#i think i feel better like this go be honest with you. the connections feel stronger and i feel closer to the friends ive made

[postracehair]

a small request

max verstappen x reader | 2k

even world champions deserve love letters. after missing the mexico gp, you're determined to see max have a good weekend in brazil. maybe all it takes is a handwritten note.

cw: fem!reader, being in love, softness, a track-side kiss, love letters. and google translate, sorry to any dutch speakers.

a/n: was this inspired by that video from austin? yeah, it was! sue me! also, written/posted before the gp, so. no race details <3 xx

__

You miss race weekend in Mexico. It happens. You can't be there every weekend, much as you'd like to be. You're even more peeved about it after, considering you quite like Carlos and wish you had seen him earn what very well might be his last win with Ferrari. But you're mostly upset because Max, though he won't say so, could probably have used your support.

Years of experience have him calm, cool, and collected despite the team troubles. Flippant, some headlines say. Mad Max, others. But you know he's probably just tired. Tired of the media, of the FIA, of the churning conflict between him and Lando -- something you all knew was coming someday, but maybe not so suddenly. The longest season ever continues to drag and drag and drag.

"Twenty seconds was...Christ, Max," you say. You know what happened, of course. You watched what you could, saw the sharp moves around the corner and heard the radios. It never gets easier, watching him take risks like that. Usually, everyone else backs off, but McLaren can see victory on the horizon and won't let it go. You can't blame them, either of them, you just wish it was all a bit less tense.

"I know," he says, voice raspy over the connection. "I -- well, you know how I feel about it. Don't want to say anything in case the FIA is tapping my phone."

You laugh into your hand so you don't disturb the other people in the airline lounge, not entirely used to places like this, still. Max has told you over and over that it's absurd for you to spend your own money when you're coming to see him all over the world. When you told him you moved things around so you could come to Brazil, he booked you the nicest ticket, per usual.

"Oh, ha, ha," you say. "Don't give them any ideas, Mr. Community Service." You sigh. "Do you need anything? Be honest."

"Aren't you at the airport already? Your flight should be leaving in --" A pause, like he's checking his watch -- "forty minutes."

You glance up at the departures screen. He's right, but you don't give it to him so easily. "Know my schedule, do you?"

"Well, I booked your ticket, so I should think so."

"Your assistant booked it, you mean."

He hums and you picture him in his hotel room, maybe at the window, looking over the city. "I know your flight information. Don't be silly."

"I mean it, Max," you say again. "Is there anything I can do to make the weekend better?" It's a bit of a useless question and you expect him to answer with a snarky get me a new car or apply for the position of steward.

But he doesn't. He clears his throat.

"I'm just glad you're coming," he says, softly. "I've missed you."

You never doubt how Max feels about you, but he must be pretty tired to admit it like this. He's all about actions, this man. Making sure you have what you need when you're at the track, arranging your travel, remembering your schedule. He shows you how much you matter, and that's more than enough. He never wants to make you feel bad for having a life beyond being his girlfriend. And this doesn't, not really. It just makes you ache, fills your chest with the hopeless affection you've felt for him for so long.

"I've missed you, too," you reply. "But I'd like to be useful."

"Oh, I can think of a few things, then," Max says, all of a sudden all cheek. Such a boy, sometimes. A boy in love.

You can't help but laugh, face hot. "Hush, you!"

He huffs. A few beats of silence, the comfortable, well-worn kind. Sometimes, when he's halfway across the world and up late on the sim, he'll call you just to hear you breathe.

"Max?"

"I -- do you remember what you did for my birthday?"

He'd wanted something small, quiet. There was a lot of work to be done with the team but three weekends off meant you had a little time to yourselves. A few days hardly leaving his place, a dinner with some of the guys, a cake you made yourself, hand-delivered in bed. Gifts for a very wealthy man are difficult, especially since Max doesn't seem to want much.

"Oh, the pillow with my face on it?"

Max laughs. The lounge loudspeaker announces that your flight is going to board soon, so you gather your things but keep your phone wedged next to your ear.

"No, the other thing," he says. He clears his throat and summons some of that World Champion courage. "The letter."

You'd written him a fairly long love letter, thinking it would be a nice thing to carry to the races you couldn't be at this fall. It was tempting to be embarrassed about it when you gave it to him the morning of his birthday, but his cheeks had gone pink and he'd buried his face in your neck.

"Oh, that," you say. The airport is busier outside the lounge and you push your case in the direction of your gate weaving between. people.

"You could write me another, maybe."

Max is direct. He is honest, at work and at home, but this surprises you a little.

"You do know I'm about to get on a plane to see you, right?"

He huffs, and you imagine his cheeks pink, eyes bright. "You asked!"

"I'll write you another love letter, Max Verstappen," you assure him. "I'll write you a hundred."

"One is a fine start," he says firmly. "You should be boarding soon, and I've got to go to the press conference. Text me when you've landed?"

"Of course," you reply, eyes rolling though he can't see. "I'll see you soon, okay? Love you."

"Love you, liefje."

On the plane, you tear out some pages from your journal. You'd prefer to have some nice stationery like what you wrote on for his birthday, but maybe this is more romantic, more real. Making do with that you've got because he asked.

In the last one, you told him your memories of when you first met. How your stomach swooped when you made him laugh, how his blue eyes wouldn't leave your dreams. In this one you tell him about when you first realized you loved him. How absurdly early you were sure, how badly you wanted to tell him for weeks. The way you remember every second of when you blurted it out -- his face, his smile. His voice in your ear, telling you over and over, geliefde, ik houd van je, zo veel. I love you, so much.

"You're working hard on that," someone says. You look up at your seatmate, a woman a few decades older than you with a heavy accent.

You feel a little like you've been caught doing something illicit, but you just smile at her. "For my boyfriend," you tell her. "A love letter."

She flattens her palm over heart and sighs. "How lovely," she coos. "I hope he takes care of you, too."

We take care of each other, you want to say. You could tell her about how he sends you postcards from every country he goes to after you told him you like to put them on your fridge. You could tell her how sometimes you text him during his streams to make him laugh on camera. How he remembers your favorites, how he saves you his special team gear, how he sends you flowers all the time. How he likes to sit on the couch, your toes under his thigh, fingers around your ankle. How you've been learning Dutch and how he patiently corrects your pronunciation. You could go on and on and on.

"He does," you say instead.

__

The plane lands safely in Brazil, but the pilot tells you that there is no open gate and that you'll be sitting for a while. You text Max.

stuck on tarmac, will be later than expected! :(

He must be in media responsibilities still because he doesn't reply until you finally get off the plane.

go relax at the hotel. i'll see you for dinner!

You find your ride easy enough and take a deep breath. The letter you wrote on the plane feels heavy in your pocket, and you just want to see Max. To be near him again. To give him this small thing he asked for.

"Excuse me," you say to the driver. "Do you think we could go to the track, instead?"

You text Max's assistant to say you're headed there, hoping it's not too much of an inconvenience. You're told he's almost done, maybe an hour left, and when you arrive you're led to his driver rooms. His shit is everywhere, per usual. Max is quite neat except in here -- Carmen once told you that George is the same. Clothes strewn about, his race boots unlaced and left in the way, warm-up equipment in a pile. On the table are a few of his things -- his wallet, a notebook, some papers.

Wait a second. One of those papers looks...familiar. It's been folded in three, the envelope it came in nowhere to be seen. His name is scrawled on the blank side in your hand and when you tug it from the pile you can see that it's creased, the edges a little more worn than when you gave it to him a few months ago. Max Verstappen, three-time World Champion, actually carries around the love letter you wrote him. Brings it to the track. It's darling. You love him so much. You pull the new one from your pocket and set them side-by-side on the table where he'll find them.

You ask to be taken to the pit wall, please, so you can see whatever the drivers are doing on track. Some dedication, you're told. The timing ends up being perfect and you get there just as they're finishing. You lean on a gap in the barrier where, on Sunday, crew members will be holding timing signs as the drivers zip around the hot pavement. The crowd in the stands is loud, as always, and maybe you imagine it but it seems to get a little louder when you look out.

The guys are talking amongst themselves and a few of them wave at you. You spot Max as he turns away from Charles and you can't help but grin. His eyes meet yours under his cap and his entire face chances, softens, and he breaks into a jog. You lean out over the concrete ledge and meet him in a kiss that's more two smiles pressed together than anything else.

"This is a surprise," he says when he pulls away. Eyes sparkling, he shows no signs of rejoining the other drivers as they head to whatever their next thing is. Photos, probably.

"I missed you," you tell him. "I've left you something in your room."

"Oh?" He straightens the lanyard of your credentials with careful fingers.

You reach for him, palm on his cheek. His stubble tickles and he leans into it ever so slightly. It doesn't feel like there are thousands of eyes on you, not even a little.

"Yeah," you say. "As promised." Someone calls his name. "Go on, then. I'll be waiting."

He kisses you again, a quick brush of his lips on the corner of your mouth.

Later, you'll wake from your nap in the hotel room to those same kisses on your cheeks, your forehead. Max will gather you in his arms and tell you all the moments he almost told you he loved you, how he could hardly believe when you said it first. You'll tease him for how many times he's read that first letter and he'll cheekily say that's why he needs more. And you will write him more, you'll write him as many as he wants. As many as you can, for the rest of your lives.

But now, in front of thousands of screaming fans, he smiles at only you, boyish and pleased.

[prettyoddfever]

Hey, sorry if you've already done a post on this but do we know why Ryan ross stopped wearing stage makeup /makeup in general? I haven't seen any pics of him during pretty odd with any makeup on xx

Ryan only wore stage makeup from June – December 2006. It was just a short phase and then he was totally over it.

The Pretty. Odd. era started in 2008. Ryan and Jon talked a lot that year about how they wanted to make music that was more “honest” and authentic. At that point they viewed all of the Fever-era performers, costumes, makeup, and elaborate sets as “distractions” that weren’t necessary if the music was good enough to speak for itself. There were times that year when Ryan would almost look down on the Fever-era’s dramatic stage shows in a condescending way, as though those things were totally beneath him now. He certainly wanted to distance himself from all of that. He also made comments like “I think we’d be silly if we were wearing the circus outfits again. I don’t even know how we got on that kick.” He also told Cosmogirl in spring 2008 that “I think we’re playing a lot better than we used to... I guess you could say we’re more about sounding good than looking good.” Even his comments that weren’t dismissive of the Fever era still made it sound like the previous version of the band was inferior.

I loved that Ryan had found a direction he was happier with! But he didn’t seem to care that a lot of us were kind of hurt over how he was treating the Fever era. He had moved on. Ryan was more focused on establishing & defending the new version of the band in 2008 (and making it clear that fans didn’t own P!ATD; the band members controlled it and could take it in whatever direction they wanted). A lot of us were definitely interested in the new era, but we were loyal to the old familiar one. I wanted to be able to like both, but many of Ryan’s comments sometimes made me feel silly for ever thinking the Fever era was cool. 

Ryan changed so much every year. He also seemed to like to shake things up and make changes to the band so he could feel a stronger sense of ownership & control in something that was more authentic to who he was at each point. Like we had seen many other times, Ryan wasn’t interested in doing something for approval and he didn’t care what other people thought (which could be a strength). He was just going to move ahead with what he liked. Ryan told NME in 2008 that “Fever was a moment in time and it’s not who we are anymore.” Basically, his interests & focus had changed by 2007 and he wasn’t interested in looking back. Here’s something Ryan told Alt Press in 2010 when they asked him if he regretted any decisions from his years in P!ATD:

“At the time, I wouldn’t have changed anything, whether it be the weird makeup or whatever. Now would I do that? No. But at the time, that’s what I felt like I should do, so I did.”

I’ve seen some people these days make comments about how they wish the modern P!ATD had the Fever-era makeup/aesthetic and that its absence is somehow connected to Ryan’s absence? I have no idea how that conclusion works. Any hint of theatricality that the band had after the split was because Ryan was no longer there. Take a Vacation by TYV is basically what Ryan & Jon had in mind in 2008 for PATD’s third album... and that’s a far cry from AFYCSO. 

Basically, people change as they grow up nbd.

update: I love this person’s tags so much…

[iwritenarrativesandstuff]

on my quest to find more books to read this year, there's been something kind of heartwarming to see that of the books on hold at my local library, or on the weekly bestseller's list at my local bookstores, there's always at least one book up there that's about Palestine. It's at least nice to see that some people in my area want to learn about the historical context of what's happening now, and learn far more than what a few posts on their feed can tell them. It makes me hope that public perception will continue to change for the better - and that the kind of support I've seen in my area won't die down immediately after a ceasefire is called

[shopcat]

also by that definition this site itself is "media consumption" which creates a funny world where you're mad ppl do media consumption on the media consumption site that is itself media consumption by your own words. Okayyyy

[sludgeguzzler]

man. i changed so much these past years

[cursed-spirit-manipulation]

thinking Abt Suguru autism and struggling bc I have forgotten 1. Everything Suguru has ever done 2. Every symptom of autism ever and then I remembered Suguru fucking. Knows every curse he's swallowed. And it's like y'know what maybe I don't have to make an airtight case for this

[kathaynesart]

Oops.

You can see the moment Leo’s heart breaks…

BEGINNING || PREVIOUS || NEXT MASTER POST

AFTERMATH (extra reading material)

Hope you enjoyed this little Replica Intermission flashback as we head into the Holiday Special that happens a few years after this. To be honest, this was as much of a peek into the earlier years of the Central Park Colony as it was a character study. I really wanted to get a handle on how these boys were in their early-mid twenties before diving into the special because they become very different people by their thirties.

TED Talk below on the details of this scene...

I really grappled with the concept of how long it would take for the boys to figure out that the statue was the key. Most interpretations seem to assume they figure it out right away, but honestly, without CJ there to warn them in advance and tell them what it looks like they don't have a lot to go off of aside from Splinter's vague mention of a key. The fact that the Krang were praised by the Foot is enough to set off Donnie's alarms but... with the Foot already gone by the time the Krang make their grand appearance on Metro Tower, the connection can only be hypothesized.

Honestly, I think Donnie would still go to Raph first, a breach in conduct but given the sensitivity of the subject and fear of accusing Leo it seems on brand. Raph ultimately would make the choice not to tell Leo until they knew for certain... which they never did. So it was put off longer and longer until it finally came back to bite them all at the worst possible time. If the colony finds out what Leo did... it could be disastrous. At the same time, Leo's trust in his brothers has been shaken, though it still pales in comparison to the fresh, crushing blow in knowing that it was all his fault. ...Don't worry, he'll be feeling a bit better by the time of the Holiday Special.

[stuckinapril]

23 things I learned in 2023:

Breaking promises to yourself is essentially telling yourself you’re not worthy of commitment or effort.

Listen to people when they tell you who they are.

People put their best foot forward when they first meet you. If they’re already being shitty, it’s likely only going downhill from here.

Self-care isn’t always indulging instant gratification and not doing hard things. I was actually at my most fulfilled when I did hard things DESPITE not feeling like it.

If you’re clinging to other people for fulfillment or validation, you probably don’t like yourself very much.

It’s never the end of the world like we think it is.

If someone wants to walk out of your life, let them. Never be in the business of changing people, even when it comes to changing how they think about you.

Brutally honest communication is everything, but that can also coincide with tactful kindness. Neither is mutually exclusive.

Having a routine makes a massive difference.

Comparison is pointless. No one else has been dealt the same cards you’ve been dealt.

Envy is a waste of time. Instead of being envious of other people, view them as proof of concept.

Self-accountability is important. We are fallible and it’s okay to make mistakes; we just need to own up to them.

Every failure is an opportunity for growth.

Every severed friendship, failed opportunity, lost connection etc etc leaves space for better things to replace it.

We are not tethered to people’s image of us. We are free to change ourselves whenever we please.

It’s not other people’s way, but it’s my way—and that’s all that matters.

Someone denying you love does not erase you.

Piggybacking off the last point—someone not acknowledging the virtues you have doesn’t mean that you don’t have those virtues.

All that really matters are the opinions of the handful of people who truly love you, as well as your opinion of yourself.

Waiting at least 15 minutes before reacting to something. Never trust yourself during the moments when something just hits (learned this the hard way).

Situations are complex and almost never a one size fits all. Asking for advice is okay, but take it with a grain of salt/ultimately follow your own judgment.

Social media isn’t the devil, but scrolling endlessly is. Make an intentional effort to supplant screen time with books and hobbies and friends and tangible, real life things.

We all die one day. None of this is that deep and none of this really matters. Stop taking things so seriously and just enjoy the process 🤍

[sturniqlo]

You're You- C.S

summary: after finding out that they're both twenty year old virgins, both bff!chris and bff!y/n decide to take each others virginity.

cw: cursing, SMUT; unprotected p in v, pull out method, oral!f&m!receiving, making out

an: thank you to this anon and @monroesturnns for the idea

masterlist | join my taglist

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

"Chris! Shh, I can't hear the movie." Y/n puts her hand over Chris' mouth who just can't stop talking. Chris' voice turns muffled and he licks her hand making her pulls her hand away. "You animal!" She gasps, wiping her hand against his shirt.

"You were asking for it, putting your hand over my mouth like that." He pinches her side lightly. "Well you don't ever shut the fuck up while a movie is clearly playing." Y/n points her hand to the movie. "Okay, okay. I'll shut my mouth for the rest of the movie." Chris holds his hands up in surrender. "Thank you, Chris. Now hand me the remote, I missed some parts."

"That's his first time? Doesn't seem like it." Chris says through a mouthful of M&M's, referring to the sex scene that is currently playing. Y/n only giggles, stealing a few pieces of chocolate from Chris' hand. "You never told me about your first time now that I think about it. We've been friends all these years and you never told me." Chris turns to look at her and she feels her face turn hot.

"W-what?" She stutters. "Your first time? How'd it go?" He shrugs as if this is something people talking about in a normal conversation. "I- I haven't- you know." She mutters but Chris couldn't quite hear her. "What was that?" Y/n covers her face. "I haven't had sex yet!" She says, peeking through her fingers to look at his reaction. Although it was totally okay to be a virgin, she still felt a bit embarrassed about it.

"Y/n-" He starts. "I know! I know! I'm almost twenty one and haven't been fucked yet, laugh all you want." She looks at him, dropping her hands in her lap. "Hey, 'm not gonna laugh. Since we're being honest here, I still haven't fucked anyone either or gotten my dick sucked." Y/n furrowed her eyebrows. "You're just saying that to make me feel better." She looks back at the movie, the two main characters were still going at it.

"I'm not, I'm being serious, I'm still a virgin." He grabs her chin so she can look at him. "Really? I mean how? You're- you're you!" She says finally meeting his eyes. "I could say the same thing about you." He leans in closer to her, their lips inches apart. "Are we really doing this?" She whispers. "Only if you want to." He brings her closer.

"Yes, I want this." She nods, moving her face closer to finally connect their lips. Their lips mold together perfectly. Chris holds the bottom of her jaw and nudges her face up so he can get better access. Y/n gasps and Chris takes the opportunity to stick his tongue in. She can taste the faintness of the M&M's they had both eaten a few minutes earlier. "Get on my lap." He pulls away gasping for air.

Y/n giggles, she can't believe this is happening right now. "Should I take this off?" She tugs on the hem of her shirt as she gets situated on his lap. "Please do. Wanna see you." He runs his hands up her thighs. Y/n places one last kiss on his jaw before removing her shirt, her bare breasts now exposed to Chris.

"Look at you." He moves his hands up her bare torso, placing a kiss on the valley of her tits. "Please, Chris." She whimpers. "Patience, baby." The pet name falls easily from his lips. Soon enough, Chris gives in and gives her what she wants. He kisses from her neck down to her right breast and sucks her nipples into his mouth, kneading the other with his hand.

"Oh!" She gasps at the sensation, feeling a wet patch form on her panties. "Does that feel good, hm?" He mutters against her nipple, looking up at her through his lashes. "So good." She nods, gripping his hair at the back of his head. Chris' moot comes off her nipple with a pop and gives the same treatment to her other.

Y/n pulls Chris' head away and reconnects their lips. Panting against their lips, Y/n pulls away and starts kissing down his jaw, bringing his shirt up. "Off, please." She mumbles, rolling her hips against his, making him groan. He soon gets his shirt off and flips them, now he's on top of her. He licks, sucks and nips against her neck and collarbones. Chris' kisses her lower and lower and he find himself pulling Y/ns' sweats down her legs chucking them to the floor.

"So wet already." Chris presses a finger on the wet patch and Y/n tries to close her legs. "Hey, it's okay." He coos, going back up to be face to face with her. "Are you sure you want this." He looks at her, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear. "Yes, sorry. I just, you know. Never been touched there by anyone else." She leans up to give him a kiss. "Okay, if you want me to stop just tell me and we'll stop, alright?" He kisses her cheek before going back down to meet her covered cunt.

"Can I?." He puts her legs over her shoulder and kisses her inner thigh. "Yes." She nods. Chris moves her panties to the side and stares at her glistening pussy. "I've never done this before-" Y/n cuts his off. "It's okay, do what you think is natu- Oh!" She moans when she feels his tongue lick up from her hole to her clit. "Is that good?" He looks up at her while tonguing at her clit. "So good." She nods and sighs with pleasure.

Chris continues to suck on her pussy and slurp her juices. "You taste so sweet." He presses one last kiss to her puffy clit before coming up to kiss her, his chin wet with her arousal. Y/n can taste herself on his tongue. "Can I suck you off?" Y/n says through kisses, running her hand down to his hard on. "You want to?" He closes his eyes when he feels her squeeze his cock. "Yeah, same as you, I've never- you know." Chris chuckles. "I'm sure you'll be incredible."

Y/n now flips them over and Chris is sitting against the headboard, Y/n on his lap, kissing, nipping, and sucking on his neck. Like Chris, her kisses get lower and lower until she's on her knees face to face with his clothed dick. "Can I?" She asks. "Please do." Y/n lowers his sweats down and pulls him out, holding him in her hand. "So big." She kisses his pink leaky tip. "Oh fuck." He whispers. Y/n sucks on his top and leans in more until he's hitting the back of her throat.

"Shit!" He groans, gathering her hair into makeshift ponytail. She bobs her head up and down sucking his dick and she feels a string of her saliva go down her chin. "I'm- I'm close!" He tugs on her hair and brings her off his cock. "You don't want me to-" He shakes his head. "Wanna come with you." He smiles, bringing her to kiss him on the lips.

"Are you ready?" He refers to finally having sex. "I- yes." She nods, kissing him once more as he flips them and she's back against the mattress again. "I'm gonna go slow okay? Don't wanna hurt you." He kisses her forehead. As he grabs his cock to align himself to her hole, he remembers. "Fuck!" He groans, but not in pleasure. "What's wrong?" She says, coming up to lean on her elbows. "I- I don't have a condom. I can try to pull out- I will." He corrects himself. "Sounds perfect."

"Ready?" He slides his dick up and down, wetting his cock with her arousal. "Mhm." She nods. Chris stops his tip at her hole and slowly pushes in. "Oh." Y/n falls onto her back, feeling herself become full with Chris' cock. "You doing okay?" Y/n nods. "Yes, keep- keep going."

Once Chris is fully in her, he stops for a few seconds before pulling back and thrusting back in her. "Shit!" They both moan. Chris brings his thumb to her clit and draws 8's on the swollen nub. "Just like that- oh my god." She cries out, arching her back at the immense amount of pleasure. "You feel so good around me." He groans into her neck. "Fuck, Chris. Keep going." She whimpers.

"Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! I'm cumming." Y/n feels the imaginary rubber band snap in her lower belly. "I'm almost there, baby." He keeps thrusting in and out of her. "Shit- I'm almost. Fuck!" He pulls out and cums on her stomach, some landing on her tits. Y/n moans at the sight, feeling his warm spurts land on her body. "Holy fuck!" He lands on top of her, not caring at the fact that he's now got his cum all over himself. "How's that for a first time?"

"Better than I imagined it." She giggles, kissing his lips.

[gaysindistress]

What if Simon didn’t listen when Price told him to apologize to his girl before she does go off and find herself a better man?

a/n: This is technically part two for this list. You could read them separately but I really think you should read them both so you can fully feel the angst.

non-mcu characters masterlist

Taglist: @going-to-ikea-for-the-fries this is one is for you girl

Price stalks over to him and grabs him by the front of his vest, not caring that everyone can see what’s going on. “You call and apologize to her right now, ya hear me? It’s unacceptable for you to lie to her like that and I should have your balls for it. You fix it before she does go off and find herself a better man.”

Now let’s say that when Simon got back, things were….different. You rarely fought but now you’re bickering about every little thing and having full on battles of the will that leave you crying in the bedroom while he’s storming out. The connection between you two feels strained and distant where’s before it was warm and comforting. You barely look at each other and sometimes you think he’s straight up ignoring you.

Even the dogs have started to notice that there’s something off about mom and dad. Most nights you’ll sleep alone with the dogs by your door while Simon is on the couch. It feels like they’re laying in wait, ready to spring into action if anything were to happen. They don’t go to him as much as they did before and your female dog, Echo, refuses to leave your side. She’s become glued to you while your other dog, Zade, keeps you within eyesight at all times. It really pisses Simon off because Zade is supposed to be his dog and the mutt won’t even look at him (Simon’s words, not yours).

It all comes to a head though one night when Simon is trying to get Zade to come with him on a walk and the dog just stares at him. He doesn’t move. He doesn’t blink. He just stares into Simon’s soul and judges him for how he’s been treating you.

“Zade! Come here now!” Simon grumbles in a half shout but the dog doesn’t move a muscle. You’re in the bedroom with Echo at your feet and she glances over at you with a look that says ‘let’s go’.

What happened next is a blur. Echo barely makes it into the living room before she’s growling and placing herself between you and Simon. Zade is up and stalking closer to his sister’s side while Simon is growing more and more angry. You don’t think you even had the time to say anything before Echo and Zade tackle Simon to the ground. You know they wouldn’t hurt him but it’s still a terrifying sight and you’re doing everything you can to get the dogs off of him. You manage to get them off but they refuse to go to their kennels and keep tucked behind you, still ready to protect you if needed.

“Simon, oh my god are you okay?” You ask him in a panicked and high pitched voice as you try to help him up. He shoves your hands off of him and accidentally uses too much force which sends you to stumbling into the dogs.

Everything is absolute chaos with his anger, the dogs trying to protect you, and now you’re crying while trying not to tell him off. At this point you grab the dogs by their collars and pull them away as tears are streaming down your face. When they hear your sniffles, they immediately give into you and let you pull them to the bedroom. You don’t hear Simon as you start to pack as much as you can. The weeks of being on edge have finally gotten to you and you’re done.

You refuse to be in a relationship with a man who isn’t willing to communicate with you.

You refuse to be in a relationship with a man who used to be the most loving and devoted man you’ve ever met but now he can’t acknowledge your presence.

You refuse to be in a relationship with a man who’s come so far and has forgiven himself for the things he’s done but now he’s slipping back into his old self destructive ways.

You refuse to be in a relationship with a man who can’t be honest with himself and admit that he’s wrong.

You refuse to be in a relationship with a man who’s become Ghost.

You’ve tried having faith in him after he broke up with you but it’s rotting you from the inside out. It’s eating away at your heart, gnawing at your ribs with your flesh stuck in its teeth. This faith is liquifying the kindness and patience you once had. It’s changing you into an anxious shell of a coward who can’t stand up for yourself. Change is alright but this is not. This change is making you cruel and hopeless while it waits for you to become a faithless savage who devours whatever light touches you.

It’s only when you come back into the living room with your bags packed and the dogs ready to go that Simon says something to you.

He questions what you’re doing.

He doesn’t apologize.

“I’m leaving. We’ll figure out everything tomorrow,” you tell him as you find your keys.

“What do you mean?”

You stop. You stare at the front door with completely blank eyes. They flicker to him over your shoulder.

“I’m leaving you. I’ll call you tomorrow and we can figure out how to make it a clean break then.”

He doesn’t say a word. Neither do you after that.

He lets you walk out the door. You don’t ask him to fight for you either.

He lets you leave him. You don’t turn back either.

You meant to drive to your friend’s place but somewhere on the way there you pull over and cry until you feel like you’re going to pass out. Zade and Echo watch from the backseat of your car with their heads on your center console. They want to comfort you but there’s not exactly room for two 100 pound dogs in the front seat so they stay put. Your friend calls you frantically because she’s not home but tells you that you should come meet her wherever she’s at. As nice as it might be to get away, it’s not appealing to you at the moment so you call the only other person you know you’d be comfortable with right now.

A part of you knows it’s a mistake to call him and if Simon finds out, he might very well almost kill his captain a third time. The other part of you knows that John would be understanding and the calm presence that you want right now. He already checks on you regularly so would it be a huge surprise if you showed up on his doorstep?

As if he’s been waiting for this moment, John already has a guest room for you and has the back door open for the dogs to run around outside. They’ve met him before so they feel more secure with leaving your side although they both give him a warning look.

Now it’s important to remember that the entire time you’ve known John, you’ve been with Simon. John thinks himself a gentleman, albeit a bit gruff, but a gentleman no less so you’ve been off limits. Obviously he can’t ignore the initial attraction he felt towards you because you are an utterly breathtaking person and it would be impossible to not notice that. He’s tried to lock away the yearning that tugs at the marrow in his bones when he sees you but it’s difficult. It’s like asking a dog to stop begging; they might listen for a moment but they go back to it within seconds. Also during the course of your friendship, he’s come to know the absolute amazing person that you are and seen that you have the kindness soul he’s ever known. It didn’t used to hurt when he saw you but after that night you texted him to keep Simon safe after he broke up with you, it’s damn near unbearable. Simon told you to find yourself a better man and John knows he could be that man. He wants to be that man but only if you come to him. He won’t approach you or even hint at it with you. It needs to be you who seeks him out. It needs to be you who wants him. It needs to be you who asks him to be that man otherwise John would never be able to forgive himself if it all went wrong.

Nothing happens that night or at all for that matter during your stay with John. It was meant to only be a few days but with losing your house so suddenly and trying to navigate a world Post Simon, it ends up being a few weeks. You feel awful about it and promise that you’ll be gone as soon as you can. John always laughs it off and tells you to stay as long as you need. Secretly he’s growing accustomed to your calming presence and gentle ways. He adores how thoughtful you are when you have to work early and barely make a sound. He appreciates how you make him a plate and leave it in the fridge if he comes home late. He’s thankful that you’re comfortable enough with him to tell him about everything that’s going on.

John made a promise to himself that he wouldn’t bring up anything unless you said something first. Even when he wants desperately to know why you’re crying when you came back from Simon’s tonight, he won’t. Instead he offers you a cup of tea, a warm blanket, and some space while he busies himself in his shop outside. It absolutely destroys him to even think about leaving you alone in the living room but it’s the right thing to do.

Just as he’s getting ready to leave, your small voice stops him.

“Can…can you stay?” It’s unusual for you to not be confident in your words. It causes him to freeze to hear the uncertainty. “If..if you want.”

He smiles at the ground before turning to look at you and nod. You’re curled into a ball on the couch with your dogs at your feet but there’s space for him next to you. You lean away from the arm of the couch and he takes the hint. Settling into the space between you and couch, he tosses his arm over the back and lets you decide how to proceed. Against your logical head, you tuck yourself into his side with yours pulled around yourself and your head on his shoulder. His fingers itch to play with the ends of your hair but they stay tightly closed around the couch cushion.

“Thank you…for everything.”

“No need for that.” He murmurs with bated breath. He knows you can feel the tension, how could you not when you’re practically laying on his chest?

“One day you’re going to accept my thanks. It might not be tomorrow or the day after, but you will,” you say with a snort. He says that every single time and you reply with the same phrase every time as well.

John’s hand betrays him and starts to play with the very ends of your hair. You feel it just like you felt his strained breathing. It’s strange to feel affection from anyone else but from him, it’s…. welcomed. You don’t acknowledge it and he knows that you’re doing that for his own sake.

“Maybe,” he tosses back and his breath catches when you move closer to him. Your arm moves to wrap around his waist and stills when he tenses. It’s your silent way of asking for consent to hold him. “Love,” he starts and moves his hand away from your hair.

You move to look at him, resting your chin on his shoulder. He’s looking at you with such tenderness and warmth it makes your stomach flip.

“Do you have feelings for me?” You ask him directly, unwilling to be tossed around again. It’s abrasive and you know there’s a better way to have asked but it gets straight to the point.

John looks sick and a tight lipped smile pulls across his face as he tries to come up with an answer. “I…love I think you need to rest. There’s been a…”

“No. Answer the question.”

He glances down at your lips and that’s telling enough.

“Now isn’t the right time,” he whispers more to himself than to you. “You’ve just gone through…”

Cutting him off, you say firmly, “and that doesn’t mean I don’t know what I want.”

He can only stare at you with half lidded eyes and pray that he doesn’t break in front of you. His resolve is crumbling and it’s only thanks to his military service that he’s not throwing himself at you.

“I told him it’s over.”

John tries to interrupt you but you silence him with a pointed look. “I told him that I will always love him but that doesn’t mean I want to be with him anymore. I won’t wait around for him to figure his life out. I don’t deserve that. I deserve a man who knows what he wants and will communicate with me.”

Honestly it feels like his world is crumbling around him. You’re here snuggled into his chest and saying all these things which he knows what they mean but he can’t believe that you know what they mean. He can’t trust his own understanding of you and believe that you’d mean that.

“I need you to tell me what you want…now.”

You.

He wants you. More than anything in the world, John Price wants you and you’re asking him to confess that secret.

[hyunebunx]

˖˙ ᰋ ── pies and cuddles can fix anyone

﹙ʚɞ˚﹚. genre: fluff

﹙ʚɞ˚﹚. a/n: happy lix day!! this is a reupload but rewritten so it's better. enjoy <3

There was nothing Felix loved more in the world than moments like these. Sure, traveling was nice, getting to see sights he��s only ever dreamed of but his favorite destination would always be here with you, in your cozy little apartment he knew like the back of his hand. Home, his favorite place to come back to would always be home to you. Back to being surrounded by your specific smell that he couldn’t fall asleep without and your comforting touch, he longed for 24/7 – nothing could ever come close to that for him. Especially when you were both engaged in his favorite hobby and dressed in matching pajamas.

“Felix, come here.”

Your sweet voice had him complying instantly, abandoning the hot chocolate to be by your side in a heartbeat. Turning to face him with the biggest smile, Felix felt himself falling in love all over again as you brought the wooden spoon to his lips while stepping closer.

“Taste this and tell me if it needs anything else. And be honest!”

With a nod, he opened his mouth to do as told, eyes closing briefly to savor the taste. Apples, caramelized apples for your pie to be exact. Nothing could feel more like autumn than that.

He had a child-like smile on his freckled face once he opened his eyes again, visibly pleased, “I think it’s delicious as always, Y/n. It doesn’t need anything else.”

The way your eyes lit up at his praise had him chuckling, your happiness contagious. That’s why he couldn’t contain himself as he moved to engulf your form in a warm hug from behind, squeezing tightly while his chin rested on your shoulder.

“Okay, thanks.” You nodded, one of your hands moving to intertwine your fingers on your stomach where his rested, “To the oven it goes then.”

But you didn’t make any attempt to move – on the contrary, you leaned back to melt into his warm embrace as he started to pepper innocent kisses all over your cheek and neck. That continued for a minute more before Felix swiftly turned your body around to face him, successfully caging you between the counter and himself.

Leaning in, he rubbed his nose against yours affectionately, “You know, the pie won’t bake by itself, my love.”

“Just five more minutes.” Your voice came out whispered as you stood there, basking in the love your boyfriend was currently showering you with. A deep laugh escaped him at your response, placing a kiss on both of your cheeks and forehead before pulling away slightly.

“You only say that when I dare wake you up without giving you cuddles first. We’re baking right now, Y/n.”

You nodded again and moved to wrap your arms around his middle, resting your head against his chest right where his heart was, “Yes so don’t wake me up. I don’t want you to disappear.”

His eyes softened at the double meaning behind your words, a pang of guilt suddenly hitting him in full force. No matter how far away he was, Felix was never going to leave nor forget you, not when his heart always brought him back to the only place that felt like home. The red string of fate that connected you could never allow that.

“This isn’t a dream, baby,” he placed a kiss on the crown of your head, words murmured against your hair, “I’m right here and I'll always be.”

You were well aware of that but some reassurance never hurt anybody.

“I know. I’m just afraid of you disappearing because you’re way too good to be true. Like an angel without its wings, trapped on this planet to make things more bearable.”

Felix laughed, the sound causing you to do so as well as he buried his face in your hair to hide his embarrassment. Flustering your boyfriend was always so fulfilling. Making an angel laugh must count for something, right? There must a gauge that once filled will grant you eternal happiness.

Not like you were too interested, you already had that with Felix by your side.

“Shut up.” He murmured against your neck, the gesture causing goosebumps to appear all over your skin. “Put the pie in the oven and let’s go cuddle already. Even the hot chocolate is cold by now.”

[celuere]

Can we have a part 3 to the Not Enough/Sweet dreams Arlecchino x reader fic where Reader finds out she's pregnant and has to break the news to Arlecchino? Maybe some cute stuff about Arlecchino taking care of pregnant reader, just a bunch of FLUFF

Pretty please🙏🙏🙏

Anon if you’re asking SO nicely how could I possible decline…

To be honest I thought about this for quite a while because I am actually not that sure about how Arle would receive the news. I don’t think she would react in a negative way and just… dip out but I also don’t think like she would spin you around in sheer happiness (only if you‘ve been actively trying ofc but that’s not the case here). So I thought about a more neutral reaction, not knowing what to make of the news at first. But trust me when I say that I tried to make it as fluffy as possible without going too much ooc

Bu Arle taking care of her pregnant wife? Sign me the FUCK up.

pairing: Arlecchino x pregnant!reader

context: look at anon request!

cw: pregnancy, a bit angsty at the beginning, so much fluff that you’re suffocating in it, idk what else to put here tbh, not proofread!

Also I wrote the paragraphs shorter on purpose since I wanted it to have more of hc look than a full length fic!

Two. You connected a lot of things with the number Two.

For once there was your husbands birthday. 22nd of August.

Then there was the second Fatui Harbinger. Dottore.

You always put two spoons of milk into your coffee.

You have two eyes, two arms, two hands, two legs, two and so on.

You never connected any negative feelings with the number two up until now.

Two lines.

There were two lines on the paper stripe you were currently holding in your hand.

You weren’t shaking. You weren’t crying. You weren’t hyperventilating.

You just stared. Stared down at the positive pregnancy test as all you could hear was the thrumming of your own heartbeat in your ears.

You were pregnant. Pregnant from your husband. Pregnant from the fourth Fatui Harbinger.

Pregnant from Peruere.

You suspected it for a few weeks now. The frequent morning sickness, the headaches, the sudden exhaustion washing over you at the weirdest moments, not being able to keep certain foods down for a longer period of time.

You weren’t surprised, really. But you were afraid.

Would she be happy? Would she tell you to not keep it? Would she yell at you? Would she be ecstatic? Despite being married for a good five years now, the topic of pregnancy and a family outside of the Hearth never once came up in the thousands of conversations you already had.

You had exactly no idea how Arlecchino would take the news.

And that scared you to death.

To add more salt into the wound, your husband was currently not even present. She took on a mission in Mondstadt two weeks ago, only returning this upcoming Saturday.

So you‘ve got four days to come up with a plan on how to break the announcement to her. And you hoped with all your heart that it wouldn’t destroy your marriage.

Over the timespan of the next few days until Arlecchino‘s arrival, the children of course noticed your changed demeanor. The tense look on your face, your often exhausted expressions, how you often excused yourself to the bathroom after shared meals, they even noticed that you stopped wearing clothes that highlighted the curves of your body, exchanging them with a warm cardigan instead. They knew something was off but they couldn’t quite put their finger on it.

And Father wasn’t spared any details of it when she arrived late in the afternoon on a quite rainy Saturday. As a result, Arlecchino observed the situation for her own better judgement.

Your greeting was as usual, a soft kiss onto her lips while your soft hands cupped the outlines of her face with the exception of one thing.

Your weren’t smiling into the kiss like you‘d always do. But that was no reason for her to already draw a conclusion, so she simply went along with it, taking your hand into hers and lead you to the living room so she could tell you all about her little trip to the Nation of Freedom.

Furthermore she noticed how you stopped changing in front of her, even going as far as to lock the bathroom door when taking a bath, how you were always up much earlier than her, often leaving the dinner table as soon as you were finished with the excuse of „still having to go through some paperwork“.

It weirded her out just as much as it worried her. What could you possibly be hiding from your Husband?

On the other side of the coin, you were completely distressed. You had no idea how to tell her, when the perfect timing would be- just the thought about telling her caused your heartrate to increase unhealthily fast. And the bump that was getting more and more visible as time went on, it was getting incredibly hard to conceal it.

So now you where sitting next to your Husband at a fancy gathering of the Fatui, not daring to take off your coat despite Arlecchino‘s insistence.

You were sweating to death but there was no way in hell you‘d expose your bump like that so you just endured and declined the multiple wine glasses that were offered to you and stuck to your simple glass of water.

And that’s when it dawned on Arlecchino, every little puzzle piece slowly coming together as she watched you bring the simple glass to your lips.

The concealing clothes, not changing in front of her, how you avoided any kind of intimacy ever since she arrived, your distaste for certain foods and the sounds of you hurling up your guts in the morning.

How could she be so dense to the obvious? How did she not notice anything sooner? What on earth did go wrong for her to not think about the possibility of a pregnancy?

And for the first time in her life, the Knave felt something in her stomach sink. Was that nervousness? Guilt? Whatever it was, she hated this feeling. Wanted to rip it right out with her own hands and burn it to ash.

A family? With you? Sure, this particular scenario crossed her mind quite a few times. The image of you carrying her child, accompanying you to doctors appointments, waking up in the early mornings for a baby. Her own baby.

But was she fit for that role? Was she fit to raise this child with you? What if she turned out to be just as bad as Mother? What if she failed you during the pregnancy? These new paths opening up in her mind where so incredibly overwhelming for her, she had to excuse herself quickly for a quick breather of fresh air.

You knew something was off by stiffness in her voice before she left for the balcony, you were following her footsteps not a few moments later.

The cold evening air made the hair on your neck stand up, forcing you to pull you coat tighter around your frame when you strode up to her. She had her back turned to you, head leaned back to gaze upon the moon shining down at the both of you, her hair almost glowing in the moonlight.

„Peru-”

„When did you find out?“, her words were soft. Hidden with a slightly sharp edge but you knew exactly what she meant. You figured that she’d eventually find out on her own but you couldn’t help but feel that wave of anxiety wash over you.

„Around three weeks ago… four days prior to your arrival… Peruere, I… I tried telling you so many times but I simply couldn’t bring myself to- we never discussed the possibility of a family and considering your work in the Fatui- I simply didn’t want to put another burden on your shoulders…“, the tears formed very much on their own, the wind now stinging in your eyes.

„You think that my wife being pregnant with my child would burden me?“, she now finally turned around, her face was like nothing you’d ever seen. There wasn’t coldness edged into her facial features. Nor anger or irritation.

It was disappointment.

She was disappointed in you. Was she that bad of a spouse? What made you believe that she‘d be angry with you for something you were both responsible for? Seriously, was there ever a point in your relationship when she was truly mad at you? Sure, you had your disagreements like ever other married couple but your Husband was never angry at you. Anger makes one impulsive. You should know that best.

„Thats not how I meant it- but a child? Is that something you can imagine, is that something you truly want?“, the desperation in your voice cut deep into her heart. You must’ve carried these words with you for so long now, she should’ve acted sooner.

She finally took a step towards you, „Do I look appalled? Do I look disgusted by the idea? Am I even angry with you? My love, you tell me if I want to take this path with you.“, the worries from earlier still plagued her mind but that was a discussion for later. All that mattered to her now was to soothe whatever doubts you had.

„I… I don’t know… we never talked about this- you are often away on missions, what about your reputation, what abou-”, you words were swallowed up by her soft lips being pressed against yours, her hands sneaking around your back to pull you in closer to her.

The kiss was soft, so full of love and affection and suddenly it wasn’t nearly as cold as mere moments ago.

Slowly, she parted your lips, leaning her forehead against yours. A gesture she always did to signal you to calm down, that everything is alright.

„Tu parles trop…“

„You talk too much…“

She made no comment when her thumb gently brushed away a tear that silently ran down your beautiful face. The both of you just stood there in each others arms, not moving, simply just enjoying the presence of the other.

„I‘m sorry for not telling you sooner… I couldn’t- I just didn’t know how…“, the words came out barely as whisper, almost swallowed up by the wind.

„My sweet… what did I just tell you about talking too much?“, she gently squeezed your hands, getting a chuckle out of you that warmed her heart.

„So you’re not mad with me?“

„Do I seem mad to you?“

„No… No not at all…“, you both shared another soft kiss with each other.

„Then there is you answer. Now please… stop hiding from me…“, carefully, she shoved the coat aside to take a closer look and oh boy, you might just shoot her right there.

The cute baby bump might just changed her brain chemistry for the rest of her life.

A faint blush crept up on your cheeks at her reaction. It was unusual for her to loose her composure so easily, „the Doctor said I’m at the end of my first trimester… would you like to have a feel…?“, weird to propose to her again, but yes. You didn’t have to tell her twice before her warm hand carefully ran over your visibly swollen belly, she might just touched Heavens Gates itself right now.

There wasn’t any words being exchanged between you. There was no need for that. The softness in her eyes was all that you needed.

Over the course of the next weeks, you got to witness a completely new side of your Husband and loved this one even more.

Arlecchino immediately got you one of these long pregnancy pillows so we’re as comfortable as possible in your sleep, always making sure you weren’t laying flat on your back

You weren’t even allowed to carry your own bag anymore. You even had to convince her to let her walk up the stairs without her assistance, she was just fretting way too much about you, you were pregnant and not sick, right?

She made it part of her bed routine to apply and gently massage your belly with a special lotion that she went out of her way for to get it from Bubu Pharmacy itself, you didn’t even dare to ask about the price.

Can’t take her hands off of your belly for the love of it. The sight is just so admirable to her, thinking about the little life that grew up inside your tummy was just so- mindblowing to her so and when the first kicks start to set in… she is a GONER. Beyond salvation. Don’t even try to speak her.

Mandatory nap time. She did her research way before your pregnancy and knows how much of a toll this lifechanging process will have on your body so she lets you nap whenever and wherever you want and even sometimes tucks you into the comfort of your bed when she thinks you‘ve been active for way too long. You need rest. Lots of rest.

Stops leaving the house for mere paperwork or negotiations after your five months in, those are to be held now in her home office in case something might happen or you need her and if that happens to be the case- she quite literally drops anything for you.

Literally thanks you every chance she gets for bringing your daughter into the world, often wrapping her arms around you from behind, hands gently lifting up the weight of your baby belly as she plants soft kisses on your neck while telling you how much of a strong woman you are and how grateful she is for you the carrying out her baby. She is far gone your honor.

Did you every think to meet the Knave in a course about birth preparations on a Friday evening? Now you have.

Literally doubles the security in- and outside of your house, always having someone at your disposal and even arranging a team of nurses. That is of course only if you are comfortable with a bunch midwives swarming around you 24/7.

Her worst ever fear would be to miss the birth. Nothing sounds as horrific to her as making you go through the traumatic experience of giving birth without her presence, it drives her nuts to a point where she even refuses to leave you alone for more than hour in the ast few weeks of pregnancy

Of course buys you pretty pregnancy clothes that fit your taste, wether it be something to hide your belly or rather highlight it, she buys it all.

You literally can’t have a conversation with her without her ass mentioning her pregnant wife. Childe is so sick of her atp.

I‘m so down bad for arle being a goner for her pregnant wife. I can’t stress this enough.

[pomefioredove]

Ngl I want a sequel to bad ending 'yuu gets sold' series

Cause imagine the boys go to NBC just to find out that yuu is actuality doing great, better than great, even better than the time they were doing in NRC

I like to think that Rollo is legitimate a nice person when you remove the hatred over magic type of stuff

He deffo makes sure that yuu is well fed and clean (let's be honest, not something that yuu always has in NRC) plus treat yuu greatly

rollo fans who are starving since everyone stopped talking about him after november I'm here for you. I see you. take my hand

parts 1 | 2 | 3 | kalim | 'bad' ending

summary: yuu transfers to NBC type of post: fic characters: rollo my beloved additional info: yuu is gender neutral, implied romantic ^_^

It had been a long six months for everyone at Night Raven College.

The departure- and subsequent absence- of their beloved Ramshackle prefect was very much felt.

Days were longer, nights were darker, the first year class itself felt empty.

"At least they're not dead," was the consensus.

Of course, you continued to communicate with your friends- it wasn't like you completely dropped off the map, although Noble Bell College had a stricter policy about phone usage.

You even sent some letters back and forth, yours filled with updates and mementos, theirs with pictures of all you'd left behind.

Did you miss NRC?

Well...

You missed your friends.

But Crowley? The overblots? Being everyone's personal therapist?

...Yeah. You could live without that.

Noble Bell College may have been more exclusive, and more strict in their code of conduct, but it was more peaceful, too. Smaller, less students, and much less reliance on magic, so that you and Grim could be whole students independent of one another.

The curriculum was much different than NRC's. Less of an emphasis on a personal connection to magic, and more on tradition, ritual, and history. There were few times when you'd have to sit out a class, or watch your friends have fun from the sidelines.

If anything, Rollo made a point of including you.

A part of it may have been personal pride- after all, he just couldn't resist showing you how much better he is.

But he also had a vague idea about how stressful your life at NRC really was, and how isolated you felt, despite being surrounded by people. It was his duty, in a sense, to rectify that.

Even if it meant you had to sit through his lectures and recitations of the traditional magic laws.

...Though, even with his intense adherence to tradition and structure, he made quite a show of being kind to you.

Despite his best efforts to claim fairness and righteousness, it was no secret to anyone that he favored you. You quickly became the only person he spent his free time with (not that he was particularly social in the first place...)

And... it was nice. Is nice.

He holds himself to high standards, and expects that of others; he's cold, harsh when he feels it necessary, and repressed in all ways imaginable.

And yet... well, there's no sabotage, no swindling, no scamming, no manipulation to make petty ends meet.

Rollo, as a person, is both confusingly complex and reassuringly simple. You know as much. He sticks to routine, to rules, to tradition. He's diligent in every sense of the word, and highly respected because of it.

And when the eyes of the other students are turned away, he treats you with a sort of gentleness that you'd become wholly unfamiliar with at NRC. Like a porcelain doll, like something precious he desires to wrap in cotton and silk and store somewhere safe.

You wonder if his behavior towards you is at all connected to the very reason he risked his status bringing you here in the first place... but you don't dwell too long. He's as mysterious as anything.

When your former classmates come to visit over break, it's like they're meeting an entirely different person.

"Happy to see us, eh? You're like, glowing," Ace smirks.

Deuce elbows him in the ribs for that comment. "What he meant is that you look great. I mean, really! You've been sleeping more?"

You nod. "Lots, yeah,"

"Weird, I woulda guessed they'd been working you to the bone. This place is all "no funny business", right?" Ace shakes his head.

You laugh, walking alongside your former fellow first years in the streets of Fleur City, the very ones you'd become so accustomed to in recent months.

"I've actually been doing well with my studies. I think I've finally decided what I want to do after graduation,"

"Oh, that's great!" Deuce says. A lengthy pause follows, much to your confusion- it's as if everyone has something they want to say, but won't be the first to say it.

Epel clears his throat. "You been 'doin alright?"

"Um... yeah. I have,"

"Cause... you know, if anyone was giving you trouble, we'd give 'em what for!"

You chuckle. "I'm fine, really. People here are pretty nice..."

Again, that same silence follows. Epel, Deuce, and Ace look between each other, as if daring the other to say the next thing.

This time, you take the initiative.

"Listen. If this is about Rollo, he's fine. I'm fine. He's been nothing but helpful,"

The tense silence breaks and Ace sighs, shaking his head. "You can't blame us for being worried,"

"I mean, this whole situation has been really shady. Everyone at NRC has been worried sick..." Deuce says. "We just wanted to make sure..."

You smile. "I appreciate it, but you really don't have to send in a rescue party. I've been... I've been really good. Happy. And I miss you guys to pieces, but I've felt closer to home here than anywhere else. Does that sound strange?"

A short pause follows. Deuce is the first to speak, his voice sounding strained. "Not at all. We just want you to be happy,"

You can tell he's trying really hard to sound positive. Epel, on the other hand, doesn't sugarcoat anything.

"You really won't come back with us?"

You smile again, though this one is wholly apologetic. "No, I don't think so,"

The three are quiet for another moment, and then seem to drop the subject. The rest of their stay goes by smoothly, even with all the strained moments where you can tell they have something to ask. You assume they've already figured out the answer.

The day trip is over by sundown and you return to campus just before curfew, taking a seat in one of the cozy (though currently empty) lounges by a familiar face.

"They're gone?" Rollo asks, not bothering to look up from the textbook he's perusing.

You watch him carefully, and think it's best not to mention you friend's attempt to bring you back with them.

"Yes, they're gone. We had fun, nothing happened,"

"Good," he says. A brief silence follows before he speaks again. "I do trust you. But-"

"You don't trust them. I understand. If I were you, I suppose I wouldn't, either. But I'm fine,"

"When are they coming back?"

"Two months. They're taking the weekend. Might bring some other people,"

Rollo hums a note of acknowledgment, fingers rolling around the pen in his right hand. The book is still open, though he's looking ahead now. His face is flushed.

You know he's unhappy with it, but he won't say anything. You're grateful he likes you enough to let you rub elbows with people he despises. Especially after all that's happened...

He stands, closing the book. "Very well. Let me know what day so that I may adequately prepare myself. Good night. Be safe,"

And with that, he takes his leave.

Ever distant. Ever polite. One might mistake the way he speaks for coldness or resentment if you weren't so familiar with his mannerisms by now.

You turn to look into the lounge fireplace behind you, watching the flames flicker and die until all that remains are soft, glowing embers, the same shade of red that burns on his cheeks when you look at him.

[sabbathbloodysabbeth]

Steve flops backwards, his body going limp into the musty green couch. Argyle plops down on his right with Jonathan connected to his hip.

The budding warm feeling works its way through Steve, starting from his toes flowing up to his stomach. He can faintly hear Jonathan and Argyle talking to each other over the haziness wrapping itself around his mind.

A loud crashing noise barely startles him, it was a common noise when you were around Eddie. Steve has never met a clumsier alpha.

Argyle is faintly giggling at something, before he’s leaning over to Steve, casually pulling Steve’s shirt down to hide his happy trail that was popping out. Steve doesn’t think much of it.

“So, never got to ask, and you can totally tell me to fuck off but what’s like…. What’s like your secondary gender my dude?” Argyle is casual with the question, genuine curiosity filling his eyes. “I can’t ever tell with you,” he admits.

Steve turns his head, letting it hang down a bit as he smiles dopily. Blinking as he tries to form a thought. Time must be going much slower for him as one of the other two boys answer for him. Which one he isn’t sure.

“Steve’s an Alpha.”

Steve frowns, trying to open his mouth and speak. But he was floating to high. Drifting too far in the deep end to yell that they were wrong.

His limbs, somehow end up tangled with Argyles, whose not even paying attention. Just letting Steve curl into him, barely reacting when Steve’s nose finds its way into his neck. One sniff and Steve knows Argyle is an Alpha.

He already knew that, but now it’s confirmed. For all he knew Argyle could be like him. A omega who just pretends to be an Alpha to pass by. Spraying certain deodorant on and taking scent blockers.

Maybe one day Steve will come clean. Though the more Steve thinks about it, the more he wants to be honest with the guys who helped save the world with him.

When he exits his thoughts, the three boys are all laughing about something. Carrying a conversation about something, Eddie’s eyes casually landing on him from time to time.

Argyles attention shifts back to him after a bit, teasing that he’s never met a cuddly Alpha before. There’s no hint that he knows Steve’s not an Alpha.

“I’m not an alpha,” Steve mumbles gently as he shifts his body with a yawn. Eyes closing as he doesn’t catch the reactions from the room.

He just sniffles a little bit, turns his body at an awkward angle and curls up into a ball sleepily.

“Stevie?” Eddie is over him now. His hand rubbing gently at his shoulder as Argyle and Jonathan are both leaning over the couch curiously.

“Huh?” Steve asks softly. Blinking slowly up at Eddie dumbly. Melting under the alphas touch.

Steve knew he was a cuddly stoner, he probably should have warned the boys this as he moves a bit. Thinking Eddie wants to join them on the couch. Opening a spot between him and argyle.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to hog the couch.” He mumbles out gently. His eyes starting to slowly close again before he feels the cushion next to him shift.

Eddie’s hand is now moving to rub his shoulder, “it’s fine Stevie. But what did you mean by you’re not an alpha?” He asks.

Steve breaks out into a soft giggle as he tilts his head to look at Eddie better. Noticing the way the other’s eyes were red, an unreadable expression on his face as Steve begins to feel his body slide closer and closer to the other like it had Argyle earlier.

“Means I’m not an alpha, silly.” He’s seconds away from wrapping himself around him when Argyle pops his head over Eddie’s shoulder.

Steve can’t help but boop the other’s nose with a soft giggle as Argyles face twitch’s. “Are you a beta?” Argyle asks curiously. His head moving down to lean on Eddie’s shoulder. Seeing that, made Steve miss how warm Argyle was. His body felt like it was freezing without having any body heat.

“I’m cold,” he whines gently. Moving and looking around in hopes of finding a blanket. Before he can, Eddie’s up and back before Steve even misses him. Holding a blanket in his hands as he carefully wraps it around Steve who melts at the smell.

His cheeks are a soft pink, as he moves curling up without thought. He looks up seeing Eddie’s head tilted and watching him carefully. “Eddie why aren’t you on the couch?” He whines out.

A look of shock and amusement crosses the other’s face before he’s laughing and sitting down next to Steve again. Argyle’s now moving to stand and Steve’s pinching his eyebrows. “Noooo, argyle you’re too warm to leave. You’re gonna like- suck the heat away from the couch man.” Steve complains.

He can hear the soft laughs of the other boys, but he doesn’t care. He needs them to be near him. So he doesn’t float off to far. He doesn’t want to get lost.

That’s what he mumbles out as he buries his face into Eddie’s shoulder this time.

“Don’t worry big boy, i- we’ve got you.” Eddie mumbles gently into his hair.

Steve relaxes and smiles happily as he finds the spot he’s looking for. Eddie’s smell hitting him and making him feel even higher.

“Hmm… not a beta either.” He admits sheepishly. Arms now wrapped around Eddie’s middle.

Eddie can’t help but let a soft laugh, “yeah? Are you a snuggly omega then?”

Steve lets out a hum in confirmation, sleep finally taking over him while he’s wrapped in what he thinks is Eddie’s blanket. And cuddles into Eddie.

[jadeacereigen]

I think an underrated aspect of Separation Arc and why it works so well is that once Mob finally stands up for himself and stops going to work, we think we can expect the following to happen:

Reigen quickly flounders at work but stubbornly denies he's incapable without Mob's help

Reigen eventually runs into a client who truly needs the help of psychic powers (e.g. the client is haunted by an evil spirit who cannot be exorcised with salt)

Reigen realizes that he truly needs Mob to not be seen as a fraud and that he shouldn't have taken him for granted

Reigen seeks out Mob and apologizes, Mob accepts his apology and agrees to work for him again

Except... that's not what happens. Reigen does get upset and lonely without Mob, but his business runs fine—in fact, Reigen's own ambition and smart thinking actually allow him to find greater success as a psychic. The only reason Reigen's public downfall even happens is because he was maliciously tricked by Jodo, he'd figured out on his own that the kid wasn't possessed! This and the fact that Jodo is seeking petty revenge for Reigen "humiliating" him (when Reigen actually saved his life no less) really makes us feel like Reigen's public mockery is unfair and unjustified... even though we've always known from the beginning that Reigen is a fraud.

Isn't that a strange turn of events?

Then we get to the press conference. It's possible that even if Mob hadn't helped him at the end, Reigen could've still managed to salvage some of his public image. He was calmly answering people's questions and answering truthfully, pointing out that they had no evidence he was a fraud and that no one had ever had an issue with his work before the show. But all of that stops mattering to Reigen when he realizes that despite all his efforts from childhood, he's still just a lonely, lonely man who has never had any idea what he wants to do in life. The only reason he kept running his psychic business in the first place was because Mob showed up in his dull life and brightened it up with his vivid color.

It is finally here, after all this time we've been spending with Reigen, that we both figure out the truth: Reigen needs Mob not because of his powers, but because Mob is his friend and inspires him to be better. And this full understanding of Reigen's complex character and deep connection with Mob is what hits all of us so hard in this episode, it's so painfully human and real and we would not have gotten all of this had the story just played out as expected.

Thus culminates the genius subversions of Separation Arc: despite having the world's attention all focused on him, Reigen only makes one honest apology to one boy. This boy might not even watching this at all—if he is, he's probably watching this with spiteful bitterness—but it's still important that this boy knows...

You've grown up so much. You know that?

[arijackz]

PICK A CARD: Your FS' Secret Kinks

❦ “She lowered her lashes until they almost cuddled her cheeks and slowly raised them again, like a theatre curtain. I was to get to know that trick. That was supposed to make me roll over on my back with all four paws in the air." - Raymon Chandler, The Big Sleep

Disclaimer: This is a general reading, take what resonates. This is a gender-neutral reading, change any pronouns to apply to you.

p1 → p2 ↙︎ p3 → p4

✦ Pile One ✦

Poor lil pooh pooh. This person struggles to “fill their cups up” so they get off on denying themselves pleasure. They secretly like the feeling of hitting whatever rock bottom looks like to them. Honestly, they want to be saved. They are wallowing at the bottom of a well, waiting for their savior to swoop in and throw them a rope. 

In a more literal sense, they want a person to be their reason to live. Their reason to feel daylight on their skin again. Everyone and everything around them is unsatisfying and “fake”. They want something real to coax them out of their hell and entice them with all the thrilling things life has to offer. 

However, they also like this dark and brooding side of themselves. They have a bit of a corruption kink.

They fantasize about a virginal angel coming down to save them, but they end up convincing the angel to sink down to their level. 

They like exciting, spontaneous people who are willing to jump up and run out the door to do something fun at any moment, but think innocent fun. Like going to the movies to theater hop, and getting away without paying. Or, running around the Target parking lot in shopping carts and trying not to bang into cars. Maybe even steal a few street signs. 

Innocent childhood fun that you’d see in early 90s movies. But add a sadistic twist to it that only they are aware of. 

You would be the innocent virgin (doesn’t have to be true, it's their fantasy) who is unknowingly leading this beast (also not true, they are just extremely self-deprecating) to your pretty little happy places which they plan to desecrate.

They want to fuck you in your family home and make a mess of your childhood bed, making you scream so loud that you’re family starts to look at you differently. They want to take you to your favorite movie spots where you usually chill and hangout with your friends and turn it into a place where all you can think about is them covering your mouth in the back of the theater while you’re squirming in their lap, trying to escape out of their grip as they edge you to the new Marvel release. 

They have a kink for turning all of your innocent, fun moments into their very own filthy fantasies.

Ps. Fisting came out of the blue so lube up!

Come To Me, My Senseless Angel

✦ Pile Two ✦

I don’t believe this is a future spouse, to be honest. This might be a situationship you need to move past. They seem emotionally immature, or at least this is a side of them that exclusively comes out when they’re aroused. 

They can be quite abrasive and feel like they are constantly under attack so they’re incredibly defensive. They have a history of lashing out at their loved ones when they feel overwhelmed and get so blinded by their emotions that they disregard their affection for their partners and say really unforgettable, harmful words which permanently alters the connection for the worse. 

They carry guilt from these actions and are in a constant state of regret. In this state, their sense of pleasure is a little twisted. They get turned on by causing a genuine issue in the relationship. They like the idea of pushing you to your limit where you’re this 🤏  close to your breaking point and at your absolute lowest. It’s when you reach your rock bottom and realize the need to move away from this person and you scream out, “I DESERVE BETTER THAN THIS.”

They like to grovel. You know that cycle where somebody fucks up and then they’re in the dog house buying flowers and being extra fluffy just to get in the victim’s good graces so they can do the same thing over again. So far, pile one and two’s respective partners like to feel like shit. They secretly like the moment where they completely fuck up a relationship and have to beg on their hands and knees to get their person back orrrrrr they get off on emotionally tearing someone down to the point where they get on their knees to bed for this person’s attention. 

Either way, there's a lot of fucked psychological issues underneath this fantasy that I’m not unpacking here because it differs from person to person. 

In its best light, this person glorifies struggle love. At its worst, this person is purposefully emotionally abusive with the intent to tear their partner down for their own sexual gratification. 

They’re conscious enough to know their actions are toxic but don’t have the emotional maturity to work past their actions. They’re at the phase where they’re just aware and are like “I know I’m shitty but that’s just who I am. If they stick with me and the sex is good, it’s meant to be.”

I’m honestly getting twitter relationship hypotheticals with this one. Iykyk.

They’re also an edgelord. Less in an internet cockroach way and more in a witty- can be funny if done well- way, but they get pleasure from shocking people nonetheless. This energy can be directed toward you to piss you off and annoy you with the intent of getting in your pants later. 

I’ve been guided to switch the conversation briefly: If this resonates and is someone you are dealing with. It is time to move on. This person gets gratification from hurting you and will not get past that high of tearing down a relationship and then having a messy recovery. They have their own issues to work through and cannot see how they are hurting you. There is no future with this person, they came into your life to teach you a lesson about your self-value. That cycle has run its course and it's time to move on.  

To be honest, I’m not a fan of this person and don’t even want to list the explicit kinks that came out but I will just in case this message is for you but you’re not sure.

Random messages: Hot tub/pool sex, hair pulling, break down crying, interracial, milk, broken condom, “i fucking hate you”, “whore”, mirror, drunk sex, complaining, smack a bitch, twitter

P.S. You’re too sexy for the bullshit! There is bigger and greater out there, you just need to believe that for yourself!

This person will not get a mood board out of me.

✦ Pile Three ✦

Okay, so this person has some deep religious guilt. This is a male presenting person. I am being clear with their sex because it plays a role in this reading. They have some majorly repressed feminine energy. They may even be attracted to the same sex. 

This is a fs reading, so they are likely bi, pansexual, or trans. Either way, their family is close-minded and is not supportive of them. They were forced to leave home so they could finally live their truth. They have lived their entire life fitting somebody else’s narrative. They were the hypermasculine bro type to “cover up” their femininity. 

So, they have a kink for hyperfeminity. It’s almost to the point where they obsess over the caricature of girlhood. I see lots of pink, high heels, full-glam, all-day mall shopping, pinup curls, flashy jewelry, sleepovers, day spas, that scene in Scott Pilgrim where that girl is like “SHE’S PROBABLY LIKE 25!”, and everything else that gets associated with “girlhood” nowadays. 

They fantasize about you in your receptive energy, being waited on and cared for hand and foot. They like to observe the way you move. Everything about you and your feminine aura is incredibly alluring to them. The way with each breath your breasts fall, the way your hips swat with each step, the cute way you match your accessories with your outfits. They notice everything about you. 

You know those paintings of wealthy women lying on their sides and being fed grapes? That. They’re not in the serving role, they're the painter. Their kink is capturing you in those everyday moments where the world seems to be waiting on you like you’re the collective’s queen.

They see femininity in a higher light than the general population. They see women as automatically deserving of this type of care, they also want this care. 

They have a secret hard-on for pregnant women and women with swollen breasts. They have a lactation kink. They fantasize about cumming in you over and over again. They see you as a Goddess, so they want to see you masturbate at church on an altar, like you're waiting to be worshipped. 

A lot of their fantasies, they’re not even included in. It’s just you looking God-like and being worshipped by the world around you. This person may hate when you wear clothes. They act like the fabric is committing a sin by covering your body. They just want to capture your essence. Like an admirer and a student.

P.S. Dick game goes CRAZY. They watch a lot of women-focused porn to study what gets a woman off. Like Maddie in Euphoria, here is there to study.

Pretty In Pink

✦ Pile Four ✦

WE GOT A PLEASURE DOM IN THE BUILDING Y’ALL STAY CALM. As my mama would say, they love your dirty drawls!

You could do no wrong in this person’s eyes. They’re the golden retriever type. Head empty, leading with heart and IN LOVE>>>>>

You are the pot of gold and the end of the rainbow they’re chasing. They appreciate a good fling but they’ve never felt this before. The emotions you stir in them are unprecedented, this is puppy, sandbox love that most people lose touch with after life jades them.

This is raw love at its most unprocessed. I taste honey. 

They have a kink for the power you have over them. It’s like you have a carrot on a stick and they’re the pig being led to a love den they can’t escape. And they’ll happily be the squealing pig in every lifetime they get with you. This is a soul yearning. 

You will know this person because they will proactively pursue you and they will have no doubts in their mind about it. They are really attracted to your physical form, your curves. Even if you’re on the slimmer side, they like your structure and the dips in your spine. They’ll stare at you when you’re talking and zone out, thinking about how attractive they find you. 

They’re not used to having to try to get someone to sleep with them. They have to put effort towards you and they like that. This person is downright thirsty and craves intimacy with you.

Their fantasies aren’t even dirty, they’re passionate. They want to put you in a mating press, with your knees pressed all the way up beside your ears. They want to penetrate (could be with a toy) deeply and touch that gooey part of you that makes you see stars. 

They want to see an imprint of them in your lower belly. Any position where you’re in their arms is a go for them because they like having you. They want every moment to be just you and them away from the world. So very sweet and intimate. They also love marking you, expect lots of hickeys.

Ignore them from time to time too (healthily, these conditions should be discussed beforehand)! They see you as the ultimate prize, so if you delay their satisfaction, they’ll feel like they’re chasing again, which gets them off. They like to feel like they’re convincing you to sleep with them. You both are consenting, but they like the idea of you having better things to do and they’re trying to convince you to stay and party with them. 

They are very action-oriented and love movement. Anything that involves an adventure together, they are down for. 

PS. Surprise them with a bubble bath together, they’ll love that. And tease them while pulling their hair a bit!

Ode To My Darling Sun