#come back to this one it's a good idea for later

[hoshifighting]

idk if someone asked you this but i’m a new reader and I REALLY REALLY LOVE YOUR WORKS!!!

can you please make wonwoo, the nerdy president who u thought was innocent and sweet but he’s the one behind ur fave nsfw audio creator???? AND HE’S A HARDFUCKER.. not what u expected tho..

i don’t know if i make sense but please pretty please 😭☝️

Synopsis: where you discover that the nerdy class president is the one man who creates the most nasty NSFW audios that you spend long nights listening to. WC: 2.8k WARNINGS: smut, audio porn, masturbation, hard fuck, dirty talk (obviously), bad sleeping habits (because of wonwoo), fingering, spanking, dirty talk, pussy eating, penetrative sex, protected sex, wonwoo whining, a lil invasion of privacy.

you’ve been running on fumes all day, the hazy buzz of sleep deprivation clinging to your brain like static. it’s no surprise, really. your night had gone the way it always does: you got home, flopped into your chair, threw on your headphones, and let onyx_lens—your favorite nsfw asmr creator—drag you under with that stupidly deep voice of his.

it was kind of pathetic, actually. you barely remember what the script was about—something about obedience or whatever—but you do remember the sound of his voice sinking into your brain like warm honey, making you cum so hard that you blacked the fuck out right after. now here you were, bleary-eyed and trying to stay upright in literature class, the regret of last night’s poor choices catching up with you.

wonwoo, the class president who was somehow both effortlessly chill and annoyingly observant, had been glancing at you every few minutes. you could feel his eyes on you as your head dipped forward for the third time, only to snap back up like a busted bobblehead.

but, in true wonwoo fashion, he didn’t say anything. no scolding, no judgmental sighs—just quiet observation.

when class finally ended, you were ready to yeet yourself into a nap for a solid 72 hours. you were shoving your stuff into your bag when wonwoo’s voice cut through the noise.

“you good?”

you froze. his voice wasn’t the same as onyx_lens’s, obviously, but it had that same deep, smooth timbre that made your brain short-circuit for a second. it didn’t help that his question sounded so much like something out of an nsfw script. you turned to face him, hoping your face wasn’t giving away how flustered you suddenly were. “uh—yeah,” you said, shaking your head a little too quickly. “just tired.”

wonwoo raised an eyebrow. “not sleeping well?”

your brain screamed. your tired, half-horny brain screamed louder. the overlap of his voice and onyx_lens in your head was un-fucking-bearable. you managed to nod, muttering something about late nights and deadlines, hoping he wouldn’t pry.

he didn’t, but his next question wasn’t much better.

“think you could help me with the sci-fi project? your last lit analysis was good, and i could use the extra pair of hands.”

you blinked at him. “me?”

he nodded, adjusting his glasses. “you. unless you’re too busy with...whatever’s keeping you up.”

oh, you mean my nightly sessions with onyx_lens and my vibrator?

you swallowed hard and tried to play it cool. “nah, i can help.”

and that’s how you found yourself standing outside wonwoo’s apartment later that evening, clutching your bag. his place was exactly what you’d expect from him—minimalist, neat, and smelling faintly of coffee.

“come in,” he said, holding the door open for you. “make yourself comfortable.”

easier said than done. you perched awkwardly on his couch as he set up his laptop on the coffee table, your eyes darting around the room in an attempt to ignore how nice his voice sounded in person.

“so,” he began, sitting across from you, “any ideas for the project?”

you cleared your throat, trying to focus. “uh, maybe something about robots and humanity? like, exploring ethical dilemmas or something.”

wonwoo nodded thoughtfully, his gaze fixed on you in a way that made your skin heat. “good idea. we could tie that into the main themes from class.”

he leaned forward slightly, scrolling through a document on his laptop, and you couldn’t help but notice how his glasses slipped down his nose. you were so not prepared for this level of proximity or his stupidly deep voice.

“you okay?” he asked again, glancing at you.

you blinked, realizing you’d been staring. “yeah, just...thinking.”

his lips twitched into a small, knowing smile. “good. let me know if you need a break or...anything.”

the way he said anything sent a shiver down your spine. you weren’t sure if it was exhaustion, residual arousal from last night, or the sheer presence of wonwoo in his element, but your brain was a mess.

you were supposed to be helping him with this project, but all you could think about was the way his voice would sound whispering in your ear, saying things that would make onyx_lens blush.

you were so close to winning the “most pathetic college student of the year” award it wasn’t even funny. after much back-and-forth with wonwoo, class president of your downfall, you somehow convinced him to let you walk home alone. except the man still went all soft and paid for a taxi anyway, which, like… thanks? but also stop being so nice, what the hell.

it was nearing 11 p.m. when you got home, and as if on cue, your phone pinged with a notification: onyx_lens’s weekly live is starting.

you stared at it for a second, blinking in disbelief. today’s theme? "neon circuits and orgasm denial (a cyberpunk experience) 8d audio"

sci-fi-themed. of fucking course.

you almost laughed at the audacity of the universe for this one. was this some sort of cosmic joke? was wonwoo onyx_lens?! no way. no goddamn way. you shook off the thought as delulu nonsense and dragged yourself to the bathroom for a quick sponge bath.

by the time you flopped into your chair, headphones on, the live was already in full swing. that voice—that stupidly deep, velvety voice—flooded your ears as the chat buzzed with unhinged comments. onyx purred, and you were done for.

you couldn’t even focus on the sci-fi plot he was spinning, something about rogue androids, monster cock, neon vibrators and human experimentation. his voice wrapped around you like a silk chokehold, and you were gone—just a vibrating mess in your chair, coming undone embarrassingly fast.

fast forward to the next morning: you woke up feeling like a used dishrag. again. headphones still on, your phone dead, and the memory of last night’s live replaying in your brain like a broken record.

by the time you dragged yourself to class, you were running on fumes and vibes. your hoodie was scrunched up around your face, making you look like a cross between a gremlin and an overgrown baby.

wonwoo noticed. you could feel his eyes boring into you as you tried—and failed—to stay upright. you were so close to just giving in and laying flat on the floor. honestly, it might’ve been comfier than your chair at that point.

wonwoo, sitting two rows away, looked like he was internally debating whether to intervene or let you rot in peace. when the bell rang, you startled awake like you’d been electrocuted, nearly knocking your stuff off your desk in the process.

“you okay?” he asked, falling into step beside you as you shuffled out of the classroom like a zombie.

“i’m fine,” you mumbled, voice muffled by your hoodie. “just need food. like, now.”

you detoured to the convenience store on the way to his apartment, snagging an entire kimbap roll and tearing into it like a starving animal. wonwoo followed behind, holding your water bottle with a look that was equal parts judgment and amusement.

“you couldn’t wait?” he asked, watching as you ate half the roll in one bite.

“bro,” you said around a mouthful of rice, “if i didn’t eat this, i was gonna pass out on the cold asphalt. your problem now, mr. class president.”

he rolled his eyes but didn’t argue, just handed you your water like the reluctant babysitter he was.

this was going to be a long afternoon.

you couldn’t help yourself. the suspicion had been eating away at you for weeks now, ever since you first heard his voice in class and that nagging sense of déjà vu set in. wonwoo had escaped to the bathroom, and you had the perfect opportunity to snoop.

your fingers hovered over his notebook, but then your gaze darted back to your own screen. back and forth, back and forth. his notebook. yours. the coincidences were piling up like a conspiracy wall in your head. the voice, the specific vocabulary choices, even the cadence—how did i not notice this earlier?!

“fuck it,” you whispered to yourself, grabbing his notebook and quickly pulling up the site where you normally streamed your favorite asmr creator. just to check. just to confirm your theory.

your heart pounded as the site loaded, every second dragging like molasses. the channel page opened, and at first, it seemed normal. too normal. you almost clicked away, feeling stupid for even suspecting anything.

but then you saw it: edit profile. analytics.

your breath caught, and a sharp scoff escaped you as you crossed your arms. oh, my god. the realization hit you like a freight train. it’s him. wonwoo. class president. sci-fi nerd. “how the fuck did i not notice?” you muttered, half impressed by his audacity.

you were so lost in your spiraling thoughts that you didn’t hear him return—until his voice, practically kissed your earlobe.

“what. do. you. think. you. are. doing?”

you jumped so hard your knee slammed into the underside of the desk. whipping around, you found wonwoo standing over you, his expression unreadable but his jaw tight.

“uh—nothing?” you stammered, trying to slam your laptop shut, but his hand darted out and stopped you.

“‘nothing’ doesn’t look like you snooping through my computer,” he said, his voice dangerously calm.

your cheeks burned. “okay, fine, maybe i was curious—”

“you were curious?” his tone sharpened. “curious enough to invade my privacy?”

“invade your—bro, you’re literally whispering dirty robot sex fantasies to the entire internet. how is that private?”

“that’s different!” his ears flushed a deep red, and you couldn’t tell if it was from anger or embarrassment. “that’s content. this—this is personal.”

you rolled your eyes, leaning back in your chair. “oh, please. you’re mad i figured it out. admit it.”

he leaned closer, towering over you now, his hand pressing down on the desk beside you. “what do you want, huh? blackmail? are you gonna tell everyone?”

you laughed, loud and incredulous. “tell everyone?! dude, relax. i’m not gonna expose your little side hustle. besides…” you smirked, tilting your head to look up at him. “you should be thanking me. clearly, i’m a fan.”

wonwoo’s eyes darkened, and his lips parted as if to say something, but no words came out. 

“you’re a what?” he asks, your pulse skyrocketing as he stepped even closer, crowding you against the chair.

“did i stutter?” you whispered, the challenge clear in your tone.

his mouth crashed onto yours, teeth and tongue and frustration. you barely had time to process it before he was yanking you out of the chair, his hands rough as they gripped your hips and spun you around.

“you want to act like a brat,” he growled into your ear, his voice so reminiscent of his asmr persona that it made you roll your eyes back slighty, “then you’re gonna get treated like one.”

he bent you over the desk, the cold surface pressing against your chest as he yanked down your college skirt and underwear at once. his fingers slid through your folds, already slick just from being around him.

“so fucking wet,” he muttered, almost to himself. “you get off on this, don’t you? knowing it’s me.”

“shut your mouth,” you gasped, but it came out more like a moan as he pushed two fingers inside you, curling them and pressing them hard on your front wall.

“make me,” he challenged, his other hand coming down sharply on your ass. the sting made you gasp, your hips jerking against his hand as you tense on the desk.

the pace of his fingers was relentless, his thumb circling your clit in time with the thrusts. every part of your body was starting to be feveirsh, and you hated—hated—how easily he was unraveling you. you spent nights thinking about how it would be if onyx fucked you, and here you are. of course you would be a mess in a second.

“sorry” he mocked you. “am i too much for you?”

you clenched around his fingers, your nails digging into the desk as you tried to hold back a moan. “you talk too fucking much actually wonwoo,” you hissed.

“yeah, that's what's paying me at nights” wonwoo chuckled darkly, pulling his fingers out and flipping you onto your back with his big arms. before you could protest, he was kneeling between your legs, his mouth suddenly hot and insistent against your core, better than any other vibrator you insisted on using at night.

the sounds—the wet, obscene sounds of his tongue—mixed with your whimpers as he devoured you like a man starved. his hands gripped your thighs, holding you open as you tried to squirm away from the overwhelming sensation.

“stop—”

“stop?” he looked up, his chin glistening. “not until you admit i’m your favorite.”

you glared down at him, breathless and defiant. “you’re such an asshole.”

“and yet…” he smirked, diving back in and flicking his tongue against your clit until your head fell back, a broken moan spilling from your lips.

it didn’t take long before you were coming undone, your body shaking as his mouth pulled your clit. wonwoo didn’t stop, didn’t even slow down, dragging out your orgasm until you were a trembling, incoherent chaos beneath him.

wonwoo doesn’t waste a second after pulling back, his hands flipping you over again so you’re bent over the desk, your cheek pressed to the cool surface as he grinds against you. the thick outline of his cock rubs against your dripping folds, still covered by the soft fabric of his grey sweatpants. you gasp, your hips jerking back involuntarily, and his pearly-white smile flashes above you.

“look at that,” he murmurs, almost smug, as a dark spot begins to spread on his sweatpants from your slick. “you’re soaking me through.”

the way he emphasizes the word makes your back contort in shivers, but you’re too far gone to care. your fingers claw at the desk as he keeps humping against you, his pace quickening. when he finally pulls back, you hear the shuffle of fabric as he yanks down his sweatpants and briefs. the soft clink of a drawer opening catches your attention, and you crane your neck to see him sliding on a condom.

“you’re still melting all over my desk,” he rubs a hand over the curve of your ass. “can’t even wait for me, huh?”

before you can respond, his hand comes down sharply on your ass, the sting making you gasp. he doesn’t stop, spanking you again and again until your skin is flushed and burning.

“you look so pretty like this,” he says, his hand smoothing over the heated skin before gripping your waist and lining himself up. “all messy and desperate for me.”

when he pushes in, stretching you inch by inch until you’re full and breathless, pussy trying to clench at his big grith to adjust. wonwoo groans, his head falling forward as he sinks in to the hilt.

your walls flutter around him, and he moans at the feeling, the sound so real and raw that it sends a jolt straight to your core.

“talk to me,” you manage to gasp, your voice muffled against the desk.

he chuckles, his pace picking up as he leans down to whisper in your ear. “you want me to talk dirty? you want me to tell you how tight you are? how good you’re taking me?”

you moan in response, your hips bucking back against him as his words send you curling.

“yeah, you like that, don’t you?” he continues, his voice thick with lust. your moans grow louder, and he suddenly remembers the videos you must’ve listened to—the whining, the moaning. the thought makes his stomach flip, and he decides to give you exactly what you want.

he starts letting out soft whimpers, his voice breaking with each thrust, the sounds spilling out almost involuntarily. “fuck, babe, you’re gonna make me cum—”

the genuine desperation in his voice drives you wild, and your body clenches around him, pulling him deeper. he groans, his hands gripping your hips so tightly you’re sure they’ll leave marks, but you don’t care.

“please,” he moans, his voice high and strained. “let me cum for you. let me—fuck—”

you push back against him, meeting his thrusts as your own climax builds, your breaths coming in short, broken gasps. the room is filled with the wet, obscene sounds of your bodies moving together, and the tension snaps all at once.

you come hard, your body shaking as you cry out, and wonwoo isn’t far behind. his hips stutter, a guttural moan escaping him as he spills into the condom, his body trembling with the force of it.

he collapses over you, his chest heaving against your back as you both try to catch your breath. after a moment, he presses a soft kiss to the back of your neck, his voice still hoarse as he murmurs, “guess i’m a little better live, hm?”

you just let out a defeated moan, the coldness of the table soothing your hot cheeks.

“keep quiet about this, and i'll keep giving you more.” well, it's just an excuse that wonwoo said to fuck you over again.

[beloveds-embrace]

The day begins like any other.

You wake up to the soft sound of the morning breeze rustling the curtains, sunlight spilling into the room in gentle golden streams. John is already gone, leaving only the faintest trace of warmth in the bed beside you. It’s no surprise- he’s a man of duty, all of them are, always rising early to tend to matters of the estate. But as you stretch and let out a soft sigh, you have no idea the storm you’re about to stir in his household.

You dress yourself today, in one of the lighter gowns Kyle had set out for you the night before. It’s soft and flowing, another gift from Simon, a delicate ivory fabric that catches the light and makes you glow as if spun from sunlight itself. You think nothing of it- it’s a comfortable gown, one that’s perfect for the warm weather of today. You fix your hair, a few strands left free to frame your face. It’s a simple look, practical even.

But it is enough to absolutely ruin them.

John is the first to catch sight of you.

You find him in his study, poring over letters and documents, glasses perched low on his nose. The moment he looks up, his quill halts mid-stroke, ink dripping onto the parchment below.

You don’t notice the way his breath hitches. You don’t see the way his eyes darken as they sweep over you, lingering far longer than they should on the soft curve of your throat, the swell of your breasts just barely visible through the gauzy material of your dress, the delicate shape of your collarbone begging to be kissed.

“… My Duchess,” he greets, voice low and strained.

You smile, unaware of how the simple gesture strikes him like a bolt of lightning straight through his chest. “Good morning, John. I didn’t mean to disturb you- I was just going to the gardens.”

His jaw tightens. God, you’re beautiful. Ethereal. Untouchable, almost, and yet here you are- his wife. His to hold, his to cherish, his to adore. The mere thought of it makes his heart pound painfully in his chest.

You’re so sweetly oblivious, so utterly trusting. You lean over his desk, pointing at one of the letters as you ask about estate matters, and all he can focus on is the faint scent of roses lingering on your skin and the warmth of your breath against his cheek. He aches to pull you into his lap, to ruin that pretty dress and leave you breathless and marked, but-

“My Duchess,” he rasps again, standing abruptly. You blink up at him, startled. “Don’t linger in the sun too long. I shall see you later.” It’s the only warning he can give himself before he brushes past you and leaves the room, his restraint hanging by a thread.

Kyle finds you next, standing in the rose garden with a soft smile as you hum to yourself. You’re radiant, the sunlight catching in your hair and making you glow like some goddess of nature.

He was supposed to be bringing you tea. Instead, he stands there frozen, tray in hand, just watching.

You turn and catch sight of him, greeting him with that bright, lovely smile that never fails to make his heart lurch. “Kyle!”

He clears his throat quickly, straightening his shoulders and bringing the tray over, though he’s painfully aware of the warmth creeping up his neck.

“My lady,” he murmurs, setting the tea down on the garden table and pouring for you. His hands are steady, but his mind isn’t.

He barely hears you as you speak about the roses, about the arrangements for the next gathering. His thoughts are clouded by the way you keep brushing your hair behind your ear, the gentle tilt of your head as you sip your tea, the way your lips press together so sweetly.

You lean forward suddenly, reaching to brush a leaf off his shoulder, and Kyle stiffens. You don’t notice.

“You’re always taking such good care of me, Kyle,” you say softly, smiling up at him. “Thank you.”

He doesn’t trust himself to speak. He only nods stiffly, stepping back quickly before he does something utterly improper.

Johnny is the worst of them.

You come into the kitchen around noon, asking him for a small snack to hold you over until dinner since you had a small lunch. He’s elbow-deep in flour and dough, sleeves rolled up and shirt slightly damp with sweat, but the second he sees you standing in the doorway, his brain completely short-circuits.

“Johnny?” you call again softly, stepping in.

He drops the spoon that’d been near, cursing as he scrambles to pick it up and then cursing again because his hands are now dirty. Yet- his eyes keep flicking up to you- how you look so soft and delicate in the kitchen’s golden light, how the dress hugs your figure and makes it so damn hard for him to focus.

You laugh at the sight of him like this, and the sound is like honey poured straight into his veins.

“Sorry, m’lady.” he says, voice rough, but you’re already stepping closer.

“It’s alright.” You reach past him to grab a plate, and he just about groans aloud at the way you brush against him, soft and warm and plush and utterly unaware of the effect you have on him.

“Johnny?” You look up at him, eyes so wide and trusting.

“Yeah?” He barely recognizes his own voice.

“You’re staring.”

He chokes, turning back to wash his hands as quickly as possible. “Sorry, m’lady. I’ll- uh- I’ll make something quick for you, promise.”

You only smile, sitting down at the counter and watching him work. He feels your gaze like a brand, burning into his skin, and he has never been so grateful for the long apron covering the very obvious evidence of his distraction.

And then there’s Simon.

You don’t even realize he’s there, watching you from the shadowed corner of the room as you flip through the books in the library. You hum softly to yourself, trailing your fingers over the spines, your dress shifting with every movement.

Simon feels like a beast barely kept on a leash. He’s gripping the edge of the shelf so tightly his knuckles have gone white, jaw clenched so hard it aches.

He wants you. Needs you.

You tilt your head to read a title, exposing the curve of your neck, and his breath catches. He imagines what it would feel like to press his lips there, to hear you gasp as he holds you close-

And then you turn and spot him.

“Simon!” You smile, moving toward him without hesitation, and he’s utterly undone.

“Hello, darling.” he murmurs, low and strained. Knows that he if lifts his hand to cup your cheek, his fingers would be trembling.

“I was just looking for something to read.” You say, so casually, so obliviously, as if you aren’t standing there looking like every single one of his fantasies come to life.

Simon only nods, forcing himself to step back before he does something he can’t take back.

By the time evening falls, the tension in the house is unbearable.

John’s jaw ticks as he watches you lean over the table, in a private dining room just for them, laughing at something Johnny said. Kyle’s eyes darken when he sees how your fingers brush against Simon’s as you pass him a dish. Johnny keeps flexing his hands as if he’s trying to resist the urge to grab you and pull you into his lap.

They’re all desperate, wound tight, and utterly at their limit.

And you- blissfully unaware- just keep smiling sweetly at them, unknowingly fanning the flames.

[cressidagrey]

Such A Mystery - Part 8

Pairing: Max Verstappen x Colette Leclerc (Original Character)

Summary:

Max Verstappen fell in love at the ripe old age of 12 and never looked back.

Colette Leclerc really regrets posting that particular Taylor Swift Lyric to her private Instagram account, because it made George Russell go insane.  

The rest of the world has absolutely no idea that the Dutch Lion and Charles Leclerc’s twin sister have been a couple for 15 years and are expecting a baby. 

Warnings: 

Pregnancy, Mention of multiple miscarriages, Pregnancy complications, George Russell Bashing (he's probably really nice in real life but in this, he's the bad guy, sorry), Jos Verstappen, We have apparently now reached the time where I also bash Ferrari. I am sure they are super nice in real life too. They are not in this.

Author Notes: Huge thanks to @llirawolf for holding my hand through this. Chapter 8 of...who knows.

Sadly, Max didn’t get to push George Russell of the track. Instead he accidentally hit Oscar in the first corner, which definitely hadn’t been on purpose…and also resulted in another penalty point and a 10 second penalty.

He was really done with this season.

At the same time, Charles carved his way up from P19 to P2 in which, what Max was pretty sure, could only be described as going on the warpath. Max was honestly just impressed at the speed with which Charles had managed to claw himself up to P2, and he would have applauded the effort if he hadn’t been so damn frustrated with everything else.

At this point, he just wanted to get the race done and over with and go home. He'd have time to worry about the penalty later - he just wanted to get this race over the finish line so that he could get a flight to Monaco and to Colette.

With that thought in mind, the last 12 laps went by in a blur, and it felt like no time at all until the checkered flag appeared.

For the first time all season, Max didn’t bother trying to push beyond the limit for an extra few seconds of time.Because quite frankly, it didn’t actually matter.

McLaren had gotten the constructor championship for the first time in 26 years.

"t may not have been the fastest race but I just wanted to say a big thank you for the season, guys. It hasn’t been easy at times, we still have quite a few things to improve on but we still won a world championship.  So, thank you for all the hard work the whole year," Max said into the radio. "Enjoy your time off and then we’ll go back at it again next year. Thank you, guys."

And now Max finally got to go home to Colette.

GP's voice came over the radio. "Get weighed and then we need you to come into the garage as quickly as possible, Max." 

Max furrowed his brows at the words. That was…odd. Why would he need to go to the garage immediately?

"Is everything alright?" he demanded. 

GP didn’t answer immediately, which did nothing to diminish Max’s worry.

His heart skipped a beat when the engineer finally responded, hesitantly. “Just come to the garage, please. Quickly.”He had wanted to apologise to Oscar about their incident in the first corner at the start, but that was quickly forgotten, at the tone in GP's voice.

It sounded alarmed and anxious, and that got Max's heart racing. Something was wrong, something was wrong, and he needed to get to the garage to find out what it was.

It took him an incredible amount of self-restraint not to outright bolt out of the car and charge into the garage, but he somehow managed to get out of the car, weighed himself in and all but dashed towards the garage.

"GP?!" he called out as he stormed into the garage. "What the hell is going on? What’s wrong? Why-"

GP was the one who dragged him into one of the side rooms, where no cameras would see the exchange that followed. There was Christian waiting, as well as his father. 

This wasn't good.

The sight was alarming enough to make him freeze. His heart seemed to skip a beat.

"I-” Max cut himself off, staring at the three men. "What- what's going on?"

"Colette is in labour," Christian answered. "Her brother Arthur texted me. Your pilot filed flight plans thirty minutes ago. There is a car waiting to take you to the airport."

For a moment, Max’s brain just froze altogether, his thoughts screeching to a halt.

His vision wavered as the words echoed in his head, and he had to reach out and grab a hold of the wall next to him as his legs tried to buckle.

He couldn’t have read those words right. There was no way - she had four more weeks. They had more time, Colette couldn’t be in labour.

But it was GP's voice that was cutting through the fog in his head. “Max.  Are you with us?”

Max had to take a deep breath, forcing his mind into action.

"Yeah," he heard himself croak out. The only thought in his mind was that he had to get to the airport. He had to get home as fast as he possibly could.

“We need to get Charles," he demanded. “I don’t care how you do it. I’ll pay whatever ridiculous fine the FIA demands. But if he finds out I left without him, he’s going to kill me.”

There was no doubt about that. 

Max was dimly aware that all three men were looking at him with varying levels of sympathy - but he didn’t care. He only had one thought in his mind, and that was getting to Colette as soon as goddamn possible.

"Gemma is getting him right now," Christian promised him. "I already talked with Ferrari...or screamed at them, that is more likely. So did Arthur apparently. I need to warn you though, the press is swarming outside, especially after your father's little interview," he said darkly.

"What interview?" Max asked, staring at his father. What interview were they talking about?!

"I talked to Sky News about your anger issues," his father said drily.

"Correction," GP snapped. "You told Sky News that Colette and Max are a couple and that their baby is due any day."

It took a moment for the words to sink in, and they were like a punch to the gut. His father had done what?

"You told the damn media she’s having our baby?" he exclaimed, staring at the older man. "Have you completely lost your mind?!"

"No, I merely said it’s due any day," Jos snapped. "Not that it's actually on the way. Calm down, I only said it because you need to stop denying that you two are an item, it’s getting ridiculous!"

Max honestly didn’t even know how to react to the words. Normally, he would’ve been furious right now. His father had just gone and announced their private life to the entire world. And if that wasn’t bad enough, the fact that Colette was currently in labour…

"He also said and I quote It took them long enough, they definitely practiced enough!" GP snapped, looking and sounding more furious than Max had ever seen him before. 

For a moment, Max almost choked and he whirled to his father, his eyes wide. "You-" the words got stuck in his throat. "We’ve been trying for nearly three years. Colette had two miscarriages!"

All of a sudden, the anger that had been boiling inside of Max just evaporated into thin air, leaving only cold, burning rage behind. He took a shuddering breath, his whole body trembling violently. "How. Dare. You," he spat. Even he was surprised how menacing it sounded, but he was also way beyond caring.

"You never said," his father said, nearly silently.

“Clearly I had a good reason,” Max bit out. “We lost two babies. And you are telling us that we took our time? How. Dare. You."

There was a flicker of something in his father’s eyes, which looked awfully similar to pain and regret, but Max was far too furious to care about some kind of guilt.

"You have no right-" he bit out, his voice trembling with anger, "No right to talk or say anything about-"

"It was already out anyway," his father defended himself.

The words made Max freeze again, and he slowly straightened, the cold fury rushing through his veins and making him feel lightheaded. He clenched his jaw, fighting to find the right words, even if he was pretty sure he was about to completely lose it.

“Another word. About her, about our baby. About either of them,” he snarled, his words low and dripping with venom. “ And I will have absolutely no problem with completely and permanently cutting you out of my life, vader.  You’ll be dead to me. To Colette. To our baby. Is. That. Clear? Colette is not something that we are going to negotiate about. It didn’t work when I was 15. It‘s not working now!"

Surprisingly enough, Jos didn’t reply. The only sound in the room was of Max’s ragged breathing.

He didn’t notice Christian’s worried glance in his direction, but GP’s low and quiet voice cut through his thoughts. "Max."

Max flinched, and he forced himself to get a grip. For a half a second, he couldn’t bring himself to turn to look at the people around him.

Finally, he straightened, forcing his legs to move and his mouth to form a response. “Yeah.”

“There is a car waiting. Go,” GP told him calmly. There really wasn’t any reason to linger, and if he were to say anything else, he was in serious risk of exploding.

Max took a deep breath and moved towards the door, the need to see Colette driving every thought out of his mind.

All the anger and adrenaline made it very easy to push through the hoard of reporters and journalists waiting just outside the garage, his mind laser focused.

There were cameras flashing and reporters shouting questions, but he ignored them all. His only priority was to get to Colette.

At the same time as his single-minded determination helped him to power through the throng of people and reach the car waiting for him, his mind was also whirling with a thousand different questions.

What happens if the baby came right now? What if something went wrong? What if-

***

Charles had known that something was wrong. But then...he had been having that feeling for days. Colette was feeling anxious and scared and angry and a thousand other things and Charles would have known that she was feeling that way, even if he hadn't texted her. 

They had always known if something was wrong with each other. They had always known what the other one was feeling.

That had always been their connection…He loved his brothers more than anything. He did. But they weren’t Colette. They weren’t his twin sister. 

Two lives, two halves of one whole. He would never feel complete without Colette. 

Charles could always tell if something was wrong with his twin. And for days now, something had been very, very wrong.

And still he had soldiered on. He had dragged his car from P19 up to P3. Just behind Carlos...two podiums for Ferrari but not enough to clinch the constructor's championship.

He had only done so because he had known that Colette was never gonna let him hear the end of it if he didn't do his very best.

Just like she had been with him during that Formula 2 race less than 48 hours after their father had died…and she had told him to get into that damn car and race in circles, she had done the same this time. 

And he had listened. 

Of course, he had. 

Still...he had never been more thankful that a Race was over than he was of this one. He was just happy that it was over. 

He followed along to the cooldown room on autopilot, Lando already, then Carlos following after him.

The absolute drama that went down there next...well, it simply started with a commotion. And screaming.

The next things they knew, there was Camilla, PR from Ferrari, in what could only be described as a screaming match with Gemma from Red Bull...with security following along as Gemma more or less threw herself into the cooldown room, completely ignoring what anybody else was telling her. 

Charles stared, utterly bewildered. What the hell was going on here? 

Why was Gemma here, literally shoving her way into the cooldown room and throwing herself at him, security struggling to stop her?

"He deserves to know!" Gemma snapped at Camilla. "You cannot keep this from him! This is about his family. We have tried to talk to Ferrari, you are either ignoring our calls or telling us that there is no way you'll tell him until after the interviews are done. What is wrong with you?"

“What the hell is going on?” Charles managed to finally find his voice. What was happening? What were they talking about? What the hell was wrong with Ferrari? "Someone, anyone, give me an answer!"

The only person who seemed willing to answer was Camilla and the look on her face was completely unapologetic. "You are a Ferrari driver," she said simply, as if that explained everything. "There is nothing that goes on with you while you are driving that takes precedence over your job."

"He isn't driving now," Gemma snapped, as she turned towards Charles. "Your sister is in the hospital. Max's pilot has filed flight plans. There is a car waiting to bring you both back to Monaco."

That got Charles' attention like nothing else would have done. In one second, he went from baffled confusion to absolute shock and alarm. His eyes widened, his heart beginning to pound as adrenaline and fear suddenly flooded his system. "She's...she's...what?" he asked hoarsely.

"In the hospital," Gemma repeated, giving him a pointed look.

"What happened?" Lando demanded suddenly. "Is Colette alright?"

"Is something wrong with the baby?" Charles choked out. 

With the baby. No. No. Not again. 

He had seen his sister utterly heartbroken twice about her two miscarriages. 

And these two miscarriages had been horrible. Heartbreaking. Devastating. Had destroyed her. But they hadn't been...They had been early on in the pregnancy.

They hadn't been after Colette had spent months pouring over baby name books and buying things for the nursery, after she had let him feel the baby kick in her belly...after...after all of this...

"What baby?!" Lando blurted out suddenly, but Charles ignroe that. 

"Max's pilot has filed flight plans. There is a car waiting to bring you both back to Monaco," Gemma repeated. "But you need to come with me now, Charles.” 

"He's not coming with you!" Camilla snapped. "Charles has media obligations!"

"I don't give a fuck about my media obligations!" Charles snapped back at her. He was literally shaking with the sheer strength of his anger. "My sister is in the hospital! I am going. Now."

Charles didn't wait for a response. He was already headed towards the exit, his blood thundering in his ears as confusion and fear and anger raced through his body. The only thing that was going through his head was Colette was in the hospital, Colette was in the hospital, Colette. was. In. The. Hospital.

If anybody tried to stop him now, he would have absolutely no problem going straight through them.

"You are a Ferrari driver," Camilla growled.

"And," Charles snarled, whipping around to look at her. "I am a brother. And a twin. And she is my other half. She is in the damn hospital, and you tried to keep that information from me. What, did Ferrari think that I just wouldn’t care?"

That seemed to render her speechless for a moment, but only for a moment. "We believed," she said coldly, with an undercurrent of anger beneath. "That you would remain professional and focus on your job as you were paid to do so."

"Are you serious?" Lando snapped at that moment. "His sister is in the hospital and you want him to do interviews!?"

"I was not speaking to you, Norris," Camilla said, in a voice that could freeze water. "It is none of your business. We are trying to deal with a delicate public relations issue here that you don't understand."

"I have sisters too," Carlos snapped. "And you better believe that if one of them was in the hospital, I would be there too." 

"Go," Lando told Charles at that moment. "GO."

Charles didn't need to be told twice. He was already halfway out the door. There was only one thought on his mind. Colette.

[sthilarions]

Charles almost gets killed by a torture hex. Pain is the most effective way to kill a ghost, and Charles is so so strong but not built for suffering like Edwin is, and Charles is already fading when Edwin finally finds the right counter-spell and drags him back to solidity.

Two days later, Charles gets almost torn in half by a giant monster, and Edwin knits him back together with giggling ringing in his ears and green light at the corners of his vision. Edwin’s hands dig into Charles’s wounds and pull Charles back together with a combination of magic and sheer force of will and every twitch of Edwin’s fingers drags tortured sounds out of Charles’s mouth, and it’s right about when Edwin pulls the last bit of skin together and Charles screams that Edwin thinks please, God, Despair, Death, whoever is there, whoever cares, let me take his pain, I’d take all of his pain to never have him hurt again.

It’s another day after that, when he’s reading through a book of healing spells to find a way to make sure this never happens again, that he gets an idea.

It’s another week, full of research and muttering and scribbled runes, before he comes to Charles with what is, as far as Charles knows, a pretty standard request. “I’ve found another protection spell for you. Stand there - to your left a little - good. It can’t stop you from getting injured, but it will take most or all of the pain of the injuries.”

“Oh, wow, that’s brills, mate! I could fight way better like that. I mean, pain is almost all ghost injuries are, anyway, yeah? That’s amazing!”

Edwin casts the spell, handwritten across several sheets of paper, and the glow as it sets in to Charles’s skin blanks out his vision long enough that he doesn’t see Edwin’s skin flush golden, too.

Edwin declines Charles’s suggestion to test the spell outside of combat, so Charles is still a little unsure for the first fight, but when he gets slashed with a cat-claw blade and feels absolutely nothing, he looks down at himself, grins almost maniacally, and wades back into the fight like he’s unstoppable.

He does seem to be, in fact. He fights like Superman, all but invulnerable, and Edwin says his combat efficiency has increased over 30 percent. He throws himself at monsters and ghosts and demons and takes them down with barely a twinge, no matter how hard they hit.

Edwin’s taken to standing further back than he used to in fights, which Charles figures is because the fights are getting into melee more than they used to.

They’re fighting some bastard with a hellwhip, all fire and iron barbs, when the first thing goes wrong. Charles gets hit, and he feels the twinge that’s all he gets from the worst hits now, but through the twinge he hears Edwin gasp.

He turns to Edwin and the whip hits him square in the back as he turns, and Edwin lets out a strangled groan.

Edwin seems to realize Charles is too distracted to do his job, because he dispatches the whippy bastard with a spell, and Charles is to him in a moment. But Edwin snaps and brushes him off and demands to tend to Charles’s injuries, because not hurting doesn’t mean they can’t be dangerous. As he tends to the wounds, Edwin’s breath keeps hitching, and Charles can’t get him to say why.

A week later and Charles gets hit with that same damn torture hex, because apparently they didn’t do a good enough job of defeating that wizard the first time. And he thinks for a second that this might be what finally breaks through Edwin’s protection spell, but it’s still only a twinge, albeit the harshest one yet - but Edwin lets out a suffocated yelp from behind him.

Charles starts to turn, and the wizard looks frustrated, and throws the hex at Charles again. And Edwin goes down to his knees.

And the wizard hexes Charles again, and Edwin curls forward, his breath in quiet pants that for a second are the focus of Charles’s entire world.

Charles puts some things together very, very quickly, and then before the wizard can try another spell, his head’s rolling on the floor.

—

Edwin has never seen Charles this angry at anyone, not in the thirty-one years they’ve been together. He had never imagined that Charles could possibly be this angry at him.

—

Charles screams at Edwin for hours, tears dripping down his face and vanishing before they hit his chest.

He pauses every hour or so and demands Edwin take off the fucking “protection spell” right fucking now, and every time Edwin refuses, and Charles starts yelling again.

Normally crying makes Charles’s throat hurt, one of the few bits of quotidian pain that stuck with him to ghost-hood. He doesn’t notice that it isn’t hurting now until a bit after sunrise, when Edwin refuses again, and Charles notices his voice is hoarse and tight.

Charles stops.

He turns away.

“No more cases, Edwin.”

“What?”

“I am not working on any cases, I am not doing anything that could put either of us in danger, until this spell is off.”

“You can’t - “

“I’ll see you later, Edwin.”

Charles walks out of the office, and Edwin stands staring after him.

—

It takes a month. A month of Charles spending time out of the office, and chilly silences, and Edwin trying to make arguments for his position and only getting a few words in before Charles is out the door.

Charles gets back, one day, to see Edwin sitting on the floor of the closet, holding a box of Cluedo in his lap, which they haven’t used since Charles found out.

“I’ll take it off.” Edwin’s looking down at the box, refusing to meet Charles’s eyes. Charles nods.

It doesn’t take very long for Edwin to work the counter-spell, and Charles immediately tests it, grabs for the first magical weapon in his bag and presses it against his hand. It hurts, and he presses harder until there’s a drop of blood and it’s accompanied by just as much sharp sting as it should be.

Edwin doesn’t say anything about Charles believing Edwin might be tricking him, because Charles isn’t wrong to, because he had, before. And if Charles doesn’t trust him anymore, that’s his right.

Charles sighs, looking down at his hand, then looks up at Edwin. “If you ever break my trust like that again, I’ll - “ he breaks off and looks back down. He sighs again.

“I won’t do anything. I’ll forgive you, because I’ll always forgive you, Edwin. But - please, please, please never do anything like that again, I can’t take it.”

Charles is crying, and his throat hurts.

Edwin’s voice is hoarse too, as he promises, never, never again.

And Edwin’s far too far away, Charles thinks. He has been for the last month. For longer, pulling far away during fights and after them - but it’s best not to think about that. With his mind resolutely on the present, Charles steps over the space between them and pulls Edwin into his arms.

“Let’s play some Cluedo, yeah?”

[xxxstraightfromtheheartxxx]

Read my tags first, ran out of space.

Note: I change my mind a few times throughout this text post, what I began with is not entirely what I ended with. And I’m not even sure of the ‘conclusion’ I got to. However I’m too tired to try and figure the rest out about it right now. Might change this post later when I have made up my mind or got more questions about it. Heads up! Spelling- and other mistakes in writing, were made. Frequently.

I know my tags make me a hypocrite and that’s one of the judgemental thought processes I’ve been fighting/growing against most for a while now.

I expect people to think similarly to me about this and that’s not within my right, they don’t owe me anything for the choice I decided to make and put the hard work in for. That I’ve suffered for it and for the patience I’ve had to bring up towards others being judgemental and having prejudices they didn’t fight within themselves. The frustration I keep feeling every time I have to explain to other adults how to respect accept and see minorities or marginalised groups as equal in worth to themselves. It’s so tiring, and I’m just white, I can’t imagine what it must be like to try and have these conversations to protect yourself and your family and friends and loved ones over and over again whilst still experiencing racist comments assumptions treatment behaviour bullying exclusion exploitation… through systemic racism, racist communities,through so many facets of their lives.

I feel like I’ve been shouting for equality. Not sure if that’s the best most respectful word for it in english, in my language literally translated our word means ‘equally worthy”. And to me that means that from birth we should all be treated with the same amount of respect love and acceptance. It’s only society, nurture that causes this inequality to exist, that not only allows but encourages prejudices and othering for power. Shouting at people who seemingly just refuse to open their eyes, minds and hearts and keep humanity from growing into healthier behavioural patterns in the future. They refuses to put in more effort to try our best to avoid wars, make the idea of hurting another person out of anything other than self defence, be heavily rejected, punished. Instead of not saving each other out of fear for economic and political threats to our own habitants and countries. To be unified so firmly by the absolute belief that violence is wrong, that those fears wouldn’t even be an issue because we’re all know all the other countries will still have our backs and we’d be able to function without the country that’s trying to start or continue a war, while only having to put in mild effort to be entirely independent from the threatening county, as humanity instead of as “individual countries”. It would cut the county/group at war of their resources entirely, which would endanger them to much to be able to actually be able to hold out being at war and making an actual big difference in the big picture of our common humanity. I know there are many weapons that could destroy so many at the same time, yet they would be poisoning the ground they so gladly wish to live on. (Ofcourse this is an ideal that is almost utopian).

This is the goal I thought we were all collectively working towards throughout our entire lives. To eventually be able to all come together in the far away future. All of the warmhearted people in the world.

And therefore we have to start within our small circle of influence and be open to try and learn to understand and respect each other with our differences and similarities, To expect people to be good and ourselves to put effort in it.

However completely swerved away from my original point. But it is the root of that frustration, hurt, disappointment and envy I experience when I see or hear or feel negative judgement .

People have been calling me stern and too strict and rigid in thought more in the last 4 years. It’s because I’ve been responding to prejudices and discriminatory behaviour and ideas verbally, and I have to admit about 50% of the time quite hard, not disrespectful, but clear. I’ve been setting boundaries over what way there can be spoken about others and myself with me. This week I even threatened to leave the room and wouldn’t continue conversing with them if they didn’t then stop casually using the n-word, while knowing it is wrong and hurtful and what my opinion and feeling was towards it. They called my stern and frowned and sighed but at least could bring it up not to say it with me around anymore. I know I haven’t changed their behaviour without my presence this way and it saddens me to feel them rejecting that part of myself that’s at the core of me. My moral core believe of equality.

When people won’t widen their view for one minority it makes me feel unsafe as part of multiple other minorities. I’m a queer womxn with persistent mental health issues, who isn’t able to work because of it and I’m neurodivergent and have some invisible fysical issues (I have loads of allergies which used to give me big rashes of eczema in my envoys and knees and later hands and feet, it has improved a lot, the amount of allergies keeps expanding though) ( I have a very small amount of energy compared to most people my age because of having to put in too much effort as a child and teen) to take care of others and secretly fighting feelings of depression). I’m lucky to be middle-class, white and have affordable healthcare here. All of these other aspects have made life harder for me throughout my entire life. Yet others have mostly blamed me and pestered me, excluded and avoided me for my inabilities and difference, including the inability to l love men.

It feels unfair that I try so hard to be accepting, understand and respectful of others, and not get the same amount of effort and care back… which is hypocrite of me, because the people I want to make the biggest changes never asked me to do all that. And while their lives are often so much easier specifically on the those societal aspects, does that make them owe me that effort back?

I feel like yes, they should, because they have more space for it, for questioning their prejudices than us. Because of the privileges of the main beliefs in their society, they didn’t have to lift a finger for throughout their entire lives. For all of the freedom and respect they’ve just got thrown in their laps, that took up so much of our lives for us to assemble a resemblance to their quality of life.

(Many people who have to fight for their lives daily, do not have that time or space so they only get to grow slower and are part of minority or marginalised groups as well. Bc evidently their is a lot of prejudice within those groups towards the other groups who are also being pressed down.)

I don’t know if I still think it’s hypocrite of me to expect people to put effort in being good. I don’t think so. The length they are able to go through to make those improvements however, I should bare in mind stronger again, like I used to.

If I give up on following my moral compass on this, I’ll never be the person I hope to be one day. I do feel like I deserve to give myself a break and be forgiving about those negative thoughts because they come from a desire for righteousness and good. Recognise, reject, correct, forgive and trust that I’ll do better next time because it is what I truly want to in the long run. I show myself to not always respond and to better pick my battles, so I can persevere and rebuild my energy for when I can make a bigger impact In the braided context or my own. However when I notice bad behaviour or judgement towards others, I do use little parts of it to give them a correcting look or to speak up for someone else or recently even for myself.

Totally did not see this rant coming!!

I knew this theme has been more at the front of my mind again recently and that I’ve been prickly about it, yet I hasn’t reflected on its origin as deeply as I did just now. So here, little amount of people this will reach, have some personal information from my brain and my heart.

.

I’ve been typing this for so long and my attention span has loosened throughout writing. I don’t supposes I’ve managed to make everything clear, I got more and more tired and created some weird sentence structures and maybe grammar and def phrasing to try to get my point through or at least comprehended.

Don’t come at me about the war part, I know it is unrealistic to achieve anything like that in our lifetimes.

Yet I’m holding onto this dream for dear life. Otherwise what is there? To grow towards, to live for? It all comes to recognising, appreciating, sharing and maintaining the good there is now and nurturing the good to come.

The way you change your immediate reactions to things is that you catch yourself having an uncharitable/bigoted/overly judgmental thought and you catch it and replace it and then you do that a hundred times a day for your whole life and eventually one day like five years later you realize that you think differently now and you’ll always be working on something but that’s how life goes and that’s fine.

[notrebdomine]

Eric Harris medication

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶

As most people know, Eric was on Luvox, but before Luvox he took Zoloft. "In a visit to his general physician, Eric's medical records indicate "possible depression" and "mild/ minimal depressive symptoms." In small words, both (Luvox and Zoloft) are SSRI, or "selective serotonin reuptake inhibitor." It increases the amount of serotonin, sometimes called the "feel good" chemical, in the brain.

The first Luvox prescription listed by Breggin comes on April 25, 1998 for twenty-five milligrams. It was doubled to fifty milligrams just over a month later, and doubled again another month later, in early July. Breggin writes that three and a half months before Columbine, the prescriptions indicate Eric's dose was increased. Breggin also writes that on March 13, 1999, just over one month before Columbine, the medical record notes, "It's 'OK' to increase the dose to 200 mg. per day."

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶

His point of view about taking medication

Eric would go through periods of taking his medication and going off of it. Below is a journal entry that he wrote in regards to his thoughts on being put on medication.

"My doctor wants to put me on medication to stop thinking about so many things and to stop getting angry. well, I think that anyone who doesn't think like me is just bullshitting themselves. try it sometime if you think you are worthy, which you probably will you little shits, drop all your beliefs and views and ideas that have been burned into your head and try to think about why your here. but I bet most of you fuckers cant even think that deep, so that is why you must die. how dare you think that I and you are part of the same species when we are sooooooo different. you aren't human you are a Robot. you don't take advantage of your capabilities given to you at birth. you just drop them and hop onto the boat and head down the stream of life with all the other fuckers of your type. well god damnit I wont be a part of it! I have thought to much, realized to much, found out to much, and I am to self aware to just stop what am thinking and go back to society because what I do and think isn't "right" or "morally accepted" NO, NO, NO, God Fucking damnit NO! I will sooner die than betray my own thoughts. but before I leave this worthless place, I will kill who ever I deem unfit."

Original from his journal, page #6 ↴

In reality, many of Eric's views were a result of his mental health problems, so in that way, he was right that the medication may change his views, but failed to see that it could be a good thing. He also says in one of his personal tapes, "When I don't take my medication it makes me angry. It's working."

He had some problems with the military concerning his status of medication as well, lying about or simply not mentioning his taking of anti-depressants to his recruiter during his medical examination.

[babejinxy]

In love with you - part 4

Pairing: Powder x fem!reader

Warnings: friends to lovers, SMUT, kissing, fluff

Synopsis: Powder had been your best friend for years, the two of you met when she was running from the cops when she and her brothers broke into and blew up an apartment in Piltover and you helped them escape. What you never imagined, is that the love of your life was always right there in front of you…

A/N: This is a fic about Powder from the alternate universe, it has nothing to do with Jinx.

🌟 English is not my first language, so I apologize if there are any mistakes.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

💙 @brocoliisscared @bbybubbles @cattjull

Gert was about to call you to a quieter, more private place when you both heard Vender's voice calling her from the bar. "Gert, I need you here, now," he said. She huffed and looked back at you, "It seems like I was missed, I'll see you later tonight? Even if it's late, Zaun never sleeps." You laughed, "Of course, I'll be here." She approached you and kissed your cheek, "See you later, beautiful."

You had barely gotten away from Gert when another guy came up to you and put his hand on your shoulder. “I thought I’d never see you again, princess.” He was very blond and slender, you had no idea who he was. He noticed your look of confusion and said, “Oh, I’m sorry, I’m Deckard, the guy who sent you the note the other day.” So it was him, he was actually kind of cute, just like you thought, but it wasn't like you were interested in him. “You didn’t show up, I was thinking that maybe your friend hadn’t given you my note.” He said as he approached you, he seemed to be already drunk.

“I was just leaving,” you took a step back to get away from him. “Oh, I understand. I’m lucky to find you here today. Can we talk?” he said, pulling you by the waist. “I thought you wanted to talk,” you said, pushing him away from you. “Oh, come on? Do you have a boyfriend?” he asked, getting closer again. You rolled your eyes and moved away from him again, “No, I don’t.” “Then what’s the problem love?”. Before you could answer, you heard Powder’s voice behind him.

“The problem is, she’s not interested right now,” she said, her hands on her hips, and you felt relieved to see her. He turned his head to look at her, “You’re the one who vouches for her, sweetheart?” he scoffed. “No, I’m the one who vouches for myself, and she’s right, I’m not interested.” He pursed his lips, “Alright, alright,” he held his hands up in surrender, “We can take this slow, how about I buy you a drink first, baby doll?”

Once again Powder butted in, this time she stopped beside you. “How about this, you go enjoy the party and spend your money on yourself, before you get kicked out of the bar.” He frowned and laughed, “And who’s going to kick me out, you? Is the bar yours by any chance?”, he said mocking her once more. “Something like that since my father owns the bar.” He wiped the arrogant smile from his lips, “Vender?!”, he said swallowing hard. “That’s it, are you going to leave her alone or will I have to call him to sort this out with you?” Once again he raised his hands in surrender, “kay, sorry to bother you,” he told you before disappearing from sight.

You looked at her, “hey,” you smiled. “Hey you,” she said, smiling awkwardly. “Thanks for that, Pow Pow.” She shrugged, “I couldn’t let him bother you”. “Good thing you showed up then, my savior,” you said laughing. “The guys here aren’t like the guys you’re used to, you have to know how to deal with them”. “It seems like you’ve learned well”. She shrugged, “I had to get by.”

Vender was keeping an eye on the two of you and decided to help out. He changed the upbeat song that was playing to a slower one and Powder looked at him. He smiled at her and made a sign to invite you to dance. Something in his gaze always comforted and encouraged her.

“Dance with me?” she asked suddenly, without thinking much otherwise she would lose her courage. You smiled and took her hand that was extended to you. She held your waist and you wrapped your arms around her neck and she led you to the music. Powder's heart was pounding inside her, she was nervous, this was much more than a dance with a best friend and the tension between the two of you proved it.

“He’s still staring at you,” she said, referring to Deckard. “Ignore him,” you said quietly. “No way,” she said, staring at him. “Why not?”. “Well, why…” she hesitated for a moment and then you interrupted her, laughing a little, “he’s the guy from the note.” She twisted her lips, “seriously?! So he’s nothing like you expected?”, she asked curiously. “Actually, I wasn’t expecting anything, but he’s disgusting.” The wind blew, making your perfume spread, she closed her eyes to smell you and then asked, “what about Gert?”.“Oh, she… well, she… she’s nice, she’s pretty, but…” you hesitated. “But?…”, Powder asked, stopping moving with you.

“But she’s not for me,” you closed your eyes and bit your lower lip, trying to hold back the tears, “all this life… all these people, this coming and going of loves in my life and I never wanted to admit that none of these people were my person, and I’m afraid of never… never finding the right person for me, that’s why I always gave myself so easily to anyone who came along and was never valued as I deserved.” Your eyes were watery, but you swallowed your tears. You took your arms off her neck and placed your hands on either side of her collarbone.

Powder brought her right hand to your face while she kept her other hand on your waist, where she pressed a little. “Y/n look at me”, she whispered in a hoarse voice. She was going to kiss you, she was finally going to taste your cherry lip gloss straight from your lips, like she always dreamed. You raised your gaze to her and in that moment looking into her eyes, with her breath mixing with yours, was the moment when everything came to the surface. Your feeling for her - that you had repressed for years - the love beyond friendship that you felt for her. In that moment you remembered that you had always been in love with her, but it was much easier to block that feeling than to live it. It was her, Powder was your person, the one you loved and would always love.

You started to feel your heart racing inside your chest, you were having trouble breathing, you were starting to have an anxiety attack. “Oh no! Powder I need… sorry, I need to get out of here.” You pulled away from her and ran away from everything.

˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ 𐙚 ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ 𐙚 ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ 𐙚 ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ 𐙚 ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁

You stopped in a dark alley away from The Last Drop and leaned against a wall to catch your breath and try to calm down from your anxiety attack. You began to cry frantically, sliding down the wall to the floor, where you buried your face in your hands. You knew it was too dangerous for someone like you to be in a dark alley alone in Zaun. But you were too panicked to be afraid of that.

You loved your best friend, in the romantic sense of the word. You realized this a few years ago, but you kept this feeling so bottled up inside you that you forgot about it. Then you realized, your fear wasn't of ending up alone, you just wanted to transfer everything you felt for Powder to someone else, that's why you had an endless list of boyfriends and girlfriends that didn't work out. It's amazing what our subconscious is capable of, isn't it?

You gradually calmed down and after the adrenaline and anxiety attack had passed, you began to notice how the night was getting colder and darker and you realized that you were in a dark alley alone in Zaun. As much as Vender had managed to control the bandits in the underground city, it was still dangerous for a Piltie like you to be there alone.

You pulled yourself together and thought it would be best to apologize to Powder for running away like that. You weren't ready to tell her how you felt about her, so you would make up an excuse for your behavior and everything would be resolved.

˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ 𐙚 ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ 𐙚 ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ 𐙚 ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ 𐙚 ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁

You went back to the bar and looked for her, but apparently she wasn’t there anymore. You bumped into Gert - who was walking with a tray of drinks in her hand - by accident as you walked through the dancing and singing crowd. “I’m sorry,” you said before realizing it was her. “Don’t worry princess, it’s just me,” she said winking at you, she leaned close to your ear, “just a few more hours and I’ll be free, you can make it up to me,” she kissed your cheek before going back to serving drinks. “Sorry Gert, not today,” you said to yourself.

You were trying to get out of the crowd when you felt someone pull you by the arm and grab your waist, you were relieved when you realized that this time it was Mylo. ​​“Hey, I looked for you everywhere, where’s Powder?”, he asked dancing with you. “I’d like to know too”, you said trying to get away from him. He spun you around and laid you down, holding your hand with one hand and the other on your back. You stood up and tried to get away from him, “Not now Mylo”, you said but he pulled you again and spun you around again. “See how great a partner I am, very attractive too”, he said boasting and then pouted to kiss you.

“I’m sure someone thinks so,” you said, turning your face away from him. “There’s not a girl at this party who wouldn’t want to be with me,” he boasted again, “but I only have my eyes on one,” he showed his teeth in a smile and raised an eyebrow at you. You pursed your lips and before you could try to move away from him again, Claggor appeared and put his arm around Mylo shoulders.

You took the opportunity and got out of Mylo's hands. "What's up Y/n? Is Mylo embarrassing himself again?" You held back a laugh, "no, he's a great dancer, but a terrible flirt." He crossed his arms and said, "she's just playing hard to get," he said convinced of it and you laughed, he was so ridiculous that it was almost funny, although Powder found it annoying. "Do you know where Powder is?" you asked finally. “She’s not here, I thought she was with you… have you tried checking her workshop?” Claggor replied. “I’ll stop by, thanks boys”.

“Hey, Y/n,” Mylo yelled behind you and you turned to look at him. “You can thank me in another way if you want, I wouldn’t mind if…”, he put his index finger to his lips and you understood what he wanted, you just rolled your eyes and went to look for Powder. You couldn’t see when Claggor slapped Mylo on the head, “oh, what the fuck is this you animal?!”, he said raising his arms. “Stop being an idiot,” Claggor replied. “Man… I don’t understand how you let a girl like Y/n climb out of your fingers,” he said massaging his head. “Powder is in love with her, you would realize if you weren’t such an asshole,” Claggor replied. Mylo curled his lips, “Powder? Seriously?”.

˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ 𐙚 ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ 𐙚 ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ 𐙚 ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ 𐙚 ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁

You entered Powder's workshop silently, she didn't notice you. She was sitting on the couch, with her knees to her chest and her head down. She was feeling terrible and embarrassed. You probably would have realized that she loved you beyond friendship and that's why you ran away. You didn't love her that way and it scared you. Now she had ruined everything and that would shake the friendship between you.

“Pow Pow?” you said, standing behind her. The sweet sound of your voice brought her out of her dark thoughts. She lifted her head and looked at you. Your eyes were still red from crying, you smiled at her, but she was too nervous to smile back. Although your smile could fix anything.

You approached her and sat next to her. “Look, I’m sorry I left like that, it was hard for me… to admit those things,” you said with a sigh. As she looked at you and felt your scent again so close to her, you right there in front of her made her remember Vender’s voice saying, “Isn’t she worth the risk?” Then she readjusted herself on the couch, turning to face you and gathering all the courage she had inside her.

“I think it’s time for me to admit some things to you too,” her heart could explode at any moment, just like yours. “The truth is, I always wished that all those people you were with could be me… I asked myself every day, “why not me?”, but then I remembered that you love me like a friend or even a sister, and it hurt, but…”. Your heart skipped a beat with each of her words, “Powder I…”, you interrupted her, but she interrupted you back, “wait please, let me talk… it hurts knowing that I’ll never be able to have you in any other way than as a friend, but I don’t care, having you in my life in any way is already worth it. I always watch you, when you're putting on makeup or reading or studying or even when you're not doing anything because... you're beautiful and perfect and it's good to just stop and look at you... I'm sorry I kept this in for all these years, it's just that I've always been afraid of ruining what we have, I couldn't bear to be without you around because the truth is that you're the love of my life, I..."

“... love you,” you both said the words in unison. She stopped for a moment and looked at you with her beautiful, bright blue eyes. “W-what?” she asked, her voice breaking. You smiled with your eyes watering, “I love you too Pow Pow, I held back that feeling because I thought it would be easier that way… I gave my heart to so many people when I should have given it only to you, to whom it always truly belonged, now I know that.”

She smiled and laughed a little, “How stupid we are… I could have had you from the beginning”, she whispered, bringing her face closer to yours, while looking from your lips to your eyes. “I think things have their right time to happen”, you whispered back. “But we make it so complicated”, she placed her hands on each side of your face and rested her forehead against yours. You held her wrists, “well, we don’t have to do this anymore”.

“I had a dream where I kissed you, I’ve had that dream a million times,” she whispered, looking at your lips. “You can kiss me now,” you said and at the same moment her lips kissed yours and she gasped as she finally felt the cherry taste of your lip gloss on your soft lips. You two smiled into the kiss and you wrapped your arms around her neck while her hands traveled to your waist.

She squeezed you a little and settled herself on the couch, making you understand what she wanted. Still with your lips on hers, you sat on her lap and at that moment, she deepened the kiss. Powder pulled your lower lip between her teeth and then slammed her tongue into yours, taking full control of the situation and swirling your tongue around hers and then biting your lip again. You never thought she could be so dominant, but you loved it.

She put her hands under your blouse and felt your hot, goosebumps-filled skin. She squeezed your waist again and you gasped into her mouth. It was your turn to pull her lower lip between your teeth and she squeezed your sides again at the sensation. Powder held the hem of your blouse and you only stopped kissing for her to take it off your body. Before she kissed you again, she ran her eyes over your round, perfect breasts, still covered by your white lace bra.

You both smiled and you went back to crashing your lips into hers and she soon dominated it again. Her hands went up from your waist to your breasts and she placed them there, just feeling the exposed skin of your breasts. She stopped the kiss and looked at her hands on your breast, her thumb drawing circles on the top of them slowly. You bit your lower lip and she - still with her hands on your breasts - went back to devouring your already red and swollen lips.

She laid you down on the couch, getting on top of you, her tongue still exploring every corner of your mouth. She stopped the kiss and nuzzled her nose your neck, feeling your goosebumps and your scent that she loved. She nuzzled her nose slowly down to the valley of your breasts still covered by your bra and returned to your neck where she finally began to plant hot kisses on your skin, you closed your eyes at the sensation as you moaned softly and sweetly…

So, part 5?

[theverycoolfish]

Age: minor

Height: somewhere between 162-164 cm

Grades: I don’t want to brag but very good. Sorry.

Confidence: should be higher but nah. Pretty low.

Happiness: idk. Which summarizes it

Gender: idk. I think faeflux. Idk I read some wiki in the middle of the night some while ago.

Sexuality: asexual

Romantic: aromantic (at least on the spectrum)

Fav food: idk. Depends on who made it, and when.

Fav movie: hard question. Some studio Ghibli I think. Idk which one. Let’s pick spirited away.

Fav show: Doctor who

Fav song: I don’t know I am not listening to music this minute and that changes every time I do

Fav artist: no idea. Come back later

Relationship status: single. Yay! I mean the yay it is not sarcastic.

Fav color: green

Fav season: idk. I love winter when it’s snow. But spring or autumn because of the temperature. Summer is too hot

Followers: the number doesn’t matter. (And I have no idea)

End of year stats!

Age: won’t say but minor

Height: 5’5

Grade: won’t say

Confidence: 7/10

Happiness: 5/10

Gender: gender fluid

Sexuality: asexual

Romantic: aroflux

Fav food: probably ramen?

Fav show: b99

Fav movie: not any

Fav song: too many to pick!!!

Fav artist: wallows or dayglow

Relationship status: single

Fav colour: green

Fav season: winter

Followers: 358 (as of Dec 29 at 2 am)

[vqler]

Stuck?

Zenless Zone Zero [switches Seth/Wise]

a/n: for one and only @wertzunge. happy belated birthday once again! your santa nicely showed me your wishlist a few days ago, so i decided to experiment a little. hope you'll enjoy ദ്ദി• ˕ •マ.ᐟ

ps: some tickly art under keep reading. i was writing it in a wildly sleepy condition, so forgive me mistakes brothers and sisters ________________________________

Night. Tail. A fluffy, large tail flickered back and forth. Back and forth... Almost hypnotizing a random passerby, who turned out to be Proxy’s Phaeton. Wise thoughtfully watched it, as well as the lower half of the body sticking out right from the wall.

“Ugh... Come on!... How…” an annoyed male muffled voice sounded from the other side reached Wise's ears. Although even without the voice it was clear who got into such an... interesting situation.

“How?..” Wise repeated, and Seth's tail, stuck in the wall, instantly wagged stronger.

“W-Wise! Manager, is that you?!” Seth rejoiced, slapping his palms on the wall from his side. He recognized his friend, but then continued sadly, “ugh, can't hear well. My ears are on the other side of this problem... Hopefully, it’s you.”

"Right, it's me, but...." Wise raised an eyebrow, looking at the fidgeting butt of the wall's victim, "...are you sure it's a good idea to rest in this hole instead of doing your night duty?"

If only he could hear the heaviness of the sigh on the other side, he would probably run out of air in his lungs himself.

"You may think this is absurd, but... it's all a cat."

"A cat?”, either not hearing, or not believing, Wise asked in bewilderment.

"Yes, a cat! White!"

"..."

"Not me," the policeman hastened to clarify, realizing that he was only burying himself deeper in a... hole. "A street cat was running here. It stopped next to me while I was on patrol, and seemed to want something. Well, I leaned towards it... And then it snatched my walkie-talkie."

Wise blinked with an idiotic expression on his face, listening intently to Seth's wagging tail.

"I tried to take it away, but it wasn't easy. After a couple of minutes of chasing, the cat saw this same hole and jumped through it. So this is how I..."

"Don't tell me you thought you would slide through this hole. With your sizes."

Seth went silent for a moment.

"It happened instinctively," the only thing he managed to mumble as an excuse.

Wise nodded understandingly, forgetting that the other one couldn't see him. He looked around and noticed that there was no end to the wall on either side. No wonder that Seth didn't go around — the cat would've long ago disappeared into the shelter, disassembled the radio into parts and reassembled it several times.

"And here I thought there should've been racial solidarity between you two."

"We are completely different species!" Seth shook himself and then sighed again: "Could you call Zhu Yuan or... anyone?"

“Sorry, I forgot my phone at home,” for some reason he wanted to lie and see what else would come of it.

“Oh? How so?! W-well... Then take it from my pants.”

So he did. Not as Seth expected though.

"W-Wise! It's in the back pocket!" the catman fidgeted from offbeat sensations when Wise tried to feel for the phone in the side pockets, and even somewhere in front.

"Ah, right," not feeling particularly guilty Wise moved his hand from the sides to his lower back muscles. And yet not here, since the outline of the phone was clearly visible and far from the proxy's cunning fingers. As his hand traveled down poor Lowell's backside, Wise felt a twitch and a puff every now and then. At first, he only found it cute, but along the way he quickly realized what was what, and came up with a plan.

"Tell me, hypothetically... If I called for help, but a little later? Would it be?.."

"...a violation of the law by a citizen in relation to another? Especially to someone who is a representative of the Security Service and who desperately needs help?" he somehow enthusiastically recalled. Seth loved rules. And he unconditionally loved to obey them, as well as subject others to them.

"Right. Would it be?.."

Seth would have gladly answered, but instead of words, a groan escaped his tongue. Wise moved his hand a little lower and tickled the root of the tail, while the other hand was playfully pinching his hips, as if "trying to find something". Seth, who was barely standing on his toes, instinctively tried to move away, but only pressed himself harder into the hole in the wall.

"Y-yes! Wise, aha- hahaha, please!" he already howled embarrassedly, twisting in another and senseless attempt to escape from captivity. "And... such actions are unacceptable!.. I can equate them to... to..."

"Harassment!" Wise jokingly exclaimed in a deliberately serious tone, and then began to actively tickle Seth right under the ribs.

Explosive feelings. Loud laughter and the thud of fists hitting the wall came from the other side of the hole. Seth wriggled as best he could, and if friction hadn’t gotten in the way, he might have slipped out by now, since any caught fish could learn such hardcore fidgeting.

"Yes!!.. Aha- HAHAhaHahaaa! Stah- thihis instant!!" Oh, how adorably pleasant this unknown laughter sounded to Wise's ears.

"Don't worry, Seth. I'm not doing anything unlawful. Just trying to help." Wise grinned and squeezed his sides upper, almost digging into the hole in a way to his armpits. Still, it was too tight. "Who knows when others will come if I call them. We can get you out with our own efforts!"

Seth continued to fidget and laugh desperately, but the mention of his own efforts tugged at his workaholic streak. He never liked to be a burden to anyone, and was always a hard worker, so he mentally agreed that he could try his best here too. But these thoughts were somewhere too deep, and it was they who stopped the rookie officer from yet another appeal to the law. On the surface of his emotions, Seth wanted to kill Wise.

"Yohou'll pay for thihis!!"

"Sure," Wise smiled to himself and went for the thighs. Seth’s body was almost built for squeezing everything in it, as Wise thought. And, fortunately, absolutely everything was incredibly ticklish for him, at least right now, when he couldn't even predict the next move of his "rescuer".

"By the way, Seth…" Wise started, looking down at the very enticingly standing flimsy feet. "I actually haven't seen you without gloves before. Do your hands and feet look like paws by chance?"

A blush spread hotly across his face, filling every pore with an embarrassment the guy had never known before. Seth understood where this dialogue was going and was momentarily horrified at the thought that he would have to go through tickling in the spot he himself can't touch without shaking. "Regular human feet, I swear! You don't have to check!"

Obviously, Wise wasn't satisfied with this answer. Or maybe, on the contrary, he was more than satisfied? In any case, he felt the need to take off those shoes and check properly. First, by teasingly sliding there with one finger, and then briskly wiggling with the rest to the accompaniment of confused laughter, squeals and wall shaking... Of course, in the name of salvation.

~~~

Next day, Wise didn't receive any papers or messages about reporting to Security. Instead, Security came for him.

"Manager Wise is awake?" Seth asked his yawning little sister, who was just coming down from the second floor of the video rental store she and her brother shared.

Glancing at the Security officer in surprise, Belle took a step back, finding a higher step with her foot.

"Wise! What have you done tonight?! Here…"

"Thank you," Seth nodded briefly to the slightly frightened girl and went upstairs.

The open door obviously led to his sister's room, which meant there was another one. Seth walked in unceremoniously, and finding Wise just awake and confused by Seth's arrival, he defiantly took out handcuffs, to which Wise reacted with a frisky jump, as if he had been stung by a dozen bees in one soft spot.

"Seth! Are you seriously going to arrest me?!"

Wise was almost ready to tear out his hair: how could this be? Is this the end? He, of course, expected that sooner or later Seth would find out about something that he should have, but to repeat the scenario drawn in his head just because of a child's prank?.. Not even that. Because of helping a friend in need out of the kindness of his heart?!

While Wise was clutching his head, rethinking his moments of connection with Seth, the officer had already managed to handcuff him.

"Not a step. I came to punish you." Seth's voice was firm, it was unclear whether it was fake or sincere. The only thing that Wise understood very well now was that frowning Seth looked extremely cute. "Justice will prevail, and you have the right… uhm, only to remain silent… if it will be possible in your situation, of course," stretching out the words, Seth was speaking very closely to Wise's ear, almost running his nose over the guy's cheek. He placed his hand on Wise's stomach and dived under the longsleeve, suddenly tickling the belly of the detainee.

That's when Wise was struck by lightning. So this is what kind of punishment he had in mind! Well, of course, Seth was his friend. Be that as it may, he was sure that this Thiren still values kindness above the letter of the law. But still, now he wondered if a fate worse than arrest awaited him. The idea of being tickled by the cat's claws gave Wise an army of goosebumps and a cold sweat down his back.

"S-Seth! You don't have to do this! I swear, I only wanted to help!" Wise muttered confusedly, backing away, but Seth held the chain of handcuffs tightly. Without waiting for an answer, Proxy rushed wherever his eyes directed him, because of which the officer was taken aback and almost fell, but never let go of the handcuffs, running after the scoundrel.

"Stop right there! You'll only make it worse for yourself if you keep resisting!" Seth shouted, chasing and tickling Wise all the way, until his victim tripped over his own foot and loudly fell to the floor.

"Seth, haha! HAhaHahahAaa!! I'm sohorry, I- ahapologize! HAHAHA!~"

It was the moment when he found it ironic that got the right to remain silent, since for the next twenty minutes of his punishment the entire neighborhood could hear Wise fighting loudly, through laughter and tears, to actually gain that right. Well, deep down he knew he deserved it. Maybe not even that deep.

[cherrysurf]

Winning you back

-where the haikyu boys try to win back you there ex gf.

-contains; daichi, suga, hinata, kageyama, kenma, kuroo, suna, osamu

Daichi; This man is a cop BEST FUCKING BELIEVE hes out patrolling by your usual bars definitely not on purpose to watch over you, so of course you coming out a bar hammered and ready to head home but your friends wanting you drag you to another bar you quickly look for an alibi and who was the best one the cop that was standing right behind you “uh huh no can do this officer said he’d arrest me if i went to another bar right sir” you say slurring your words a bit “that’s right ma’am” the voice sounding awfully familiar till you turn around and see daichi which made your cheeks turn painfully red not just from the alcohol now.. “w-well come on you know the way back to my house let’s go.” you say flustered but really can’t back down now “alright let’s go missy want me to carry you like i used too can you walk home?” he said, smirking very much enjoying this. “carry me.” you whispered “huh? I can't hear you, can you say it louder?” he asked cupping his ear as if to mock you “oh whatever daichi i can walk” you say pushing past him to walk ahead, when you feel strong buff arms pick you up “it’s Mr.daichi to you tonight yn.” he said laughing you roll your eyes and scoff.

sugawara; THIS MAN he is pulling out the “oh the kids wanted me to bring this to you they said they miss you dropping off my lunches and saying hi” because of course you still kept in contact after the breakup because he was mature on it and it was just because you guys were so close and you had formed a bond with his students so imagine how excited him and the kids get when you come in a week later bringing suga lunch “OOOO MISS YN IS BACKKKK” they all say, safe to say suga knew he had you back into his life after that day

hinata; this man is PERSISTENT he’d send you tickets for all his home games even if you guys aren’t talking and then one fateful night it was a big important game for hinata that you had knew about before you two had ended things so you decided to show up and wear his jersey in support, the tickets he’d always give you were up close to the court so if you ever did show up he’d know. Imagine the look on his face when he saw you, he was already feeling down and was actually starting to give up hope on any idea of you coming back together. that all changed after he saw you not just being there but wearing his jersey at that, safe to say he showed off and won and took you out to dinner as a “thank you” gift.

kageyama; I know everyone writes kageyama nonchalant but imagine YEARNING KAGEYAMA with me for a sec this man is sending you flowers every other week the first time he sent you them with a note a attached to it saying “even if we’re not together i refuse to have your flower vase empty so let me take care of that for you.” and it’s never the same flowers it’s always perfect curated ones for every week or two that somehow perfectly aligned with your mood, maybe it’s because he still follows you on instagram even if you have him on follow back because he cares about you, so it’s your birthday week and the wave of presents you get from this man ALONE was insane and then on your birthday you wake up to tons of tags and mentions but one stuck out specifically it was from kageyama's instagram on his VERY PUBLIC might i add it’s a picture of you but not your face showing with a small sentence saying “happy birthday ml i’ll never stop caring for you” safe to say that night you went out to a birthday dinner with him.

kuroo; you and him ended on good terms and also because you two had booked a trip before you two had broken up that you still decided to go on, you thinking it was a simple get together for break maybe even going off to do your own things at the place but for kuroo it was a week long of “how to get yn back” it involved romantic dates, walks on the beach, impressing you, dressing up, compliments alamode the whole nine. Which worked out successfully because by the time you guys came back he was already talking about getting engaged.

kenma; You two wouldn’t have been on speaking terms for about 3 weeks until you noticed an invite sent to you on discord to join a minecraft world, you being bored and curious click on it and find that he made an ENTIRE world dedicated to you and saying sorry, i kid you not even minutes later you get a knock at your door, as you look down you find a gift basket for all your favorite snacks, gift cards from various of your favorite stores, v-bucks and a cute apologetic note. You know kenma knows that he's probably lingering around the area in his car. That’s when you text him “doors unlock come inside let’s 1v1 i know you brought your gaming stuff.” and that he did, NOT EVEN 5 minutes later you hear a knock and kenma with a smile and arms full of his gaming stuff.

suna; he’d take a different approach to getting you back because as serious as he was he was always super funny so imagine your reaction when you hear music coming from your front yard while it was raining to find suna with a boombox over his head blasting your favorite song, you ended up recording this whole ordeal and sending it to atsumu and osamu since they needed some blackmail after countless years of blackmail suna had on them, by the second repeat of the song you had called him to come inside and gave him a warm cup a tea as you laugh about the situation and he gets spammed by texts from the miyas about how stupid it was of him to do this he didn’t care because he was wrapped up in your blanket, with your tea you made for him, and was gonna stay at your house because the rain only got worse after that.

osamu; It’s been about a week of no contact even though neither of you had mentioned it, it was killing you both. Anyways it was the first day of your period and you were craving his cooking because you fully believed it was the only thing that healed you from cramps as you were about to head out for the convenient store to find something to suppress your cravings that’s until you see him at your door which startled you a bit “gosh osamu you scared me what are you doing here?” you asked confused yet happy “uhm i still had your period tracker on my phone..NOT IN A WEIRD WAY i promise i just forgot to delete it and i know how you usually like my food on the first day since it’s your worst day so i'd figure id stop by..” he said nervously “well..you guess right i was gonna go to the store if you wanna come we can get groceries so you can cook i don’t have anything right now” you say happy inside that he came to your rescue “okay i'll drive.” he says happily to weasel his way back into his pretty ex gfs life

[twst-drabbles]

Malleus 19

Summary: You're sick as a dog and all you wanna do is lay in bed. The little dragon Malleus, on the other hand, wants you to entertain him.

(Wanted to write about a little cutie. So here you go.)

Ough, you are in a pit of muggy heat and horrible, horrible mucus.

Why did you go out? Why did you decide to go to the festival on Kalim's insistence even though you knew you were coming down with something bad? Past you was a fool, and now you were paying the price for it.

You felt gross. You are gross. Ugh. Nothing to do but wait for this to pass over, and maybe take some meds if it becomes too much, or at least have something before bed so you don't wake up in the middle of the night.

You sighed, coughed when you breathed too quickly, then blindly reached out to the water you kept on your nightstand. Your fingers hit something cold, and you grasped it tightly without a second thought.

Squeak!

…that's not a sound a water bottle should make. That sounded more like a fart than a squeak.

You reluctantly lifted your head, then blinked at the glaring glowing green eyes. He opened his mouth and let a flicker of fire tickle your skin. Whoops.

"Oh," you loosened your grip and Malleus spread his wings, hovering in the air, "Though you were my water. Didn't mean to."

It's right behind him, shining beautifully in the light but, ugh, you'll have to stretch yourself to get it and you really don't want to move. Your muscles were sore from all the walking alongside the fact that your sick.

"Ugh. Well, do whatever you like, Malleus. I'm not feeling the best."

You sniffled and roughly cleared your throat as best you could. You didn't succeed, and now you have more mucus coating your lungs. Breathing is possible, but so very uncomfortable. Horrible. Horrendous.

You heard a few flaps and felt a small dip in your pillow. Two tiny hands patted at your head, then started to shove. You shook your head and flipped yourself to the other side of the bed. You'll get your water later, you're getting sleepy again. Besides, at least you have some soup to look forward to from Crowley. Kalim wanted to take cooking duties but he doesn't exactly have the best idea on what makes a good sick meal.

Small steps traveled over your plush pillows, and now the little dragon was pushing at your shoulder.

Ah, he wants you to get up, for whatever little dragon fae activities he has planned for the day.

"Don't," you lightly pushed him away, "I need sleep."

Little claws hooked onto your blanket, and a small body heaved itself onto your neck. Cool scales swept over your face, tickled your nose, and you shot right up to scramble for a tissue.

You let out a colossal sneeze. "Ough, thank you." You said to no one in particular, glad that you can actually breath again.

You crumpled up the tissue, tossed it into the trashcan, then finally noticed the spread eagle, frozen Malleus. He always had a set of wide eyes that looked at the world with a curious wonder, and if not mystified, then he's usually not thinking anything at all. Empty, empty eyes, but oh so expressive.

Right now, Malleus was looking at you with shock.

"What? Never seen a sick person before?" Your voice was still nasally as ever, but it's clearer than before, at least. "You've been around Silver. Shouldn't he have been sick once or twice?"

Another tickle bloomed from the back of your nose and you grasped another tissue. You scrunched up, ready to let another sneeze rip out, but it faded away as quickly as the wind when you saw Malleus dash under your pillows. Every part of him was swallowed. All you could see was his eerie green eyes.

You blinked, then something clicked. "…ah, my sneezes scare you."

Makes sense, you don't bother being quiet since you've lived here along for a little too long. You get used to having nobody over, so you've stopped being aware of just how loud you can be.

You blew your nose and sighed in relief. "If you want to go home, by all means. Because I'm not gonna stop sneezing anytime soon."

Malleus gave the littlest of growls, evidently annoyed. You squashed him under the pillow he took refuge in.

[mcalli-fr]

The thing is, there's enough stuff on FR that there isn't really an "easy to acquire" collection of something. Familiars, apparel, hell even themed items. Some folks collect all bug food, for ex.

When it comes to sentimental value...it's been ten years. How much longer should folks need to feel nostalgic, and how do you feel nostalgic for something that you didn't even know was going to be retired at the time. As a reminder: FR launched in June, and it wasn't confirmed until September that the Sprites were not coming back. Undel wasn't even sure if festival currency would carry over into the next year or disintegrate. It was a clusterfuck of decisions they should have made before launching and arguably that lack of communication caused even less early Sprites to be in circulation as otherwise would have been, bc some ppl didn't buy them under the assumption they'd be back later. And that's not even talking about how the population of the site was so tiny during the first registration windows.

I wholly disagree with you about the eye thing. While the release and the entire implementation of the Scattersight was absolutely horrendous and probably one of the worst things Staff has ever done, rolling back their decision to not release eye-type Vials was a good thing. The game is about customizing dragons and even though they haven't been super vocal about that mission statement, they have stuck by that. Which is why the Eyepocalypse pissed everyone off. With one exception, every customization option was on the table for an existing dragon - and I agree that releasing anything related to customization that doesn't "back port" to dragons that already exist is a very bad idea. There should never be a situation where dragons hatched before an update cannot utilize said update.

Dragons are supposed to be easy to get and incredibly plentiful. That's a good thing.

As for more RNG in breeding: imo, there's already enough. The color wheel is a large enough challenge nearly on its own. Too much RNG in breeding means that you hamstring the viability of breeding projects, which would be bad. Having to narrow down colors and hope to hatch Primal (for ex) is enough. As a person who has had a years long breeding project, there does come a time where it stops being fun lol.

In many cases if I want a challenge, I do NOT want to fight RNG about it. That's not accomplishment, that's attrition.

The most frustrating part of the conversation about retired items is that the people who really want to push for more things to retire so that they'll "appreciate in value" don't seem to understand that if there isn't enough supply for the demand, it just means that no one gets anything.

It means that the player selling the Light Sprite for more than what my mortgage is worth...doesn't sell the Light Sprite, because most people can't fucking pay for it. And it means that players who want the Light Sprite can't have it because its only listing is beyond the definition of expensive, or that saving up for years is a race against other people trying to save up fast enough to buy it first. Either way, most players go without.

It means that, with enough retired items, you end up like GaiaOnline. Yeah, there's tons of limited items that may "appreciate in value" but the truth of that...is actually this:

Some of these items have been on my wishlist for a decade.

These items have no value because not enough of them even exist.

GaiaOnline used to be a place where "Questing" for an item was something that tons of people loved doing. Even I did it. I quested for a Fallen Wish back in the day, I quested for Inari's Beads, I quested for monthly collectibles every time one I liked dropped.

Now I'm not questing. Because the items I want simply don't circulate. This is what too many retired items does to an economy. I watched GaiaOnline die this way. Which is why I strongly oppose any retired items in any other site. Flight Rising doesn't need this.

[resident-idiot-simp]

Thinking about my X-Men rewrite again.

Shot out to my beloved @shy-canadian-snowflake for the amazing starting idea.

Wade and Logan who go around a different cage fighting arenas as a duo to scam people out of their money. The beginning goes the same way except for the guy also getting mad that Logan and Wade were scamming people then when Logan pins the guy to the wall. Instead of turning around and slicing the gun Wade does it.

The then get the hell out of Dodge and instead of Rogue hiding in the back Wade catches her and directs her into the truck. Things go relatively the same except none of them get knocked out and Sabertooth gets run off by them (Logan also has him memories).

They get picked up by Storm and Scott then brought to the mansion. It doesn't go as well because Logan is half feral with the new environment and the short time around and protecting Rogue had already started alternating his brain (despite his best efforts).

Logan is actively hostile to anyone who isn't Wade and all the children, thought some are thin fucking ice. Wade isn't much better with how manic he is.

No one is having a good time because Xavier is explaining sabertooth and Logan is just like yeah that's my creep pervert brother (This information has made everything worse btw). No one knows what to do.

Rogue still gets stabbed and runs off. But this time Wade is also there. Both get their asses handed to them and yada yada yada. Everything is still the same at the end except for Wade being there.

Then when Logan wakes up in the med bay Wade is by his side. They both decided to stay because lord knows no one else teaching the kids practical applicable stuff.

Rogue is now practically their kid and is the only one who who is excited for Wade to stay

That's X1 come back later for more when I figure that out

[i-am-snowils-admiral]

So the dpxdc fandom has been trying to come up with more ways to get Danny into Gotham without relying on the old Bat-adoption trope (though it's a fun trope that I love), which typically either means aging him up or giving him a fake id and making him live alone in Gotham pretending to be aged up, but personally I think we can streamline the process a bit by borrowing liberally from Marsalias' fic Adoption (if you haven't read it, definitely do, it's a really good fic) and sticking Actual Master of Time Clockwork in Gotham as yet another weird rich cryptid.

For those who haven't read that fic, the basic premise is that Clockwork decides to adopt Danny completely legally through both ghost and human methods. He is required to establish a human persona for this, which I find hysterical. He and Danny end up living in an incredibly creepy manor that they both love. We can easily uproot that thing and plop it into Gotham. If we want to be particularly funny about it, we can sandwich Wayne Manor between Clockwork and the Drakes to make them all neighbors.

Now what you do from there is obviously subject to whatever story you're wanting to tell, but there's a couple fun things I want to suggest:

Clockwork doesn't try very hard on his human persona. He still dresses like a time god in a fantasy novel (I'm a little in love with 13thcat's designs so I like to imagine his human form looks a little like this). You have to live, what, 40-50 years in a city to be established? Sure. Why bother aging visibly in this time? That's not necessary! What does he do for work? Uhhhh he's a woodworker who makes clocks. That's why he has millions or even billions of dollars, obviously.

5-year-old Bruce Wayne is OBSESSED with Clockwork (aka Charles Worth). This is baby's first incredibly pure crush. This is your really cool kindergarten teacher that you remain a little in love with well into adulthood, except instead of being nice CW is just really weird and doesn't care about what 5-year-olds are able to discuss. Baby Bruce does that little kid "I'll marry you when I grow up" thing that everyone finds adorable but CW says "there are many timelines where you get married, though never to me. Some options are better than others, but I won't tell you about them" because what else would he say.

When Danny shows up in Gotham decades later as CW's adopted kid Bruce is zeroed in on all the gossip. His interest is based entirely on his childhood obsession though so he uses absolutely zero Batman skills to investigate the situation and therefore finds nothing weird about Danny's background. The batkids find this hilarious because there is Clearly something weird going on with that kid.

Clockwork could easily solve all of the Bats' problems and tell them the answers to all the investigations they're doing but why would he do that???? That's boring. He's vibing in his new house with his cool liminal son why would he be worried about *checks notes* the hundreds of people dying to rogue attacks nearby.

Despite never being genuinely helpful he DOES randomly drop in-universe lore that no one would've figured out otherwise. Usually he does this about six months after it would've been really nice to know.

He doesn't do this out of malice he just doesn't intervene in things normally and if he does, it's only by request. The Bats (besides Batman because he's still oblivious) are too worried about what he might ask for in exchange to make requests though they know he's powerful but they are totally wrong because he's just sitting there baking bread thinking "hm I wonder why Timothy never asked me to help him get Batman back from being lost in the time stream, I could've done that really easily without changing too much. Oh well, whatever makes him happy."

Danny also never makes requests but that's because CW went a bit too hard on teaching him messed up karmic lessons about interfering with time so Danny just assumes it's always a bad idea to ask.

[russo-woso]

I'm watching Keeping Up With The Kardashians and I'm slightly obsessed with the idea of Leah being with someone from that family who is so different from her family in the sense that she doesn't get involved in many arguments on the show, she's of course rich rich but doesn't spend all her money on designer things and donates to organisations and such which is how Leah met her through an event or something

So can I request where the team/Leah's friends meet R and are just like 'Now how tf have you come back from an event in America with a freaking KARDASHIAN as your girlfriend?!' 😂😂

You’re dating a Jenner? || Leah Williamson x KarJenner!reader

Masterlist

Summary You and Leah finally announced your relationship to Leah’s teammates

You weren't like your sisters, you never were.

Despite the similarity in wealth, you never spent it on designer clothes or Botox or multi million dollar houses like your sisters - instead spending it on charity and the less fortunate.

That was just one of the reasons you weren't similar, another obvious different being that you were into women, not men.

Although there were many differences, your profile was still just as high.

Invitations to many many red carpets still in your life.

You normally said no to quite a few of them - normally the big ones - but when one in England came through you decided to accept the invitation. You don't know why but you just had a good feeling about it.

You'd travelled to England the day before the event, your body full of nerves at the thought of the red carpet.

Despite growing up with fame, you still grew nervous at the thought of paparazzi.

Unbeknownst to you, there was a person that you met during the event that took your nerves away completely, that person being Leah Williamson.

You and Leah hit it off immediately and let's just say... you didn't end up in your hotel room that night.

The two of kept in contact, FaceTiming most nights.

Leah then made a visit out to America to see you and on the final night, she asked you to be her girlfriend.

You'd said yes of course.

That was six months ago now and since then, you'd told your family and close friends but there was one group of people you hadn't told yet - Leah's teammates.

Due to your fame, you both didn't know how her teammates were going to take it.

But as you and Leah were finalising you moving in with her, you figured you'd have to tell them sooner or later.

Which led Leah to organising team bonding night at her house.

The team were aware Leah had a girlfriend but they had no idea it was you.

When Leah told them team bonding was round hers, she also mentioned they'd be meeting her secret girlfriend for the first time.

That really seemed to get them excited, most of them eager to see who you were.

"You watch, it's going to be someone we know." Beth said to Steph as they pulled up on the driveway.

"Or someone famous. She's gonna be from the Kardashian's or another famous family." Steph added

"The Kardashian's? No Kardashian or Jenner would get with Leah." Beth joked. If only she knew.

A few other girls pulled up shortly after and soon enough the whole squad was on the doorstep waiting to be welcomed in.

"Do we even know how they met?" Kyra questioned, clearly talking about you and Leah.

"Apparently at some event."

"So she's also famous then." Vic pointed out, the team humming at the realisation.

The door opened and revealed Leah, she welcomed them in, all the girls trying not to make it obvious that they were looking around for another person in the house.

"She's upstairs getting ready, she won't be long." Leah told them, clearly knowing they were looking for you.

Everyone got settled when they heard footsteps coming down the stairs.

"Hi everyone." You said with a big smile, waving politely as their jaws dropped.

"Oh my god..." Alessia whispered

"Hiya, pretty girl." Leah said, bringing you onto her lap as she wrapped her arms around your waist.

"You're..."

"Y/N, nice to meet you all."

"They know who you are, baby." Leah laughed, watching her teammates reactions.

"I called it. I said it was a Kardashian or Jenner." Steph exclaimed. "And here's Beth saying Leah couldn't pull one."

"Hey!" Leah frowned at Beth, offended at her past words.

"I didn't know you actually could." Beth said, putting her hands up in defense. “Like how do you go to an event and end up coming back with a Karjenner?”

“Well…” Leah began, smirking at you, obviously remembering the night the two of you shared when you first met.

“Actually no! Don’t share!” Beth immediately shouted. “We don’t want to hear.”

“Is this a joke? Y/N it’s okay if you need some help. Leah’s got you held hostage doesn’t she? I’ll ring the police if you need me to.” Alessia told you, clearly not believing that one of her best friends was dating you.

“You don’t need to ring the police.” You smiled, resting your hand on Leah’s chest as you looked lovingly up at her. “We have to hide from le first and then ring the police.”

“Why are you targeting me too?” Leah gasped, gently hitting your arm as you smiled at her.

“You’re different from your sisters.” Kyra pointed out, you nodding and giving her a smile.

“I love them, don’t get me wrong, but money doesn’t interest me. I have a lot of it but I don’t need it. I’ve got all I need right here with me.” You told her, kissing Leah’s cheek.

Most of the girls awed at your response but there was one girl who still sat with her jaw wide open - Alessia.

“Are we still all aware Y/N Jenner is sat in the room with us?”

[utilitycaster]

So something you’ve mentioned in a previous ask about how some of the players have decided to play characters that are more go-with-the-flow or designed to specifically take a step back, and I’m curious if you think that the fact that those players (Travis, Marisha, Liam) taking on a sort of sideline role, has also sort of affected the party’s decisiveness and by extension of the campaign because of it? Not to say that they shouldn’t try that different kinds of characters because they should and they have the liberty to try it out for themselves, but with no one else to really step up, it leaves the party in kind of a mess.

From previous campaigns, Travis and Liam have always been hard drivers of decisions and direction, in part of the characters they play having clear goals or strong personalities in knowing what they want (Marisha I think this applies to more for c2 since it was something Keyleth had to grow into as a leader over the course of c1). In contrast, Laura and Ashley tend to be players who tends to be indecisive in the face of a decision because they don’t want to make the wrong one. This has been a through line since Laura as far back as c1 because I distinctly remember a Talks Machina episode where Laura talked about how for a moment she thought she made the “wrong” choice with Saundor, but then later on came to the conclusion that she made the “right” one.

With Laura and Ashley playing characters that are spotlighted so heavily in the plot of this campaign, this indecision weighs as heavily because they play characters are the hard drivers while the others (outside of Ashton) are reactive rather than proactive or for Oyrm’s case, specifically and deliberately by Orym’s own choice, more quiet snd sidelined. I think Travis has had Chetney to try and take center stage to push a couple times throughout the campaign, and I think Travis did it with Grog too in c1 when the party took too long to come to a conclusion and he would decide something to get the party moving, but there’s a lot of empty time and space on that stage in c3 where in previous campaigns someone would pretty consistently take that spotlight.

I think some players are generally more inclined than others to lead or be in the driver’s seat and some players who don’t want that position majority of the time, and that’s perfectly okay. It’s just a matter of experimenting with what works and what doesn’t, and I think for BH, it doesn’t. And I don’t think it should be a requirement from some players to play a specific role all the time, but I think it’s important to at least acknowledge it and comprise, allowing players to play to their stengths and cover others’ weaknesses to make the table and story flow and work

oh definitely. I think you said this well, and I think Keyleth actually did do a lot of pushing the plot in C1 specifically because she was in game terrified of doing the wrong thing and explored that. Keyleth was, even before they officially began dating, someone whose calls Vax trusted, and she in turn supported him, and that led to (for example) Vox Machina choosing not to ally with the Clasp (which a number of party members supported or were neutral towards) and going after Raishan immediately following Thordak, despite the risk. Keyleth was terrified of making the wrong decision, but crucially, she had a very clear idea of what she wanted to do - she just didn't always believe what she wanted was good, and that conflict is what tripped her up. She was extremely willing to go to the mat over such topics as, for example, pragmatic alliances with dubious people (Raishan); it's just that sometimes this resulted in her being overruled and having to put up with said alliance, and struggling with that.

I don't think it's bad to be a player who wants to go with the flow and explore personal relationships without being a major decision maker. I tend towards being a decisive player, but I do not think it's the only way to be. But this does become an issue when the DM assigns you the role of Decider, and it becomes more of an issue when other players, quite reasonably, had chosen to step back. And I will personally admit - I've repeatedly tried to play laid-back/chaotic characters in D&D and it simply fucking fails. I lack the patience to fuck around endlessly. This is also, frankly, why I don't personally dump intelligence: playing as a character who is not curious and constantly trying to learn about the world simply isn't fun for me. If I were at a table that was going through endless debates with zero progress or resolution like Bells Hells, I have to admit I'd have long since said "hey. Is this...fun for anyone? Because I hate it." and I do not presume to know what the CR Cast thinks of it, and I really believe that "it's our game" means "don't make that presumption" but I can say it's been pretty widely panned among viewers, and it is valid to say "you can do what makes you happy in your game but wow this sucks as a story." And so yes the fact that the people who usually cut that kind of discussion short have stepped back, and the people who are reluctant to cut that type of discussion short are the ones who ultimately must make the decisions is, undeniably, a factor here.

Honestly, I and others have called this the third character dip or similar things and I think it's fair to say that a lot of cast members are, or were, in this campaign, either playing to their weak spot or avoiding a party-carrying personal strength. Players like Liam, Travis, or Marisha (or, to give a few other well-known examples, Emily Axford, Aabria Iyengar, and Lou Wilson) are in my experience less common in the same way that DMs are less common than players. It's more work, more responsibility, and people are more likely to blame you if something goes wrong. And I get that it can feel like you are steamrolling quieter players, and I do think talk away from the game table is important to ensure you aren't, but much of the time, when I've talked to people, they've been like "no, I would like to play someone who is a huge dumbass who can go off and goof around [paraphrased, and I mean this affectionately; I am thinking specifically of my brother's sweet summer INT 8 half-orc monk-barbarian] and I appreciate that you are filling a role that I would not pesonally find fun" (I also specifically like playing healers/support and DON'T like playing burst damage).

I do want to note, and I did this elsewhere: this hesitancy is nowhere to be found when I've seen Ashley and Laura (and various other players who are at times less bold - Sam being an obvious example) play in shorter form works. Arlo Black is a standout in Candela; both Tris and Emhira were fantastic. This is part of why I think an extended short-form only break would be good after this campaign ends. I do think it is ultimately a flaw of the campaign for forcing Fearne and Imogen into these positions when I do not think it's what the players really wanted for the characters (again, speculative); but like, they are in those positions, and the time to have said something was a while ago. I mean if that's the theme - that it's unfair and unkind you shouldn't have to be the one who makes the choice - that's fine, but the thematically apt thing to do is to make the choice anyway, with intent.