?” A sharp sting pierced your chest, and you tried to shake it off, but it wasn’t easy.

You’d spent so much time trying to dress right, trying to look the part, but now it felt like none of it mattered. “Her resting face is so rude,” one person said. Another added, “She looks miserable. Why does she always look so cold around Rafe?” You couldn’t help but feel your stomach drop. You knew you had a more serious expression, but it hurt to see it picked apart like this, as if your face wasn’t enough.

You quickly scrolled past more hurtful comments, but the damage had already been done. The video, which had once seemed like a simple moment between you and Rafe, now felt like an invasion of your privacy, like everyone was judging you. You glanced back at the bathroom door, where the sound of Rafe still hummed softly from the shower, completely unaware of the thoughts swirling in your head.

Your hands tightened around your phone, and you felt the familiar weight of insecurities settling in. You weren’t sure why this time felt worse than before. Maybe it was the fact that you were constantly being compared to Rafe’s world now, his fame, his fans, his life in the spotlight. It felt suffocating at times, and the negativity from strangers only made it worse.

You took a shaky breath, trying to pull yourself together. This wasn’t about you. It was about Rafe, and his world. You tried to convince yourself that you didn’t need their validation, but the ache in your chest remained. Before you could sink any deeper into the spiral of your thoughts, the bathroom door creaked open, and Rafe’s voice, still heavy with the sound of water dripping, called out to you.

“Hey, everything alright?” Rafe’s voice was soft as he stepped into the room, the steam from his shower trailing behind him. His towel hung low on his hips, droplets of water still clinging to his skin. His brows furrowed slightly when his eyes landed on you, the tension in your posture giving you away. You swallowed hard, quickly flipping your phone face-down on the bed as you forced a small, unconvincing smile.

“Yeah, just… tired. It’s been a long day.” Rafe didn’t seem entirely convinced. His gaze lingered on you for a moment longer, his lips pressing into a thin line as if he were debating whether to push further. Instead, he let it slide, disappearing into the closet to grab a pair of boxers. When he returned, his tone was casual, though there was an edge of curiosity in his voice.

“Did you want to walk in with me tomorrow?” he asked, tossing the towel into the hamper before slipping on boxers. He moved with practiced ease, his body language as relaxed as ever. It was a question you’d heard countless times before, something routine between the two of you, but tonight, it felt heavier. Different. You nibbled on your bottom lip, his question tugging you back to the comments you’d just read.

She looks out of place next to him… She doesn’t belong there. The words replayed in your head like a taunting echo. You hesitated before replying, your voice quieter than usual. Your fingers toyed with the edge of the duvet as you hesitated. “Uh, I think I’ll come a bit after,” you said finally, trying to sound casual, though the slight tremor in your voice betrayed you. Rafe paused for a moment, his head tilting slightly as he considered your answer.

His brows furrowed just enough to show that he noticed the shift in your tone, but he didn’t push. Instead, he hummed in acknowledgment, his gaze lingering on you for a moment longer before he climbed into bed. Once settled, he turned his attention back to you, his head propped on his hand as he studied your face. “You sure you’re okay?” he asked again, his voice softer now, laced with genuine concern.

You nodded quickly, your smile brighter this time, though it still didn’t quite reach your eyes. “Yeah. I promise, I’m fine,” you said, hoping the words sounded convincing. But even as you said them, your mind was still swirling with doubt, the insecurities clawing at the edges of your composure. Rafe didn’t seem entirely convinced, but he let it slide for now. Instead, he reached out and tugged you gently toward him, his arms wrapping around your body in a warm, familiar embrace.

His lips brushed softly against your temple before trailing down to your shoulder. “I love you,” he murmured, his voice low and steady, like an anchor. A shaky breath escaped your lips as you nestled into his chest, the comfort of his presence momentarily dulling the ache in your heart. “I love you too,” you whispered back, your voice almost trembling.

~

Walking into the paddock alongside Rafe’s PR manager, Mia, you couldn’t shake the weight of countless eyes on you. It felt suffocating, as though everyone’s gaze was dissecting your every move, every expression. The hum of chatter and camera shutters blended into an almost deafening background noise, and you couldn’t help but wonder what they were saying—or thinking.

Were they silently judging you? Waiting for you to stumble, to make some minor misstep they could pounce on? The thought sent a sharp pang of anxiety through your chest. It wasn’t just paranoia; you’d seen how quickly narratives could form online, how a single bad photo could spiral into accusations and labels. If you weren’t smiling enough, they’d say you were cold, ungrateful. If you stood too close to Rafe, they’d call you clingy. Too far, and you’d seem distant, uninterested.

Your grip on your paddock pass tightened, glancing briefly at Mia, who was confidently walking ahead, her phone in hand, seemingly oblivious to the tension building inside you. She had a way of carrying herself that made it seem like none of this affected her—like the noise bounced off her shield of professionalism. You envied her for that. The click of a camera somewhere to your left made your heart skip a beat.

You didn’t dare look, afraid of what expression might’ve been caught. You straightened your posture instead, forcing a faint smile that felt unnatural, plastered on for the sake of appearances. The effort felt exhausting, but it was what you’d learned to do in this world—pretend you didn’t notice, pretend it didn’t hurt. As you walked, you could feel whispers trailing in your wake, the murmurs mingling with the mechanical hum of the paddock.

Were they talking about your outfit? Your hair? The fact that you weren't walking in with Rafe? It was a never-ending game of scrutiny, and you felt like a chess piece on a board you barely understood. "Hey, are you good?" Mia's voice pulled you out of your spiraling thoughts. Her tone was light, accompanied by a small chuckle as she caught the distant look in your eyes.

You blinked rapidly, turning to her with a startled expression. “Sorry, what?” you asked, your voice slightly shaky. She chuckled again, tilting her head curiously. “Are you okay? You seem nervous,” she repeated, her eyes scanning your face as the two of you approached the Ferrari area. “Yeah! Yeah—I’m fine, just jet lagged,” you replied quickly, your tone a little too chipper to be convincing. You added a casual shrug for good measure, hoping it would sell the lie.

Mia’s gaze lingered for a moment, but she slowly nodded, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips. “Alright, if you say so. I’ve got to go organise Rafe for his interview. Will you be okay by yourself? I think Austin’s around here somewhere,” she said, glancing around the bustling paddock. “Yeah, of course, go ahead. I’ll look for him,” you assured her with a polite smile.

She nodded, giving you a quick wave before disappearing into the chaos, leaving you alone amidst the buzz of mechanics, media personnel, and fans. You continued walking, your eyes darting around in search of a familiar face. The usual hum of the paddock felt louder now, almost oppressive, as you noticed more phones and cameras turning in your direction. A knot tightened in your stomach.

Normally, you could brush it off, but today the weight of their stares was unbearable. Biting your bottom lip nervously, you quickened your pace, practically darting into the safety of the Ferrari garage. The moment you stepped inside, a voice called out to you, making you pause. “Y/n!” Relief flooded your chest as you spotted Austin waving you over from the balcony of the hospitality area.

“Hey!” you greeted him warmly, embracing him in a quick hug. “Rafe should be done with his interview pretty soon,” Austin said, glancing at his watch. You hummed in response, setting your things down on the table before joining him at the railing. The two of you leaned against it, looking down at the sea of people navigating the paddock below. “Yeah, Rafe and I were planning to head back to OBX for a week after—”

Your words trailed off as your eyes froze on a group of girls huddled together, their phones unmistakably aimed in your direction. Their whispering and laughter sent a chill through you, making your shoulders stiffen visibly. Noticing your silence, Austin followed your gaze. His brows furrowed in concern. “You okay?” he asked, his voice soft but probing.

You swallowed hard, tearing your eyes away from the girls. “I-uh—I’ll just sit down for a bit,” you muttered, moving back toward the table. Austin watched you carefully, his confusion evident. “Do you know them?” You shook your head, avoiding his gaze. After a moment, he sighed, his tone shifting to something more knowing. “Have you been reading comments again?”

The question made your head snap up, your eyes meeting his. You didn’t respond, but your silence was enough. “Y/n,” he said gently, pulling out a chair across from you and sitting down. “You know those are just jealous people who wish they were in your position, right?” “I know,” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “But they still hurt, Austin.”

“I know they do,” he admitted, leaning forward. “But think about it—what they’re saying about you… Is any of it true?” You bit your lip, your gaze dropping to your phone as you hesitated. “They’re not,” Austin continued firmly. “Because they don’t even know you. But we do. Rafe does. Don’t let them get to you. They’re just miserable people trying to make someone else miserable too.”

His words sunk in, easing some of the tightness in your chest. A small smile crept onto your lips, the warmth of his reassurance breaking through the cloud of doubt. “Thanks, Austin. I really appreciate it,” you said, your voice softer now but filled with genuine gratitude. He grinned back, leaning back in his chair with an air of casual confidence.

“Anytime. Now, let’s get you smiling again before Rafe gets back, or he’ll never let me hear the end of it.” You chuckled lightly, feeling just a little lighter as the weight of those comments began to fade, replaced by the comfort of a friend who truly understood.

~

The jets in the bathroom continued to hum, the sound blending into the background as you stared at your phone screen, your chest tightening with every cruel word you read. The image of you and Rafe walking into the paddock, so innocuous and routine, had somehow become the catalyst for a torrent of negativity.

Your throat constricted, and you bit down hard on your bottom lip, trying to keep the tears at bay. But it was too much. The weight of their words pressed on you, an avalanche of insecurities crashing down. You dropped your phone onto the bed as though it had burned you, standing there frozen for a moment, your hands trembling.

The bathroom door creaked open, and Rafe stepped out, a towel slung low on his hips, droplets of water clinging to his skin. His carefree, post-shower demeanour faltered the moment his eyes landed on you. “Hey,” he said cautiously, stepping closer. “What’s wrong?” You shook your head, quickly wiping at your cheeks, but the tears had already betrayed you. “Nothing, I’m fine.”

“Don’t lie to me.” His tone was firmer now, his blue eyes scanning your face for answers. He glanced at your phone lying facedown on the bed, and his expression hardened as he pieced it together. “Did you read the comments again?” The lump in your throat grew, and you couldn’t speak, your silence confirming his suspicion.

Rafe let out a frustrated sigh, running a hand through his damp hair. “Y/n, why do you let them get to you? They’re just a bunch of—” “It’s not just them, Rafe!” you snapped, cutting him off. The words spilled out before you could stop them, sharp and heavy. “This is my life now—being constantly judged, criticised, compared. It’s exhausting. I can’t do this anymore.”

His brows furrowed in confusion and alarm. “What are you saying?” “I’m saying I can’t be with you anymore,” you said, your voice breaking as the words left your lips. “I don’t think I can do this anymore.” Rafe’s face fell, his confident façade cracking in an instant. “What? No. No, that’s not happening.” “Rafe—”

“No!” He stepped closer, his voice low but desperate. “You’re not doing this because of a bunch of idiots online who don’t know anything about us.” “It’s not just them!” you cried, the dam of emotions finally breaking. “It’s everything! The constant attention, the pressure, the way people look at me like I’m not good enough for you. And maybe they’re right! Maybe I’m not!”

“Don’t you dare say that,” he interrupted, his voice rough with emotion. He reached for your hands, holding them tightly even as you tried to pull away. “You are good enough. You’re more than good enough, Y/n.” “I can’t keep living like this, Rafe,” you whispered, tears streaming down your face. “I feel like I’m losing myself.

Rafe’s grip on your hands tightened as if letting go would make your words true. “I don’t care what they say. None of it matters to me. You matter. You’re the only thing that matters.” Your lips trembled as you looked into his eyes, the sincerity there almost too much to bear. “But what if I can’t handle it?” “Then I’ll help you handle it,” he said firmly, his voice softening as he pulled you closer.

“You’re not doing this alone. I love you, Y/n. I don’t care what those people think. They mean nothing to me—nothing.” You let out a shaky breath as his words washed over you, your resolve weakening under the weight of his conviction. Rafe cupped your face gently, his thumbs wiping away your tears. “Please don’t do this,” he whispered, his voice breaking slightly. “We’ll get through it together. I promise.”

For a long moment, you just stood there, your forehead resting against his as you tried to steady your breathing. The pain was still there, raw and jagged, but so was the love in his voice, in his touch. “I don’t know if I can be enough,” you whispered. “You already are,” he replied without hesitation. “You’ve always been enough for me.” And somehow, in his arms, the weight of the world felt just a little lighter.

[love-byers]

if you watch the rink o mania fight closely, you can see that mike only gets annoyed when will says "sorry if i wasn't smiling"

that's when he narrows his eyes and clearly has more to say but leaves it alone and says "yeah whatever man"

will 'apologizing' for not smiling annoyed him because that's not why he was upset. he was upset because he missed will and wanted to talk to him and had been looking forward to spending the day with him. he didn't just want will to smile, he wanted will to talk to him and engage with him, which will did not do. it clearly goes so much deeper for mike than will simply "not smiling", so much so that will saying that made him narrow his eyes, as if he can't believe will just said that, that he whittled it down to that.

now obviously that does not make mike innocent here 💀 the problem is that mike made no advance to show will he cared and wanted to talk to him/spend time with him. will had every reason to believe mike didn't want to talk to him after mike barely called and then brushed him off at the airport, so he just kept to himself thinking that's what mike wanted.

this is why mike later calls himself a self pitying idiot. will not talking to him only happened because mike brushed him off. why exactly mike did that is up for debate, but to me it's pretty obvious that he was feeling insecure about the nature of he and will's relationship, fearing that he cared too much about him or was toeing romantic. he also might've felt jealous because he thought will had not been calling him because he had all these new friends. act like you don't care. and then it just got worse because he wanted the painting to be for him and was disappointed to find out (assume) it was for another friend they'd be meeting that day, likely a girl that will liked. mike was so stressed, so worked up, so annoyed, so hot and bothered ALL DAY because of will. mike's WHOLE DAY was ruined, from the airport to the end of rink o mania. will's silence let mikes thoughts fester for far too long. he got in his own head and was so jealous and upset and hurt that he put all the blame on will and blew up at him, only to find out will had no intentions of ruining the day and was feeling rejected by mike himself. he felt too bad for himself to realize the whole thing stemmed from his own actions (the airport). and not only that, he also finds out will felt like he lost mike and that they weren't best friends anymore and puts the blame on mike.

will voicing his own feelings, expressing how he felt rejected and like mike didn't care about him because of mike's actions, knocked some sense into mike. it made him realize will wasn't out to get him, he felt the same way mike did. but unlike mike (who crashed tf out), will just kept to himself and stayed quiet. it allowed mike to realize he didn't need to be on the defensive front, there was nothing to fight or run from or protect himself from. it allowed him to make sense of how he'd felt the last 6 months and articulate it enough to explain himself and apologize to will.

yes mike was being a jealous dumbass that whole day, but it also went much deeper than that. he loves will and desperately wanted to connect with will and spend time with him, and not getting that made him MISERABLE. and for will to reduce that to mike wanting him to smile STUNG.

[nhaomhi]

˙✧˖° Trouble Meets Perfection 𝄞 ⋆｡˚

pairing: troublemaker!riki x classprez!yn

synopsis: at decelis academy, Nishimura Riki is the name every single teacher sighs at—a relentless troublemaker with a smirk always plastered on his face. Y/N, the no-nonsense class president, is the complete opposite: disciplined, sharp-tongued, and utterly intolerant of Riki’s constant chaos. The two share one thing—an undeniable hatred for each other that electrifies every classroom they’re in together.

genre: enemies-to-lovers, angst if you squint hard, hurt/comfort, eventual fluff

warnings: mild language, mentions of stress/pressure, mentions of insecurity, use of petnames

word count: 2.7k

naomi’s note: kind of inspired by that song “not another song about love” by hollywood ending 😭 I DONT KNOW IF ANYONE ELSE IS FAMILAR W THAT SONG BUT it was pretty popular as a gacha song in like 2020 SHSKDH it gives off enemies to lovers and i feel that riki is perfect for that trope soo 😚😚 this is my first “long” fic so if it gets boring whoops

.*･｡ﾟ.*･｡ﾟ.*･｡ﾟ.*･｡ﾟ.*･｡ﾟ.*･｡ﾟ.*･｡ﾟ.*･｡ﾟ.*･｡ﾟ.*･｡ﾟ

The first bell rang with the usual obnoxious clang that echoed through the halls, signalling the start of another miserable day. You yawned tiredly, you had just stayed up quite late because you had a lot to do. You adjusted the sleeves of your blazer and for the millionth time, reminded yourself that today would be no different. Another day of leading your class, dealing with ridiculous drama, and most importantly, the chaos led by Nishimura Riki.

The thought alone was enough to make your head throb. It was always like you had to babysit him, that damn headache. You had enough on your plate—endless student council meetings, keeping your grades at the top of the class, making sure every single corner of Decelis was running smoothly, and you were currently planning for the end of the year gala. But Riki was a force that you simply couldn’t ignore.

A sigh escaped your lips as you entered your first class of the day. And there he was.

Nishimura Riki, lounging in the back of the classroom, feet resting on the table in front of him as if he owned the place. His messy hair fell over his eyes, but his smirk was clear as ever, and it was aimed right at you.

“Morning, Prez,” he called, voice dripping with sarcasm.

“Good morning, Nishimura.” you replied, your tone stiff. You ignored the thing your stomach did at the sound of his voice (probably organ failure) You were not going to let him under your skin, not today. You were too tired.

You made your way to the front of the room and soon started taking attendance. When you called Riki’s name, he stood up and bowed sarcastically. You heard snickers across the room before you rolled your eyes faintly “Sit down, Riki.” you said firmly. He sighed in an exasperated manner before obeying and sitting down, putting his head down.

The teacher arrived soon after and class began, but it wasn’t long before his attention shifted back to you. He scribbled something in his notebook, ripped the page out, and, without warning, threw it at her desk toward her. It landed softly on your desk, a direct hit.

You didn’t flinch, already used to his antics. You picked the note up, unbothered, unfolded it, and read it out loud. “Nice hair. Hope it doesn’t get caught in your books”? A laugh spread across the room, though your expression remained the same. “Very funny, Riki. You’ve seriously outdone yourself this time.” you said unamused in a flat tone.

His eyes gleamed with mischief, clearly pleased by your reaction. “Maybe next time I’ll write you a poem. What do you think, Prez?”

“Maybe you should focus on your own grades before trying to write poetry for me.” You shot back, your voice sharp.

The class erupted into small giggles and chuckles. Riki’s smirked faltered just slightly, but only for a second before he responded. “Touché.”

You turned back to the front of the class, satisfied with even just that small falter. You ignored him the rest of the period, but as always, he wasn’t one to let things slide easily. Throughout the lesson, you could feel his eyes on you, glaring at you. The almost palpable tension between you buzzed in the air, thick and suffocating, like static before the storm.

Lunchtime soon came with its usual bustle of students flooding the cafeteria. You were in the lunch line, waiting to get your tray of food, but the chatter around you did nothing to calm your nerves.

And then, of course, he walked in.

Riki strode past you, as if he hadn’t a care in the world, his friends trailing behind him like little puppies. He leaned casually on the railing next to you, leaning closer, close enough for you to feel his breath faintly on your neck.

“You know, Prez,” he said, his voice low but loud enough for you to hear, “you need to loosen up a bit. Did you know that stress is bad for you?”

You refused to turn to look at him. “And you should spend less time bothering me and more time actually trying to pass your classes.”

“Aw, come on,” he said, clearly amused. “I pass enough.”

That tension was there again, that impossible-to-ignore electricity. You clenched your jaw slightly, muttering quietly under your breath “How are you even still in this school?”

He let out a low chuckle. “Guess I have my charm.” His fingers brushed against the edge of your shoulder, and for a split second, you didn’t know why, but your breath hitched. But you composed yourself and refused to let him get the satisfaction of seeing how much that affected you.

But Riki wasn’t done, of course.

“By the way,” he continued, his voice suddenly softer, more casual. “You’ve been looking exhausted and stressed lately. Maybe you need a break.” He leaned in even closer, his face hovering right next to yours, and whispered, “Let me know if you need a real distraction. A stress reliever, if you may call it.”

Your heart skipped a beat at his implication. You fought the urge to turn around and ki—no, slap the smirk right off of his face. Instead, you step away from him, glaring at him. “Do yourself a favor, Riki, and stay away from me. I have enough to deal with.” With that, you walked out the line, deciding to skip lunch and go straight to your next class.

He just watched you walk away, his smirk never fading. “Sure thing, Prez. But you’ll come around eventually!” he calls out.

The days that followed were filled with the same old back-and-forth insults, teasing, and that ever present tension. You stopped trying to understand why he kept pushing your buttons long ago. He wasn’t just a troublemaker, he was a literal maniac—and the fact that he seemed to enjoy the conflict between you only made it worse.

But, somewhere in the middle of all of the arguments, something started to shift. You couldn’t quite place your finger on it, but you began to notice the small things. How he would defend you when someone made a rude comment about you. How he would show up to general meetings on time if it actually mattered, even if it was just to prove he could. You found yourself thinking, just for a second—that maybe he wasn’t so bad after all.

After a particularly stressful day when you had decided to stay back late to finish up some work, you were walking to the classroom when you heard noises from around the corner.

Riki was there, leaning against the wall, his face shadowed by the dim lights of the hallway.

“Hey, Prez,” he said quietly, his usual bravado gone. “You look like you need a break. You’ve been working your ass off, huh?”

You blinked, confused by the tone in his voice. “Huh? What’s your deal?”

He scratched the back of his head, looking a bit uncomfortable. “I know you hate my guts, but I also know you’re under a lot of pressure. The expectations, everything. It sucks.”

You weren’t sure how to respond. It was hard enough to wrap your mind around the fact he was actually being serious. He was talking about pressure? The same boy who always acted like he didn’t have a care in the world?

But there it was—an honest, real moment. No games. No snark.

“Thanks, I guess,” you said, your voice softer than intended. “but I don’t need your need your sympathy, okay?” it sounded a bit harsh, but you pushed that thought back.

Riki’s lips curled into a small, faint smile. Though a genuine one. “Not sympathy, just a reminder. You aren’t alone. If you want to talk.. I’m here. I may not be the best at comforting, but I can listen. For you.”

Your demeanor softened slightly at his words, your guard lowering just a teensy bit. “You mean that?” you respond quietly. “Promise.” he replied.

From that day forward, things between you shifted, not completely, but they did. The teasing never stopped, but there was something different now. A level of understanding beneath your bickering, a softness buried in the snide remarks. Your dynamic wasn’t about fighting anymore—it was more about finding comfort in eachothers company.

As second semester slowlyyy drew to a close, you realized you no longer hated the sight of him. In fact, it was quite hard to imagine a day without his infuriating presence. Though, you still despise when he touches you. You like it so much, that you hate it. You would never outright admit that to him.

Every student at Decelis was running on empty, cramming for exams and surviving on a diet of caffeine and stress. You, however, had one extra responsibility that was both a blessing and a curse: the school’s end-of-the-year gala. The gala we’d been fundraising for since freshman year, and now we’re seniors.

As class president, you were in charge of organizing almost everything. From the venue, to the decorations, to making sure everyone was on their best behavior. It was a huge task, and you made it your personal mission to make this the most flawless gala yet. But as always, that meant hours upon hours of work.

You spent this entire afternoon in the student council room, trying to confirm with the venue, decorations, and all of that. It was getting pretty late, the clock hit 6pm, school had ended 4 hours ago.

A knock on the door interrupted your thoughts. You looked up, expecting your advisor, but instead, Riki was there, leaning on the doorframe with a smirk.

“Well, well, Prez,” his tone light but teasing. “You’re still here? Thought you’d have passed out from all that work by now.”

You barely suppressed a sigh. “I know, I know. But I can’t just let this go, the gala’s coming up already next month and there’s still so much I’ve got to do.”

He pushed off the doorframe and walked towards the desk you were at with his usual confident demeanor. “You’re stressing out again. You know, for someone who’s supposed to be in charge, you sure let the little things bother you.”

“Don’t you have something better to do?” You shot back, only half-joking. “Why are you even here anyway?”

He paused for a moment, then shrugged casually. “I don’t know, I thought you could use some help.”

You blinked, a mix of surprise anf suspicion crossing your face. “You? Help?” Are you sure you know how to do anything other than causing chaos?”

His grin widened. “Well, I may not be the most.. academically inclined student, but I’ve got my strengths. Besides, you could use a little chaos in your life, Y/N. You’re always so uptight.”

You rolled your eyes, but your heart did a small flutter when he said your name. He always called you “Prez” so him saying your name was new. You couldn’t help the small smile that spread on your lips. “Fine,” you mutter, shoving a stack of papers in his hands. “You can help by making sure the decorations for the gala are on schedule.”

He grinned, snatching the papers and flipping through them. “Decorations, huh? Easy peasy.”

For a moment, it was quiet—just the two of them in the room, working side by side. He wasn’t the best at following instructions, but he had a way of making things more bearable. His constant teasing wasn’t as annoying as usual, and you actually found yourself laughing and giggling slightly at his antics, even when they made no sense at all.

For the next few weeks, he helped you.

One day, you guys were in the library together, and, you don’t know how, but you’re having a “heart-to-heart” right now.

“I’m not as bad as everyone thinks.” he mutters defensively. “You’re not dumb, Riki. You just.. don’t try.” He stared at you for a moment before letting out a small, dry laugh. “Yeah, well, sometimes it feels pointless to try. Doesn’t matter how hard I work, teachers still see me the same.”

You felt a small pang in your chest. “You know,” you began softly, “it’s not just about the grades. You just.. have to show people you’re much than that.”

He just stared at you, his expression unreadable. Then, he looked back to the front while walking. “I guess you’re right. But that’s easy for you to say.” you raise a brow slightly “What do you mean?” you ask.

“What I mean is, teachers already love you. You’re class president, no? Everyone loves you.” your expression hardens just slightly, he seemed to notice and quickly spat out “Not in that way, but—“ you cut him off. “Not everyone loves me. There’s still people who talk behind my back, and I know it.” he sighs and mutters quietly “I didn’t mean it like that, I mean— I don’t know why I said that.”

he gently takes your hand, your heart skipping a beat. “I’m sorry. For.. assuming that.” you gulp slightly at his words. “H-Huh? What are you-“ he doesn’t know what came over him, but his lips somehow end up on yours. Your eyes widen, but you find yourself kissing him back. After a while, he pulls away.

You step back, unsure of what to do. “I- I need to go.” his heart drops, just a bit, was it a mistake to you? You quickly walk off. He mutters a curse under his breath. “..Fuck.”

For the next few days, you’d been avoiding him completely. You changed the classroom that you studied in, barely sparing him glances in classes you had together. It’s not like you hated the kiss. It’s the fact you enjoyed it so much, and you wanted more, that’s what you hated. You were scared, scared that you’d fall in too deep. That was a bad thing to you. Growing up, you watched people fall out of love. You were terrified of that happening to you.

The day of the gala came, the venue absolutely packed with people. Everything went accordingly.

That was until you saw him. You tried to avoid him, going opposite to where he was headed. But he eventually saw you and began to walk up to you. Just as you were going to walk away, he gently grabbed your wrist.

“Y/N, please. Let’s talk.” he says, his expression unreadable. You sigh softly and nod reluctantly. He then dragged you to a private corner, maintaining his distance. “I’m sorry if I made you feel uncomfortable. I don’t know what came over—“ he was soon interrupted.

“Riki, I’m sorry. It’s not your fault. I shouldn’t have avoided you like that, I should have talked to you about how I felt. The truth is, I like you. I really, really like you. Too much, even. I was just scared. I loved your touch so much, and I hated that. But I’ve thought it over and.. I think I want to be with you. I want us to be together.” you sputtered out quickly, avoiding eye contact.

His eyes widened momentarily once you said that, but it was soon replaced with a softer look. “You like me? You mean that?” you nodded quickly, still avoiding eye contact as you play with your dress slightly out of nervousness.

He noticed your nervousness, inwardly chuckling. He grasped your chin slightly, tilting your head up to look at him. “Can you repeat that? Say you like me.” you gulped slightly, your eyes looking up into his. You got distracted for a second before you responded. “I-I like you.”

He smiled and began to lean in, not too fast but not to slow, he gave you time to pull away if you wanted to. But you didn’t. Instead, you leaned in as well, kissing him. He quickly encircled your waist with his arms, pulling you closer than you already were. Your hands wrapped around his neck.

After a while, he pulled away, smiling. “Does this make us official?” he asks. “Yes, Riki. I’m yours, you’re mine.” he grins at your response, bringing you into another kiss as he whispers against your lips, “I’m so glad I can call you mine now, baby.”

It was then that you realized, maybe love wasn’t so bad when it was with the right person.

[simonbrain]

Hey friend. I've put off this ask a little while, because I'm sure you're tired of getting it by now, but... are there any updates on the neglected! reader (a/b/o)? I really liked that one, and though I have no issues with the second part not being done yet, a little progress update (if you want to add one) would be very cool! Thanks for writing :)

ugh i know i've been putting it off for a long time but i haven't abandoned it guys! just feeling very stuck with where the narrative is sitting rn 🥲 however, here's a little tease of the beginning of part two, keep in mind it may not be written exactly like this when i post it:

"what?" kyle mumbles, rising from john's lap to grapple with the sudden coldness that overcomes him. no one else says anything, but you can see how your words affect the rest of them: john stiffens in his seat, simon's dismissive glance has turned into a burning glare, and johnny's hand has slipped from where it was resting on his captain's shoulder, a look of confusion and panic twisting on his face.

your anxiety may have dissipated, but that doesn't make this any easier. the air feels too tense, too uncomfortable. you don't like how agitated everyone's scents became the moment you walked in, and it hurts even more knowing they didn't even try to hide it. you don't like seeing them all together here like this. you don't like that you're believing that spiteful little voice in the back of your mind jeering at you that they've been planning your departure, planning how to break the news to you that you're not worth the hassle anymore.

it only makes sense why they're all cooped up in john's office, whispering amongst themselves.

"darling, what are you talking about?" john's voice cuts through your thoughts, but you try not to find comfort in it. he stands from his seat, and you try not to reveal how much you've missed his scent despite how thick it is with stress. your omega has been quiet for a while, but now that you're gathered in one place like this, she's getting restless, simultaneously wanting to hiss at them and cling to anyone who will spare a scrap of affection.

"please, captain, just do it. i don't want to be a burden any longer." you'll beg if that's what it takes; you'll get on your knees and clasp your hands together if it means saving them from unnecessary stress and annoyance and you from further heartbreak.

the earnestness in your voice is so strong it bites at them because how could you even suggest something like that? how could they even consider their pack whole if you're not there?

but hearing his rank fall from your lips leaves a bitter taste in john's mouth and a knot forming in his stomach. it's unnatural to hear you call him that while sounding so defeated and miserable. it's scary to feel so out of control when he's supposed to be your captain, your head alpha.

to know he's let you down so much makes his alpha growl pathetically in shame; how can he even consider himself a leader?

[bellaxgiornata]

Don't Know What You're Talking About

Pairing: Frank Castle x fem!Reader Word Count: 1.5k [Tuna-Tober Masterlist]

Tuna-Tober Prompt: Flustered

Warnings/tags: 18+; suggestive comments, flustering Frank in a sundress

Summary: Stressed from a bad week, it's been awhile since you and Frank have had sex. You take the opportunity to intentionally rile him up because of it.

a/n: The last and final post leftover from Tuna-Tober months ago! Finally got around to editing it up and sharing after that unexpected hiatus. Feedback and reblogs are always appreciated!

“What a gentleman,” you teased lightly.

Squeezing past Frank, you slipped into the passenger seat of his truck before smoothing out the skirt of your dress. It wasn’t lost on you the way his dark eyes followed the movement of your hands.

“Getting the door for me and taking me out for brunch today? A girl could get used to this,” you continued, grinning over at him still holding the door of the truck open. 

“Know you been wanting to go to that new place,” he replied gruffly, his eyes returning to your face. “And you had a rough week. Figured it’d cheer you up.”

“That's sweet of you, Frank. It even gave me an excuse to get dressed up,” you told him, your grin growing into a wide smile as you pulled on the seatbelt. “Thankfully it’s Saturday, which means I can just focus on you today. And that is exactly what I intend to do. You've got my undivided attention now that this miserable week is finally over.”

A faint grunt fell out of his mouth in response before he gave you a brief nod in acknowledgement. As you settled into your seat, smoothing your sundress down over your thighs once more, you could feel Frank’s eyes roving over your body. When he continued to hesitate by the door for a second longer, you glanced up from beneath your lashes, catching his gaze as your brows slowly rose.

“Something on your mind?” you asked him.

Frank cleared his throat before giving a quick shake of his head. “Naw, it’s nothin’,” he muttered.

Bottom lip catching between your teeth, you fought back a laugh as you watched him close the passenger door. Your eyes followed his steps as he made his way around the front of the truck towards the driver's side. Gnawing the soft bit of flesh in amusement, you knew damn well what was on his mind. 

Frank loved whenever you wore a dress–especially this particular sundress that hung low and clung to your chest before flaring out over your hips in a way that usually had him struggling to keep his hands to himself. You’d chosen it on purpose for today because you had every intention of breaking that damn eight day no-sex streak you’d both accidentally been stuck in because you had been so frustrated at work this past week.

But first, you desperately wanted to rile him up on this little outing. Fluster him a bit. You truthfully never could resist the sight of Frank cursing under his breath and grumbling, his dark brows knitted together as he called you out on your bullshit. And you damn well planned to get a bit of a rise out of him today. Unbeknownst to him, it was practically foreplay to you.

Frank opened the driver’s side door before climbing into the seat beside you. Starting the truck, the engine roared to life with a rumble just before music began playing quietly over the stereo. Next to you, you caught the way Frank glanced in your direction as he put the truck in reverse.

“You just sit back and relax today, honey,” he told you, looking over his shoulder as he began to back the truck out of the driveway. “Lemme fix your bad week.”

Fighting the urge to grin devilishly at his words, you seized the opportunity he’d just presented you. Leaning back in your seat, you kicked your feet up onto the dashboard of his truck. Your neutral nail polished toes were hard to ignore in your wedge sandals as they sat right there by the windshield. Your dress, which was already on the shorter side, inched a bit down your thighs at the movement.

Frank started down the street, passing a few houses before he pulled the truck to a stop at the corner. He gave you a sidelong glance before he let out a grunt. Turning towards him, you shot him a curious look at the noise, doing your best to play up your innocent act. Frank’s head gestured towards your feet on the dashboard before he spoke.

“What’re you’re doing, sweetheart?” he asked.

You gave a small, innocent shrug in response before focusing back out of the front windshield. Watching him from the corner of your eye, you answered him casually. “You said to sit back and relax. So I am.”

Frank’s jaw visibly clenched in response, his hands tightening their grip on the steering wheel. His attention returned to the road, but you caught the faint huff he’d emitted at your response. 

“Yeah? Is that right?” he asked. “That all you’re doin’, sweetheart? Relaxing?”

“Of course, what else would I be doing?” you asked, still feigning innocence. 

“Pushing my buttons?” he shot back.

Throwing a hand over your heart, you turned at the waist in your seat and let out a dramatic gasp. It took every ounce of your willpower to refrain from smirking when his eyes darted over towards you, his brows furrowing in frustration as his eyes narrowed at you.

“Frank!” you said, pretending to be offended. “Why ever would you say that?”

“Cut the damn act, sweetheart,” he grumbled, eyes returning to the road as he continued driving. “You don’t think I know what you’re doin’ over there?”

“What?” you asked. “I'm just getting comfortable.”

His eyes flew down to your bare legs, the sunlight shining along them through the window and making them practically glisten in the late morning light. Chewing the inside of your cheek, you fought down a laugh at the way his lips pressed together. 

“You got your goddamn legs up like that,” he said, one hand releasing the wheel as he gestured at your bare thighs, “and you expect me to think you're not doin’ it on purpose?”

“Maybe you should just focus on the road, Frank,” you suggested, struggling to keep the smile from your lips. “Instead of me.”

Frank scowled in response, both hands gripping the steering wheel so tight you heard the faux leather groan against his palms. The sound sent a bit of a thrill through you as you watched the muscle jump in his cheek.

“I am focused on the goddamned road,” he grumbled. “Damn miracle I'm still in the lane with your fuckin’ legs up like that, though.”

“Really, Frank?” you asked, doing your best to sound surprised. “Are my legs really doing that much for you?”

You caught the way he glanced over at you again, his eyes trailing over your bare thighs before making their way to your calves. He let out a quiet scoff before he shook his head, one hand leaving the wheel to run across his mouth in agitation. 

“They're goddamn distracting,” he grumbled again. “And you're teasin’ me on purpose.”

“I'm not doing anything,” you replied. “I'm just sitting here, Frank.”

“Bullshit,” he muttered. “Absolute bullshit, sweetheart.”

“What? Can't handle a bit of skin, Frank?” you teased back, gradually losing the act. “I know you like my dresses but…you're that distracted?”

His head turned over his shoulder, eyeing you closely for a moment. With a grunt and a shake of his head, he focused back on the road once more.

“You even wearing anything under that?” he asked. 

You bit your lip, trying not to overdo the coyness in your tone when you answered. “No, it's more comfortable with nothing underneath,” you answered him. “I've told you that before, Frank.”

“Goddamn tease,” he muttered under his breath.

Shifting in the seat beneath the straps of your seatbelt, you laid your head back along the headrest and closed your eyes. As you sat there pretending to relax and rest your eyes, you could practically feel the way Frank’s were roaming over your body. 

Shimmying in the seat again, you readjusted your legs on the dashboard, crossing the opposite leg over the one that had been on top. The hem of your sundress slid further up your thighs as you moved. You didn't need to open your eyes to know the fabric had revealed even more bare skin, especially when beside you Frank let out a curse under his breath. One corner of your lip twitched briefly upwards at the sound before you heard Frank let out a loud, irritated groan. 

“Dammit, sweetheart!” he growled. “I saw that damn smirk.”

Your eyes flew open, your head rolling on the headrest towards Frank as you openly grinned. “Okay, yeah,” you admitted. “I'm doing it on purpose. But only because you're so fun to fluster and it's been so damn long since we've had sex. I couldn't resist.”

Frank glanced over at you, his eyes narrowing a fraction. “Do I need to turn this truck back around instead, sweetheart? Take you back home? I was trying to give you a nice goddamn day and here you are doing this.”

“Relax, Frank,” you said as you rested a hand along his thigh, grinning when the muscle tensed beneath your palm. “I'll thank you plenty for the brunch date and for putting up with me afterwards. I promise.”

Frank shot you another look, his jaw tightening before he focused back on driving. “Can bet your ass I'm gonna hold you to that later, sweetheart,” he grumbled.

Frank Castle One Shot Tag List: @heimtathurs @linamarr @wkndwlff @kmc1989 @shiorimakibawrites @xxdrixx @leikelle @pinkratts @1988-fiend @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @stilldreaming666 @will-delete-this-later-probably @yarrystyleeza @pone21 @millennial-birkin @harleycao @kezibear @justanerd1 @sadest-bookshelf @loves0phelia

[11luckyst4r]

☆3 MONTHS☆

- you decided to swear off sex for 3 months to prove your friend wrong. How hard can it be, right? You wouldn't ever dream of sleeping with your new roommate, satoru gojo, yet she thinks you can't do it.

content: dirty talk, petnames (sweets, princess etc) ,degradation (slut etc),unprotected sex ,creampie, uhhh what else, reader is kind of a slut.(real shit) smut with sprinkles of a plot. Reader is stubborn (me) idk what else

first fic kinda nervous

You wondered how you ended up in this predicament. You didn't plan on swearing off sex for 3 months. But your best friend joked you'd end up fucking your roommate Satoru Gojo. He wasn't even your type. " Gojo is a cocky know-it all and I wouldn't sleep with him" Your friend cackled " Babes i love you but you tend to think with your dick when you're horny."

You were utterly shocked at that. While 7 did tend to sleep with guys and girls often, you wouldn't sleep with your roommate. Especially Gojo of all people, his friend Geto, though was another thing.

"University is the place for fun, besides I have to have fun now. When I go to med school it's books and studying and I won't have time for fun." You said matter of factly. That's when you made the personal promise to be celibate for 3 months to prove your best friend wrong. What you didn't count on , was how pent up you'd become.

3 weeks in you felt fine, but you noticed gojo staring at your chest all too often. That was after he walked in on you in the bathroom. Without a top on. Shaving your armpits in the sink. You thought that gave him the ick.

4 weeks in you were in denial that you were fine. And you noticed Gojo brushing your arm here and there. Sometimes he'd come up behind you to help you get your favourite mug from the top shelf. You swore that you left it on the bottom shelf.

6 weeks in , your toys became your best friends. " It's just as good as the real thing" You told your best friend while she shook her head. You aslo noticed Gojo walking around shirtless more often too. He was the definition of a sleeper build. And sometimes you'd have to stop yourself staring.

Week 8 you lost feeling in your 4th eye, you couldn't taste in your ear anymore and your eyed could feel colour's.

You lost count around week 9. Now you were beginning to lose it. You couldn't focus in class anymore, your mind would go to the most dirty scenarios regarding some of your fine professors. You also became noticeably irritable.

"fuck" You muttered to yourself, you gave yourself another miserable orgasm. Which was weird since normally you were quite good at it. You left your room to go make yourself some tea. "stupid celibacy pledge." You grumbled to yourself while making tea. Gojo sat on the couch watching some stupid movie with a stupid plot. "You okay, you seem irritated lately?" He asked.

" I'm fine" , you sighed " just stressed out with schoolwork"

"Oh?" You could feel him staring into your back so you turned to face him. His eyes immediately went down.

" You know Gojo this staring at my boobs thing is getting really old"

"I'm not staring" he said while not breaking boob eye contact.

You scoffed and turned your focus back on your tea. You heard his foot steps come up behind you. " You know if you're stressed with schoolwork I could uh... help you with that." You turned to face him. Except you had to look up at him.

" Stop being coy"

He leaned down to whisper in your ear and placed his hand on your waist. You swore your pussy started throbbing." You're looking at me like you're begging me to bend you over the kitchen counter and I'm the only one being coy?"

You so badly wanted him to continue speaking to you like that, but you were stubborn. So you turned your back to him, brushing your ass against his dick unnecessarily. That just egged him on, and he continued whispering downright dirty things in your ear. "See, now I have an idea of what you're like," he whispered while tracing circles on your waist. You tried to distract yourself by stiring your tea. "Oh? You think about me im so touched. " " Touched is what you'll be if you keep grinding your ass on my dick sweets"

You stopped, and his hands dropped lower to your hips. You hadn't even realised what you were doing. You felt yourself getting hotter and wetter. " Anyways, princess there are a long list of things I'd like to do to you". You were getting weak , you were only a girl and you had needs.

"Like what" You replied breathlessly

" You pressed up against the wall, leg on my shoulder and thighs squeezing my head."

He kept his one hand on your hip keeping you steady while the other trailed up to your boob. He began playing with your nipple and you thanked God you didn't wear a bra that day.

You couldn't keep your head on straight anymore and you moaned softly.

"You like that you slut" You could feel him smiling against your neck and you could only moan in response. Gojo began kissing your neck softly while you started grinding against his hardening dick.

"Gojo" You moaned softly

"No, use my name, else I won't touch you," He said playfully. However, you were too horny to be defiant, so you used his name.

"That's my girl"

His hand moved down to your shorts, went under and he started playing with your pussy over your underwear. The sensations were too much, but not enough at the same. You needed proper stimulation. You were getting so wet yet were so deprived.

"Satoru, please touch me properly"

"Where? Be specific, princess. "

You were desperate at this point, and the games weren't fun anymore. "Oh my God, you're not stupid. Put your long ass fingers to good use and finger me."

" Well, if you speak to me like that, you can finger yourself then." That's when you grabbed his hand and shoved it in your underwear. Satoru was shocked he didn't think you'd take control even if it was a tiny bit , but he liked it. His fingers were long, and he knew how to use them. He curled them in all the right spots. "Fuckk," you moaned. " You're a loud one, I wonder what sounds will come out of you when my dicks inside you" You could only grind against his fingers in response. His free hand roamed over your body. He played with your boob and squeezed your thighs all the while he nibbled your neck. You could feel how hard he was against your ass . You took his hand out of your shorts and turned around, pushing him towards the couch. Satoru only smirked in response. " Wowww you like taking control, huh? " He laid back against the couch. " Well, yeah, since you seem to be going to slow. Take off your pants." You first removed your shorts, shirt and then climbed into his lap after he took off his sweats. "Seriously blue, the same colour as your eyes?" You muttered while climbing into his lap. You didn't give him a chance to respond because he started kissing him and grinding on him. This time, you made him moan. You placed his hands on your hips and then held his face. "You know Satoru you're gonna need to be more dominant if i decide to fuck you again" You whispered into his ear. You heard him mutter shut up before grabbing your face to make out with you. You didn't expect him to be such a sloppy kisser. But he was. You tangled your hands in his hair while moaning into the kiss. You felt his hand squeeze your ass then move to your hips. You silently thanked God once again that you wore your cute lacy thong instead of grandma panties. Then you silently cursed when you felt him rip them off. " You ass those were my favourites." You wanted me to be more dominant." he smiled while moving you under him. He took off his own underwear and stroked himself. You looked at his dick. He was long like his fingers.

You wished that you were about to have your world rocked, and boy, that wish come true. Judging a book by its cover you assumed Satoru Gojo didn't know how to fuck. You thought he'd be a lot like those guys who said they knew how to please a woman but learned everything they knew from porn stars and their clueless guy friends. You were wrong. Satoru gojo knew how to fuck.

He had your legs over his hips and pinned your hands above your head. He left bruising kisses all over your chest and neck. He paid careful attention to your boobs, sucking each nipple with care. And his thrust? His stamina was insane for such a skinny guy. You were sure the neighbours would know his name from how loud you were moaning his name. "Ahhh, right there, yes there." You moaned. " Fuck you feel so fucking good." " Fuckk I swear this pussy was made for me you're such a good slut" He babbled on and on. You felt that familiar feeling building up inside. And he felt it too with how your walls began to clench him. " Cum for me , cum on my dick like a good slut" he moaned. He left more bruising kisses on your tits before shoving his tongue in your mouth once more. His hand trailed down to your clit where he rubbed circles on them. That sent you over the edge. You felt your walls clench down and moaned so loudly it was closer to a scream. Satoru began thrusting faster, chasing his own high. "Where must I cum?" He asked " Inside" and that made him finish. He kissed you once again. "Well, we'll have to do that again" he said while moving to sit up on the couch. " So much for 3 months of celibacy ." you said aloud. He looked at you utterly confused. You sat up quickly. " You know, gojo, I thought I gave you the ick when you walked in on me shaving my armpit hair." He cocked his head and looked at you, "why the fuck would i be paying attention to your hair armpits when your boobs were right there" You laughed and swatted at him. Maybe living with him wouldn't be so bad.

a/n That took so fucking long. Endings kinda rushed. I'm sorry. I'm so tired. Idk how to end these appropriately anyways FIRST FIC DONE WOOHOO 🎉🎊 uhm please don't steal or copy thanks MWAH MWAH HOPE YOU ENJOYED MY SNOOKUMS.

[dondusthefirstconsul]

I'm gonna write my reply notes style because I can't form my thoughts in a well written comprehensive style because im honestly lost for words and this whole thing sucker punched me in the stomach and left my lungs without air it's so good

”We've been served a tragedy and you know what I don't like about that? The tragedy. What if it was a (dead serious) sitcom instead.” SO REAL is the tragedy good and well written? yeah but…. actually give me a sitcom made out of it instead

dysfunctional families are my favourite trope you have no idea theres just that SOMETHING ABOUT IT IS JUST SO so so so !!!!!!

the concept that the emperors’ power is effectively seized from them so that they can’t make decisions for the empire anymore until the day they might know how to rule better and while this is not okay with them it is surely a significant release of stress from their shoulders that are entirely incapable of actually handling all the power and responsibily – is amazing

”Two terrified children no one ever told how to rule. No one ever told how to win friends, how to build trust. No one ever told how to show compassion to, so you don't know how to show it to others, either. Just two miserable, entitled, privileged boys stuck in a world where they've never had anybody outside each other, so you just don't think further than yourselves.” honestly!!!!!! because YES they were so neglected and abused when they were growing up and now maybe they can be re-parented and raised if only someone cared enough to do it though imagining Acacius and Lucilla trying to re-parent them makes me laugh because holy shit thats going to be a nightmare job and the twins are not easy to manage and because they are basically fully grown men already their habits are s t u c k and not exactly easily reversed

I imagine they would throw huge tantrums at first because they are entitled and spoiled and what do you mean we’re not in power anymore and are being held in one room get us out of here this is not how it is supposed to be?! but would very soon be too terrified for their lives to do that anymore and would start to break down

and while the hate and the resentment Lucilla holds against the twins is so valid I can’t help but already long for the moment she might start to see them in a different light and maybe even start to care for them a little bit

Acacius accidentally being their father is so cute and so funny and I can already imagine him noticing that hes started to grow a little fond of them and it makes me CACKLE hes probably going to be like oh..shit....

but on a more serious note Acacius starting to see them as more human and less as cruel tyrants when they've been broken down and then starting to explore how far the damage has gone and what there is to salvage in them is such a good beautiful delicious concept

all about this is just so !!! talented brilliant incredible amazing showstopping spectacular never the same totally unique and I'm eating it uppp every last crumb

AND please feel free to correct me if I got anything about your fic wrong and also please feel free to say if I'm getting up over my head about this and need to calm down XDD

unhinged concept (I'm entering that stage): Lucilla actually does adopt Geta and Caracalla which ruins Acacius's life but also makes him their step-father and they finally get an actual father figure who teaches them how the fuck to hold swords and not be the worst people ever.

and we just cancel Macrinus entirely, which, I don't know what the hell happens to Lucius but that's someone else's unhinged concept to worry about.

And we put Caracalla on a leash because the boy cannot behave. That's no way to treat your mother

[rolandkaros]

hate my living situation i have to say.

[solargeist]

for over a week now i keep thinking abt grian and kid xelqua. something abt him taking care of this alternate universe child version of himself. i just stare at the ceiling and my eyes blur

[ganondoodle]

i dont think i have the right to ask this, since i so rarely have the energy to reply, but .. i want my drive to draw art back and this awful depression gone (or at least made less bad..) so desperately that i will bear the shame of asking it anyway, just in the hopes of something getting that spark i had held onto for so long to light back up

though .. im not sure what i want to ask for, i guess .. anything? something you'd like to see me draw, a compliment, a question- whether zelda or oc related, a little totk rant of your own, a picture of your cat, a random fun fact-

[lesbians4armand]

frankly while i understand people who found interview with the vampire boring compared to the insanity of the rest of the books, i feel like they are missing out on the heavy allegorical nature of it as a story of grief because i found it so so strong in that respect

[neige-leblanche]

i honestly think the stress of my job is bad for my health tbh

[unheavenlybody]

i wanna quit my job so bad but i like having money obviously i just gotta make it thru the holidays at least jesus christt. it shouldnt affect me so much but i hate it so much its not even hard but still draining

[skibasyndrome]

.

[luck-of-the-drawings]

when i was in highschool one o my biggest coping mechanisms was drawing all the kids i hated getting killed and eaten and killed. and well. time is a slowly ascending spiral. you will find patterns.(i work as a blackjack dealer. gamblers are FASCINATING

[arundolyn]

ohhhh my fucking god nobody needs to like know any of this medical tmi but it is literally 11 pm and if im kept up one minute longer when i just laid down trying to go to sleep by my mother YELLING REPEATEDLY that she needs to pee. im going to actually go insane. she got a catheter in. Yesterday. it is working. she won't listen to anyone when they tell her that this is the case. help me jesus. im sure if a nurse comes to check on her tomorrow they'll probably get the same response. my brain will simply explode