#forgive me if this comes across as presumptuous

[imtrashraccoon]

Hello lovelies!

I haven't been posting much lately and I admit progress has been a bit slow on my wips. I'm still working on them of course but I've hit a bit of writer's block again. It pains me that this has happened and I'm working on trying to inspire myself by drawing or reading other people's fics.

The point of this little post is I'm wondering if having a beta reader would help? Or at least someone that wouldn't mind if I bounced ideas off of them?

I've never done this before except when I've managed to convince my sister to read something new I wrote. She's not into Undertale though and so doesn't quite get the weird things we get up to lol.

If you're interested, feel free to reach out through dm's or even just through this post. I'm not expecting anything official but if you have a good understanding of English and grammer, that'd be appreciated. Also, this should go without saying, but it'd also be good if you either have experience writing or enjoy reading Undertale or other works.

If you have any advice, I welcome that too! I've never thought of this before so I really don't know what I'm doing... (⁠-⁠_⁠-⁠;⁠)

[theloveoffootball10]

sᴛɪᴄᴋᴡɪᴛᴜ - ᴛ ᴡ ᴇ ɴ ᴛ ʏ

m a s t e r l i s t

ᴛ ᴡ ᴇ ɴ ᴛ ʏ

Arriving in Italy I can't wait to get to the track, I don't want to be presumptuous so I've booked my own hotel room or rather Chelsea has sorted me a room with the team but I'm desperate to see Lando. The way we left things last weekend was so perfect, I want to carry that into this weekend as well.

Thanks to a flight delay I arrive at the paddock just after the start of qualifying so it's pretty quiet with the media already getting the photos they need earlier today. No matter how today goes Lando and I have already decided we're going out for some proper Italian food tonight and I can't wait to eat my body weight in pasta.

"Lucía you made it! Lando said you were delayed!" Alex shouts from across the paddock as she's making her way to the Ferrari garage.

"I was but I was always going to make it before the end of qualifying no matter what" I can deal with missing practice however I couldn't forgive myself if I missed qualifying.

"We should go for a couple of drinks tomorrow after the race either just us or with Charles and Lando!" Since we met in Miami Alex and I have text a lot and I really like her. Out of all of the girls in the paddock she's the one I've clicked with the most.

"Yes we should! I'll text you to arrange somewhere" saying a quick goodbye to Alex I make my way to the McLaren garage. When I spoke to my dad about coming to Monza he was insistent that I watched a weekend from Lando's garage and Lando being who he is, didn't argue. Grabbing a headset I stand next to Max "how's it going?"

"Ah Lucía you made it! Nice to see you. He's doing good there's 8 minutes of Q1 left but he should be safe”

"Look I know we got off on the wrong foot and I don't think I ever apologised but I'm going to swallow my pride and tell you I'm sorry for how I acted in the middle of the paddock Max" after speaking to Liv I realise things between her and Max could potentially be quite serious and I want to support my best friend the way she has me.

"You don't need to apologise. I can't lie I had my doubts about you but naturally Lando didn't want to know and I was also wrong about you. I want to set the record straight though, after I met Liv I completely ended things with Becca, we haven’t spoken since then" Max explains, his side of the story matching exactly what Liv told me.

"I believe you Max. All I ask is that you don't hurt her. She's been hurt before and it nearly broken her, she's the closest I have to a sister and I don't want to see her that hurt again" I'm not unreasonable I just want Liv to be happy and treated how she should be treated

"Likewise" I watch as Max turns to one of the mechanics in the garage whispering to him despite the noise from the track outside. Turning my attention back to the screen I watch as Lando sails through Q1.

"Lando, the garage have asked me to let you know Lucía has arrived in the last few minutes" I hear Will saying over the radio.

"Hi baby" I can hear the smile on Lando's face as he replies to Will's message. Turning to Max I give him a look.

"Don't give me that look your boyfriend is pretty fucking insistent when he wants to be"

"Thanks Max" I can't take the smile off my face now Lando knows I've made it.

Watching as the clock ticks down to the end of Q3 I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding as no one is quicker than Lando. For a second week in a row he's starting the race from pole position. I'm so happy for him I turn to hug Max both of us beaming with pride.

"That's how it's done boys! Go on, find him I know he'll be looking for you" Max ushers me to find Lando but I know I have to wait until after his interview. Standing at the front of the garage I keep out of the mechanics way while I wait for Lando. As he makes his way down the pit lane I can tell he's spotted me by the way helmet and everything ends up on the floor, I also notice Alesha the F1 TV host trying to stop him but he's got tunnel vision right now.

"Pole position baby!" I smile wrapping my arms around Lando's neck as his arms hold my waist tight "I can't wait to see you turn pole position into P1 Lando!" I can't help but kiss Lando my hands on his cheeks holding him. This is what weekends are about for me.

"I want to do it for you. My good luck charm" as Lando lowers his racing suite I can't help but run my fingers over the muscles in his back. "Come with me while I get my pole ring fit. I want you there" agreeing with Lando I follow him to the office where the jeweller is waiting to size the ring that will be specially fit for Lando.

As Lando tries on different mock ups of the ring he'll be getting I bite my lip. I already think he has thick fingers but seeing a ring on his index finger makes it look thicker.

"What do you think baby? Index or middle finger?" Lando asks me as the jeweller stands up leaving us alone for a second.

"Which ever one you prefer but" leaning down so only Lando can hear me I whisper "either way I'd like you to finger me when you're wearing it"

"Fuck baby you can't talk to me like that when we're here" Lando looks at me alarmed and I know what he's thinking.

"I'm just saying" standing up straight as the jeweller comes back I act completely normal. He doesn't need to know what thoughts are running through my mind.

The next day I'm stood in the garage as we prepare for the race to start. I've already been to see my dad to wish him luck but it's a strange feeling not watching from his garage. I guess from now on my time is going to be split between both garages.

As we hear Crofty's famous "it's lights out and away we go" I hold my breath hoping Lando can keep his lead, everyone is making a big deal of him not finishing a lap leading when he starts from pole and I know it's bothering him.

I let out an audible gasp as Piastri goes around the outside of Lando causing him to break to avoid a collision, he wasn't expecting that move from his team mate. Muttering fuck under my breath so only Max and I can hear I'm going to be nervous for the rest of the race now.

"He'll be fuming at that move"

"Max it was his only option. If he didn't break they'd have crashed and both been out of the race" I can't believe that has happened. With every radio message from Lando or lack of, I can feel his annoyance building. By the end of the race he just isn't answering Will at all.

Despite being P3 and securing another podium Lando's face tells a totally different story. He's barely speaking to anyone and the way he's throwing everything around tells me he's in a vile mood. If this is how he is now I dread to think what he must have been like after Austria. As we watch the footage of the cool down room Lando is sat with his head in his hands biting his nails.

"Just to warn you Lucía he's going to be in a rotten mood probably for the rest of the day now" Max tells me as we leave for the podium.

"I gathered that. Just how bad do you think it'll be?" I ask having never seen Lando in a bad mood yet.

"He's going to be angry at himself, the team, Oscar and probably you for no reason. The best advice I can give you is to not take anything he says personally" great. Max is really selling an angry Lando to me right now. As Lando makes his way to the podium I can see the rage radiating from him, he doesn't want to be there right now. When he's handed the trophy the grimace on his face does nothing to hide his mood. There's no champagne pop and he's completely avoiding Oscar like the plague. The first opportunity he gets he's walking away from the podium.

"I'm going to try and catch him before he goes into interviews" I tell Max before weaving my way through the crowd who are all celebrating Charles and Ferrari's home win. As I walk through the McLaren motor home I spot Lando throwing his podium cap onto a table and about to run up the stairs to his drivers room "Lando wait there"

"What?" Lando turns to look at me but keeps walking.

"I'm sorry that didn't go how you want it to" following Lando I put my hand on the door stopping him from closing it in my face "don't push me away"

"Lucía I don't know what the fuck you want me to say"

"Babe you don't have to say anything just let me be here for you" I say pulling Lando into a cuddle which he thankfully reciprocates. The mood he's in I half expected him to push me away, I think I might have been less surprised if he did.

"Today has been a disaster" what I've noticed about Lando is that when something gets him down he catastrophises. Running my fingers through Lando's hair I make him look at me.

"I know it wasn't what you expected from today but remember you put up a brilliant fight and still came away with a podium and points. I'm proud of you regardless and you need to be proud of yourself"

"You have no idea what I should be feeling" before I can respond we're interrupted by a knock on the door which Lando opens to see his PR manager Sophie waiting for him.

"You need to be in the media pen in the next 5 minutes. Sorry to interrupt you both" Sophie says with a guilty look on her face.

"It's fine Soph we're done here for now anyway" Lando says walking past me and Sophie. I'm dumbfounded. I know he's upset but this behaviour is insane.

"Sorry Lucía I didn't mean to ruin whatever was going on"

"Don't worry about it Sophie. Apparently we were done anyway" I say with a shrug as we make our way back into the paddock, me looking to find Max and Sophie to follow Lando. I stop in my tracks as I spot Lando with Alesha laughing and joking. My blood boils and it takes everything for me to hold back saying exactly what I think. He's completely cold with me but jokes on with her, regardless of his mood this man is rubbing me the wrong way.

"Lando move we have places to be" Sophie practically shouts putting an end to Lando and Alesha's conversation, somehow I think she sensed my annoyance at the scene in front of us.

The next few hours don't get any better. Lando is still in a foul mood and barely says a word in the car back to his hotel. I want to be nice about this but I'm struggling.

"Talk to me babe" I say walking into Lando's hotel room with him. He's pretty much left the track as soon as his debrief is done and I know it's going to be a long night until my flight home.

"I don't want to talk to you or anyone about today" Lando says with an attitude I've never heard so harsh from him as he throws his phone and hoodie on the bed.

"Whoa I know you're annoyed but what did I do?" I completely understand Lando's frustration but it's unacceptable for him to take it out on me.

"You're just so fucking involved it's pissing me off. You think you know everything when you know Jack shit. You're pissing me off Lucía"

"Are you serious right now? I know the team have fucked up today but that's not on me!" I can already tell his is going to end in a major row. It has been brewing since the end of the race. Lando is angry and the way he's behaving towards me is making me angry.

"No but you're the one who hasn't stopped being annoying since"

"Fuck me I'm trying to be supportive and this is the thank you I get. Lando if you don't want me here just fucking say and I'll get an earlier flight! You can text that slut Alesha I'm sure she'll comfort you without being annoying" I can't help but raise my voice, it's what I do when I get angry it's part of who I am. I always take things too far and I never learn. I know I shouldn't have brought up Alesha but she's got under my skin, she's flirted with Lando all weekend especially today and he's done very little to stop her.

Not saying anything Lando pulls his polo top over his head and that action alone shows me how angry he is as he walks into the bathroom slamming the door. Is he serious right now? Hearing the shower I wait it out to see what mood Lando comes back in hoping he'll calm down.

"What are you still doing here? I thought you said you're going home early so I can't invite Alesha over" hearing the tone in Lando's voice I'm so done with him.

"Do you know what I'm fucking going. You're acting like an absolute cunt and I'm not here to be spoken to like a piece of shit. I’m not a doormat Lando, you’re not going to walk all over me and get away with it. I'll see you when I see you dickhead" picking my bag up off the bed I storm out of Lando's hotel room slamming the door behind me. I don't expect him to come after me, we're both far too angry for that. I don't cry either, I'm far too angry for that. Rather than involve everyone and make things worse I do the only thing that makes sense and I grab an Uber to the airport. I might have four hours to wait until my flight takes off but going home is the best thing for me right now.

[jerzwriter]

High Score

Book: Open Heart (Prequel - Casey's Medical School Years)

Pairing: F!MC (Casey MacTavish) x F!OC (Jessica Phillips)

Rating: Teen

Warnings: Mentions of homophobia including a slur

Words: 1,545

Summary: Casey and her girlfriend Jessica are both busy med school students with conflicting schedules, and they're both eagerly looking forward to sharing lunch at "their" diner. One idiot nearly derails their plans, but the women won't let him win.

A/N: This is based on a real event from my past, and the game really was called "King Kong." The picture in the header, however, is Donkey Kong because there are no pictures of the cheap knockoff out there! lol Participating in @choicesjunechallenge - romance, love, Pride Month, @choicespride and @choicesficwriterscreations pride bingo

��Fuck!” Jessica groaned.

She swore she’d pay attention. There was no way she was missing her stop this time. With competing hectic schedules, Jessica hadn’t seen Casey in nearly a week, and, except for this lunch date, they wouldn’t see each other again until the weekend. So she was not wasting five precious minutes of their time because she missed her bus stop. But in the end, she did.

Pressing the buzzer frantically, she grabbed the books that caused this whole mess and darted to the front of the bus, barely waiting for it to come to a full stop before jumping off. She walked frantically down the street and shook her head when she saw her reflection in the diner’s window. Quickly slicking back the errant red locks that had slipped out of her ponytail in the mele and applying lip gloss before entering. But it was for naught. Casey was already smirking in her direction as she walked in. She nudged a vanilla shake toward Jessica’s seat just before she leaned over the table for a quick kiss. 

“Glad to see you’re right on time,” Casey teased.

“Hey, it’s just five minutes!” Jessica protested; looking at her watch, she corrected herself. “No, it’s four minutes. If I hadn’t put on lip gloss for you, I could have shaved off 30 seconds! But I wanted to be pretty for you.”

Casey’s eyes crinkled as she giggled. “Oh please, you’re beautiful without a stitch of makeup. And I’m not naïve – you just tidied up out there in an attempt to conceal that you missed the bus stop… again.”

Jessica’s shoulders dropped in defeat, and she reached across the table, lacing her fingers with Casey’s.

“I was studying for my biostats exam. I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to apologize,” Casey grinned a smile so warm Jessica was instantly at ease. “I get that more than anyone. But far be it for me not to tease you.”

The waitress arrived and placed two cheeseburgers with sweet potato fries before the two women.

“You ordered for me?” Jess asked.

“I didn’t mean to be presumptuous, but you order the same thing every time we come here. And, if you wanted something else, I figured I’d just wrap your food and take it home for dinner.”

“Oh,” Jess winked as she stuck a fry in her mouth. “What are you, rich now?”

“Yes, I’m loaded in cheeseburger and fry money,” Casey laughed. “I just figured I’d get the ball rolling. I know you – you’ll need to play that damn Donkey Kong knockoff in the back before we leave, and forgive me for wanting maybe 10 minutes of makeout time with my girlfriend before we have to go our separate ways.”

“It’s called King Kong, and yes. I do have to play. Need to ensure I still occupy all top ten spots!”

“Afraid you don’t,” the waitress said while refilling their water glasses. “I noticed someone bumped you out of first this morning.”

“OUT OF FIRST!” Jess gasped. “Not even fifth or eighth, but first!”

“Wow, with how you’re grasping numbers, that biostat exam should be a cakewalk for you,” Casey snickered.

Jessica shot Casey a look and squeezed her hand tighter. “Well, you better finish that burger quickly if you want a makeout session! I have to knock that fucker down to at least third place.”

Casey couldn’t help but laugh; she already knew the makeout session wasn’t happening. Her girlfriend was obsessed with old arcade games from the 80s. That’s one of the reasons this was their favorite diner. But King Kong was where she excelled, and she proudly boasted that she always claimed at least eight of the top ten scores, and always the top three. She knew Jess well enough to know someone else being in first was unacceptable, and vengeance must be had.

“Who was it?” Jess demanded of the waitress. “Do you know who beat me?”

The waitress looked uneasily between Casey and Jessica before she let the name out. “Dirk. You know, that tall guy who….”

Jessica threw her napkin to the table. “Oh, I know Dirk.” She spat, jumping to her feet. “I’ll be right back.”

Casey asked the waitress to wrap their food, then quickly followed after her girlfriend. One thing Jessica loved about King Kong was having twelve characters next to each of her high scores. Each spot proudly proclaimed JESSLUVSCASE. But at the mention of Dirk’s name, both women knew this was about more than a high score.

The small dark room that housed the three games was empty this time of day, which was for the best; Casey’s heart sank at the sight of Jess hunched over the game when she entered. Jess’s face was red as she valiantly tried to hold back angry tears, though one or two had won their battle as they trailed down her cheeks. Casey peered over her girlfriend’s shoulder and let out a sigh, her suspicions confirmed. She looped her arms around Jessica’s waist.

“Don’t let it upset you. He wants it to upset you… to upset us… don’t let him win.”

“If he said me,” Jess’s voice trembled. “If he used my name and not yours, then I…”

Casey looked at the screen again… nine rows of JESSLUVSCASE topped by one CASEYISADYKE.

“Jess,” Casey whispered. “He’s a fucking moron. I mean, come on… he didn’t even get it right. I’m as femme as they come.”

That got a little laugh, but Jess was still crestfallen. “Do you think that asshole even knows the difference?”

“Nope. I don’t. But he’s an ignorant piece of shit, Jess, and I’m not letting him ruin the little time I have with you this week.”

Jess let out a breath and wiped away a tear. “I was planning on playing. So… you don’t mind if I play now… do you?”

Casey raised a brow at her girlfriend. “You’re going to play until you knock that off. Aren’t you?”

“You better fucking believe I am. I’m sorry, Casey, but if you want to make out, it will have to be right here, between games, because I’m not leaving until that shit’s gone.”

“As much as I appreciate you defending my honor, Jess, you don’t have to….”

“Can you run and get me quarters?” Jess interrupted.

“Jess, I said….”

“Casey! Quarters!”

“All right, then,” Casey saluted.

For the next hour, Casey made jokes about the dexterity of Jess’s wrists, quizzed her on carpel tunnel syndrome, teased it was a good thing she didn’t want to be a surgeon and more as Jessica focused on bumping Dirk and his bigotry off the board. A bright grin crossed her face as she entered JESSLUVSCASE one last time, then she fell back into a nearby stool. Casey moved toward her and took her hand.

“My hero,” she smiled. “You know, I appreciate it, but he could just come back and do it again tomorrow.”

“It took the fucker a year to get on the board. I doubt he’ll do it again easily… besides….” She stopped.

“Besides, what?”

“He’s in a lab across the hall from me today. And when I’m through threatening his ass, he won’t be so quick to do it again.”

Casey lifted her hand and caressed Jess’s tear-stained cheek. Offering a tender kiss before nuzzling her head on her shoulder.

“I’m a little amazed at you,” Jess said. “You’re taking this too well.”

Casey shrugged. “It’s not that I’m not upset… but I know Neanderthals like Dirk that will never change. Besides…” Casey grinned.

“Besides what?”

“I’m already fantasizing about the things I’m going to do to that sweet little car he’s always bragging about.”

“Casey MacTavish!” Jessica laughed. “As enticing as that is… I don’t want you to be charged with vandalism. That would be terrible for you when looking for a residency placement.”

“You’re assuming I’d be caught,” Casey winked. “You forget, I grew up in Philly. I know a thing or two.”

“Promise me you won’t do anything stupid….”

“Like ever? That’s a tall order, Jess.”

Jess pulled Casey close in her arms. “I’m sorry we don’t have time for that makeout session. I know how much that means to you.”

“Means to me?” Casey gasped. “Geeze, I like to think it means something to you, too!”

“It does,” Jess laughed. “Come stay over with me tonight. Let me make it up to you.”

“But your roommate hates me,” Casey sighed. 

“She doesn’t hate you… she dislikes… everyone. Besides, fuck her.”

“Well, I’d rather fuck you, but….”

The two women laughed, and it warmed Casey’s heart to see Jess genuinely smile.

“Fine, I’ll endure Bertha the horrible, just for you….”

“You won’t even see her! But you’ll see me,” Jess smiled. “Casey, I’m so glad you’re part of my life.”

“And I’m glad you’re part of mine. Not everyone is willing to risk carpel tunnel syndrome a week before exams to defend my honor.”

“Well, if they’re unwilling to do that, they don’t deserve you!”

“Here,” Casey said, holding up the take-out bag. “It’s your lunch. Now, get your bus before you’re late for class.”

“Thank you. But I promise you, I won’t be late tonight. My place at 8:00?”  

“Nothing could keep me away.”

Tagging in reblog.

[carelesswispe]

Howdy hi and hello i hope you’re having a good day!! I haven’t see anyone who’s written for both of my fixations this is so exciting :o if you’re ok with 2 different fandoms in the same request maybe share some of ur headcanons for a relationship with Xiao and Felix? Like what attracts them to their partner, maybe their love languages, their approach to asking them out, stuff like that :o I know this might be a tad presumptuous but feel free to add anyone u feel like writing atm!! -🐞

Relationship Headcanons for Felix and Xiao

hi ladybug anon !! i'm sorry it took so long for this! i lit gasped when i saw felix the loml and uhrm....i think i have written too much ehe...anyway ,, i hope you enjoy it regardless and thank you so much for requesting! (trying smm new with the dividers ! please let me know what you think ^^)

Xiao 

Xiao is a loner. So in my honest opinion, I feel that he doesn’t have much of a “type”. Or at least if he had one, he wouldn’t admit it. Deep inside, he’s just yearning for someone stubborn enough to reach out to him first.

But if I had to name a couple of qualities, Xiao would want someone who is capable of handling themselves, not just in combat per se, but someone with a strong personality which inspires confidence in others. A strong person who is willing to lend those in need a helping hand. Not only that, they have to be pretty stubborn to keep pursuing the stubborn yaksha no matter how much he insists for them to “stay away”

Now for love languages, I was stuck between acts of service and gift giving. Here's my rationale; 

Xiao’s adeptal form is implied to be a bird or an avian creature of some sort. Birds are known to exhibit some sort of “gift giving” towards their mates and therefore, gift giving might be one of the ways Xiao expresses his love for you. Nothing too grand, mind you, but perhaps some Qingxin picked only from the highest of mountain peaks. Protection charms infused with some adeptal arts which bring good fortune and prosperity to the wearer.

Due to his work, he might not be able to be with you all the time. With a call of his name, however, no matter where you are, he’ll be able to come and help you. Xiao isn’t confident in being able to be there with you 24/7 but he is confident in his strength. In your moments of peril, Xiao will be there for you, ready to bring whoever caused your distress pain. He hopes that the services his might provides you with will be able to show just how much he loves you.

Inexperienced as he is, forgive Xiao for being a little bit clumsy when he asks you out, he’s trying his best. The adepti asks for romantic advice from his fathe…I mean, Zhongli. The ex-archon is, of course, as clueless as the yaksha. Despite this, the natural born lady-killer he is, Zhongli gives relatively good advice for someone who hasn’t dated before…how curious. 

Anyway, equipped with Zhongli’s wise pointers, Xiao prepares a bouquet of Qingxin and a nice spot in the mountains with a good view of the town below and the stars above. Now, he just hopes that you will accept his invitation. With sweaty palms and a flushed face, he stands in front of you, forgetting the sentence he had rehearsed over and over in his head. 

“(name)...I…” the words catch in his throat as you turn around to look at him, damn, did you always look this stunning? Your captivating smile played on your lips as you waited for Xiao to continue speaking. ‘Ah, screw it,’ the yaksha’s mind drew blanks and he decided to just spit out what he felt. “I like you, so will you go out for a picnic with me tonight?” His golden eyes stared into yours, sincerity oozing from them as he slowly pulled out the bouquet of flowers he had prepared beforehand. 

Time seemed to slow down for Xiao, each second ticking by excruciatingly long as he awaited your response. And just when he thinks that he was turned into a statue, you reply. Relief spreads across his chest and you could visibly see his eyes soften the moment you accepted his invitation. The emotions he’s feeling are…indescribable. He feels so happy he could fly, his cheeks are burning so hot that he almost feels lightheaded, stupid even. It’s a feeling that he never wanted to stop feeling. 

At the start of your relationship with Xiao, you might have to initiate a lot of physical sentiments. Like holding his hand, cuddling, or what have you. As I said in the beginning, the young yaksha had been isolated, away from a lot of people for so long. He doesn’t know how to start these things. Later on, however, as your relationship slowly warms up, Xiao gains the confidence to make the first move. Who knows, he might even surprise you. 

Felix

Felix is very similar to Xiao in a sense that they are both loners so I imagine most things would be the same. When it comes to taste in lovers, I think that Felix would want someone who is strong and enjoys honing and training their skills as much as he does. After all, Felix does spend a great deal of time in the training after all, and he admires someone who can push themselves to improve more and more. 

In terms of love languages, I feel like he’d be the type to show more than say, being a man of action. So in that regard, he would have acts of service and quality time. 

He would take to heart your small mannerisms and preferences. And like, when you’re the type of person whose feet would get cold for no reason at all, he would prepare a set of socks for you anytime you need it. If you get snacky when working, before you could even think about getting up for some snacks, you find a small bowl of your favourite snacks beside your work desk. I am unequivocally in love with this man. 

OKAY hear me out for the quality time part. Felix is the type of person to consider sparring together a worthy bonding activity, being the training-obsessed maniac he is, and as such, would treasure time spent together, despite little to no words being exchanged between the two of you. 

As his feelings slowly develop and blossom, his behaviour would be the same as always, if not just spending more time with you. Sylvain would be the first to notice and offer some “dating advice” which Felix brutally ignores and denies his feelings. 

From then on though, the way he stared at you was piercing. Making you think that perhaps you have done something to upset him. Feeling understandably slightly miffed, you set your mind to confront the man about his actions. By pure coincidence, almost as if reading your mind, Felix asks you to meet him at the training room after class. 

Meet him you did, walking towards the training room immediately after Professor Byleth dismisses the class, wanting to finally hear answers after a whole month of Felix’s targeted stares. Every time you tried to confront him about it before, he would quickly turn his face away and escape to god-knows-where. 

The closer you came towards the training room, the more you felt your heart beat. You had no idea why you were being like this. It must’ve been Sylvain’s influence. That damn redhead had been teasing you about Felix since forever. Was it that obvious that you liked that brunet? You thought that you hid it pretty well, other than the fact that you were always there, training with him, and spent as much time as you could with the swordsman. 

“Aah, whatever! Let’s get this over with!” you whispered-shouted to yourself, taking a deep breath as you tried your best to make long, confident strides into the training room. There, you saw Felix, his back turned to you as he seemed to be deep in thought. As you opened your mouth, he turned to you.

With his usual stoic expression he says, “Finally, you came.” it seems like he sensed your presence the moment you came into the room. You wouldn’t be too surprised by that. After all, he was a master swordsman. “I was starting to think that you forgot about our meeting.” he said bluntly, picking up a training sword before throwing it to you.

Surprised, you catch the sword and look at Felix with a confused expression. You thought he invited you over for a chat, not a duel. Opening your mouth, you were about to question the man about it before he spoke again “Let’s have a duel first.” was all he said before picking up a sword of his own.

At this point, you’ve come to expect this kind of behaviour from the brunet so you weren’t too taken aback. Just like that, the both of you got into your respective stances and clashed swords. 

The sounds of two people panting filled the training room as the two of you got into a standstill, both sides refusing to concede defeat. “Let’s stop it here.” At this, you hunch over, exhaustion overtaking your body. ‘I should have brought water, I knew this was going to happen’ you thought, hands struggling to even hold onto the hilt of the sword. 

Once you finally regain some sort of composure, you slowly straighten up, eyes widening when you see Felix holding out a towel and a bottle of water. “Here, you look like a mess.” his usual sharp tongue strikes again. ‘It’s your fault in the first place’, is what you wanted to say but you were too tired to snap back. Muttering something under your breath, you grabbed the refreshments from the swordsman’s hands and used it. As you guzzle the beverage down with great vigour. “Hey, slow down, you’re going to choke” He warns but you don’t care, finishing the last of the drink.

“So what was it that you wanted to tell me? “ you prompt, looking at Felix’s hazel irises, analysing his facial expressions just to see something, anything. To your surprise, his usual sharp gaze had a tender quality to it, almost as if he was looking at something dear to him. As you notice this, you move the towel you’ve been clutching to wipe your sweat when you realise something gleaming from underneath the towel.

Unravelling the cloth slightly, you gasp to see a silver ring hidden within the soft fabric. Seeing that you found it, Felix takes a deep breath, closing his eyes before opening them again to look at you in the eye, “Listen, (name), I’ve thought about this a lot and I enjoy having you around. This is what I could think about every time I looked at you.”

With a smile, you suppress your urge to roll your eyes at the man’s indirect proposal. Seeing the look in your eyes as you looked to the ring and to him, he starts to fidget in place and a crimson red blush starts to form on his cheek and ears. “Wh, what’s that look for? You know what that means right?” 

You don’t reply and Felix starts to lose his mind, a few moments pass and he finally says it, “Fine, okay, I want you to be my lover and hopefully my spouse in the near future. Please, say yes. Let’s get married and stay together until we die…” at his passionate declaration, a smile spreads across your face, in awe of this man’s surprisingly sappy nature. “I love you”, he looked at you with those same loving eyes and you could feel the warmth oozing out of his normally cold self. 

Opening your mouth, you were about to say something before Felix, suddenly flustered, turned around abruptly and prepared to power walk away before you even got the chance to say anything. You definitely weren’t going to let that happen, he was being so sweet too! Plus, your calves were burning and no amount of love and willpower could have gotten you to catch up with Felix once he starts sprinting away from you at full speed. 

Catching him, before he could run, you give him a reply and the rest is history. Felix is a very serious and devoted husband, trying his best for the sake of your future together with him. He just hopes that his apprehensive nature doesn’t scare you away but who is he kidding, if you’d stuck around from the start, there's no way you’re running now.

[blueikeproductions]

I don't mean to be presumptuous and forgive me if I come across that way, but I notice whenever you talk about IDW Transformers, you seem very dismissive of its fans, which I feel is a little unfair. I know you're not the biggest fan of IDW and that's no big deal, but the way you mention the people who do like it, there's kind of an undertone that they're not "real" Transformers fans. Again, I could just be assuming things and I don't mean to offend, but I don't think that kind of tribalism is healthy for any fandom. We're long past the days of Trukk vs Munky, after all.

Oh I don’t consider them fake fans, but I do consider some that I’ve seen on Twitter to not be as well versed outside of IDW. There’s having a preference and then there’s only viewing a specific version as the only version, like a dad I heard about who only let his children watch G1 and banned everything else from Beast Wars to Prime.

Younger fans will learn as they go along, but sometimes I don’t trust some whose online personality is only to just virtue signal how gay late IDW was, despite it actually being fairly toxic in those areas, like Rewind not actually being loyal to Chromedome when you read the fine print or the rather uncomfortable friendship Misfire & Grimlock have while Grimlock’s struggling with his cognitive decline.

So forgive me if I do come off as dismissive because I find those factions irritating but I never once didn’t consider them true fans. A fan’s a fan, but some take things too far.

[quiet-kunoichi]

[LAP]

[ surprise! it's some old ass meme || @spikyhairedsilhouette ] She had been there to witness the show. Lingering in the dimly-lit corner of the underground bar, nursing her drink close to her chest. Scintillating stare hardly strayed from his glistening visage, skin pebbled with sweat as he ferociously played the drum set like it owed him something precious or vile, Kimiko couldn't decide. Shikamaru was lost in the music and probably some ludicrous concoction of drugs and alcohol, as per usual. She didn't intend to be seen, tonight. It had been a little over a week since she last saw him, and he seemed less than thrilled that she had picked up and left shortly after their usual bedsheet tryst. It was the horrendous loss she suffered in the ring the following night that kept her away, unwilling to let him see the aftermath— turns out, she was a sore loser.

The original plan was to watch his performance from afar, then take herself back home. It felt too close to groveling to show up at his show expecting some kind of recollision after practically ghosting him last time. Someone more emotionally mature than herself would recognize that an apology was owed. Kimiko, on the other hand, wouldn't even consider waving that white flag of surrender. It's not like they were in any kind of committed relationship, anyway. Whatever they had, it wasn't serious. That mantra failed to sink in as Kimiko found herself stalking through the dispersing crowd, tailing the stag and some whack-ass groupie he plucked from the crowd after the show. If this playboy thought he was going to whet his whistle with just any face-painted clown, he had better come up with some God that would consider forgiving him at the pearly gates. It took some thorough 'convincing', but Kimiko made it back stage without some sycophantic escort to hang onto. Her heavy boot busts the shoddy doorknob lock, and the gnarly scene is revealed. Said groupie couldn't have leaped off of Shikamaru's lap any faster. "Sorry princess, I don’t mean to interrupt your play date." Nevermind the very reason she roughed up the backstage 'security' was to interrupt this revolting rendezvous. Man-spreading on the ratty couch, Shikamaru appears like a disgruntled teenager— effectively cockblocked. A vein in Kimiko's forehead was already throbbing. At the very least, blondie is adept at reading the room. "You didn't tell me you had a girlfriend." And a scary one at that. "That's because—" Excuses already pouring out of his sloppy lipstick-riddled lips. Glossy pink was absolutely not his color. "He doesn't." Kimiko offers the answer he was looking for in the middle of his sentence. '"I didn't tell you anything." "Do you mind if the adults talk?" While Kimiko appears nonplussed, there's a threatening energy surrounding her. The phantom song of a rattlesnake's tail as she approaches, vicious glare zeroed in on her target. The brassy haired blonde thinks wisely to jump out of the way and save her skin. The metal door clicks shut behind her.

She hates how expectant he looks. Like he wasn't just caught entertaining another girl. "Give me one good reason I shouldn’t fucking kick in your teeth right now." It was a rigged game. "Because you wouldn’t want to ruin this pretty face." Arms stretch to their wingspan across the back of the couch, that wily grin of his only stirring her up all the more. "That’s presumptuous of you." "Just an educated guess, considering you were sitting on this pretty face last time."

"Get a grip." The scoff accompanies her signature eyeroll. She’s flustered now, teetering between her anger and something else. "Come on, you just saved me from some groupie hopped up on molly." He knew he was getting through to her, effectively pruning her thorns. "Right, because you really looked like you were kicking and screaming for help." Her tone is mockingly jovial, but her stare is beyond disapproving— closer still to straight-up eviscerating. "And your appearance now makes up for the last couple of weeks..?" That comment hit too close to the bullseye, those once-flattening quills once more poised for defensive strike. She doesn't respond, and the lack of banter is enough of an indicator for Shikamaru to sweep that conversation under the rug. Instead, he reaches through the invisible barrier and clasps her wrist, tugging her forward with the strength of his forearms and landing her in his lap before it went cold. "You’re here now, let’s turn that playdate fantasy into a reality. I'll call you mommy if you call me daddy." "You’re deplorable." Shikamaru knows better than to try and kiss her with another woman's lipstick still marring his mouth. He opts to smear it over the heat of her exposed throat, instead. "And you reek." Naturally, she wasn't finished doling out jabs. Nevertheless, his hands are roaming, undeterred from his goal. Kimiko could feel his dastardly smirk curling into her skin as he hums his reply whilst grazing his teeth over sensitive skin. "You really know how to flatter a man." "Just what concoction of poison are you on tonight?" She needs to feign total composure regardless of how her breath just hitched. "You want some?" Crooning. "I want you—" "That much is obvious." His turn to interrupt her. "—to stop infuriating me." She's holding onto her frustration, or at least she's trying to. He knows that he's wearing down her reserves, he can tell in the way her body starts to give in to the persistence of his ministrations. The weight of her starting to melt further into his lap, her back naturally arching beneath his touch. Despite the venom still trailing her voice, Kimiko was certainly not putting up a fight. Even her hands had begun to find their place on his shoulders, up into his hair. "Listen, Kitten—" Sweet talking his way to the honeypot. He just likes to brandish those submissive pet names against her for a damn thrill. "I won't be stopping anything unless you beg me to." Heavy-lidded eyes stare unabashedly up at his target as her face blooms into a brilliantly pigmented hue. Speechless, but not for long if he has his way. She's going to flay him alive, and he's not ashamed to admit that the mere thought of it arouses his interest. His drum-stick calloused hands have found her backside, boldly plucking the webbing of her fishnets as though it were the strings of an angelic harp.

"So then, what will it be? Are you going to let up on that sour attitude, or should I speed dial a fresh groupie and commit adultery?" The fire in her eyes is exactly what he was hunting for.

[himbowithapen]

Monsterfucktober - Day 7, Vampire

The empty streets of Nantes were cold that night.

            Cobbles, old and uneven, lined the path through the French streets and roads. They passed by houses in an unmoving stream, all grey and well-trodden. They sank into the ground underneath bridges and arches, there the shade gave room for shady activities. And they circled round town squares and monuments. But even with the clear skies, the still air, and the sparkling stars, hardly anyone dared to leave their homes, for the streets, the bridges, and the town square were all being watched.

Roxane had no choice. Her client had gone back on his word to let her stay the night, and forced her out of his home the moment their business was done. In less than a minute, she was out in the cold in nothing but her loose, sheer dress. From the moment she set foot on those cobbles, her blood ran cold. Immediately, she felt distant eyes watching her, she couldn’t tell where from, but she knew already: she was being watched.

            She went door-to-door, knocking frantically and asking to be let in for the night. But few answered her plea, and of those who did, all accused her of being the monster. As much as she hated theirs words, she understood their fear; were she in their position, she would hesitate to allow entry to someone at night. There was no telling her from the monsters, not without a crucifix and a wooden stake.

            Still, she didn’t stop. Roxane went through three streets, all slums, knocking and begging to be let in. With every knock, she felt the watching eyes draw nearer and nearer. When she finally found someone brave enough to open their door to her, she swore it was just behind her.

            “Please, I beg you. Let me stay the night! I don’t want to die out here.” Tears welled in her eyes, she dropped to her knees and insisted that she was indeed a person.

            The lady who answered opened the door with an air of grace, stunning Roxane with her beauty, contained in just her simple nightgown. She seemed was weary, yet there was a hint of something in her eyes, which were brought out beautifully by her foundation. It reminded her of the way a man looked at her once; yearning mixed with pity. “Poor thing… What’s your name dear?”

“Roxane.”

“Lovely to meet you. I’m Isabeau, but you can call me Isa.” She craned her head around the door frame, checking out the street she’d come down. “Come in, Please.”

            Roxane nodded, and stepped into the house. Warm air embraced her and she turned to thank her rescuer, but as she turned to look, she saw it: just across the street from where she stood was a figure, looking right back at her. Isa shut the door and it vanished from sight. Then she turned to her. Just as soon as it was shut, Isa turned to her and addressed her directly. “I’ve seen you before.”

            “Oh?”

            “Yes. On street corners.” She bolted the door of her home. “The men would come to you, and lead you to their homes.”

            “Ah… yes.”

            “Oh it’s quite alright! I admire your confidence. It’s no wonder they like you so much.”

            “Yeah, until they’ve had their way with you and suddenly all that’s on their mind is kicking you out in the middle of the night!”

            Isa gave her a sympathetic look. “That’s just awful. I couldn’t imagine doing that to someone so pretty.” She then offered Roxane a drink.

Shortly after, the pair were sat in the Isa’s lounge, sipping on some spiced tea. It was unlike anything Roxane had tried before; flavours sizzling against her tongue, leaving a sting that wasn’t all that unpleasant. She had explained it as ‘spiced chai’, which was just the word for tea in India, where she had spent a few years before returning to France.

            “Did you go with your husband?”

            Isa gave her a confused look. “Husband?”

            “Oh! I’m sorry. Just, you have such a lovely home, and it may have been presumptuous but– forgive me, please.”

            “It’s quite alright. Anyone would expect someone like me, especially in a house such as this, would have married rich at some point.” She admired the room. “But no. This was all my own doing; well, I had some friends help from time to time, but it’s mostly me.”

            “It’s wonderful. I love the bookshelves, and the patterns on the ceiling.” She trailed off, deep in thought. “May I ask you something?”

            Isa crossed one leg over the other and leaned in. “Go on.”

            “Are you nobility? Again, I’m being presumptuous, but from the way you carry yourself and your fine tastes, I would guess you went to more galas than workplace meetings.”

            “Does it really show?” She stood up and inspected herself in the mirror. Specifically, she was pouting at her neatly-styled hair “Merde! I’ve fallen into old habits again.” While fixing her hair, making it wilder and natural, she continued. “When the revolution happened, I was abroad. I worried what would happen should I come back a noble, so I did my best to blend with common folk. But I suppose such things are hard to keep buried. You’ll keep my secret, won’t you Roxane?” She held Roxane’s hand in her own and stroke it with her thumb.

            Roxane felt her cheeks turn hot, not even the gentlest man she’d been with touched her skin so delicately. “Well, you’re the kindest noble I’ve ever met, not that I’ve met many. Why did you return?”

            Isa didn’t stop stroking her hand, but she looked away, as if to recount. “Oh, you know how it is. Sometimes things change. India was no longer an option for me, the region I lived in was bled dry, so to speak. So, I decided it was time I returned to France, where things are so much more alive.”        

Roxane struggled to pay attention; her neck was beautiful. Smooth and supple. She wanted to kiss it. But quickly, she adjusted her focus. “Is India not lively?”

            “Oh it was. The first few years were wonderful; places to feast everywhere you go. But we ate all the food, and suddenly it was a struggle to have a good time.”

            “And you chose France to come back to? Why, I struggle to find bread even when I have the money for it!” Roxane chuckled nervously, and looked back to the woman. She was staring at her softly, a slight smile across her lips.

            “Poor thing. Poor, sweet thing.” Isa sat down beside her, and lightly stroked her hair. Roxane tried pulling back, but Isa leaned over her, across her body until she was all but lying over Roxane. Her voice turned low, almost a whisper. “I’m not interested in bread.”

            Roxane’s eyes widened. She felt her heart thump in her chest, and her entire body stiffen as the urge to run kicked in. Isa was alluring, and Roxane wanted to trust that she was a well-meaning person, but there was something in the way she spoke to her, looked down on her. Either Isa was coming onto her, or she was playing with her food. When she mustered the courage to speak, her voice trembled. “Is it me you’re interested in?”

            “Mmmmm, very.” Isa slid down Roxane’s body, maintaining constant eye contact as she lowered her face between her thighs. Roxane’s heart skipped a beat. She was still unsure, but it would be a lie to say her heart didn’t skip a beat when she felt Isa’s hand caress her waist. She was almost lost in thought when the noble woman spoke again. “May I?”

            “Yes.” Said Roxane, almost without thought. “Please.”

            Isa dipped underneath her dress. Roxane leaned up to look at her, and through the sheer fabric she saw Isa’s pale forehead just ahead of her crotchless underwear. Fear gripped at her chest, festered in her stomach. She tried to brace herself, tensing her legs to fend for her life. But then she felt something wet poke through her underwear, and immediately she leaned back, gasping.

            A tongue against her clit had never felt so good. She could still feel the fear in her heart, but that only made the sensation more intense. Isa’s skill was impeccable, and when Roxane went to moan, she found herself speechless—breathless even. She clutched at the sofa they lay on, trying to keep her eyes open as she looked up at the fancy ceiling. “Oh merde. Oh merde! Oh!” Her hips thrusted almost automatically, but still Isa’s mouth persisted: she licked inside Roxane’s vagina, sucked gently on her clit, then, gradually, her sucking became more intense. Roxane was panting, trying to keep her wits in spite of the explosions of pleasure taking place between her legs. Then she felt something scrape against her flesh: something sharp.

            “MERDE!” She kicked away from Isa, pulling her skirt back and trying her best to stand up. Isa let her, pulling back to sit up on the sofa. When Roxane got eyes on her, Isa was straddled on the sofa, with one leg on the floor.

            “What’s the matter, did I bite too hard?” She looked Roxane in the eye, and that was when she saw it: a trail of blood, trickling down the side of Isa’s mouth and collecting on her chin. “You taste so good, darling.”

            “What the fuck?! Why did you…” She stopped, frozen in terror as Isa gave her a wide smile. There was blood all over her teeth, all over her fangs. She looked down and saw it on her dress; a fresh red stain near the hem. “Don’t hurt me. Please.”

            “Hurt you? Oh no, not yet sweetheart.” Isa stepped up from the sofa, pulling the shoulder straps of her nightgown down past her shoulders, exposing her breasts. “I want to play first. Come, be my plaything.” Roxane was enchanted by her smile, by her exposed breasts, but the blood was too much for her.

            “Sorry, I’m off duty.” Her legs carried her away at high speed, and before she knew it Roxane was sprinting deeper into Isa’s house. She heard the vampire giggle behind her, but didn’t turn back.

*

“Rooooooxaneee.” Isa’s voice flowed across the house like fine wine over someone’s tongue. Roxane had hidden herself, tucked away in Isa’s wardrobe.  “You don’t have to hide from me tonight.” It sounded like she was singing. It was beautiful, but struck terror into her heart. “Rooooooxaneee…”

            She was getting closer. It was getting closer. Roxane heard the bedroom door creak as Isa slowly pushed it open all the way. Looking through the gap in the wardrobe, Roxane could see she was entirely naked. In spite of her terror, the feeling of Isa’s tongue on her clit brought her mind to annoyance: Why are you so evil yet so drop-dead gorgeous?! A trail of blood ran down her neck, between her breasts, and had reached her stomach before the droplet settled.

            She turned towards her en-suite, and Roxane lost sight of her. She cowered in silence, trying to keep control of her breathing and hoping that Isa would look elsewhere. But then suddenly the door of the wardrobe was thrust open, and Isa smiled at her just like when she first let her into her home, then pulled her out and onto the bed.

            Roxane was on her front, but rolled onto her back by the time Isa was upon her. The naked vampire grabbed her by both wrists and slammed them against the mattress above her head. She straddled Roxane’s waist and her smile turned more sinister, hungrier.

            “You know, if you weren’t trying to kill me—“ Roxane was cut off as Isa dipped her head low, going straight for her neck. A sharp pain flooded the area, followed by the warm trickle of blood.

            “Mmmmmm.” Isa sucked hard against her neck, and Roxane squirmed under her body. She felt something odd against her hips: was Isa grinding on her while killing her?!

            Panic shot through her and Roxane struggled, looking for any part of her body that wasn’t pinned down. The room was quickly turning blurry, and she did all she could think to do: she rolled back to her front.

            Isa was toppled onto her back. She let go of Roxane’s neck, and blood spilled all over the bed, all over the pair of them. In the movement, Roxane was able to pull her arms away, and now had one locking Isa’s wrists above her head, and the other around her throat. She was feeling dizzy, and the vampire’s smile and accompanying laughter was pissing her off.

            “My turn. She forced Isa’s head to look up and shot down with her own. Her open mouth collided with Isa’s supple neck, and with what strength she had left, Roxane began sucking.

            “Mmmm, yessss. Keep that up darling.” giggled Isa. I’m going to miss your fire when you pass out and I suck you dry. Even now, she pressed her hips against Roxane’s body. “My neck hasn’t felt so good since I got turned.”

            Roxane bit into her neck, tearing through skin and flesh. Isa screamed in pain, struggling against the human on top of her. She freed her hands and began attacking Roxane with them, trying to tear her off and scratch at her back. But Roxane kept sucking; she pulled back her teeth and sucked the blood out of Isa’s open wound. The vampire squirmed, quickly weakening as the wound took its toll. Then, before Roxane passed out, she went still and cold.

            She spat out what was left of the blood in her mouth, along with a chunk of flesh. It splattered against the floorboards, staining them in blood. Roxane looked at Isa’s still, naked body, and felt herself getting weary. “Fuck you.” She collapsed.

[fictionkinfessions]

I don't want to come across presumptuous or too rude, but I'm a little unnerved when asks get published that are character hate in DIRECT response to another ask? Like, one got published recently where someone responded to another kinfession with, "you're right, you don't deserve forgiveness," and I just wonder if allowing someone to be so harsh directly to the face of a person they don't even know is a great idea? Idk, I mean, chara hate asks are still about one person, but I feel that they're different. They're rarely like, directly about the full person outside of their kintype, if that makes sense. I don't think I'd be allowed to send an ask complaining about my canonmate while literally @ ing them, and replying to an ask feels similar to me?

It feels a bit harsh, and I worry it might make this blog less of a safe space. I know if someone responded to my vent with "yeah, you SHOULD feel bad," it would be at least like a year before I tried venting here again. I know there's no way I can really say this that isn't me sort of telling you how to run your blog? So, I am sorry about that, but after seeing it a few times, I just wanted to bring up my concerns about it.

That's already against the rules.

fictionkinfessions.tumblr.com/rules https://fictionkinfessions.tumblr.com/tagged/rules%20page https://fictionkinfessions.tumblr.com/post/190622484599/blog-rules-page

Listen, it's not possible for me to remember every single post. Sometimes ask responses don't have a link back to the post they're replying to. I do not have context for every conversation here. If a ask response seems out of line, I do apologize for posting it because yeah it's pretty irritating to get something like 'NO U, FUDGING MEANER!' as a reply to it. Please bring it up with links and the reasons why. I'm sorry but there is only so much omnipotence I can give this blog, so to speak.

Connie / mod party cat!

[kelyon]

Dark Mistress Rumple! The last time Belle had to conceal who she really was, the darkness still brewed inside of her, and then she killed everyone. Aren't you the slightest concerned that if she has to conceal who she is, that one day the darkness will come bursting forth yet again?

Well, I'd certainly rather that didn't happen, but being with her is worth the risk. Not to be too presumptuous, I think she's safer from herself here than when she was a lady.

From what I understand, she had to hide her darkness all the time. She wore a mask even while in bed with her husband! I get the idea that no one took her seriously as a person--until they had to take her seriously as a threat, and by then it was too late.

What would that do to a person? To constantly have to conceal her nature? Ladies in castles can be treated like they have no more thought or feeling than dolls. Someone as strong and passionate and intelligent as Belle--it must have driven her mad. Who hasn't been trapped in a situation so intolerable you wanted to run away screaming? On the worst day of her life, she should have been met with sympathy from the man who swore to protect her, but instead her husband accused her of willfully murdering her unborn child.

I probably would have killed him too, were I in such a situation.

All her life, my beautiful Belle had held back her rage and her grief, the way a lady is supposed to. Then she had the power to make her grief felt, all across the countryside. She was under so much pressure, it made her explode.

There is so much I cannot offer her, but I can give Belle the freedom of her own emotions. I can give her sympathy, and compassion. I can forgive her when she falters, as I'm sure she will need to forgive me. I can give her space, take away the pressures, so her inner fires don't get out of control.

They say that love can break any curse. Maybe this is what they mean. I can love Belle so much that the darkness will loosen its grip on her. I can love her so much that she doesn't feel like the Dark One . Maybe we can love each other so much that neither of us is afraid anymore.

[anghraine]

I was thinking about why I find Aragorn so interesting despite having some reservations about him, and one of the things that makes him most compelling to me is, IMO, often overlooked. He has this chameleon-like quality that allows him to adapt rapidly to changing situations and come out the other side, which we particularly see in how he conducts himself with Gondorians vs Rohirrim.

He’s generally very careful not to appear presumptuous when he deals with Gondorians. To go by the internal timelines, this is first seen with Thorongil, when (according to the Appendix) he never conducted himself as anything but the servant of the Steward despite the favour shown him. Then, as readers, we see it in his careful response to Boromir:

“Now you have seen the sword that you have sought, what would you ask? Do you wish for the House of Elendil to return to the Land of Gondor?”

Boromir expresses doubt and Bilbo interrupts with a poem, and then Aragorn delivers another measured response.

“For my part, I forgive your doubt,” he said. "Little do I resemble the figures of Elendil and Isildur as they stand carven in their majesty in the halls of Denethor. I am but the heir of Isildur, not Isildur himself.”

Meanwhile, upon encountering Éomer in Rohan, Aragorn is polite (though not as self-deprecating) as he tries to talk everyone down, then quickly swerves to:

“I am Aragorn son of Arathorn, and am called Elessar, the Elfstone, Dúnadan, the heir of Isildur Elendil’s son of Gondor. Here is the Sword that was Broken and is forged again! Will you aid me or thwart me? Choose swiftly!”

At the doors to Meduseld, Aragorn suggests that Théoden’s decrees shouldn’t even apply to him:

“It is the will of Théoden,” said Háma.

“It is not clear to me that the will of Théoden son of Thengel, even though he be lord of the Mark, should prevail over the will of Aragorn son of Arathorn, Elendil’s heir of Gondor.”

Here, we could see his increasing boldness and assertion of authority as part of his arc—one either of growth or of revealing his underlying character, depending on your perspective, rather than difference of circumstances per se. But, of course, he does eventually get to Gondor, rescue the armies of southern Gondor and lead them to the Pelennor Fields. Afterwards, he says:

“I have come [inside Minas Tirith] because Gandalf begs me to do so,” he said. “But for the present I am but the Captain of the Dúnedain of Arnor; and the Lord of Dol Amroth shall rule the City until Faramir awakes. But it is my counsel that Gandalf should rule us all in the days that follow and in our dealings with the Enemy.”

Even after he’s healed Faramir, the current Steward, and been acknowledged as king by him, and is leading Gondor’s armies to the Black Gate, the heralds are announcing “The Lords of Gondor are come!” with Aragorn’s apparent assent. It’s Imrahil, not Aragorn, who insists on using “The King Elessar” (as a tactical gesture, though he sees Aragorn as functionally king already).

I don’t think his caution with Gondorians vs his brashness with the Rohirrim suggests that either is more authentic to his character. Rather, both are parts of who he is as a person that he’s able to reveal or cloak as suits his circumstances. Additionally, he’s intelligent and incisive enough to identify which presentation of himself will suit the circumstances he’s in and generally adaptable enough to switch to the appropriate one at a moment’s notice.

This could come across as cold and calculating, but for most people, doesn’t—which is a somewhat underappreciated achievement on Tolkien’s side. I think it works in part because these seem like different but genuine aspects of Aragorn rather than pure performance (the Aragorn who brashly challenges Éomer can be seen in the Aragorn who challenges Sauron in the palantír, say), partly because Aragorn’s situation is such that he pretty much has to be able to do this, and partly because we see him in moments where he’s not constantly calibrating his responses/actions to an external situation.

I mean, sometimes he says or does something just because he thinks it’s funny, or because he’s with his friends, or whatever. But for much of the novel, the stakes are so tremendously high that he has to be able to instantly read the situation and react appropriately without hesitation, and I think his ability and willingness to do so 90% of the time is both impressive and really intriguing.

[hannigramficrecs]

Newly Added Fics 5/16

Hello everyone, sorry again for the slight hiatus! I’ve replied to all the messages in my inbox (at least the ones that were sent to me before this past friday), so if you asked me something before that, be sure to check out my replies!

As usual, I’ve emboldened the fics I really liked and italicized the ones that are incomplete.

Looks Like Love by luvkurai [words: 5,987] — (AU)

After his sister's wedding, Will kisses his childhood housekeeper (and first love).

Betrothed by slashyrogue [words: 3,932] — (AU)

In one month he would marry a total stranger.

Titan Arum by ProxyOne [words: 64,614] — (AU)

Will is a botanist, working in the greenhouse of the local Botanical Gardens. He is getting his life back on track after his divorce, but he can't help but notice someone who keeps coming back to his greenhouse to draw, day after day. A man who seems to have been paying very close attention to him...

Find Me In The Dark by Rising_Phoenix [words: 40,131] — (AU)

After a fateful accident, the marriage of Will Graham and Hannibal Lecter has reached its end. Grief and the inability to stop them from falling apart has brought an irreconcilable distance between the formerly deeply devoted couple. While Hannibal is apathetic towards his husband, ignores him, and is withdrawn, Will has started an affair with fellow teacher Francis and drowns his desperation in more and more alcohol. 

Light of All Lights by whiskeyandspite [words: 20,377] — (AU)

Dracula-like fic without any of the vampires

The Stage Just For You by CarnivalMirai [words: 6,494] — (AU + Age Gap)

Will has landed himself the role of Odette for world-famous choreographer Hannibal Lecter's rendition of The Swan Lake.

There Will Be Bells by Entropyrose [words: 36,639] — (A/B/O)

In Georgian England, male omegas are very rare diamonds. Baron and Baroness Graham have a plan to build their wealth and social status by offering their son Will's hand in marriage to a mysterious older Duke, an Alpha named Lord Hannibal Lecter. Will's personal feelings need not apply.

Alpha Mart by slashyrogue [words: 63,164] — (A/B/O)

Will needs an alpha. After years of fake knots, half-assed suppressants, and his own damn hand during heats he’s reached the end of his rope. He doesn’t do dating so he decides to waste his life savings and hype with the current trend. Alpha Mart.

Enchanted By Your Name by CarnivalMirai [words: 9,207] — (A/B/O + PWP)

“Now, my husband would prefer it if I got the job done quickly.” He says, slashing down the back of each gag as he passes each man, watching as the silk falls gracefully to the floor. “However, I want to have some fun. Considering you’ve troubled my husband so much… it’s only fair, right?” One of the men whimpered fearfully. Or: The name "Will Graham" is a name you'll only ever hear once.

I've Been Building Black Ships by cloudsarefluffy [words: 8,116] — (A/B/O + AU)

Alpha Hannibal moves to the States with his sister Mischa after being overtly done with the fancy life of a count, and his blind omega neighbor gives him an insight into love that he never quite expected.

A Rare Find by hit_the_books [words: 5,379] — (A/B/O + AU)

Life as an omega bookseller can be quite lonely. However, as the owner of Graham’s Books, Will Graham is reasonably content. That is until he meets—long-time customer and crush—Doctor Hannibal Lecter in person for the first time. Attraction blossoming between them both, Will agrees to a dinner date with the good doctor.

We All Have a Hunger by 1ntothew1ld [words: 12,260] — (A/B/O + Age Gap)

Hannibal will ensure a properly slow and painful death for an alpha who allowed a beautiful young omega to go to waste as this one has. Too skinny for his own good, a stuttering and humble mess. The likes of the omega in front of him belonged at Opera houses and in million-dollar mansions, not scrounging for his next meal. Meek and afraid in some disheveled row house. When he finally looked back up the alpha had to conceal the utter punch to the stomach that meager glance was, blue eyes full of innocence but also hunger.

The Doctor Is In by Kummerspeck7 — (A/B/O + PWP)

Will nearly scoffed. "You can't expect me to believe you'd want anything other than a delicate flower to adorn your side, keep your ostentatious home, bare you the exact number of children you want--No more, no less-- all while being available at your whims." "Not at all." Hannibal disagreed. "I would no more put a wilting flower in my home than in a bouquet given as a gift. Tell me, Will, is that how you are treated? Forbidden from work, cloistered inside and used at Mr Brown's discretion?" "My Alpha's discretion." Hannibal looked pointedly at the curve of Will's neck, free from a single scar. "Not yet he isn't."

Teenage Wildlife by writtenbyizzy [words: 10,163] — (Age Gap + Sugar Daddy)

While reluctantly prowling Grindr for a sugar daddy to pay for his dog Bean's vet bills Will comes across Hannibal, and gets far more than he bargained for.

Just As Poised As I Remember by CarnivalMirai [words: 5,721] — (Age Gap + School)

When Will was in high school he had an incredibly handsome psychology teacher-- tall and sharp with a thick European accent. And now, a decade later, said psychology teacher-turned psychiatrist... just swiped right on him.

We Can Chase the Dark Together by K_R_Closson [words: 16,615] — (Fantasy)

Will tips him and Hannibal off the cliff. Instead of hitting the water, he wakes up in his bed, several years in the past. His first, and only, priority is to find Hannibal again.

We Killed a Dragon Last Night by inameitlater [words: 88,150] — (Fantasy)

Will remembers falling. He wakes up months before Jack got him to work for him. Months before he met Hannibal for the first time. Free from his past he decides to change events and meet Hannibal again.

My Only Constant Is You by TheSilverQueen [words: 25,369] — (Fantasy)

Hannibal Lecter is an immortal who can never die. Will Graham is a time traveler who can never stay in one place. Perhaps that is why they are perfect for each other.

Motinos Kalba by Lyla_Joy [words: 6,040] — (Fluff)

Five times Hannibal Lecter spoke Lithuanian on accident and one time he meant too.

You Make Me Feel (Good) by sourweather [words: 7,190] — (Fluff)

Will Graham has sensory issues. The world gets too loud, he gets overstimulated easily, but most of all he hates being touched. He never expected someone to work so hard to make him comfortable, to be so patient with him.

Pick Me Up by sourweather [words: 6,053] — (Fluff)

Will doesn't go to bars much. He doesn't end up needing a ride home much. But when he does get drunk, he always wants to ask Hannibal to pick him up.

Hard to Get by JSinister32 [words: 5,561] — (Jealousy)

Will and Hannibal had been broken up for six months. When confessions are made during a work function, can they find it within themselves to forgive?

Polar Opposites by Lyla_Joy [words: 19,513] — (Kidnapping)

“Says the cannibalistic serial killer who knocked me out and is now holding me hostage,” sassed Will. The Ripper didn’t smile but his eyes crinkled in the corner. “Please call me Hannibal.”

Fate Is A Keen-Eyed Hound by LydiaFearing [words: 5,890] — (Mischa)

Hannibal may be a successful, charming psychiatrist but Mischa worries that her brother is lonely so she gifts him a puppy. Hannibal reluctantly falls for his little dog but wants to get involved with time-consuming FBI work and not just anyone can be allowed to look after his pet. Luckily, Alana can recommend a boarding kennel in Wolf Trap.

The Significant Other: The Will and Hannibal Edition by house_of_lantis [words: 18,431] — (Murder Husbands)

After their terrible and abrupt break up, Will and Hannibal attempt to maneuver through their social circles, side step ongoing gossip, and deal with the fact that Will knows the truth of Hannibal. Through impossible odds, Will and Hannibal do find their way to each other again.

Dancing with the Beast by proser [words: 86,347] — (Murder Husbands)

In order to catch a mediocre serial killer, Will must pose as Hannibal's date for a series of pretentious social events. Hannibal is dramatic and jealous as ever, and Will is having a great time without the encephalitis. Of course, it's a love story.

Arriving at the Crossroads by HigherMagic [words: 7,558] — (Mpreg)

"You haven't been my psychiatrist for a long time," Will echoes. "But you've been my friend. You've helped me. With…" He gestures vaguely to his head. "When my brain was on fire. On consults. When it's dark and I need a guiding light." "It pleases me very greatly to be a source of comfort and reassurance for you, Will," Hannibal says. "I have wanted to be that for you, for a long time."

The Hanged Man by justhavesex [words: 13,076] — (Mpreg)

Will Graham had never wanted children before, but he had never considered it to be a consequence of his omegan brain not finding anyone worthy, but the moment he had met Hannibal Lecter he had been filled with want. In which a dinner party one-night stand results in a pregnancy that changes Will's entire life.

I Don't Even Like Lana Del Rey by perpetuallycaffeinated [words: 4,328] — (PWP)

The tension and low thrum of arousal were making Will speak impulsively. He knew this, but he’d just finished his drink. There was nothing he could use to stop the question, blunt and presumptuous and rude. “So, what, you’re my daddy?”

A Bad Combination In The Dark by perpetuallycaffeinated [words: 1,957] — (PWP)

When a nerve wracked Will Graham accidentally cuts his hand on Dr. Lecter's letter opener, things quickly get out of control.

The Best Bait by sourweather [words: 3,327] — (PWP)

Will is a good fisherman, he knows which bait to use for his catch. Will seduces Hannibal at a party by being sexy.

Whimsy by justheretoreadhannibalfics [words: 3,001] — (School)

Doctor Hannibal Lecter is standing in as a teacher while Professor Graham is out of town on a case. The students start to kind of like him, and become very invested in his love life.

Callipygian by ProxyOne [words: 2,260] — (Season 1)

Hannibal has a lot of sketches of Will, which he normally keeps safely away. One day though, Will shows up unexpectedly and Hannibal is caught unawares, and unprepared.

L'appel Du Vide by sourweather [words: 5,413] — (Season 1)

Will is hiding things from his coworkers. From himself. But Doctor Lecter knows.

Friends Don't Frame Friends: A Lesson for a Clueless Cannibal by LadyFelixTristis [words: 5,041] — (Season 1)

Ear? What ear? Will Graham doesn’t try to thwart Hannibal Lecter’s plans for him. He just does. By accident. And then on purpose.

For All My Pride, You Were the Fall of Me by nobetterlove [words: 13,212] — (Season 2)

After being released from the BSHCI, Will grabs the dogs he can't live without and leaves without a trace

Letters to God by CarnivalMirai [words: 4,698] — (Season 3+)

Will writes letters to Hannibal every day after his incarceration. But they never make it.

Blankets, Coffee Cups, and Christmas Morning by sourweather [words: 6,352] — (Season 3+)

Hannibal wants to enjoy the domesticity. The love, the closeness, the being Known. But something about his life with Will makes him want to lash out.

All These Fictionary Tales by ProxyOne [words: 18,492] — (Season 3+)

After the fall, Hannibal is presumed dead. Will has been declared dead. But Will isn't willing to believe that Hannibal would just abandon him like that 

Seduction by BloodunderMoonlight [words: 7,086] — (Season 3+)

“For fuck’s sake, Hannibal.” Will glared at him, brimming with wrath he had only seen behind Will’s gun. He had no doubt Will would draw out a knife from beneath the duvet or pillows, but clearly words were enough to make him gobsmacked—“Are you a fucking virgin or monk? If all these can’t get you to bed then I don’t know what can.” Hannibal stood gaping at Will.

Blood, Cedar and Dog Hair by sourweather [words: 3,351] — (Season 3+)

Something terrible happens while Hannibal is in prison. Something he never prepared for.

Hidden Potential by sourweather [words: 20,789] — (Soulmates)

The first time you make eye contact with your soul mate, you see a vision of their greatest accomplishment. They call it your Peak. Unfortunately for Will Graham, his soul mate's Peak is a vision of blood and horror. Fortunately for Hannibal Lecter, his soul mate's is too.

Karoliai by slashyrogue [words: 4,577] — (Sugar Daddy)

Will works at a jewelry store. He has worked there for three months and sold less than any other person there. His boss tells him to sell something by the end of the day or he may not have a job tomorrow. If there was one thing Will hated more than having to talk people into buying jewelry they didn’t need, it was trying to do it two days before Valentine’s Day.

[tetsuwhore]

𝐀𝐫𝐠𝐮𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 (𝐊𝐮𝐫𝐨𝐨, 𝐎𝐢𝐤𝐚𝐰𝐚, 𝐓𝐬𝐮𝐤𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐦𝐚)

Description: Argument headcanons + how the boys react when you get especially upset during a fight

Pairings: Kuroo Tetsurou x Reader, Oikawa Tooru x Reader, Tsukishima Kei x Reader

Warning: arguments, yelling, mentions of insecurities

when it comes to helping people, Kuroo’s method of encouragement can sometimes be a little…  aggressive. his approach is to agitate them, making them question their motivations and regroup their strategy to whatever problem they’re facing

(an example being his comment that irked Tsukishima during the Tokyo training arc)

while Kuroo is good at weaseling out a person’s motivators and insecurities, and then using that information to push them into doing better, he sometimes neglects considering that some people may not respond well to being provoked into action

this could potentially lead to arguments if this approach doesn’t work for you

irritated anger - Kuroo tries to remain calm and keep his voice steady. however, if the argument goes on for too long, he may start to feel like you two are running in circles. this is when he gets frustrated and snappy

when he realizes the extent of just how upset you are by his words, it’s like a wake up call. he never wants to be the reason you’re hurting, and will immediately shift to ‘comforting boyfriend’ mode

“is it okay if i hold you?”

always asks for permission before touching you. he realizes that some people don’t respond well to physical touch when upset, so he’ll understand if you decline his offer

if you accept, he’ll scoop you up and hold you in his arms for as long as you’ll allow him. he’ll whisper sweet nothings in your ear while gently caressing your hair and planting soft kisses on your forehead

putting aside who was at fault in the context of the actual argument, he will still 100% apologize for upsetting you with his words

Oikawa has many, many insecurities that often cloud his mind, and as they built up over time, they led to him developing a persistent feeling of inferiority

like the incident with Kageyama, this can lead to him lashing out at people who have no true fault in the matter. this includes people closest to him, such as his s/o

explosive anger - he’s one to bottle his feelings up and wait until he’s on the brink of mental exhaustion to finally let them out. this means that his frustration bubbles rapidly, and it leads to him becoming quite loud during fights

even if you’re calm, he’ll end up raising his voice because in the heat of the moment, he justifies it as a valid way to get his point across 

if the argument turns sour enough that you start getting upset, it’ll likely take him a minute to process that he needs to cut the shit and regain composure for your sake

but if you cry? this boy will 100% start crying with you

unlike the other two, all thoughts about personal space fly out the window. he’ll immediately pull you into a warm hug and cling to you for hours afterward

when you two go to sleep, his hold on you will be tighter than usual - he needs reassurance that he hasn’t driven you away, and keeping you close does just that

“please, don’t let me push you away. i need you.”

Oikawa’s stubborn streak means that he has a hard time apologizing right away. still, the guilt will eat at him the longer he waits, and eventually, he’ll just suck it up and ask for your forgiveness

because ultimately, his relationship with you will take priority over his pride

of course, with this salt boy, his comments can be a little grating and may lead to small fights if they happen to agitate some of your insecurities

but a common argument that likely to show up is when it comes to you offering him advice or attempting to help him with his problems

Tsukishima appears to be someone who upholds the philosophy that his problems are his own to deal with. therefore, he may not be very appreciative of interference from other people, even if he realizes that it’s coming from a good place

cold anger - he’ll spit out something about how you’re being a tad bit ‘presumptuous’ of his situation and ‘nagging’ him with advice that he didn’t ask for. his voice will be low, but the viciousness behind it can be very hurtful

if you start getting antsy, or worse, teary-eyed, he’ll know it’s time to cool down. Tsukishima won’t forget that he’s still annoyed with you, but he’ll realize that your mental-wellbeing takes priority over winning a petty argument

after fights, he usually prefers keeping a distance for a while so you two have some time to cool off. that way, you’ll be able to hold a more rational discussion about the issue when you guys have had the chance to calm down

but if he knows you’re already very upset, he’ll choose to remain close to you

“i’m not going anywhere. i’m here.”

Tsukishima won’t try to initiate any kind of immediate physical affection. instead, he’ll simply sit next to you, leaving enough space but still reassuring you that he’s there to listen

will quietly allow you to talk about what he said that upset you. he probably won’t apologize, at least not immediately. however, he will make a mental note of what you say and keep it in mind so he can avoid repeats of such incidents

after all has been said, you two will sit together in silence, reveling in the quiet comfort of each other’s presence

[rogueyami]

Haikyuu!! Fic Recs

I love reading fanfics, and I have so many bookmarked that I want to share. Hope you all enjoy and give these writers all the love. All of these are completed works, and they are a mixture of one shots and multi chaps.

Kagehina

where the night goes by bigspoonnoya (M)

Summary:

When their bond loses the immediate context of volleyball, they're left to consider why it's still so vital and important.

Meeting again, by chance, six years later.

Somewhere to Belong by Esselle (E)

Summary:

Once a year, all the villages that follow the way of the sun offer up one of their own to be taken to the sun god's divine temple. Kageyama Tobio, an orphan and loner, never wanted to be chosen—and until the sun god appeared, no one ever wanted to choose him, either. All Tobio wants is to find a place he fits in. What he actually gets is another story entirely.

by this time next year by reeology (T)

Summary:

"I got offers from two universities," Kageyama announces, pointing at his chest with his thumb. "I'm going to play volleyball at Keio this spring."

"You still have to pass an exam, even if it's an easy one," Takeda-sensei hurries to add, although he is beaming and bursting with pride at his fluffy little crow chick taking off to play volleyball at a university level.

"I'll pass," Kageyama says with the same kind of confidence he uses when he tells Hinata he'll get the toss to him. He looks straight at Hinata, and Hinata jerks and turns red, wondering if maybe Kageyama knew he was daydreaming about something as stupid as the way Kageyama talks to him during a game. But then Kageyama just points at him and says, "You'd better get in, too."

Hinata, stupid, naive, idiot that he is, grins wide and nods and says, "Yeah!"

He doesn't know what he's in for.

Not Alone by seconddaysea (E)

Summary:

"I'll visit you," Hinata says. "So you're not allowed to get lonely, you got it?" He turns so they're facing each other, hands warm against Tobio's back. "I'm already lonely," he replies quietly, and he presses his face against Hinata's heart, squeezing his eyes shut, because if this is a dream he doesn't want to wake up.

maps, from me to you by tothemoon (T)

Summary:

This is a (non-chronological) account of the memories they make out of millimeters.

Iwaoi

we can do better than that by spaceburgers (M)

Summary:

Oikawa and Iwaizumi go on a road trip during the summer after their high school graduation. It doesn't go as expected, but maybe that's not such a bad thing after all. 

we shine like diamonds by whiitemists (T)

Summary:

Oikawa is nine when he first hears the word. The boys on the playground whisper it like it's dirty, like the way they daringly mutter the word fuck and then look over their shoulders to check their parents hadn't heard.

"You know Abe-kun from class?" they snicker, hands cupped around their mouths like they're passing along a filthy secret. "I hear his older brother is... gay."

here comes your man by newamsterdam (T)

Summary:

Iwaizumi’s left his cell phone on the bench, and while Suga keeps his gaze away from Iwaizumi the phone lights up with a new message.

Iwa-chan, it reads, Have a good day today! Good luck! <3 <3 <3

Suga chokes. It’s hard to imagine anyone calling the scowling and fierce Doctor Iwaizumi “Iwa-chan.” But marriage probably comes with all sorts of liberties.

Mrs. Iwaizumi must be quite the doting wife, Suga thinks. Delivering hand-made bentos and sending along loving messages.

No one really knows much about the new surgical resident, Doctor Iwaizumi, other than the fact that he's married. Suga's determined to find out more, and make a friend of him in the process.            

just hear me out by loveclouds (T)     

Summary:

To stimulate Japan's low birthrates and take most of the guesswork out of dating, a beeper system was biologically developed in people's wrists, an audible confirmation to show romantic compatibility.

Iwaizumi's beeper has been going off for Oikawa since they've been kids. Oikawa's has only ever been silent.

 Call Security! by DeathBelle  (T)    

Summary:

Oikawa Tooru is attractive, charming, and irresistible.

He thinks so, anyway, until he meets the mall's new security guard.

In which Oikawa has a crush, Iwaizumi has no interest, and a chain of shoplifting incidents brings them together.

Bokuaka

(Don't) Touch Me by DeathBelle (E)         

Summary:

Akaashi has always had an aversion to human contact, but earlier in his life it had been bearable. It isn't until his last year of high school that it becomes intolerable. By the time he enters college, any skin contact has the potential to send him spiraling into a breathtaking panic attack.

He reconnects with Bokuto in college, and he seems to be the only person with the ability to calm Akaashi down. He finds himself relying on his old captain more and more, especially when Bokuto deems himself Akaashi's own personal guardian. Despite their connection, he can't touch Bokuto, either; no matter how badly he'd like to.    

Upstairs by yoogiboobi (E)    

Summary:

Bokuto first sees his neighbour at the supermarket, three days after he's moved into his new place.

[...] 

For about a second, a heartbeat, he's met with a pair of dark, piercing eyes, with what is probably eyeliner, looking back at him. It really is just a split second before his hand knocks down three cereal boxes that hit him square in the head, effectively making him break eye contact and drop his groceries to the floor.

In which some of the first things Bokuto learns about his upstairs neighbour are the colour of his eyes and the sound of his moans.         

bang! now we're even by Authoress (E)

Summary:

Akaashi only has two rules when it comes to his profession. One, complete the job as swiftly and cleanly as possible. Two, never trust anyone who smells like blood.

Rule three is to shoot Owl Eyes in the face should he ever come across him, but Akaashi never tells anyone about that one.

Crisis Converted  by valiantarmor (E)    

Summary:

Akaashi Keiji is just a normal cop with a penchant for getting himself into trouble, when quite suddenly he finds himself with a big promotion and a brand new partner.

But his habit of finding trouble hasn't gone away -- if anything, it's only gotten worse. 

cracks in the pavement will lead you home by deusreks (M)    

Summary:

Bokuto often thinks about Akaashi, especially when he’s running. It’s like his legs know where they’re supposed to take him. He grows into a habit of running a lot, just to keep that feeling going. Cracks and holes in the pavement aren’t fun to jump over if the final reward isn’t seeing Akaashi’s face.

An alternate universe with a little bit of magic and a lot of growing up.         

Ushiten

died in my dreams by MTrash (Makaria) (T)

Summary:

If anyone asked Ushijima how it came to this, he wouldn’t be able to formulate a proper answer.

Ushijima likes his quiet, his order, and his solitude. That is, until a loud, talkative and a little chaotic cyber tech convinces him that that's just plain boring.

while i nodded, nearly napping (suddenly there came a tapping) by pseudoanalytics (T)     

Summary:

Of course if there was one thing that could be counted on, it was Ushijima’s blunt, total honesty. “Do you think Tendou is attracted to me?”

Reon froze. “T-Tendou?”

“Yes.”

Tendou was notoriously hard to read, but Reon kind of figured that he wasn’t the type to be anything less than painfully overt with romantic affections.

“I... I don’t think you have anything to worry about. I think if Tendou was attracted to you, he would let you know,” Reon said. “I'd guess he just considers you his best friend.” He hoped his answer would satisfy whatever frenzy the guy had worked himself into so Reon could finally take advantage of his last precious hours of sleep.

But instead, Ushijima visibly deflated in front of him. “Yes. That’s what I thought too,” he said miserably.

Oh, Reon realized. Oh no...

Executive Excursion by DeathBelle (E)    

Summary:

Tendou is fun, quirky, and interesting.

Ushijima is none of the above.

It's no surprise that Ushijima is drawn to Tendou's magnetic personality. What's surprising is that Tendou seems to like Ushijima, too.

With a little support from his coworkers, Ushijima decides to take a chance and ask Tendou on a date. The results are better than expected.

fascinating facts about geckos by miracleboysatori (T)        

Summary:     

Ushijima Wakatoshi.

That’s the coach’s name. And he’s the new biology teacher on campus, so not only is he incredibly beautiful, he's also smart as hell.

Tendou can tell he’s completely doomed.

Affection, and other Quantifiable Actions by badbavarois (T)   

Summary:

(He's a monster) Ushijima Wakatoshi isn't a monster.            

Misc/ Other ships

but not for spring to well up by tookumade (T)  OsaSuna 

Summary:

After ending a relationship with a fiancé, Suna returns home and tries to heal from heartbreak. Here, he finds friends in the form of the Miya brothers, and learns patience, forgiveness, and what happiness means to him.           

the more things change by deadseasalt (E)  OiKage   

Summary:

“So let me get this straight. You went to the Meiji-Chuo game and saw your old crush and after watching Meiji bring Chuo to a crushing defeat, you realized you were still crushing on him big time?”

Kageyama wishes he could spit in Tsukishima’s drink. “It’s not a crush.”

Tsukishima laughs. “You poor dumb fuck.”

Third Impression by DeathBelle (E) Kuroo x Semi

Summary:

If Semi has a type, Kuroo isn't it.

After their first meeting, Semi concludes that Kuroo is smug, presumptuous, and a little too flirtatious for his own good. Their second encounter doesn't change his mind, and Semi does his best to avoid a third.

Kuroo has other ideas, and Semi finds himself tricked into an impromptu tutoring session with Kuroo himself.

It doesn't go as badly as Semi expects.

Mannequin Men by surveycorpsjean  (E) BokuAkaKuroTsukki

Summary:

The modeling world is full of hungry wolves, constantly clambering over the other, snarling and desperate. They fight, and they kill, trampling over anything in their path.

In this case, Akaashi fell in love with the wolves.

Efflorescence by h_lovely (E) MatsuHana

Summary:

"Are we flirting?"   "Do you want to be?"

[Efflorescence (n.) a state of blooming, flowering, and development.]

[whumpingcrow]

August Plays Nice, Elias POV

I have really bad writers block (again) so that means you all get to witness August in all his demented asshole glory >:) new chapters coming very soon, I promise!

CW: tics/tourettes, creepy/intimate whumper, captivity whump, collar whump, starvation (pretty descriptive), talk of death and character death mention, guns/gun violence (graphic), drugs/alcohol (graphic), noncon/dubcon kissing/touching, emotional whump, injury description, blood, foster care (let me know if I missed anything!)

August wakes me up with his fingers in my hair, twisting and tugging, not quite hard enough to hurt, by far not gentle enough to be comforting. 

Even though the carpet is soft, my shoulder blade is aching from being on the floor for so long. Most nights, August wants me in bed with him, unless he knows my nightmares will keep him up or I’ve upset him somehow. That was the case last night, when he forced me onto my back and told me that if I got up before he let me it would be the last thing I ever did, so it’s where I stayed. He didn’t intend for it to last this long, I don’t think, but at some point late last night I realized August was asleep in the huge queen sized bed across the room and he wasn’t going to come get me and pull me into his arms and smother me to sleep up there, so I forced myself to ignore the drying blood around my nose and eventually passed out, too. 

I hope that he didn’t wake up still angry. I open my eyes but I don’t look up at August, not right away. Instead, I scan the room for any evidence of the fight we’d gotten into the night before. The clock that’s usually hung up on the wall is still face down on the floor, I vaguely remember it crashing to the ground when August tossed me at the wall. I also remember him really losing his shit after, like I’d somehow done it on purpose. Besides that, though, nothing is out of place or otherwise disturbed. I catch myself starting to wonder if it had really been as bad as it’s playing out in my head, I’m not swayed one way or the other, ultimately. If I was exaggerating the cruel smile on August’s face when he had me gasping for air around the shoe he’d planted over my throat, wasn’t I just crying wolf to an empty room? And on the other hand, if August really had shoved me into a corner, put his loaded gun into my mouth, and made me try to beg for his forgiveness around the barrel, then it was obvious that this had all slipped out of my control a long time ago; my only option was to take a backseat and watch it all unfold. 

“Morning, sweetheart.” 

There’s permission embedded in the greeting, so I finally look up at him. I wish I didn’t right away, just like always. It doesn’t matter which mask he’s wearing at the moment, they all hurt to look at now. I used to enjoy some of the faces he would put on for me, especially the one he’s using right now. I used to love it when he would look at me with such fondness, like I was actually making him feel something, like I was enough to thaw him out and make him nice. That was only when I didn’t know he was a liar, when I believed everything he said about No Name getting rid of me. Now I know that it’s a trap, I know that it doesn’t matter which mask he has on because his end goal is always to hurt me and…

…and I’m slowly coming to terms with the fact that I can’t even do anything to stop it. 

“You wanna watch a movie?” Now, he moves from playing with my hair to fiddling with the edge of my leather collar, fingertips grazing against the sensitive skin just underneath before hooking on and giving it an almost unnoticeable tug. I pick up on the queue quickly, I can hear myself whine just a little when I sit up, but I can't bring myself to care. It used to embarrass me when I couldn’t even help making pathetic sounds like that, but I’ve since realized that embarrassment is just as pointless as hope in this place. 

I’m still not sure if he really wants me talking yet, last night he was so angry when I was presumptuous enough to try and answer a question, so I only nod my head at him. That’s all it takes to make him break out in a smile, it’s too hard to decipher whether or not it’s a dangerous one, so I don’t bother trying to figure it out. Then, his hands are wrapping around my arms and he’s pulling me up to my feet. My brain throbs behind my skull, the world around me tilts and spins and I know that leaning against August for support is going to give him the wrong idea but I can’t care about that anymore. I wonder how many concussions I’ve gotten since being here, I wonder if I’ll have brain damage when Camille finally comes back for me, I wonder if I’m stupid for still holding on to the belief that she’ll come back at all. 

August puts me on the couch, I must be behaving well with all this silence and the blood still on my face. When he’s sure I won’t move from my place, he goes into the kitchen, comes back with a bottle of liquor in his hand and a blunt between his lips. It’s only then that I notice his unsteady gait and his lazy smile, and I try to guess how long he’s been up drinking alone.

“Here,” he mumbles as he holds the neatly rolled blunt out toward me, he laughs when I stick it between my teeth, “breakfast of champions, huh?”

He phrases it like a joke, it’s funny to him how fucking hungry I am, I remember now that it’s why I got into trouble last night. I was ungrateful, I snapped at him in a moment of delirious starvation and told him I didn’t want any more pills until I was able to eat. I refuse to make the same mistake this time, instead I force myself to grin like I think it’s funny too, and then lean forward and wait for him to light it up for me. I try really hard not to flinch when he holds the flame that close to my face, I do anyway. He watches me closely afterwards, he isn’t even pretending to hide it as he takes a swig of the liquor, probably tequila, eyes never leaving me. I try really hard to stop my hand from shaking so bad as I reach up to pull away the blunt after a long drag, I fail miserably. August smiles again. 

“Wait here.”

My heart starts racing the second the words leave his mouth. I should have known that it was only a matter of time until he got bored again, I should have known my punishment couldn’t have stopped at a little rough housing and sleeping on the floor, I should have known he couldn’t last ten minutes without fucking me up all over again. The fact that I almost believed anything else really shows how stupid I am. 

I wait for August to come back with his duffle bag, even though the door is right there and I could run, if I wanted. Do I want to, anymore? Do I stay put on the couch, sucking down smoke as if it will make this less painful, because the last time I tried to ditch I got my hand mangled? Or do I stay because I want this, because some sick part of me enjoys the torture and degradation? With every lungful of smoke, the line between the two becomes more and more blurry. I think I almost feel excited when I can hear August’s footsteps coming down the hall. I’m so nauseated by it that I can’t catch my breath. 

I’m shocked, to say the very least, when August turns the corner with nothing more than a washcloth, he doesn’t have his bag or any ropes or even the small razor he sometimes uses when he doesn’t want to waste all his energy. He grins knowingly as he sits down next to me, clumsily setting the bottle down on the tile floor with a solid clink. 

“I don’t feel like doing that today,” he says distractedly, already grabbing my face and wiping at the dried blood before I even have time to prepare, “I just want to watch a movie. I’m hungover as shit.”

It scares me when I realize how well he's able to read me. I haven't said anything since he woke me up, and yet he knows how scared I am, he knows I was expecting him to hurt me again. Does he know I was thinking about trying to run? Does he know that watching his jaw flex as he focuses makes me sick with how much I fucking despise him? He shifts his hand a little to make me tilt my head, and though I don’t resist moving, I flinch. 

“Please!” I hear myself gasp, and we both know that it’s a tic, that it’s so heavily ingrained in me to beg now that it sometimes cycles through with all the other foul things that spill off my tongue. August freezes up and studies me again, eyes narrowed and jaw flexing and I really hope that he doesn’t know how much I fucking hate him right then, he would kill me for sure if he knew.

A smirk spreads across his face, he slips on a new mask so quickly it’s almost natural, almost, and he lets go of my face altogether. “I haven’t done anything yet, you little weirdo.” 

“I…I know.” My face burns in shame, I don’t want to look at him anymore but he keeps smiling at me like he wants to be seen smiling, so I don’t look away. I’ve learned that sometimes all he wants is an audience as he pretends to be human. “I know, I’m sorry.” I offer up the blunt to him, mostly as an attempted reprimand, and he laughs at me. 

With a shake of his head, he chuckles out, “I don’t want that, that’s yours.”

“Mine?” I finally look away to inspect the weed, trying to figure out if he put something else in it, if he’s setting me up for yet another mind shattering high so that he doesn’t seem so bad by comparison.

“Yeah, Bunny,” he drops his voice low and leans in closer, his fingertips gliding against my throat until they latch onto the collar in the back, "all yours." 

I suck in a breath as he closes the space between us to press a kiss into my cheek. Just when I think the false kindness will stop there, he undoes the clasp of the collar and slides it off of me, and I'm so beside myself that I forget I hate him so bad and I lean into him completely. I know what he’s probably thinking of me as I drop my head to his shoulder and press myself close, but I can’t bring myself to care. Not when his breath carries over the sensitive skin of my neck in cooling waves, not when I’m trying to latch onto the brief, sacred moment of feeling almost like a person again. My breathing comes a little easier, despite the very real threat of August being so close still, and despite the sharp sound of the metal tag hitting the ground when he drops the collar to the floor. 

He lets me stay close to him like that for only a minute, occasionally petting through my hair or caressing my arm, and then he pushes me away from him. I blink furiously until my vision isn’t clouded over with tears anymore.

“I must’ve scared you pretty bad last night, huh?” August asks offhandedly as he finds the remote and starts flicking through a long list of movies.

I press the blunt back to my lips, deciding that pissing off August by letting his drugs go to waste would be far worse than whatever might be laced into the burning flower this time. I also do it so I can think about something in my mouth besides the metallic taste of a weapon that I know for a fact has killed before. “Um…” I whisper, allowing the pungent smoke to fall out around my words, “ye…yes, kind of.” 

August chuckles, leaning back against the cushions and pulling me with him, forcing me to settle under his arm. “Kind of?”

“You alw-shit- always scare me.” I admit. I must be higher than I thought, saying bullshit like that to him. “But…but last night, you…yeah, you scared me.” 

“I can tell,” he teases, “you’re never this nice for me.” He uses the hand that isn’t slung over my shoulders to grab one of my legs, pulling at it to drape over his lap. I try my best to breathe through the aching that lights up in my muscles at the movement, then I have to bite back a groan when he starts tracing over the numerous bruises. I don’t complain though, this is so much nicer than what he could be doing. Besides, I have my collar off, and I’m stoned enough that the pain is sort of fuzzy anyway. 

“If I’d known playing with guns makes you so precious I would’ve done it much sooner.”

My breathing hitches, I can’t even help but squirm anxiously in his grip. His voice is slightly sarcastic, but it’s impossible to discern how serious he’s being. There have been times where I think he’s joking just to scare me and end up being horribly wrong. My mind goes back to the night before, I remember the metal clicking against my teeth as August shook in his fury, I remember being mortified thinking that he might shoot me by accident, I remember how he pulled back the hammer when I didn’t start begging for him right away. The idea that something like that could become a regular occurrence makes a hopeless sob catch in my throat before I can stop myself. 

“Oh, would you relax?” He huffs out, his hand is sliding higher up my thigh inch by agonizing inch, pausing over a few cuts and bruises here and there to feel them out with the tips of his fingers. I watch with huge tears hanging off my bottom lashes, I know they’ll fall if I move so I stay as still as possible, and force myself through another drag on the blunt. “I told you I’m too hungover to fuck with you today. You’ve got nothing to worry about.” 

I’m silent still, trying now to focus on the movie to stop the tears from coming. I’ve seen this one before, way back when I was in the only group home I’d actually enjoyed. I can’t remember the plot or the ending for the life of me, but I remember the buttery popcorn and the people I was with feeling as close to a family as I could get. That feels like a lifetime ago, now, and I wonder if those people I liked enough to see a movie with would even recognize me anymore.

I don’t notice August turn to look at me, and it’s only when I realize his eyes are on me that I feel the tears sliding down my cheeks. “Fuck,” I breathe, lifting my hand to try my best to wipe them away, “I’m sorry, I-I’m sorry…”

“God, baby, you are all sorts of fucked up this morning, aren’t you?” 

“I’m sorry, August-”

“Shhh,” he lets go of my leg to grab at my face instead, cupping my cheek gently (it’s so unnerving when he’s able to do that) and pulling me forward until our faces are close and I can practically taste the alcohol on his breath, “I know, Bunny. I know you’re sorry.”

I try to even out my breathing as much as I can, will the tears to stop, and go back to being quiet so I can get all of his attention off of me. August’s eyebrows twitch into a frown and he shakes his head at me. Suddenly his fingertips are digging into my face, I flinch in his grip but he would never let my pull away like this. 

“Don’t stop.” He whispers to me. “You’re so fucking pretty like that, all teary eyed and shit. Come on, cry for me, angel.”

Usually, I would be disgusted by this type of demand, usually I would fight him until he made me cry, just to spite him. But today he’s hungover, today he’s told me that I’ve got nothing to worry about, today he’s touching me in the nicest way he has in a long time, and today he’s giving me permission, no, he’s requesting that I cry, so I do. Right in the palm of his hand, I unravel completely and I cry. I cry because I almost died again last night, I cry because I want to stop almost dying, I cry because I wish I would have stayed dead the first time, I cry because I miss No Name, I cry because I don’t know if he misses me, I cry because I wish I didn’t always feel like crying, I cry because it feels nice to have someone look me right in the eyes while I pour out my damaged soul, I cry because it’s August. He’s not grabbing onto me so hard anymore, he wipes my tears away for me, once or twice he actually leans close and kisses them right off of my face, and I can’t think of a single thing that sums him up better than that simple gesture.

Soon enough, my meager sobbing dies out and I’m just sniffling and shaking against his hand. He brushes away the remaining tears and smiles just a little, there’s a hint of intrigue behind his eyes. 

“Do you feel better now?”

I don’t. 

“Y-yeah. Thank you.”

August answers by pulling me into a deep kiss, uncharacteristically tender, with a surprising lack of teeth and bruising pressure. It’s moments like these that make me almost miss our time together in LA, when I was able to occasionally enjoy this incredibly soft version of August. Knowing that he’s a liar taints it now; him kissing me so gently isn’t going to matter later when he’s ripping me to shreds and getting off on my blood. Surprisingly, August doesn’t even press any further than the kiss. He just…decides he’s done at some point, pulls off of me completely and leans over to grab his liquor again. There’s a satisfied grin on his face as he takes a swig. He's looking at the movie now, like he doesn’t even want to see me anymore. I hate that my feelings are hurt. When I look down, I notice the ash of the forgotten blunt has fallen onto my thigh, but I don’t do anything about it. 

I get about halfway through the movie without realizing how shitty I feel, the hunger is past the point of hunger, it’s now paralyzing nausea, a gnawing at my muscles that makes me dizzy from the pain. I almost want to say something to August when I feel my heart in my throat and I suddenly don’t even have the energy to lift the weed back up to my lips, can’t even keep my eyes open anymore. I stop myself when I remember him threatening to make me eat bullets, since I was so hungry. The burning pain gets so bad that, once again, I think I might really die. I find the idea of starving to death, considering everything else that’s happened to me here, very amusing, and I hear myself let out a breathless giggle, and then-

August wakes me up with fingers in my hair, twisting into tight fists and using it as leverage to throw me onto the floor. 

[viveaux]

airport journal excerpt — april 28, 2022

i’ve been slipping, but i know what to do. better than anyone, i know what to do. i come from a long line of defiant women, i can’t believe i’ve forgotten my power. i’m not sure why life makes me feel so small sometimes. i’m exhausted, from questioning my every move as if judgment awaits me. my grandmother is gone from this world, but i’m still here; still trying, carrying her spirit forward, moving toward a dream only i can see. maybe it’s presumptuous of me, but all i can bring myself to focus on is a wish from her for my happiness. maybe it’s far from her only desire, but it’s the only one i have any say in.

coming home has become a checkpoint of sorts. last time i boarded a flight to new york, i was spilling over with rage. i returned then to a home in name only, an empty room that felt strange to wake up in. i packed the shambles of our life and love into boxes and left seeing red. i climbed the blank walls of my own worst nightmares to stare loss in the face. i’m still working on being less angry. i understand on some level higher than my ego that it wasn’t his fault, that i don’t get to decide or define what his best is. i know that i will be thankful to him one day, for showing me what it looks like to live with purpose. maybe someday soon i’ll be able to forgive that his purpose didn’t include me. it seems forgivable when i put it that way.

i start to worry because i have no idea what role he will play in my life moving forward, but maybe it’s okay to not know. i have faith in myself and in the work i’ve done. there’s no one i trust more, with my life in hands. i may not know him anymore, but i know who i am now. i had to lose everything to see it for myself—that my greatest joys in life could still be found on a path that led away from him. i feel like i’ve been wandering in the dark for ages, though it’s only been a season. this winter, i fell to ashes along with the world around me, all skeletal branches and empty streets. i think i hated everyone for a while, myself most of all. i cursed my inner child for her naïveté all the while pulling her close, desperate to both hide and protect the parts of me he couldn’t bring himself to love. i apologized over and over, for what and to whom, i eventually forgot. even as i grieved all that was taken from me, i saw what was left, and knew it was enough to start over.

the woman sitting across from me at my gate is crying, and it makes me want to cry too. maybe there’s just something about seeing the world from thirty thousand feet that knocks your perspective loose, and suddenly your grudges feel like burdens rather than armor. i always look back at my own journey through such tired eyes, but hasn’t it been beautiful? hasn’t it been beyond anything i could’ve imagined, my wildest dreams? everything makes me cry, but these days, i’m finding myself thankful that i can continue to be so moved, that i can love deeply enough to shed tears for loss. love is for the brave. i am here, i’m here, standing in the blinding sun, i’m here in the cold grips of uncertainty. i am here and i’m ready.

[clumsyclifford]

OPENING LINES GAME!

hey guys i saw this tag game and i thought it looked cool so i’m stealing it and starting it in this corner of tumblr :)

Rules: List the first lines of your last 20 stories. (If you have less than 20, just list them all!) See if there are any patterns. Choose your favorite opening line. Tag some people to play the next round!

soooo........here we go, in backwards chronological order:

1. you’re my whole house

Petunia is whining when Calum gets home.

2. crack a smile, stay a while (am i holding for applause?)

Frankly, hosting an open mic in the Student Theatre is a little presumptuous, if Calum’s honest.

3. cut through the static

It starts, as all the greatest modern love stories do, with a DM.

4. no road home

Yellow lines race past.

5. talking shit is cheap (and we talk a lot of it)

“Okay I need you to answer without thinking about it, just say whatever your gut tells you is right,” Michael says as he opens the door.

6. it’s a real do-nothing day

For the first thirty seconds of Niall’s day, everything is wonderful.

7. i’ve been wishing i could breathe underwater

Everything is fine until they get in the water.

8. something to prove (nothing to lose)

There are different degrees of tour bus boredom, but Harry is quite sure playing board games is the highest degree.

9. rebuild, restart (right where we are)

It's taped to the frame of his desktop when he sits down.

10. make the same mistakes ‘til the morning breaks

Calum’s a little drunk.

11. i got a radar for trouble (and you’re a renegade)

For someone who spends so much time hiding in shadows, Jack is unusually wary of them.

12. a change of heart and a silver lining

Calum might be the sole financial benefactor of Bake Station.

13. route our way on maps of stars

Jack is never going to forgive Alex for kissing both Peyton and Baz before his own fucking boyfriend.

14. you seem so damn familiar (technically, this is only this high up in my recent works because i kept updating it, so in fairness i’m going to use the opening line of the last chapter for this one)

According to Jack’s sticky notes, today is January 13th, and Alex is finally in the home stretch.

15. situation overload (do it for baltimore)

“Just go, dude.”

16. i don’t want you to hurt your heart (it can’t be healed by shooting stars)

There's a glow through the tent wall.

17. friends, lovers, or nothing (we’ll never be the in-between)

(22:48) Alex: hey

18. our best years are yet to come (thanks for choosing me)

“We’re not marrying him, Calum,” says Michael, who obviously doesn’t get it.

19. you are my glitter and my gloom (i am so numb without you)

No one can find Alex.

20. we can be pirates

Turns out it’s not the best idea in the world to give a plastic sword to a seven-year-old girl.

-

the last one lmaoooo i’m glad there’s at least a fair amount of variety among these! across all dimensions! i think “we’re not marrying him, calum” is definitely up there for the best of these. also i clearly enjoy making blanket “everything” statements with my opening lines (the very first line of yssdf is “everything hurts” as well) so that’s something to know i guess, lol. 

anyway! this was fun i’m gonna tag a bunch of writer friends now @kaleidoscopeminds @reveriesofawriter @burstingsunrise @cringeycal @igarbagecannoteven @tirednotflirting @allsassnoclass @ashtcnirwin @lifewasradical and hey @calumsclifford if you happen to drop by tumblr and see this you might have fun with this one!! okay love you guys goodbye again