#i am still thinking about the Chaos Room Incident

[min3nc]

what i wanted from jaiden coming back: lore about her going through the Horrors.

The Actual Horrors: Local Aroace woman gets pregnant... ?

[lymtw]

When you let Toji accompany you in the dressing room

"Toji, um," you struggle with your balance, wobbling when he starts pulling down your underwear. "I don't think this is a good idea. There's a really big gap in this stall. People can see us, or at least me."

He makes you take a few steps back with him until his back meets the wall you share with the next stall. "No one can see you now, okay? Come on." He slides his rough hand up your thigh, pulling your dress up to reveal your bare ass. "You look stunning in this dress, mama," he murmurs into your ear. "You're putting me through hell by having me just stand here and watch you try it on." His breath lures goosebumps out onto your skin. "Just makes me wanna fuck you in it." His other hand paws at your boob, squeezing it repeatedly.

"Well... what if they catch us?" You ask, your defense crumbling as he kisses your shoulder and up the slope to your neck.

"We'll just have to be quiet, won't we?"

—

"F-Fuck, Toji—mmph..." Toji's hand comes up to muffle your sounds.

"Shh... mama. You trying to get us caught?"

You shake your head, but it's proving to be a lot harder than you initially thought. You knew it would be hard, but you didn't know you'd be so terrible at holding your sounds in.

"You look expensive, doll. You want this one?"

"Mhm..." you mumble into his palm.

"Yeah? You can have it. On one condition." He leans in close to your ear. "You only wear it for me."

"Mm-mm..." you shake your head and push his hand away from your mouth. "I-It's a dress, Toji."

"Clearly," he says, smugly.

"I-I wanna wear it out."

He kisses your neck. "That's not what I told you, baby. If you get it, it's for my eyes only." His grip tightens on your hips. "Can't have you prancing around in this little thing. All that spare attention on you," he chuckles in your ear. "my knuckles would never heal."

"Oh, fuck," you whimper, your hand holds onto the stall door, the lock rattling noisily.

"That got you?" He snickers. "You really are the embodiment of chaos." His hand continues to paw at your clothed breast. He can feel your nipple hardening over the material, something that fuels the lust his body is feeding you. He groans at the feeling of your cunt clenching sporadically.

"What's it gonna be? You gonna be good and wear it only for me, or are we leaving it behind?"

You don't hear a word he says, the adrenaline pumping through your veins blocking everything out.

"Am I talking to myself, now? Answer the question, baby."

You gasp, your head hanging low. "Mm... okay, okay. It's for you... o-only you."

"Smart girl," he murmurs. "Gonna look so pretty like this on my bed."

"C-Can I cum, please?"

"We're taking too long in here, huh?"

You nod, your grip on the door faltering as your legs threatening to give out.

"Alright, you gotta keep your voice down, though."

Toji reached down to overwhelm your neglected clit, enduring the way your body jolted at the rush of stimulation.

"Come on, baby. Feels good, huh? Make a mess on me.

You shudder, unraveling at the constant feeling of Toji thrusting into you. Your teeth sink into your bottom lip, almost drawing blood from how hard you bite. Your brows furrow, your eyes shutting tightly as you try your best to suppress the moans that are dying to leave your mouth. Toji watches you, a smirk on his face when he hears the smallest squeak slip out, followed by shuddered breathing.

"Good fucking girl," he praises. His arms wrap tightly around your waist as he keeps rutting into you until he feels like he's about to burst. You tap his thigh when the overstimulation starts creeping in, falling to your hands and knees when he releases you and pulls his cock out to bust into his hand. You could hear his little hums and breaths behind you, a couple fucks muttered. This was his way of not groaning or moaning out loud when his load spurted out.

He looked down at you stretching your back on the floor, still on your hands and knees. The sight made him realize that this little incident wasn't enough to sate his lust for you.

"Get dressed," he says, tucking himself away. He watches you with a wolf-like hunger as you sluggishly take the dress off. You put your underwear back on and got dressed into your outfit. Green eyes bore into your frame as you tried to make yourself look as presentable as possible for when you exit. You could still see the lingering desire in his gaze when you told him you were ready to go.

You clung onto his arm, leaning against him as you walked out. He grabbed the tag number from the stall door and gave it to the woman working the dressing room area. She looked at the weary smile on your face and the random parts of hair that messily stuck out on your head. She reciprocated the smile but with worried eyes.

"We'll be taking this," Toji says, interrupting the woman's focus on you. He raises the dress by the coathanger it's on to briefly show it to her, before quickly dragging you away from her concerned expression.

"We're done here, right? Ready to go home?" Toji mumbles into your hair as he walks you back to the center of the store.

"Mhm, 'm tired. Just take me home already." You start trying to lead him towards the store's exit.

"Whoop, this way." He maneuvers both of you towards the register area. "Gotta pay first."

[f14fun]

lay all your love on me - op81 (C2)

synopsis: in which oscar piastri and a university student begging for her euro summer vacation collide in a steamy, abba-inspired romance

prose (6.1K words) ✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩ profile | masterlist | series index ⋆.˚✮🎧✮˚.⋆

─────────────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───────────────────

02: Love, Sweat, and Secondhand Embarrassment

"Clemmy I swear I wanted to die that entire time. Whoever I offended in an alternate universe I am so so sorry, I truly believe karma is real now," I lamented, voice weak.

Burying my head in my pillow, I could finally appreciate the cool blast of AC (well, it was a little bit of air conditioning but a little is better than nothing) I scratched my right leg that was hoisted up onto the blue duvet cover. If not for the horrible comedic timing of everything, in that moment, I might have said that I was enjoying myself.

On the other line of the phone, thousands of miles away, it was a completely different story.

"What the fuck," Clementine could barely muster out because she was laughing so hard.

"I still don't think any part of this story is funny, Clem," I roll my eyes and trail off.

"But it is! You genuinely should consider a career in stand-up comedy. If you recounted all of this in front of a paying live audience, I'm just saying it could make you a millionaire overnight," Clementine wheezed.

"Oh, shut up, bitch," I retorted, trying to suppress a smile despite my mortification.

"You know it's true though!" Her girlish giggles rang through my room. I could see her face through the screen and it looked like visible tears were streaming down her face from how funny she found this to be.

"I am completely and utterly humiliated. There is no way I can go downstairs and face everyone right now," I whined. It was true, as twenty minutes ago, mid-Facetime with Clementine, I heard the door to the foyer open and heard a lot of new noises.

New people. The neighbors. The rest of the Australians.

Crikey, mate.

There was no way I could face them. And since Oscar was probably their son (he looked way too young to be a father) he had probably already told them about the wretched and humiliating mishap.

"Seriously, Clemmy, you don’t get it," I said, trying to keep the frustration out of my voice but failing miserably. "This is not just some embarrassing story. This is my life, and I have to face these people now."

Clementine’s laughter finally started to subside, and she took a deep breath. "Okay, okay, I get it. But you have to admit, this is a once-in-a-lifetime kind of disaster. You can’t just ignore it. It’s like the universe is telling you to embrace the chaos."

I sighed, feeling a bit more grounded with her calming tone. "Yeah, well, I’m not exactly feeling the universe’s love right now. I feel like I’ve been dropped into some kind of sitcom. And what if they think I’m a total klutz? I can’t even begin to imagine how Oscar must’ve described me."

"It'll be fine. You are a pro at handling horrible situations. I mean, I can really only think that you have had more bad experiences with guys than good ones!" Clem tried to reassure me.

"Wow, thanks," I deadpanned. "Way to make a girl feel special."

Clementine's voice was full of playful sympathy. "Hey, I’m just saying, you’ve survived everything life’s thrown at you so far. Besides, look at it this way: if they’re judging you based on this one incident, they’re missing out on getting to know the amazing person you are."

"Yeah, because nothing says 'amazing' like face-planting into a pile of shampoo and knocking over a bunch of cleaning supplies," I said, sarcasm dripping from my tone.

Clementine laughed. "Exactly! And let’s be honest, if they do judge you for this, they’re definitely not worth your time. Besides, Oscar might even think you’re charming in a clumsy, endearing kind of way. You never know."

"You should really consider a career in therapy. If I lay here and close my eyes for a bit and sleep for three hours surely your advice will work," I retorted.

"Oh be so serious with me now,"

"I am! Now I can add a new skill to my LinkedIn profile," I said, trying to stifle a giggle. "How about 'Expert in Catastrophic Bathroom Mishaps: Master of Turning Shower Encounters into Slapstick Comedy'?"

Clementine burst into laughter. “That’s quite a title! It’s like you’ve got a whole new niche market for yourself.”

“Right? I’m just waiting for the endorsement from ‘The Association of Embarrassing Bathroom Incidents,’” I said, imagining a badge with that exact title. What a big, fat, fucking joke.

“Or maybe you'll become the keynote speaker for the 'International Conference on Unexpected Water-Based Accidents,’” Clementine added, her voice full of amusement.

“I’ll make sure to include a workshop on ‘How to Survive a Bathroom Collision with Dignity and Humor,’” I said with a chuckle. “And don’t forget the seminar on ‘Turning Slip-and-Fall Disasters into Networking Opportunities.’”

“A career to consider!” Clementine laughed. “And you know what? I’ll be your first fan. Just remember to keep me updated on how your new ‘disastrous bathroom mishap’ career is going.”

“I’ll make sure to do that,” I promised with a smile. “Thanks for the laugh. It’s nice to know that even in the middle of a fiasco, I can count on you to turn it into a comedy show.”

"What can I say, I will never turn down listening to a free shit show," Clementine winked at me through the camera.

"Clem! What the hell!" I waved my manicured pointed nail at her.

"Bye! Don't die from embarrassment before you come back!" She quipped, then promptly hung up.

I lay sprawled on my bed, dreading the thought of going downstairs and facing the group of new neighbors. The whole idea made me cringe. I was just about to mentally prepare myself for the awkward introductions when a sudden knock on my door jolted me upright. My heart raced as I called out lazily, “Come in.”

The door creaked open, and I nearly jumped out of my skin when I saw Oscar standing there. His eyebrow was raised, and he wore a cheeky grin that did nothing to ease my nerves.

"Well, well, well," he said with an amused smirk. "Looks like you’ve been having quite the chat with 'dearest Clemmy,' haven’t you?"

My face flushed beet red, and I stuttered, struggling to find my words. “W-What are you doing here?”

Oscar leaned casually against the doorframe, clearly enjoying my discomfort. “Oh, you know, just overheard you and Clemmy talking about our little mishap. I believe you mentioned something about me being ‘a charming yet infuriating Aussie who managed to turn your bathroom break into a comedy skit.’”

I blinked, stunned into silence. My mouth opened and closed, but no coherent words came out. The sheer embarrassment was overwhelming. Oscar’s casual demeanor and his cheeky grin only made things worse.

“What can I say, my name was called,” Oscar continued with a mischievous glint in his eye. “If someone keeps calling you hot, I mean, wouldn’t you be too curious to listen?”

His smirk only made my breath hitch and my fingers tremble a little more. I could feel my cheeks burning, and I struggled to come up with a response. The playful glint in his eye and his casual attitude did nothing to alleviate my embarrassment. Instead, they only made me feel more flustered.

I took a deep breath, trying to regain some semblance of composure. “W-Well, I guess I didn’t think anyone would be actually listening.”

Oscar raised an eyebrow playfully, his smirk widening. “Oh, I’m sure you didn’t. But it was too good to pass up. Especially the part where you called me a ‘human wrecking ball.’”

My face flushed a deeper shade of crimson. “Great. Just great,” I muttered, shifting uncomfortably. “I’m sure I’ve made a fantastic first impression.”

Oscar chuckled, leaning casually against the doorframe. “Look, it’s all good. I’ve seen worse first impressions. Trust me. At least you didn’t accidentally set off the fire alarm or flood the place.”

I managed a weak smile, still feeling the sting of embarrassment. “Yeah, well, I’ll try to keep any future disasters to a minimum.”

Look at me, constantly embarrassing myself in front of hot guys. This was the exact reason why I was still bitchless and socially awkward at the ripe age of twenty-one. I could navigate a spreadsheet like a pro, ace exams, and even master the perfect contour, but put me in a room with a cute guy, and I turned into a walking calamity.

I sighed internally, already dreading the inevitable teasing I’d get from Clemmy once she found out I had, yet again, failed to keep my cool around a guy. Maybe I should’ve just stayed in the bathroom and let the ground swallow me whole.

Oscar raised an eyebrow, studying me with a curious look. “You know, you seem like a completely different person right now. Way quieter, more shy… less daring.”

My face flushed with a mix of irritation and embarrassment. “That’s not true,” I snapped, crossing my arms defensively. “I’m exactly the same as I was before.”

Oscar’s grin widened, clearly enjoying the effect his words had on me. “Sure, if you say so. But the girl who almost took me down like a rugby player in the bathroom seemed a lot more fearless.”

My nose flared as I shot him a glare, feeling the fire of indignation rise within me. Who did he think he was, making assumptions about me? I’ll show him just how brave I can be, I thought, my fists clenching. If he wanted to see daring, then I’d make sure he regretted ever doubting me. The nerve of this guy! He might have been hot, but that didn’t give him the right to push my buttons like this.

Oscar gave me a lopsided grin, clearly pleased with himself. "Anyway, everyone’s heading downstairs to meet each other. Figured I’d let you know, since, you know, it’s probably not the best idea to hide out up here forever."

My stomach twisted with nerves at the thought of facing everyone after that humiliating encounter. The idea of meeting new people while still reeling from my disastrous introduction to Oscar was daunting. But there was no way I was going to let him see how nervous I actually was. I took a deep breath, nodding stiffly. "Fine, let’s get this over with."

As we walked out of the room and toward the stairs, I could feel Oscar’s presence behind me—large, imposing, and annoyingly close. My face heated up, and I silently cursed myself for blushing yet again. Why did this guy have to make everything so difficult?

It was like shooting a sitting duck. A little small talk, a smile, and baby, I was stuck. I was a grown woman, for god’s sake, not some teenager swooning over a crush. But there I was, getting flustered over a guy I barely knew. Get a grip, I told myself, trying to shake off the absurdity of the situation. This wasn’t supposed to happen—I wasn’t supposed to be this easily charmed.

When we reached the bottom of the stairs, I hesitated, gripping the railing a little longer than usual. I could feel Oscar’s gaze on me, and it only made my nerves worse. Just as I was about to take the first step down, his hand brushed against mine. The contact was brief but enough to send a jolt of awareness through me. His hand was rough with calluses, moderately enveloping mine in a way that felt both comforting and disarming.

What was it about this guy that made me feel so uncharacteristically off-balance? As I tried to steady my racing thoughts, I reminded myself that I had to keep it together. After all, I wasn’t about to let some smooth-talking Aussie turn me into a lovesick fool—no matter how much my traitorous heart seemed to enjoy the challenge.

As I reached the bottom of the stairs, my eyes were drawn to two adults who were deep in conversation with my mom. Their warm, friendly demeanor and unmistakable Australian accents told me they were Oscar’s parents. They seemed just as lively and outgoing as he was, which only added to the strangeness of this entire situation.

Then, I spotted Oscar’s siblings—a trio of sisters who looked like carbon copies of him, yet each had her own distinct vibe, like different fonts of the same typeface. They were laughing and joking with each other, their bond evident in the way they effortlessly engaged in light-hearted banter. I felt a pang of envy, wishing I had siblings to share that kind of closeness with.

My daydream was abruptly shattered when Oscar’s large, warm hand clasped onto my shoulder, his fingers pressing gently but firmly against my skin. The unexpected touch sent a jolt through me, making me jump slightly as a flush of heat rushed to my cheeks. His chuckle, deep and amused, rumbled behind me, the sound wrapping around me like a teasing caress. He was standing on the step just above me, close enough that I could feel his breath on the back of my neck. His presence was unmistakably felt—broad, solid, and way too close for comfort, yet somehow not close enough.

His fingers lingered on my shoulder, almost as if he was testing my reaction, and I could feel the warmth radiating from his touch, seeping into my skin. The space between us seemed to shrink with every passing second, and I could barely concentrate on anything but the weight of his hand and the steady beat of my heart hammering in my chest.

Oscar leaned in slightly, his voice low and smooth as honey. “Jumpier than I thought,” he drawled, his tone dripping with playful mischief. “Didn’t take you for the shy type. Especially not after our little bathroom tango.” His grin widened, the corner of his mouth quirking up in a way that was both infuriating and ridiculously charming.

My pulse quickened at the way he was looking at me—those eyes sparkling with amusement, as if he knew exactly what he was doing. I swallowed hard, my mind racing to come up with a retort, but all I could focus on was how his hand, still resting on my shoulder, felt both protective and possessive. The air between us crackled with a tension that was impossible to ignore, and I had to remind myself to breathe.

I could quite literally cut the sexual tension with the dullest fucking butterknife in the world.

I tried to muster a sharp retort, something that would wipe that smug grin off his face, but my brain was too busy short-circuiting to cooperate. All I could manage was a stuttered, “I-I’m not shy! You just—caught me off guard, that’s all.” The words tumbled out, weak and unconvincing, and I mentally cringed at how feeble they sounded.

Oscar’s grin only grew, clearly enjoying my flustered state. He leaned in a little closer, his gaze locked on mine with a playful intensity that made my heart skip a beat. “Off guard, huh?” he murmured, his voice dipping lower. “So, you’re saying if I hadn’t surprised you, you’d be able to keep up?”

I opened my mouth to respond, determined to regain some semblance of dignity, but nothing clever came out. Instead, I just stood there, caught between wanting to pull away from his teasing and feeling inexplicably drawn to his warmth. His hand slid from my shoulder, and the absence of his touch left a surprising chill in its wake.

Realizing that my window for a comeback was closing, I finally managed to sputter, “Y-Yeah, exactly.” I immediately cursed myself for sounding so pathetic. Not exactly the sharp comeback I was hoping for. His smirk deepened, and I could tell he wasn’t buying it for a second.

“Sure, whatever you say,” Oscar replied, his tone still dripping with amusement. He straightened up, giving me a quick wink before stepping down to the next stair. The playful glint in his eyes told me he knew exactly how much he was getting under my skin, and he was loving every second of it.

As he moved past me, I finally found my voice—too little, too late—and muttered under my breath, “Cocky bastard.” But it was quiet enough that I hoped he didn’t hear it. To my dismay, Oscar paused, turning back with a raised eyebrow and an even wider grin.

“Sorry, didn’t catch that,” he said, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “Care to repeat it?”

My cheeks flamed as I quickly shook my head. “Nope, nothing. Let’s just… go meet everyone.”

Oscar’s grin didn’t falter as he took a step closer, still looming above me. “You know,” he began, his voice casual but with that familiar teasing edge, “I’ve already met everyone else. Your mom, too. And I’ve gotta say, you two seem like complete opposites.”

I blinked up at him, caught off guard again. “Opposites?”

He nodded, leaning against the wall with that effortless ease he seemed to have perfected. “Yep. Your mom’s all smiles and warm welcomes. You, on the other hand… well, you’ve got this whole ‘ready to throw punches’ vibe going on.”

I narrowed my eyes at him, trying to gauge whether he was being serious or just messing with me again. “I do not have a ‘ready to throw punches’ vibe.”

Oscar’s lips twitched like he was holding back a laugh. “Oh, you totally do. But don’t worry,” he added with a playful smirk, “it’s kind of endearing. Keeps things interesting.”

I huffed, crossing my arms over my chest. “Glad to know I’m so entertaining for you.”

He shrugged, unfazed. “Hey, I’m just saying, opposites attract, right? Besides, your mom already likes me. You could take a few notes.”

His comment sent a fresh wave of warmth to my cheeks, both from irritation and something I couldn’t quite place. “I don’t need notes from you,” I shot back, though my voice lacked its usual bite.

Oscar just chuckled, giving me one last teasing wink before turning to head down the stairs. “Whatever you say, mate. Just try not to tackle anyone else while you’re at it.”

"Well well well, what do we have here?" A girl with short hair and a devious grin matching Oscar's grinned at me as well entered the kitchen. Shimmering her hands like "jazz hands", she rolled her eyes and rested her chin in the palm of her hand.

I turned to face the new arrival, immediately recognizing her as one of Oscar’s sisters—one of the three siblings who seemed to share his penchant for mischief. Her cropped hair and sharp, playful eyes made her look like she’d just stepped out of a rom-com where she was the resident troublemaker, always stirring the pot and having a laugh at everyone else’s expense.

“Hey, party people,” she said, her voice dripping with a teasing lilt. She shot me a grin that was almost a mirror image of Oscar’s, mischievous and knowing, like she was in on some inside joke I hadn’t been let in on yet. I could feel the same heat from before creeping up my neck. Why did it feel like these siblings were reading me like an open book?

“Looks like someone’s already made a grand entrance,” she continued, flicking her eyes between me and Oscar with an amused smirk. “Oscar’s been talking about you nonstop since we got here. Said something about a ‘bathroom fiasco’ that deserves an award?”

I shot a glare at Oscar, who was leaning casually against the counter, looking far too pleased with himself. “Did he now?” I said, trying to keep my voice steady despite the mortification clawing at me.

The girl laughed, light and musical, but with an edge that told me she was fully enjoying every bit of this. “Oh yeah, he’s been filling us in. But don’t worry, we’re used to his tall tales. I’m Hattie, by the way,” she added, extending a hand with exaggerated enthusiasm as if we were meeting on the set of a game show rather than in my kitchen.

I hesitated for a beat before shaking her hand, trying to muster a smile that didn’t look too forced. “Nice to meet you, Hattie. I’m—”

“Oh, I know who you are,” she interrupted, her grin widening. “You’re the girl who almost took out my brother. Honestly, I’m impressed. No one’s ever managed to knock him off his game quite like that.”

I glanced at Oscar, who was watching the exchange with an infuriatingly smug look on his face. Maisie’s comment hung in the air, both a compliment and a lighthearted jab. I couldn’t help but feel like I was once again the butt of some inside joke between the siblings.

“Yeah, well, it’s a special talent of mine,” I said, trying to sound casual but feeling like every word was being scrutinized. “Guess I just have that effect.”

Hattie laughed, the sound bright and unapologetically amused. “Oh, I like you already. But hey, if you’re gonna hang out with us, you better be ready for a little friendly chaos. And maybe a few more unexpected collisions.”

Oscar gave a soft snort of laughter, and I could feel his eyes still on me, assessing, teasing, and—annoyingly—almost impressed. I tried to ignore the butterflies that seemed to be staging a full-on rebellion in my stomach. Clearly, this family thrived on playful torment, and I had somehow found myself right in the middle of it.

“Don’t worry,” I said, straightening up and forcing a confident smile. “I think I can handle whatever you guys throw at me.”

Hattie's eyes sparkled with mischief, and she gave me a mock salute. “That’s the spirit. Welcome to the chaos, mate.”

Oscar chuckled again, giving me that damn wink before pushing off from the counter. “Oh, she’s ready for it. Trust me, she’s already made quite the impression.”

The other two girls strolled in, each with their own distinct energy that filled the room. One had a fierce, confident look, dark hair tied up in a messy bun, and a leather jacket that screamed ‘cooler-than-you’ vibes. The youngest, a curly-haired, bright-eyed whirlwind, practically bounced into the kitchen, her infectious smile lighting up the space.

“So,” I said, feeling slightly overwhelmed by the sudden influx of new faces. “I’ve met Oscar, obviously, and… Hattie, right?” I glanced at the girl who had first greeted me, who nodded with a playful smile. “But I’m afraid I haven’t gotten your names yet,” I continued, pointing between the other two sisters.

The girl with the leather jacket gave me a wry grin, leaning casually against the counter. “I’m Edie,” she said, her voice dripping with casual confidence. “The cooler, smarter middle child.”

Mae, the youngest, immediately chimed in, rolling her eyes at her sister. “And I’m Mae, the fun one,” she said with a giggle, her curls bouncing as she hopped up onto a stool. “Edie’s just mad she wasn’t born with my charm.”

Edie snorted, pretending to be offended. “Please, you’re like a tiny tornado of chaos. But yeah, I guess she’s not wrong,” she added, shooting me a smirk. “Mae’s got a way of making everything a little… livelier.”

I couldn’t help but smile at their playful back-and-forth. “Nice to officially meet you all. And thanks for the heads-up on your brother’s antics,” I said, glancing at Oscar, who was watching the exchange with an amused glint in his eye.

“Oh, trust me,” Hattie added, her grin widening as she nudged Oscar with her elbow. “We’ve got years of experience keeping this one in line. You’re welcome to join the effort.”

Oscar threw his hands up in mock surrender. “Wow, ganging up on me already? This is why I never bring girls home,” he joked, though there was a hint of genuine warmth in his voice, like he was more than used to—and secretly enjoyed—their teasing.

Mae leaned forward, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “Just wait till we start telling you all the embarrassing stories. Oscar’s got quite a few, and we’ve got no problem spilling the tea.”

Oscar smirked, shifting his weight just enough to close the distance between us, his presence suddenly feeling a lot closer, a lot warmer. He leaned in with a casual ease, his movements smooth and unhurried, as if he had all the time in the world to make me squirm. His voice dropped into a playful, low tone, rich and velvety, each word dripping with deliberate charm. “Oh, don’t worry about them,” he murmured, his gaze locked onto mine with an intensity that made my heart skip a beat. “I’d much rather hear your stories. You’re far more interesting than anything they could say about me.”

The way he looked at me was like I was the only person in the room, his eyes lingering on mine with a bold, flirtatious glint that sent a shiver down my spine. His grin was maddeningly confident, a little crooked, and devastatingly irresistible—the kind of smile that made it clear he knew exactly what he was doing. It was teasing, suggestive, and far too charming for its own good, like he was daring me to blush, daring me to react.

I felt the heat creeping up my neck, a slow burn that spread across my cheeks, making my skin prickle with the sudden awareness of how close he was. My mind scrambled for something clever to say, but his flirtatious tone, the way his eyes roved over my face as if he was reading every reaction, left me tongue-tied. It was like he was peeling back layers with just a look, searching for the part of me that he could fluster with a few well-placed words and that infuriating smile.

I tried to steady my breath, but his proximity was overwhelming. I could catch the faint scent of his cologne—fresh, with a hint of something spicy—and the subtle shift of his body as he leaned closer sent my senses into overdrive. Every nerve seemed to hum in response to his nearness, and I could feel my face burning hotter, betraying me with every second that I failed to look away.

Edie made a gagging noise, rolling her eyes dramatically. “Ew, Oscar, seriously? Can you not flirt for like five seconds? It’s embarrassing.”

Mae giggled, giving Oscar a playful shove. “Yeah, gross. No one wants to see that. Save it for when we’re not around, Romeo.”

Hattie snorted, shaking her head as she watched Oscar with a mix of amusement and exasperation. “He’s always like this. Thinks he’s Mr. Smooth. Don’t let him get to you.”

But Oscar only chuckled, clearly unfazed by his sisters’ teasing. He turned back to me, his grin widening as he caught sight of my flushed cheeks. “Aww, look at that,” he said, his voice soft and teasing. “Did I make you blush? How cute.”

I quickly tried to hide my face, mortification bubbling up as I realized there was no escaping the heat radiating from my cheeks. “N-No, you didn’t,” I stammered, though the pink tint on my face said otherwise.

Oscar’s smirk deepened, and he leaned in just a little closer, his voice barely above a whisper. “You’re not very good at hiding it, you know. It’s kind of endearing.”

I could practically feel my cheeks getting even more red, if that was even possible. His sisters snickered behind us, enjoying the show as much as they enjoyed tormenting him.

Mae nudged Hattie, whispering loud enough for everyone to hear, “He’s really laying it on thick, huh? Someone needs to put a leash on this one.”

Hattie snickered and turned to me, giving me an exaggeratedly sympathetic look. “Don’t worry, he does this to everyone. It’s part of his ‘charm offensive.’ Just don’t let him get away with it too easily.”

“Yeah, make him work for it,” Edie added with a laugh. “And don’t let that blush fool you. He’s got enough of an ego without you feeding it.”

Oscar just shrugged, clearly unbothered by his sisters’ ribbing. He kept his eyes on me, his smile softening just slightly. “They’re just jealous because they know I’m right. You really are something else.”

I rolled my eyes, trying to fight the smile that was creeping onto my face despite my best efforts. “You’re impossible,” I muttered, crossing my arms in an attempt to compose myself.

Oscar leaned back, finally giving me a bit of space but not without one last wink. “Impossible’s my specialty,” he said, the playful challenge hanging in the air.

Hattie clapped her hands together, breaking the charged silence that had wrapped around us. “Alright, lovebirds, let’s change the scene before this kitchen gets any steamier,” she said with a sly grin, glancing between Oscar and me. “What do you say we all head out to the pool? It’s hot as hell today, and I could use a swim.”

Mae’s eyes lit up at the suggestion, and she bounced on her toes with excitement. “Yes, please! I’ve been dying to jump in all morning. Come on, it’ll be fun.”

Edie shrugged, pushing off the counter. “Sounds like a plan. Beats sitting around here watching Oscar make a fool of himself,” she said, shooting her brother a pointed look that he brushed off with a careless smirk.

I hesitated, caught off guard by the sudden change in plans. The thought of the pool—cool water, bright sun, and lounging with these new, vibrant personalities—was tempting, but my mind immediately jumped to what that would mean: changing into a bikini, being under the sun's scrutiny, and, worse, the idea of Oscar’s eyes on me again, but this time with even less to hide behind.

“Uh, yeah, sure,” I said, trying to sound casual, though my heart was starting to race for an entirely different reason now. “Just give me a minute to get changed.”

As I slipped back into my room, I rummaged through my suitcase, finding the bright bikini I had packed on a whim but hadn’t quite planned on wearing in front of a whole audience of strangers. It was a pretty number—a little more revealing than I was used to—but suddenly, the idea of wearing it around Oscar felt daunting. My insecurities bubbled up: the nagging thoughts of whether my stomach was flat enough, if my thighs looked alright, or if the faint stretch marks I tried so hard to ignore would be too noticeable under the bright afternoon sun.

I took a deep breath, staring at my reflection in the mirror. I tugged at the fabric, trying to adjust it in a way that made me feel more comfortable, but the nerves wouldn’t settle. I could already imagine Oscar’s eyes lingering on me, his playful smirk turning into something more appraising, and the thought sent a rush of heat to my cheeks. God, why was I letting this get to me? It was just a pool. Just a bikini. Just Oscar. But the more I tried to rationalize, the more those little fears crept in, whispering doubts that made my stomach churn.

I was so lost in my own thoughts, adjusting and readjusting the strings and trying to silence the negative self-talk, that I nearly jumped out of my skin when a sudden knock rattled my door. My heart leaped into my throat, and I spun around, my breath catching as I called out, “W-Who is it?”

“It’s me,” came Oscar’s familiar voice, muffled but still clear enough to send a jolt of nerves through me. “Just checking to see if you’re alright in there. You’ve been quiet, and, well, didn’t want you chickening out on us.”

His tone was light, but there was something softer in it, something that caught me off guard. It wasn’t the usual teasing or the cocky one-liners I’d grown accustomed to in the short time I’d known him. This felt… genuine. A flicker of concern threaded through his words, almost like he actually cared if I was okay. My cheeks flushed anew, this time from the unexpected warmth of his attention rather than embarrassment.

I sat on the edge of the bed, my fingers fidgeting with the hem of my cover-up as I tried to piece together my swirling thoughts. Was this the same Oscar who had been smirking at me in the kitchen, flirting shamelessly in front of his sisters? The same Oscar who seemed to relish every moment he made me blush or stumble over my words? It was strange, almost disarming, to hear him like this—concerned, attentive, with none of his usual bravado.

My heart fluttered at the thought. What if there was more to him than just the cheeky guy who lived for teasing? I couldn’t help but feel a small, unexpected tug in my chest, an urge to believe that this side of him was real and not just some act. But then, just as quickly, my rational side kicked in, reminding me that I’d known Oscar for all of three hours, most of which had been spent flustered and caught up in his whirlwind of charm.

Was I reading too much into this? Was I letting my own insecurities and wishful thinking color my perception of him? It was hard not to, especially when he swung so easily between flirty and sincere, keeping me constantly off-balance. I barely knew this guy, yet here I was, letting my mind wander into dangerous territory, imagining depth and sincerity that might not even be there.

I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to steady my thoughts. I didn’t want to jump to conclusions—didn’t want to let a few kind words make me think I’d seen some hidden side of him. But it was hard not to feel flustered when his voice had softened like that, when he’d taken the time to check on me instead of just joking about how long I was taking.

The knock on my door, the concern in his tone—it all felt so different from the playful Oscar who’d swaggered into my life just a few hours ago. Maybe it was nothing, just a moment of decency, a brief glimpse of something real behind the jokes and teasing. Or maybe I was just overthinking, desperate to see something more in him because he’d managed to get under my skin in a way I wasn’t quite prepared for.

I sighed, feeling my cheeks heat up once more as the realization hit me—I was blushing again, and not just from embarrassment this time. There was something about Oscar, something that made me want to believe he was more than the carefree charmer he projected. But whether that was true or just wishful thinking, I couldn’t be sure. Not yet.

“I-I’m fine!” I called back, trying to steady my voice, but it came out shaky, betraying the mix of anxiety and embarrassment that had settled in my chest. “Just… getting ready.”

There was a pause on the other side of the door, long enough that I thought he might have walked away. But then, Oscar’s voice cut through again, softer this time, and with a teasing edge. “You sure? I promise no one’s gonna judge you out there. Least of all me.”

The reassurance felt sincere, but I couldn’t help the way my mind raced with all the what-ifs. What if he did look? What if I didn’t look good enough? What if this stupid bikini made me feel more exposed than I could handle? I glanced at myself one last time in the mirror, trying to summon the confidence that I usually wore so easily, but right now felt like it was hiding somewhere I couldn’t reach.

“Yeah, I’m sure,” I finally managed, forcing a smile I hoped he couldn’t hear through the door. “Just... give me a sec. I’ll be right out.”

“Take your time,” Oscar said, his voice fading as he finally moved away from the door. “But don’t take too long. You don’t wanna miss the fun.”

As his footsteps retreated, I let out a shaky breath, trying to collect myself. I ran a hand through my hair, giving myself one last pep talk before heading out. It was just a pool day, I reminded myself. Just a stupid pool day with some new people and a guy who was way too good at making me blush. And maybe, just maybe, it would be fun—if I could get out of my own head long enough to let it be.

─────────────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───────────────────

taglist! @mingyusbigrighttoe @theblueblub @demandealalune @linnygirl09

[thelov3lybookworm]

Remember me? (Part 18)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17

Summary: Idiot in love

•○●⛦●○•

Word Count: 1849

A/n: ehehe i am so happy to be writing this again. i know it took me like, months to get to this but i lovedd writing this one soo much and i am so happy to share this one with you all my bbgs 😭🥹

also im soo sorry i made you all wait for this🥲 please accept this peace offering 🥰

enjoy!

°•°•°•○🌑○•°•°•°

Y/n had returned to her and Fin's chambers. She found Nyx and Fin sitting in his room, running and jumping on his bed. Feyre was resting on the couch in the living area couch, wrapped in a threadbare blanket and staring at the kids through the open door.

Y/n said nothing as she settled next to Feyre, letting out a sigh.

Y/n knew Eris would be here anytime with the inner circle and Tamlin.

Feyre an Eris had decided to interrogate him for where and how he found Nyx.

A knock came on the door, and a moment later Eris entered, four others in tow.

For a moment, they said nothing, staring at Feyre, who did not bother to acknowledge their presence. Y/n glanced at Eris, concerned.

Eris simply shrugged and settled down next to Y/n, his arm resting across the backrest, his fingers brushing the nape of her neck.

Tamlin let himself sit on one of the other couches that filled the space, and a few moments later, the Illyrians followed. Morrigan was the last one to sit, still staring at Feyre.

Y/n tried to take deep breath to fill her lungs, but it felt hard considering the tension in the air was thick.

"So..." The warrior with the red siphons, Cassian, spoke, and Y/n could tell he was trying to ease the tension.

"Where did you find Nyx?"

Those were the first word that came out of Eris's mouth, directed towards Tamlin.

"I was on my way to the palace when I felt something. It was dark, like something that was not supposed to be in the forest." Tamling glanced around once before settling his gaze back on Eris, leaning back to get comfortable before he spoke next. "I decided to take a look. There, I found an... opening, almost. It was dark, like a void. And the boy was walking towards it, but he did not seem in control of himself."

"It was Rhys." Feyre mumbled, making everyone's head snap towards her.

"What?" Azriel and Y/n asked simultaneously.

"I looked into Nyx's mind. Rhys had been trying to control him and bring him to the Night court through the opening he created, thinking no one would notice in the chaos of the night."

Silence reigned before Eris and Cassian cursed.

"Those openings have been appearing everywhere from what I know. Just a few days ago I saw a couple in spring."

"Why would he do that though? And why did you leave, Feyre?" Morrigan asked, her tone accusatory.

"Mor." Cassian warned. Mor huffed, folding her arms across her chest.

Y/n felt a tap against her mental shields, and she glanced at Feyre, who still stared at the kids. That told Y/n what she needed to know.

"Fifty years ago-" Y/n began with a deep sigh, commanding everyone's attention. "-Under the mountain, was when I first met Rhys."

°•°•°•○🌑○•°•°•°

The atmosphere was extra gloomy as Y/n stared out the window of her bedchambers. Even the trees seemed to droop in sadness, the wind too still, glaring in hate.

She sat by herself, the comforter whispering under her wandering palms as she tried to hold onto the soft materials. She could not stop thinking about the incident that happened a few hours ago, how scared and worried everyone was. Just thinking about Feyre’s grief stricken face brought tears to Y/n’s own eyes.

A knock drew her from her depressing thoughts, and the fire in the hearth crackled as the door cracked open a moment later.

The grim face of the high lord peeked in, eyes flitting from object to object until they landed on Y/n, who did not even glance at him.

He closed the door behind him, walking towards her and just staring at her, pausing only when she gave no reaction to his close proximity.

She spared one glance at his face, then patted the plush mattress beside her. He sat down, his sigh echoing in her ears as the comforting scent of his cinnamon and wood scent enveloped her. He sat close enough that the heat from his body warded off the chill and warmed Y/n up within moments, or maybe it was his fire magic.

Whatever it was, Y/n leaned closer to him, grateful for the reprieve from the chill that the fire crackling in the hearth did nothing to chase.

Y/n was perfectly content to sit next to Eris in silence the whole night, but it seemed like he had other plans when he shifted, turning his body to face her.

"Y/n?"

She blinked, then turned her head. "Hmm?"

He seemed nervous about something, light sweat glistening on his neck, partially covered by his shirt. She then realised he had discarded his heavy jacket somewhere, and now he just sat in front of her in a simple white shirt.

"I know this is probably not the best time to talk about this, but… it’s important."

Y/n lifted a brow, remaining silent, knowing he would continue talking.

"The advisors and courtiers, they’ve been pestering me to find a bride."

Confused, she stared at him, wondering how she was concerned in that matter. And then her heart stopped.

He was going to get married.

Y/n looked away, nodding.

"And? Why are you telling me this?"

On the inside, her heart was struggling to stay put, cracks beginning to form in the already withered organ.

He groaned. "Why do you think Y/n?"

She glared at him for a moment before getting to her feet. "The only reason I can think of is you want me to find you a bride. Is that what it is? Sure, I’ll find you one-"

Moments merged together in the next instance, and everything started to low down. Or maybe she was too drunk to realise how fast things were going.

A hand clamped down on her elbow, long, slender fingers digging into the skin and bone, heat rising slowly as he caged her body against the nearest wall so she faced him. His smell overpowered all of Y/n’s senses, the skirts of the ball gown she had worn to the revel a few hours ago swishing softly against the ground. Eyes widening, Y/n met his burning gaze.

Even though he was no longer touching her, she knew his skin would be hot to the touch.

It was a thing she quickly found out once she moved to autumn court. Everytime Eris was frustrated or mad, his whole body burned like a furnace.

"Eris-"

"Why do you not understand Y/n?" He snapped. "Why do you not understand that I don’t want you to find me a bride? When will you understand that I want you to be my bride?"

His chest heaved against hers as he stepped closer, his eyes pleading, yet burning with a passion she had only seen the glimpses of before.

Y/n was dumbfounded. She did not know what to say. She did not know whether to ask him to repeat or laugh in joy.

But the words that slipped out of her mouth were neither. They were entirely damning.

"You never gave me any indication-"

"Didn’t I, my sweet nemesis?" His words were followed by a deep sigh as he stepped away, the sound of the air exhaling reverberating in Y/n’s very bones. "Did I not do my very best to make you happy? Did I not- hell, our dance tonight should have been enough for you to understand my intention. And even if that wasn’t enough, did I not say I would have married you right then and there if you just said the word?"

Y/n shrinked under his gaze as he turned away, running a hand through his hair. He cursed under his breath, then mumbled a low sorry.

"Eris-"

"It’s alright if you don’t want me, Y/n, but I thought… I… I thought that you must have liked me back-"

"Eris listen to me-"

"Maybe I’m not as good at reading people as I thought I was-"

Frustrated, Y/n followed him to her bed, then grabbed the back of his shirt just as he was about to sit. He whipped around, his eyes going a fraction wide at the look on her face.

"Shut up and listen for once, my lord." a shove accompanied her words, and Eris bounced onto the bed, his lips sealed in fright.

Honestly, I could get used to this.

Her lungs expanded, then she released a breath. "I… I’ll need some time, Eris. I can’t take such a big decision myself. Fin-"

"Has no problem with me marrying you." Eris mumbled, breathless as he stared at her.

Y/n blinked. "You- what?"

He nodded, getting back to his feet, grinning. "I already talked to Fin, and he was quite happy about it."

Despite her disbelief, the corners of Y/n’s lips ticked up. Eris looked just like one of his young pups, excitement in his eyes and a jump in his step.

The happiness and hope in his eyes made her realise.

I love him.

fuck.

I love him.

She gazed at him, freckles decorating his skin like freckles glowing in the fire in the hearth, the way his eyes glinted with something so pure, so innocent, the childlike glee…

It was impossible to say no.

Not like she wanted to in the first place.

"Yes."

He blinked, his ears darkening. "Yes?"

"Yes, I will marry you, Eris Vanserra."

The smile that split his plush lips could have lighted the whole universe. She knew it would light any dark days she would have to face in the future.

"I- thank you, Y/n. Oh mother." He stepped back, his hands shaking as he shoved them in his pocket and pulled out a small box, his fingers fumbling for a moment before finally getting it open. "This… I cannot believe this. Oh my god."

He grabbed her hand, pushing a beautiful ruby and diamond encrusted ring onto her finger.

She laughed at his reaction, pulling him into a hug. His arms wrapped around her in a tight vise, asif he never wanted to let go.

Y/n hoped he would never.

They stayed in the embrace for long moments, neither wanting to let go.

"Eris?"

"Hmm?"

"I’m so glad I met you."

"Y/n?" he whispered in her ear.

She grinned into his shoulder as he began swaying her softly. "Hmm?"

"I’m so glad I met Fin."

She gasped, pulling away to glare at him, but he had already made a run for the door, his cheeks red and his eyes crinkling.

She stared at his back, her eyes refusing to move from his figure until the door swung shut behind Eris. Her lips twitched, and she shook her head, biting her lips to try to stop herself from grinning like an idiot in love.

It was of no use, of course.

Because she was, after all, an idiot in love.

°•°•°•○🌑○•°•°•°

Remember me Taglist: @holb32 @awoa1 @cleverzonkwombatsludge @luvmoo

@we-were-beautiful @eerievixen @zoe2 @fussel9913

@j-pendragonx @thesnugglingduck @jesssicapaniagua @devilsnightz

@esposadomd @littleffawn @mandowhatnow @bubybubsters

@eos-princess @nightless @bigcreatorwombatdreamer @princesslolaasworld

@asemkta @cat-or-kitten @txzii @bunnyredgirl

@theofficialmadman @leeknows-wife @aria-chikage @amygdtjhddzvb

@azriels-mate123 @inky-clover @kemillyfreitas @12358

@justdreamstars @cuethedepession @princessvesta @fides25

@nocasdatsgay @acourtofbatboydreams @stained-glass-eyes0708 @glaciuswduo

@wallacewillow0773638 @cassie6392 @quackitysdrugdealer @txzii

@anuttellaa @coisas-da-dani @hnyclover @sassyslytherinshai

@historygeekqueen @why4anne @mybestfriendmademe @going-through-shit

@thisblogisaboutabook @thehighlordishere @hells-sluttiest-new-arrival @thena101

@azrielsmate3 @rcarbo1

[sasheemo]

When we collide

Chapter 5

Read on AO3

Fic masterlist

Chapter Summary: Agatha returns home from the forest with a new secret. While thoughts press at the back of your mind, you and your mother join the coven as it gathers in the crowded hall. Fleeting glances over bowls of soup stir emotions you’d rather ignore.

Word Count: 2.1k

A/N: Hey there! Hope you're all liking the story so far 💜 Btw I know in this chapter there is not that much A/R interaction. Initially the chapter was way longer but, because I am trying to have roughly the same word count in each chapter, I decided to split it. I guess you'll have to trust me on this one 😜

Agatha Harkness, the girl you barely used to think about, is now a relentless, and very much unwanted, presence in your mind. Frustration rises, and you shove the memory of her face to the back of your mind. She shouldn’t matter. She never has before, and yet here you are, feeling the weight of her words and glances more than you’d like to admit.

You take a deep breath, pushing yourself up from the bed. If you’re going to this coven thing, you might as well prepare yourself, perhaps find some semblance of calm. You draw a bath, letting the hot water fill the small wooden tub until it steams. The room warms with the scent of dried lavender and rosemary hanging from the rafters, and you allow the faint herbal fragrance to draw you away from the chaos of recent days. As you slip into the water, the warmth engulfs you, soothing your tired muscles. You close your eyes, feeling the heat seep into your skin, untying the knots in your shoulders, loosening the tension that has been building since yesterday. For a moment, you can almost pretend that nothing has changed—that the forest is still yours, untouched and free of anyone else’s chaos.

But as you lean back, eyes closed, Agatha’s image flits across your mind again. Somehow, she’s woven herself in there like an unwelcome shadow. Angrily, you try to banish her from your thoughts, focusing instead on the water’s gentle lapping against your skin, on the scents that fill your lungs with each deep inhale.

Once the water has cooled, you step out and wrap yourself in a thick linen cloth, drying off as you prepare for the gathering. You open your wardrobe, and your hand immediately sets on the smooth fabric of a plain black dress. It’s simple and well-fitted, made of light wool with long sleeves and a round neckline tied with a thin leather lace that you choose to leave a little loose, letting both of its ends sit casually against your collarbone. You could pull it tight, as decorum would suggest, making the neckline neat and formal, but instead, you leave it undone just enough to feel like yourself. A small act of defiance in a world that expects you to be anything but.

Over the dress, you drape a dark blue cloak, the fabric pooling around your shoulders and the hood resting loosely on your upper back. You’ve always felt a particular fondness for cloaks with hoods, not because you always need to hide, but because you could if you wanted to. That quiet option, the choice to retreat into the shadows on your own terms, brings a sense of control, a shield against the world’s prying eyes.

As your hands move to fasten the cloak, you find yourself lingering on the image of the forest. It used to be your sanctuary—untouched, yours alone. But Agatha had invaded that space, not once, but twice, leaving you to be the one who walked away first each time. A sense of injustice rises in you, powerful and irritating. Why should you have to be the one who leaves? Why should she get to linger in the one place that has always felt like home to you?

The thought sits heavily on your chest, and you shake your head, trying to dismiss it. But the doubt that started to plague your mind yesterday after the incident remains: if the forest is no longer the place of peace it once was, will it ever be again?

Suddenly, as you’re absentmindedly fastening the thin silver clasp of your cloak, you hear your mother’s voice, sharp and impatient, calling from downstairs. “It’s time to go!” With a final glance at yourself in the mirror beside your bed, you gather your thoughts and head down. 

Agatha sits in the forest, the quiet that surrounds her feeling fragile, like it could shatter with the smallest movement, but the warmth of the little creature in her lap keeps her rooted to the spot. She certainly hadn’t expected the rabbit to approach her again, let alone come near enough to rest in her lap, but somehow she’s grateful for its presence, its silent, forgiving company.

She lifts the rabbit carefully, cradling it close to her chest. Her fingers graze its soft fur, and an unexpected tenderness rises within her. It feels foolish to feel attached, yet something in her can’t bear to leave it behind. She glances around, ensuring no one is near, before rising to her feet and slipping the rabbit into her worn canvas bag. “You are coming with me.” she whispers.

With a last look at the charred remains of her outburst, she turns and begins the walk home, clutching the bag tightly. The rabbit shifts inside, but she murmurs a soft reassurance, hoping it stays quiet. The path back to her house feels inexplicably longer today. When Agatha finally opens her front door, the inside is eerily quiet, that is until Evanora’s sharp voice rings out from the kitchen the second the door shuts closed. “Where have you been, Agatha?” her mother’s eyes are narrowed, assessing, a mix of anger and annoyance clear in her expression. “Do you have any idea what time it is? We’re due for the coven meeting, and you’re already late.”

Agatha swallows, keeping her voice steady, one hand subconsciously rushing to hide her bag further under her cloak. “I didn’t know there was a meeting today. You didn’t tell me.”

Evanora scoffs, crossing her arms. “It’s been decided this morning but I shouldn’t have to tell you. You should know when you’re expected to be present.”

Ignoring her mother’s reproach, Agatha glances toward the stairs. “I’ll be quick. Just let me change.”

She turns and slips away before Evanora can say another word, her heart pounding as she ascends the stairs, each step feeling like a race against her mother’s scrutiny. Once in her room, she closes the door with a soft click and immediately opens her bag, lifting the rabbit into her hands. Its small body trembles as it adjusts to the new surroundings and Agatha gently strokes its fur, instantly met by a strange comfort in its warmth. She clears a small corner near her wardrobe, layering it with spare cloth to create a makeshift bed. Gently, she settles the creature into its new nest, her fingers lingering for a moment in a silent promise of safety. She can’t help but hope it will stay tucked away, shielded from her mother’s unyielding gaze.

With one last glance at the rabbit, she hurries to change into her formal dress, her fingers moving quickly overt he smooth buttons and fine stitching of her dark purple dress. The fabric, soft yet heavy, falls elegantly around her, with fitted sleeves that taper at her wrists and a high collar that lends an air of formality. Over her shoulders, she fastens a black hooded cloak, its material dense and cool to the touch, shrouding her in shadow.

Around her neck, Agatha clasps a delicate gold pendant, a small medallion inscribed with a protective rune she had crafted herself. She remembers the nights she spent, hidden away in her room up until early mornings, studying by candlelight a tome on runes she had secretly … borrowed from the coven’s grand hall. The process was grueling, the symbols complex, each line and curve requiring absolute precision. But she persevered, tracing and retracing the shapes until her fingers were cramped and her eyes ached. Finally, one night, she had inscribed the rune onto the pendant with practiced care, sealing her first true rune magic enchantment into gold. The medallion now rests close to her heart as she gently grazes it with her index finger, the reminder of a quiet victory.

Agatha stands ready but her mind races, both with thoughts of the gathering ahead and with the unexpected warmth that fills her as she looks once again at the small creature in the corner, a quiet companionship she hadn’t known she needed. For a moment, despite the rush, the heaviness of the long afternoon ahead seems to lessen.

You and your mother walk briskly through the village of Salem, her pace unwavering, her expression set in that familiar mask of determination. When you arrive at the gathering hall—a sturdy building of dark wood and stone, its walls blackened by time and the few shafts of light barely reaching the high-beamed ceiling—you feel the air shift. Inside, the faint scents of dried herbs, incense, and melted wax mingle together, grounding you in the tradition that fills this place.

The room is alive with murmurs, a soft undercurrent of voices that echo off the walls as witches of all ages stand in small groups, their quiet conversations mixing in your ears. In a corner, a mother and her daughter stir a large pot of soup, a simple meal to warm those gathered here on such short notice. A line of people has already formed, each waiting patiently for their share.

Your mother leaves your side almost immediately. Without a word, she moves with purpose to join a nearby circle of witches engaged in quiet discussion. As you glance around, your gaze lands on Evanora, deep in conversation with a small group just a little way off. Her presence is unmistakable, commanding, even in casual conversation. The sight of her brings Agatha to mind immediately, and it’s only moments before you spot her in the food line, closer to the front.

She stands alone, a wooden bowl and spoon in her hands, waiting her turn. A sudden rumbling sound coming from your stomach reminds you that you haven’t eaten since last night. Quietly, you move to the nearby table, picking up a wooden bowl and spoon for yourself before joining the line, glad for the people separating you and Agatha.

As you wait, your attention drifts to the woman serving the soup, a familiar face in Salem—a witch whose skill with potions has made her somewhat well-known in the village. When Agatha steps forward, the girl’s entire demeanor shifts: her eyes brighten, her posture softens, and she smiles just a bit wider, a hint of something almost playful on her lips.

You’re too far to make out any words they exchange, but you notice how the girl leans in slightly and how her fingers brush over Agatha’s as she hands back the bowl, the touch lingering a heartbeat longer than necessary. Agatha, for her part, doesn’t seem as engaged, responding with a few brief words and a polite nod, her expression unreadable. But the other girl’s interest is unmistakable, her gaze follows Agatha even after she’s moved aside, lingering in a way that feels almost intimate, something close to admiration written plainly across her face.

A strange sensation twists in your chest as you witness the scene, an uncomfortable, unwanted tension. You push the feeling down, telling yourself it doesn’t matter, even as it lingers, sharp and insistent. Then, finally, it’s your turn. You accept the ladle of soup from the woman and you thank her, its warmth radiating through the bowl as you step aside, seeking a place to sit. You find an empty bench and settle down, grateful for the solitude. You’re halfway through your meal when the sound of Evanora’s voice cuts through the room, commanding attention.

Your mother appears at your side almost instantly, her expression steely as her gaze sweeps over you. “That’s enough.” she snaps, voice low but sharp. “Stop dawdling and pay attention. Come, you’ll sit up front with me.” Her tone is icy, leaving no room for objection, as though your place beside her is a matter of necessity rather than choice. The words are a command, edged with impatience, leaving no room for argument.You bite back a retort and set your bowl aside, standing to follow her. 

She leads you to the third row, where you settle yourself, barely containing your irritation as her presence at your side feels like a weight pressing you into place. Her attention is fixed on the front of the room as Evanora steps forward, her voice cutting through the low murmur of conversation, calling the meeting to order. A hush falls over the room, and you force yourself to focus, feeling the heavy atmosphere settle around you. 

Everyone turns toward the front, where the discussion will begin, and as you look forward, your eyes land on Agatha. There, in the first row—a stark reminder of her status—she sits a little to your left, her back to you. Only a single row separates you, and yet somehow, she feels worlds away.

[queenshelby]

Our Little Secret (Part 61)

Pairing: Cillian Murphy x Reader

Warning: Infidelity, Age-Gap, Triggers, Smut

After the initial shock of the night, Mara had recovered quickly and, about ten days after the incident, you found yourself packing some bags to take Mara onto her first trip since you separated from Cillian.

You were going to visit him after all, in Liverpool, for an entire week while he was filming so that he could spend some time with Mara.

The idea was for you to stay in a separate unit with Mara, inside the apartment/hotel building rented out for the cast and crew and seeing that Cillian was an executive producer on the movie, he did not need approval for this.

"Nappies, check," you murmured under your breath as you walked through your house, making sure you had everything you needed for the trip. "Wipes, check," you muttered again, ticking off the items in your head.

"Toys, change of clothes... I think that's everything," you said to no one in particular before making your way back to Mara who was playing quietly on the floor while your best friend Emma roamed through your closet.

"How about this? Or that? Or maybe both?"  Emma suggested, holding up a silky black blouse and a pair of distressed jeans.

You couldn't help but laugh at her enthusiasm. "Em, I am not going out to party while I am away. I am going there so that Mara can see her dad and spend some time with him," you said, shaking your head as you turned to face her.

Emma held up her hands in surrender, a sheepish look on her face. "Okay, okay. I got it. No partying. Just quality time with your baby daddy and Mara. Got it," she said, smiling brightly before pulling out some lingerie.

"How about this then?"  Emma suggested, holding up a lacy bra and panty set. "I mean, it's still part of quality time with your baby daddy, right?" she winked at you playfully.

"Oh god, no! I am not going down that route again,  Em! Cill and I are in a good place right now I think, and I am not planning on rocking the boat just because I want to get laid," you said , turning your nose up at the lingerie.

Emma raised her eyebrows at you, completely taken aback by your response. "Alright then, okay. No funny business while you're away," she said, trying not to laugh while you quickly disappeared into the bathroom to pack your toiletries and escape the conversation.

Just as you were in the bathroom however, Emma grabbed the lingerie and shuffed it into the suitcase, right beneath one of your favorite jumpers, just in case you changed your mind.  "Okay, I think that's everything now. Thanks for helping me Emma," you called out, emerging from the bathroom and taking one more look through the room. Mara was still quietly playing on the floor, seemingly unbothered by the chaos around her.

"It's no problem, happy to help. Plus, it's not like I have anything else to do today. I am sick of my folks after moving back in with them. They have been a nightmare to deal with," Emma continued. Her words echoed off the walls of the bedroom, a testament to the pent-up frustration simmering beneath her surface.

"Are they still fighting?" you asked with some concern, seeing how her parents have had a troubled relationship with each other.

" I wish I could say no, but unfortunately, yes. The same old arguments about my dad not being present enough for them or about his drinking sometimes. It's like a broken record. I really wish something would change," Emma admitted, her voice tinged with sadness and frustration. 

"I know this might not be of much help long term, but you could stay here if you like, especially while I am away, and even after I come back, if you don't mind some sleepless nights of course,"  you offered, hoping that this might alleviate some of the stress that Emma was dealing with.

Emma's eyes lit up at the offer, but then they clouded with guilt. "I can't impose on you like that, Y/N. You have Mara to take care of now and having me stay here would only make things more complicated. I don't want to intrude," she said, biting her bottom lip nervously.

"You wouldn't be intruding at all," you assured her, putting a comforting hand on her shoulder.

"I insist. It would be great to have some company, and you wouldn't have to deal with your parents' arguments all the time. Plus, I know how much you love Mara and me of course," you winked and Emma hesitated, looking conflicted for a moment before ultimately giving in to the idea. "Alright, I'll take you up on the offer," she said, finally relenting. "But I'll contribute in any way I can.

I'll help with the groceries, or cook dinner, or even babysit Mara so you can go out and have some time for yourself," Emma offered, a sincere expression on her face and, with that, you found yourself a temporary roommate. 

***

The following day, your new roommate even drove you and Mara to the airport

, This was the first time you were flying alone with Mara, even if it was only for a short trip. As the plane took off and you felt the familiar sensation of weightlessness, Mara gripped your hand tightly, a nervous grin on her face. You couldn't help but smile back, feeling a wave of protectiveness and love wash over you.

Cillian was waiting for you at the arrivals gate, a huge grin on his face when you emerged, bundled up against the cold Liverpool air.  He had managed to take half the day off, rescheduling some of his scenes to another day, which was something that wasn't easy to do. 

"Hey there, munchkin," he said, kneeling down to Mara's level and giving her a gentle hug. Mara giggled and wriggled, calling out 'dada', in her stroller, clearly thrilled to see her dad.

"Hey," you responded, feeling a little shy all of a sudden. You weren't sure why - you and Cillian had been on good terms now. But something about the way he was looking at you, with those intense blue eyes and that little crooked smile, made your heart skip a beat. Or maybe it was the haircut which, to you, looked fabulous on him. 

"Hey you," he responded, his voice soft and gentle, before giving you a hug as well. "Thank you for coming. I really appreciate it," he  smiled at you, his hand lingering on the small of your back as he guided you towards the carousel to pick up your luggage. The gesture was comforting and familiar, and you couldn't help but feel a sense of relief wash over you as you realized how much you had missed Cillian's presence in your life with all that chaos between you and him having been away filming. 

As you navigated through the bustling airport, you couldn't help but notice how many people were staring at Cillian. It wasn't surprising, of course - he was incredibly attractive, with his Tommy haircut and chiseled jawline. Plus, he was rather famous obviously, which made you feel a little more self-conscious than usual.

"So, where to first? The hotel or the park with Mara?" Cillian asked as you made your way towards the baggage claim, Mara babbling happily in her stroller.

"Why don't we head to the hotel first and then go from there? That way Mara can take a little nap," you suggested, giving him a grateful smile.

Cillian nodded in agreement, "That sounds like a good idea, although I don't think the unit will be ready until 3 o'clock," he mentioned before grabbing two of the bags and leading the way out of the airport and towards the taxi stand. 

"That's fine, she can have a snooze on your bed. We just need to watch her," you told him  as you settled into the taxi, buckling Mara in beside you.

"I suppose that will work," he said before giving Mara a kiss on her forehead.  In that moment, you felt a surge of profound emotion, a warm, fuzzy feeling of happiness and contentment mixed with a dash of anxiety and uncertainty. You didn't know how this reunion with Cillian would play out, but you hoped that you could put aside your differences and make the most of the time you had together, again, for Mara's sake.

After the taxi dropped you off at the hotel and apartment building, Cillian led the way to the reception desk, where he enquired about the unit for you and, much to his surprise, the receptionist had some bad news.

"Uhm, I am so sorry Mr Murphy, but I actually left a message for you an hour ago as it appears that we are overbooked due to the change in schedule on BBC's other studio show,"  she said apologetically.

"What do you mean you're overbooked? I booked this apartment last week and you confirmed the availability," Cillian replied, clearly annoyed at the news, but remaining polite. 

"I understand, and I apologize, but it appears that we had an internal mix-up and double-booked the apartment," she explained.

Cillian sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, looking like he wanted to be anywhere but there. "What are our options?"

"Well, we do have a few other apartments available at our other hotels, on Banks Street and Maitland Road, but it's about half an hour from here,"  the receptionist said, looking uncomfortable at the prospect of disappointing Cillian.

Cillian looked at you, annoyed but also resigned, but you immediately shook your head.

"No, that would mean less time for Mara with you. It's totally impractical," you told him, seeing how his filming schedule was going to be so busy and neither him nor Mara should be thrown out of their schedules in order to travel this distance every day.

"Can't you put an extra bed into his apartment? I am happy to sleep in the living room with Mara," you suggested to the receptionist, but Cillian shook his head.

"Well, let's check it out and see if we can come up with an idea, okay? It will be fine," you told Cillian, trying to reassure him with a soft smile and, sure enough, you came up with a solution after Cillian took you to his floor.

His apartment was small, but the couch was reasonably sized, so your idea was an obvious one. 

"Well, Mara can sleep in a cot in the living room with me and I will sleep on the couch. Easy," you told Cillian, trying to make it sound like it wasn't a big deal.

Cillian's jaw clenched for a moment and his eyes narrowed, "You're not sleeping on the couch, Y/N. I can."

You shook your head, "No, you're filming until late every night, you need your sleep. Despite, I don't mind. I have nowhere else to be during the day so I can catch up on any sleep I might be missing out on, and it will be a great week for Mara, seeing you every day," you smiled at him, but he shook his head again.

"No, how about we put a cot on the bedroom, and you sleep in the bed instead. I will take the couch. I insist,"  Cillian said, leaving no room for argument.

You sighed, knowing that it was futile to argue with him. Cillian could be incredibly stubborn when he wanted to be, and this was one of those times. "Okay, fine. We'll put a cot in the bedroom then," you confirmed, and he quickly made the call to reception. 

Tags:

@sunbeamseas @saint-ackerman @oatmealisweird @naxxsstuff @amanda08319 @r-m-cidnah @elysiannook @cillshot @infireddabdab @tastycakee @harrysbestiee @lilybabe22 @adalynlowell @henrywintersdearestgirl @ietss @thatgirlthatreadswattpad @ryiamarie @axionn

@nela-cutie @futurecorps3 @delishen @nosebleeds-247 @thirteenis-myluckynumber @gills-lounge @hjmalmed @lost-fantasy @tiredkitten @sidechrisporn @smallsoulunknown @charqing-qing @hopefulinlove @aporiasposts @shycrybaby @me-and-your-husband @hjmalmed @lacontroller1991 @galxydefender @aporiasposts

@galxydefender @hunnibearrr @saint-ackerman @lunyyx @gentlemonsterjennie1 @ihavealotoffandomssorry @nadloves @lost-fantasy @nolucesn@mcavoy-girl @hjmalmed @bloodybagels @obeyme4life @richiesgroupie @blushykiss @tatumrileyslover @teawithsatanx @orijanko @rhaenyra4ever @xcinnamonmalfoyx @budugu @nadloves @kmc1989 @bloodybagels @obeyme4life @richiesgroupie @forgottenpeakywriter @smailaway @sophiaaguirred @blondie-22

[coolnameloading]

Lute x Fem! Reader Part 2

Part 2 of Lute x Sinner Reader story yaaaay

Over the last few months, the hotel has been in what you can only describe as organized chaos. The hotel gained a new resident in Sir Pentious who was a spy for the Vee’s and then wasn’t or something. Charlie reassured you constantly that Pentious was not working for the Vee’s anymore and you had nothing to worry about.

But those sick fucks have been chasing you for longer than any of the other overlords so you’d rather be more safe than sorry. 

After that particular event, you started to feel less safe in the hotel. 

You heard Vox, he tried to infiltrate the only place where you’ve felt safe since you got to the literal hell hole and he tried to send in a fucking spy who Charlie just let walk in instantly after he had attacked the hotel twice.

Who knows what would have happened to you….all of you if Angel Dust hadn’t seen him planting those stupid cameras? 

You love Charlie, she’s nice and she gave you a place to stay. Being mad at her is like being mad at a puppy but all you could keep thinking about for the rest of the month was wondering if Vox saw you.

If the Vee’s know where you are.

If they’ll come looking for you.

What they might do to you if they do catch you.

You had a close call with Velvette one time and one time was enough for the rest of your afterlife. Bitch tried to color-match your fucking fur! You’re pretty sure the only reason you got away was because she was drunk off her British ass.

Vaggie could tell right away that there was something wrong with you and tried to reassure you.

“He didn’t see you Chesh”

She whispered approaching you slowly. 

“You don’t know that boss! What if he did? He could be on his way right now with the other two and he already beat the radio demon once! I need to lea-”

Vaggie cut off your rant by placing her hand on your shoulder gently and pushing you down to sit on the couch.

“Charlie and I wouldn’t let anything happen to you. We promised when you started staying here that we’d keep you safe and we will. You don’t need to run.”

“Thanks, boss… I’m sorry for freaking out. It just really shook me up, I guess.”

You mumbled out, blushing at how pathetic you sound. 

You may not remember much about your life but you’re pretty sure you died sometime in your 20’s. Yet here you are whimpering pathetically and having to get comforted over a fucking video camera. 

After that incident you became more jumpy, every sound put you on edge, and it was worse whenever you were around any form of technology that didn’t look like it was from before the 1980s.

The others tried their best to calm you down in their own ways. Angel Dust started leaving his phone in his room because you’d flinch every time he got a text or phone call from Valentino. 

“Don’t make a big deal outa it, he was annoying me too.”

Husk would keep your favorite booze on standby at all times, when you’d thank him he’d simply grin at you and say, 

“Us feline demons got to stick together.”

Alastor was happy to throw out any and every piece of technology that would make you tense up even slightly, which included most of Pentious’ weapons and very nearly his airship. 

He obviously wasn’t doing it for you but it still felt nice.

“Don’t worry my friend! I’ll happily get rid of these infernal contraptions! I’ve always believed they lacked class anyway.”

Pentious recognized his part in your new-found anxiety and tried to gain your trust by handing his machines to Alastor with many, many, many tears.

“I am more than happy to…give up my arsenal as an apology for invading your persssssonal boundariessss.” He’d hissed out while trying to hold his tears back.

You couldn’t really be mad at him after that.

Nifty even volunteered to go out and ‘hunt phones’ for you.

You said no but that didn’t stop her from bringing you the….remains of some people’s phones.

 “Sometimes I kill mother phones in front of their children as a warning to the other phones!”

“Niffty phones don’t have mothers.”

“Hehe, not anymore…”

Charlie was actually very happy to see how the others stepped in to help you and she was very proud of them even if their methods were…unorthodox.

But that lead her into a spiral. She was desperately trying to figure out why the hotel wasn’t working even though everybody showed considerable improvement.

This leads to her talking with her dad, which somehow leads to you being here in heaven.

“Um, boss why exactly am I here?”

You ask Vaggie nervously, glancing around at the pastel clouds around you. God you haven’t seen pastels in years.

Vaggie looks over at you and sighs, “Well Charlie figured you wouldn’t want to go out with the others and you wouldn’t like to stay in the hotel alone so this was the best option.”

You nod, understanding her point but on the other hand.

“And the…exorcists?”

Vaggie’s shoulders tense for a moment before she looks away from you and mumbles, “I have a feeling they won’t do anything even if we do run into them.”

You want to ask more questions but decide against it, today was stressful enough as it is without you asking stupid questions. 

“Whatever you say, boss.”

You whisper following behind Vaggie and Charlie as they enter the gates of heaven after another fucking song. 

Is it just you? Are you the weird one? Should you be singing more often?

The three of you follow behind the two seraphim, Emily and Sera, while they give you a tour of heaven. Charlie looks completely enamored by the place but Vaggie looks annoyed, as if the pastel clouds had offended her personally.

And you…well honestly you feel a little underwhelmed.

Heaven looks like a glorified mall so far, a mall with strippers because there are way more people walking around shirtless than you thought there would be. 

So you keep trailing behind Vaggie, Charlie, and the angels when you see someone who looks familiar.

She’s a cat demon like you, same color pallet and everything, except she seems much shorter and has a pair of pastel-blue angel wings coming out of her back.

You end up drifting away from the group and start following the small cat angel through the crowds. 

Eventually, you get close enough to reach out and tap her but when you’re about to get her attention you feel a firm hand on your shoulder and you get pulled away roughly and pinned to one of the walls.

You’re completely disoriented for a moment and then you hear a familiar annoying voice.

“Well, well, well look what the cat dragged in.”

You look up to see Adam and Lute, Adam has a wide smirk on his face and Lute looks….wow.

She’s not wearing her helmet so this time you get to admire her completely.

You’d probably be happier about her pinning you to a wall if she wasn’t also holding a giant spear to your neck.

Then again…-

Yeah, it’s still pretty hot.

[bunny-eats-fox]

chaos

- miyamura izumi

warnings: mostly fluff ; physical violence mentioned (hori against miyamura in the past, like a slap to the face and hitting him) ; comfort wc: 1074 an: now... i get it, slapping ppl as a comedic relief is v anime-esque and shouldn't be taken too srsly and all, BUT... her hitting him, biting him and slapping him constantly is just... blergh. i dont find it funny nor cute n bc of that, here are my two cents how it could "affect" him bc i am a writer and i interpret way too much into everything especially regarding my favs... have fun!

__________________________

Your day had been a catastrophe.

Your toxic boss yelled at you in front of everyone for a mistake that he did but blamed you for. Your heel broke off on the way home which made you stumble and drop the phone you always held in your hand, onto the concrete. This incident in turn, made you late for your commute home and the bus drove off the moment you rushed around the corner. And, if all of that didn’t already had you clenching your teeth and clutching your purse tight to your chest to not burst into tears, a crow then decided to relieve itself onto your shoulder, staining your brand-new blazer.

Safe to say, when you came home, Miyamura’s “Welcome back.” immediately got stuck in his throat when he saw you: Exhausted and on the verge of tears.

“How about you take a nice, long and hot shower and then we eat on the sofa tonight, hm?” That was all he said and you, sniffling, just nodded and limped away to your bathroom to clean the poop off of your blazer and wash away that horrible day.

You were thankful and content when you managed to just snuggle up against your boyfriend and enjoy the meal that he cooked. It was a quiet dinner while you watched TV and when you were done, you left the dishes on the living room table and just cuddled and enjoyed his company.

But then…

It was a minor accident.

So small, in fact, that it was wasted energy to even think twice about it.

Yet, that small thing finally set you off.

Izumi reached out to grab his glass, but, as he looked at the TV, he somehow managed to knock it over. All of it spilled over the table and your legs.

Was it hot and burned you? No.

Was it something sticky and gross? Also no.

Yet, that one, additional tiny inconvenience broke the camel’s back and you started bawling the moment the mere water dripped down your legs.

Once you started crying, you also started yelling at him for not being careful, for being so clumsy and how horrible your day was. Meanwhile, Izumi, who had already apologized and patted your legs dry with some paper towels, just let you vent.

Now. You were someone who had always talked with your hands. You gestured with your hands greatly no matter what you talked about and with what kind of emotion. Izumi knew that. Though, you had only dated for a few mere months at that point and he hadn’t heard you yelling and crying like that before. It did remind him of someone and he thought he knew what to expect.

Hence, when you finally turned to face him and you raised your hands for another big gesture, you were taken aback for a second and even stopped mid-sentence. Miyamura, who had flinched and visibly moved his head sideways with his eyes closed, looked like he awaited a punch or something. His reaction felt like someone had punched you though. Did he really think you would… hurt him like that?

Immediately, you started to consciously control your breathing to calm down again. This was no time to get so angry over something so small. Especially because to you, his reaction was concerning.

“I-I’m sorry. I totally overreacted.”, your voice shook still, “I had such… a horrible day today and… then this happened and… and I’m so sorry for blowing up like that because of… some stupid water. I’m sorry, Izumi.”, your voice broke at the end and you only whispered the last words as another unwanted sob escaped your lips, yet you still took deep breaths to calm down.

“No, it’s okay, please, don’t apologize. It was my fault I spilled water all over you. You can still hit me if you want.”, he immediately said and hugged you tightly afterwards.

“What?! No!”, you cried and pushed him away just enough to look at him, “Why would I do that? I would never. I do gesture a lot with my hands, so I’m sorry if it looked like it, but I could never. I love you, I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Oh…Right.” Izumi looked truly baffled by that for a few moments. As if you had just told him you found the 8th wonder of the world.

“I’m sorry, (Y/n) I think… I’ve just gotten used to it.”, he laughed uncomfortably as he didn’t really know how to properly react now.

You just wondered what the hell his past girlfriend did to make him get used to getting hit in the face…

“Geez… don’t get used to that. That’s not okay.”, you whined and then jumped into his arms again, burying your face into the crook of his neck while you hugged him tight.

Miyamura didn’t know how to properly answer that, so all he did was hum in approval and squeeze you tightly. He, himself, didn’t even think that the hitting thing his past girlfriend used to do would even affect him. However, when he saw your big hand gestures, a sense of familiarity shot through his body and he physically got ready for another slap to the face… Hence, when you apologized and told him you would never do that, he was so surprised and speechless, since he was used to being blamed and apologizing for everything.

When you let go of each other, your tears had finally dried and you could smile a little again.

“Thank you and I’m sorry. You cooked for me and everything and I yelled at you like that over something so stupid. Can you forgive me?”

“Of course. I know you had an atrocious day, so that was just the last thing that pushed you over the edge. Don’t even think about it anymore.”, he reassured you and gently, but also teasingly, pinched your cheeks.

“Mn. Thank you. I love you.”, you leaned in to peck his lips.

Izumi quickly reacted and didn’t just let you escape like that, instead, he followed your movement to kiss you properly after he returned those sweet words, thus making you both fall back onto the sofa. Certainly, at that point and after all the things that had happened today, all you both needed were a tight embrace and some kisses and cuddles. And you, as well as your boyfriend, very happily provide those for each other.

__________________________

all characters canonically under 18 are always aged up ; english is not my native language so i apologize for any mistakes ;

[milaisreading]

Plushie incident in the morning

Pairing: Various Blue Lock x Reader

Warnings ⚠️: none in particular, Y/n uses she/her here. Reader is 18 here.

Summary: The Blue Lock project was both a pretty big success in the football world, but also with the fans who were watching it through the TV. Enter Anri introducing new merch not only in the form of the players, but also of their manager, (Y/n) (L/n). Everything was fine until the players came across the plushie. Chaos starts and Ego is regretting ever agreeing to this project.

It was a quiet and normal morning at the Blue Lock building, the players were still asleep, Ego was preparing some new exercises for them and (Y/n) was running some errands Anri asked her to. All in all, it was a really normal and boring morning for the (h/c) girl... until it wasn't.

Anri had given her the task to bring a box into Ego's office, this one she didn't recognize as one from their usual suppliers. So when she entered Ego's office, where he was talking about something with Anri, (Y/n) couldn't help but let her curiosity show.

"Teieri-san, Ego-san what is this thing about? Some new equipment?"

The two adults looked up at (Y/n) and the woman smiled brightly, running to where she was and taking the box from her.

"No, this is actually some of the new merch we are introducing today!"

"Merch? We are starting merch now?" (Y/n) asked confusedly then looked at Ego as Anri ignored her.

"This wasn't my idea, but JFU. If you asked me, you all are trash for merch."

"We?! What did I do?!" (Y/n) asked, offended at the man lumping her in with the rest.

'I didn't even do anything!'

"You are in this too! A lot of the watchers have a soft spot for you and in a survey JFU had, the fans really want merch of you too."

"O-oh..." Was the only response that came from (Y/n), who was embarrassed and flattered by Anri's claims.

Once the woman had opened the box, Ego and (Y/n) peeked inside, only to find plushies of the players.

"They are so adorable!" Anri exclaimed, rummaging through it.

"Found it! This is yours!" (Y/n) looked in disbelief at the item in Anri's hands. It was an exact replica of her in the staff uniform, just smaller and softer. It was creepy how well they replicated her. Same shade of (h/c) hair, same (e/c) color and a small smile adoring the plushie's face as it held a small (f/c) football.

"And what am I supposed to do with this now?" The girl wondered as Anri handed it to her.

"I don't know? Keep it in your room or something, the rest will probably do the same with theirs."

'This is so weird. I bet Baro will make fun of this.' (Y/n) thought, mentally preparing herself for the taller's words.

"Alright. Now that this is out of the way, go and do your duties. It's nearly 8 o'clock, the players will have to be awakened soon too." Ego clapped his hands, bored with the conversion the two had.

"Alright..." Anri sighed and (Y/n) said her goodbyes before walking out.

'This wasn't something I expected to wake up to.' She thought, looking down at the plushie, which was smiling up at her.

Carrying the basket with the uniforms all washed and ready for use, (Y/n) opened the door to the room all the current players shared.

"Wake up, unpolished gems! Time for breakfast and then off to training!" Ego's voice from the speakers boomed as (Y/n) heard the players groan, asking for a few more minutes.

"No." The girl held back a laugh from Ego's answer and put down the basket neat the door.

"Wake up, guys! Your uniforms are here too!"

"Nooo..."

"Just a few more minutes..."

"This is such a hassle."

The girl was about to speak up again, when one of the staff members from down the hall called for her.

"Coming!" She yelled, closing the door behind herself, completely forgetting she left her plushie on top of the basket.

Silence fell again and the players sighed in relief, thinking they got what they asked for. Gagamaru turned around in his futon to look at the door, inspecting the area.

'There is the basket with our uniforms... a (Y/n) pluahie... the door-'

The white/black haired player blinked as he looked at the basket again, the slowly sat up and rubbed his eyes.

"Am I hallucinating?" The boy wondered, getting up and walking to the basket, grabbing the soft item.

"It's soft too... but why does it look like (Y/n)?" The boy muttered, walking back to his futon, bot breaking eye contact with the inanimate object.

'Whoever made this was spot on. The plushie looks just as adorable and sweet as (Y/n).' Gagamaru thought, blushing a little as he patted its head.

"Did Ego-san and (Y/n) that easily give up on waking us up?" Isagi wondered as both him and Bachira stretched out.

"I hope so. I am still tired from yesterday." Chigiri yawned as Kunigami took of his covers.

"Hey!" Chigiri yelled as he sat up quickly, not liking how cold it felt.

"You all are so noisy, can't you be like Gagamaru a little bit?" Baro said, pointing at the said boy, who didn't even answer or look at him.

"What are you holding?!" Bachira suddenly yelled, getting up from his futon and running to the former Team Z member, who was by now pinching the plushie's cheek.

"Bachira! Shut up!" Reo yelled, making Karasu and Nagi wince at the loudness.

"You are all annoying." Otoya sighed as Kurona tried to slap his arm away.

Bachira ignored them as he inspected the small plushie in Gagamaru's hands, his grin widening when he realized who it was and he quickly took it from the boy.

"Adorable! Is this (Y/n)?! Where did you get it, Gagamaru?!"

"Hey, give it back." Gagamaru protested, upset that Bachira took the soft item like that.

'I found it first.' He pouted.

"I just want to see~"

Bachira said,annoyed that he didn't get to it first. Chigiri, Kunigami and Isagi look at the duo in confusion as the rest blinked in alarm at the mention on the manager's name.

"What do you have there?" Isagi said, getting up rather guickly as he inspected the item, recognizing the (h/c) hair. Chigiri, being a speedster, was already next to Bachira and took the item as he and Gagamaru argued over the toy.

"I found it first! Give it back to me."

"No! It's adorable just like (Y/n), I want to keep it."

Chigiri moved away a little and inspected the toy, a fond smile making its way on his face while Kunigami and Isagi were on either side of him, blinking down at the plushie.

"How did this come into our room? And why does it look like (Y/n)?" Isagi wondered, his hands trembling to grab it from Chigiri.

"I don't know, she doesn't seem like the person to buy stuff of herself." Kunigami answered back, blushing a little as he tried to grab it from Chigiri. But the boy as fast as he is, hugged it to his chest and dodged Kunigami.

"Hey!"

"We don't know why it's here, and for all we know it could be important to (Y/n). So in any case we should be gentle with it." Chigiri argued as the other 4 nodded their heads.

"Now that we have established that, I will claim it as mine till (Y/n) returns." The red head announced proudly, which caused the other others to glare at him.

"No way! Chigiri, I am by far the gentlest among you! I should take care of her!" Isagi said back, walking closer to his friend. Kunigami shook his head, equally annoyed at Chigiri's claim on the (Y/n) plushie.

"You are both being childish. Chigiri, I am the strongest of you all, I would do a better job in protecting (Y/n). Give me."

'Why does it sound like they are arguing over the real person? What is even going on?' Reo rubbed his eyes as he walked over to them.

"Hey! I found her first, Bachira stole her."

"I didn't steal! I was just faster!" Gagamaru and Bachira glared at each other. Using the distraction, Reo grabbed the plushie and turned away from the group.

"You all are acting rediculous over a stupid plush toy. Are you children or something-" Reo stopped in his tracks as he looked down at said item. The more he inspected the thing, the more he realized it looked just like the real (Y/n), just smaller. Blushing, he grabbed tightly onto it as Kunigami attempted to take it from him.

"On second thought, I think she would be much safer in my mansion."

"What?! Give her back!" Bachira grinned like a maniac as Nagi finally got up to look at the plushie as well. The boy looked in boredom for a few seconds, then nodded his head.

"Reo will buy it from you guys." Nagi said simply as the purple haired boy handed the plushie to him.

'So soft. Feels like that one time I fell asleep on her.' Nagi thought, hugging the toy protectively.

By now the chaos caught everyone else's attention as well, and the players tried to get a glimpse of the smaller (Y/n) as well.

"How much do you want? A thousand? Hundred thousand? Million Yen? Just say and it's yours." Reo argued, pissing the former Team Z members off even more.

"No! Now give me (Y/n) back, I laid my claim on her first!" Chigiri yelled.

"She isn't yours! Nagi, hand her over." Bachira yelled trying to jump at the white haired boy.

"Hmm? No, I like her here. Besides, it reminds me of that one time I slept on her." Nagi said absent-mindedly.

"You what?! When did that happen?!" Isagi asked the boy.

"You remember the time Baro tripped me and I couldn't play?"

"Lucky... Couldn't you have injured me, Kunigami?" Chigiri pouted, earning a glare from the orange haired boy.

"Chigiri, you ungrateful piece of shit-"

Gagamaru kept quiet as he started sulking in the corner.

"But I found her first..."

Niko shook his head at their behavior and kept quiet, but still sent a few side glances the inanimate object in Nagi's arms.

"Hmm? Oh! The plushie really just like (Y/n), can I have it?" Karasu wondered as Otoya poked its cheeks, blushing at how cute it was.

'I basically poked (Y/n)! Now I can die happily!' Otoya thought as Nagi slapped his hand away and glaring at the duo.

"No. Mine."

"Nagi, we are sharing." Reo added, stopping is argument with Bachira and Isagi for a moment.

"All of you shut up!" Baro yelled, grabbing the toy forcefully from the tall genius.

"Hey!"

Baro rolled his eyes as he took a look at the doll along with Kurona, both blushing at the replica of their crus-friend!

"Give me." The red haired boy said, making grabby hands at the plushie, but Baro sent him a warning glare.

"Move it, peasant. I will take care of (Y/n), besides unlike all of you I can treat her like a queen."

"A queen? Really?" Kunigami rolled his eyes.

"Damn right, because I am the king!"

"More like a donkey." Isagi commented.

"Come on, we can't fight over a plushie like that. (Y/n) would probably think we are stupid." Yukimiya said, earning silent nods from the team.

"That's why I suggest you guys can have the (Y/n) plushie, and I will take the real (Y/n)." Yukimiya said, fixing his glasses.

"Where did that come from?!"

"Hell no!"

"If anything (Y/n) would look better with me!"

"You all are being rediculous. I should be with (Y/n) since I can offer her anything she desires."

"Respectfully, fuck off Reo!"

"No!"

"Shut up! All of you are loud!" The room fell quiet as everyone looked at the annoyed Rin as he approached them, observing the doll in Baro's hands.

"I am the number 1 player here. You lukewarms are no competition against me, so you better hand the plushie to me."

"Forget it!"

The chaos got louder and the noise caught both Ego's attention from the office, and Anri's who was nearby. Inspecting through the camera, Ego facepalmed when he noticed they were fighting over that doll.

'I knew this was a mistake.'

Anri opened the door as Ego's voice boomed through the room, making everyone freeze up.

"What is going on here! I called you all to train on not fight over a plushie like a bunch of kids." The boys stopped and looked at the speakers, a little embarrassed by the fact that Ego caught them.

"Anri, confiscate that plushie. Don't even give it to (Y/n), she will probably forget it again somewhere."

"Alright!" The woman sighed, walking over to Baro and taking it from him. The boys deflated a little as they looked at the doll in Anri's hands and Ego sighed in annoyance.

"Whoever performs the best today will get the plushie tonight."

That part caused the players to perk up a little.

"Alright! That will be me then!" Bachira yelled.

"No, me! My special awareness will come in handy today!" Isagi argued.

"You lukewarm striker will not even be able to get to the goal."

Anri rolled her eyes at the argument and she knew she had to stop it before Ego has another tantrum.

"If you so much want a plushie of (Y/n), Blue Lock's website will launch it today. It's just some limited merch offer tho~"

With a laugh, Anri was out the door as the boys looked at her dumbfounded for a moment, then each took their phones.

"What a great day to be rich." Reo muttered as Nagi sent him a look.

"You better order me one too."

The same night the whole room was sending death glares towards Gagamaru as Anri handed him the plushie. He was today the top scorer and the only one who kept his peace during practice, much to Ego's delight. (Y/n) was for the whole day confused where she had left the doll and asked everyone around the building, but nobody knew.

'Maybe someone threw it away.' She shrugged and went on with her night routine. She somehow hoped the plushie of her would not do well and they won't use her face for these merch launches, but...

"Why are there so many boxes?! What did you guys even order?" (Y/n) questioned a few days later as the boys looked excitedly at them, but refused to open.

"Ohhh no reason! By the way, how did your merch do?" Bachira wondered.

"For some odd reason it went well. Just my luck..." (Y/n) said in annoyance, still unsure how her plushie did better than any of the others.

[lovely-peace]

The Whims of Fate

Summary: The big game is coming up and you can't wait to see Sirius fly again. But he seems to be more excited for after the game and just before that he surprises you... While seraph has an internal crisis.

Pairing: Sirius black x hufflepuff!reader

Warnings: past toxic friendship, past toxic relationship (not with the reader), insecurities, self conscious , fake dating

Wc: 2.5k anyone who wants to be tagged, just say so there is always room! And I am sorry if my writing isn't as good in this part :')

Masterlist

Prologue Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

As we entered the Great Hall for lunch, I could feel the tension still lingering in the air. Sirius was walking beside me, his steps purposeful but his expression stern. The incident with Leander had left him seething, and it was evident in the way he clenched his jaw and the occasional glares he shot in the direction of the Slytherin table.

I glanced at him from the corner of my eye, unsure of how to address the situation. It was clear that he was trying to maintain composure, but the anger was simmering just beneath the surface. I knew he wasn't upset with me, but I couldn't shake off the uneasiness.

As we settled at the Gryffindor table, I tried to focus on my plate of food, but the tension was palpable. Sirius seemed lost in his thoughts, and I felt like an intruder in his world of frustration. The conversations around us were a mere buzz, distant and unimportant compared to the storm within.

Then, a soft nudge against my shoulder brought my attention back to reality. I turned to see Sirius looking at me, his expression slightly softened. He offered me a small, reassuring smile. "Sorry about earlier. I didn't mean for things to get that heated."

I managed a weak smile in return. "It's alright, Sirius. I understand why you were upset."

He nodded, his gaze lingering on me for a moment before he turned his attention back to his food. Despite his attempt to make amends, I could sense the turmoil still swirling within him. It was as if he was battling his emotions, struggling to find a balance between his protective instincts and his desire not to cause further stress.

As I ate my meal, I couldn't help but steal glances at him. He was so beautiful. How could anyone be so beautiful?

He was putting on a facade of nonchalance, but his clenched fists and furrowed brows betrayed his true feelings. I wished there was something I could do to ease his anger, to let him know that I appreciated his concern.

Meanwhile, a little bit right from us, I noticed Lydia and Maya engrossed in a hushed conversation. Lydia's animated gestures and Maya's attentive nods suggested that they were deep in thought about something. I wondered what they were discussing, but my focus was quickly pulled back to Sirius when he spoke again.

"Are you nervous about the game?" he asked, his tone softer now.

I shook my head, grateful for the change of topic. "Not really. I mean, you are the one playing, so I don't really feel the pressure here. But, I'm excited to watch you play."

He smirked playfully. "Planning to cheer for me?"

I rolled my eyes, trying to lighten the mood. "Maybe I'll just shout 'Sirius Black, you're not as cool as you think!'"

He chuckled, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "Oh, you wound me."

We shared a genuine laugh, and for a moment, the tension seemed to lift. It was as if we had managed to carve out a small bubble of normalcy in the midst of the chaos. As lunch continued, our conversation flowed more easily, and I found myself forgetting the unease that had gripped me earlier.

Unbeknownst to us, Lydia and Maya were observing our interaction from afar, their heads close together as they exchanged whispered thoughts. Maya nodded at something Lydia said, and they seemed to be sharing some sort of silent agreement.

Later, as we made our way out of the Great Hall, I caught a glimpse of Lydia's mischievous smile. She winked at me, and I couldn't help but wonder what they were plotting.

As we went on, I couldn't help but look after them. I wondered if they would talk about their feelings, or if they would just ignore what was so obviously there.

"Oh, shit!" Sirius looked at me with an apologetic frown. "I already have to go, because James wants to go over the planning we did. Hope you can forgive me."

I smiled at him. He looked so apologetic like a little puppy that disappointed someone. "Don't worry, I understand. Go you have a game to win!"

He smiled at me and ran up to the field, while I watched him go. Without him, the halls felt empty and at the same time overwhelming full.

I already wanted to leave to the library, because we still had time till the game, when I saw Sirius ran up to me.

He was panting heavily and red like a tomato as he stood before me, like he just played the quidditch game of his life.

"What's wrong? Did you forget something?" I felt like I was missing something here, as he took my hands and smiled at me with a red face.

"Yeah, I forgot something very important." He hold my hands tightly and looked me in the eyes. Something plagued his mind and I so desperately wanted to know what. But it remained a secret behind those beautiful eyes.

"What did you-"

"Wish me luck." he suddenly said. His eyes were avoiding mine and suddenly found the ground very interesting. "Please?"

"You don't need luck," I replied softly, my voice filled with faith in him.

He chuckled, his fingers briefly intertwining with mine. "Maybe, but a little extra never hurts."

I chuckled at that. His eyes found mine and sucked me into them again. His right hand let go of mine and wandered off to my cheek. As he hold me captive in his warm touch, he seemed to beg for something.

"Good l-"

Then, in that moment, when I least expected it, he closed the gap between us, his lips capturing mine in a kiss. It was an innocent little peck, like he didn't want to do anything wrong. Time seemed to stand still as our lips molded together, and the world faded away. All that mattered was the sensation of his mouth moving against mine, the taste of his lips, and the rapid beat of my heart, which seemed to run a marathon.

He stroked my cheek while softly breaking the kiss. I missed the contact, but was at the same time overwhelmed by the thing that just happened.

He gazed into my eyes, a fire burning within them. "For luck," he whispered, his voice husky.

My cheeks flushed, and I nodded, my voice equally breathless. "For luck."

We stood like that, with intertwined fingers and gazing at each others eyes, for a minute or two, as he cleared his throat.

"I should go."

"Yeah, you should."

But neither of us wanted to let go of each other, our fingers still intertwined. But after one more minute he let go and smiled at me, with this unreadable expression that so often visited his face.

"I will see you after the game right?" he asked and smiled brightly, as I nodded.

"Then see you later, darling."

I looked after him and couldn't control the smile that was slowly creeping on my red face.

You don't need luck, you idiot. I know that you will win. I saw it with my own eyes.

---

~1974 Third year. ~

The little girls eyes were shining as she watched. 'Was this fake?' she wondered as her eyes followed his broom. His flying hair in the wind, his bright smile as he beat the ball at one of his opponents and lastly his promising eyes. All of it was beautiful.

The seeker in red should have been the main attraction for the audience, but his best friend was like a shooting star for her. Bright, fast and so out of reach. Hoping he would grant her a wish, she looked at him with a wish written in her eyes.

As she wished for once to be noticed, the girl in green next to her followed her gaze. The girl was angry that her house was losing and she was even more pissed that she was here with her.

This naive girl in yellow, which didn't belong here between the people in green. This clingy parasite with this annoying expression. That begging look not to be abandoned, that made the girl in green reconsider.

Why did she even bring her?

Why was she even friends with her?

The girl in the warm colors of the sun, looked at the star of the field, again with this annoying expression. And the girl in green next to her was jealous as she realized how beautiful the emotions behind this gaze were. 'How can you feel this kind of emotions?'

As their eyes were focused on the star, his best friend's eyes caught the golden ball and his broom was racing towards it. The other seeker slowly realized why the boy was suddenly flying so fast and tried to follow just as fast. But he realized that it was no use. The feeling that he already lost was creeping in and he became even slower.

Then a ball hit him from above and threw him off his broom. The beater Sirius black took the chance to cover his mate. He dodged the ball himself and hit it right towards the green seeker.

"And James Potter caught the snitch!!!"

The Gryffindor audience burst into cheers, while the slytherins were glaring at them. The other beater in green was looking at the boy with the name black and wanted so bad to be better. "Next time you hit him leander." his teammates said, but they knew just like him that that was very unlikely.

The green side of the field was full of anger towards those red prideful bunch of kids, that were so obviously the favorites of hogwarts.

Only two girls seemed to be out of place.

They didn't cheer and they didn't get mad. They were both watching the boy in red and wished.

Yellow to be visible. Green to be yellow.

~~

I smiled, as I thought about the memories. The first game he played and the first I watched. I know that he doesn't need a Goodluck kiss.

I kissed you out of pure desire for you.

~~~

Meanwhile in the slytherin common room

"You are such an idiot, Leander, seriously. You don't stand a chance against Sirius, why did you search a fight with him?"

I shook my head at his silliness. How can someone be so impulsive?

"I just had a little 'talk' with your whisky. How could I have guessed that he would be so angry?" the brown haired boy looked away from me and seemed to pout.

A cold feeling went down my spine. I tried to shake it off, but it came right back. What was wrong with me? Why was I so cold?

"Hey, is something wrong, seraph?" Leander looked at me with worry in his eyes and came closer to me. "You looked like something plagued your mind?"

He seemed to want to stroke my cheek with his hand, but I dodged him. "It's nothing of your concern." I stated, and his hand dropped like a stone. He seemed embarrassed and looked at the ground.

"Sorry."

'Your whisky' he said. Like I owned her. Maybe I did, but not anymore. She is off and has new friends now. Every time I see them, I feel like I missed something in my life. Like I got all of this wrong. Like I got her completely wrong. Like I regretted what I did. What I still do.

Those feelings that she has. This joy that she feels, when she is with her friends. This excitement when she sees Sirius. I never felt any of that.

Why was I so bored of those people around me? Why couldn't I be excited for the things that I had? Why does she have this explosive feelings for Sirius, while I can't make myself feel even excitement?

"I wish I could say i'm surprised, but I'm really not. And that's the thing I most regret, seraph. We were never really meant to be." his eyes bore through mine. Ice-cold. "I think you know that as well."

"Do you miss her?" Leanders soft voice snapped me back to reality. His eyes were gentle, with this strange smile. It wasn't threatening, but I could never really interpret it and it made me crazy.

"Who, whisky?" I tried to laugh the cold feeling away. "Oh, please, why would I miss this parasite? I abandoned her in the first place, sweet Leander." I smiled my usual smile. The i don't care smile that made me feel better of myself. I need to feel better about myself.

He looked at me with that strange smile again. Like he knew me better than I know myself. But he really doesn't.

"You know what I think?"

I narrowed my eyes. "I don't really care."

But he didn't stop, like he didn't hear me. "I think you're starting to realize that you really care about her and you've lost her. I'm not saying she doesn't deserve it, she's a snake, but I think you're not so sure anymore and you miss her."

"You don't know anything!" But he did not let himself be stopped.

"You're not as untouchable as you think, 'sweet' seraph. In fact, you're still a little girl who whines when she doesn't get what she wants."

"Shut up!" I was screaming.

"That's why you ran after Sirius like a lost puppy. You just can't stand that he doesn't like you anymore."

"You have no idea, Leander! You have no idea how I feel!" Or what I don't feel. "So don't act like you really understand me."

He was quiet on that. But then he looked at me in such an intense way that Sirius never did. And my heart skipped a beat. Why? "Why did you make out with me if you love him so much? Why did you cheat with me if you miss him so much now?"

His gaze held me and there was a fire in them. The evening in which I let myself drown in self-pity came back, even though I tried so hard to forget it. Eventually, though, I managed to turn away. "You need to get to the quidditch field. It's getting late."

There was tension in the air at that, until he finally stood up. He grabbed his things he needed and went to the door, of the slytherin common room. Before he opened it, he looked at me.

"A little whining girl in green."

And then he left.

Taglist: @theofficialmadman@fanboyluvr@fjdjsiskcjfj@starsval@olkathedestroyer@helloitsmeeeeeee@xamapolax@maripositanoctruna@ancientimes@cloudlst@marina468 @regulus-black-223048 @loving-and-dreaming

[circeius-invidioso]

Have you ever wondered how fertile is each primarch?

No?

Well. I want to talk about it so why not? Who is going to stop me? God?

God is dead and I am eating his ashes. So without further ado.

To maximize the science of this post we will separate it into grades.

F for Fucking Hell Ahriman

Thousand Sons have the prestigious place of being dead last.

Why?

Cause a specific man I don't want to name any names decided to do something I won't mention incident and suddenly the already thin numbers of the legion decided to drop below the mariana trench.

Once the number was vibing with the deep sea fish, now its kissing goodnight the earth's core.

Magnus might be making a valiant effort but someone decided to perform-

You know what, god is dead but standards are not. I will not make that joke.

Moving on.

D for Deficient in Vitamin D

Night Lords, honestly, the only D that is plenty in the legion is dead serfs. They haven't seen a new brother in years...

Also they have the added bonus of the double d. A dead dad.

So they consistently suffer 3 type of d on the daily basis.

Raven Guard, yes? Yes. Moving on.

Salamanders, they strive for quality over quantity. Having a few sons isn't bad. Vulkan simply knows he weilds a weapon of mass destruction so he strategically deploys it.

Is that a d joke? I don't know. Do you pick up what I am putting down?

Please do otherwise it's littering.

C for Consistency

Alpha Legion, the only reason they are here is because they keep their numbers vague. But also they are like behind 90% of the conspiracies.

They might be 10 people with 1000 alter egos. I can't say.

I don't think they can either.

Iron Hands, one word that can describe Ferrus Manus is consistent. He died as he lived. Consistently average.

And I am allowed to make that joke because he is unironically my fave Primarch, and I am getting bullied for that every time I bring it up.

So in this case I am beating them to the race and bullying myself ahead of time.

Blood Angels, ever since the Angel died things had been rough.

Maybe things would have been better if they didn't yeet their brothers on those space hulks first chance they get.

I was going to make a joke but its too soon for that.

Too soon. It might have been 10k years since Sang die but the wound is still fresh.

B for Effort

Emperor's Children, why them? B for because they have so much potential. They can easily double their numbers if their Primarch put the chaos grass down.

Fulgrim is in the unique possition where he can, but sticks his seed in all the places except where it should be.

This isn't a intercourse joke people. Ok. I have some standards left.

Speaking of standards.

Iron Warriors, again. Much like his bestie. He has so much potential in increasing his numbers. But currently sits at the opposite side of the spectrum.

We are in the 41st millenia and Perty is too busy taste testing the oxygen in every room he goes in.

World Eaters, Angron coming in hot with an envious output. But sadly cannot make it in a higher tier because of his equally hot (if they died via fire) turnover rate.

You have to give it to him

cash or bank transfer I dont think he minds

he tries his best. Gold star. B for effort.

A for Astounding Output

Death Guard, Mortarian has been clocking in those extra hours. His harvest is quite plenty and boundiful every year.

Papa Nurgle puts Slaanesh to shame with this one.

Word Bearers, all I have to say is that in every book there is like a 60% chance you will come across a Word Bearer.

They are everywhere, I don't know what black magic he performs to achieve that-

It's almost like he consistently goes on pilgrimages and as a side hustle decided to spreads his seed-

...the math, starts to math up. Hold up.

Sons of Horus, Horus might be gone but Abaddon remains. And canonically (in the older editions) he was a clone of Horus.

So the Warmaster left in his stead the Warmaster travel size version. Now with more sons and more hair.

Which isn't hard because Horus was bald but anyway...

Did I add this just to share this useless factoid about Abaddon.

Yes.

Moving on.

Space Wolves, I mean... Russ. We know him. I don't think I need to explain myself further.

S for Shooting Like a Sprinkler

Imperial Fists- Black Templars is a thing. And it's a thing that abuses at least 3 loopholes at any moment to increase their numbers.

Ultramarines-

The lesson of this journey?

Yes.

[just-dreaming-marvel]

Are you team cap or iron man?

woah, loaded question lol

I believe that there were better ways to go about it from both sides.

I'm going to answer this with mostly Captain America Civil War in mind.

So here we go... (good luck)

I believe that Steve was incredibly selfish as soon as Bucky became involved and dragged people down with him. (Steve's actually a really selfish guy if you actually look at everything, but that's a whole other rant...)

I believe that Steve was too emotional and wasn't thinking fully since Peggy passed and Bucky became involved. He couldn't see past himself.

I believe that Tony signed the Accords due to all the guilt and he was honestly trying to make things better.

I believe that if they had ALL signed the Accords, they would have been able to negotiate and get the Accords amended over time as problems arose.

I believe that if they had all signed the Accords, the United Nations would have come to realize the mistake they made in the Accords and either amended or dissolved. Instead, Thanos came and the United Nations were still too busy hunting down the fugitive Avengers! (Ross, I'm looking at you...)

I believe that if they had ALL not signed the Accords, they would have been able to negotiate and figure out a new plan together with the governments. Though, I do believe that this way would have gotten them all in jail together at one point. (Can you imagine? All of them in Raft together? What chaos would that bring? Ross would have definitely retired after that.)

I believe that Steve didn't have any right to keep Tony in the dark about the truth about how Bucky killed Howard and Maria. (Like, when did he find out? How did he find out? Did Sam know too since he was helping search for Bucky? Did Natasha, Maria Hill, and Nick Fury know the truth? I hate them all if they knew and kept it from Tony.)

I believe that Ross was so against the Avengers, that he helped push the Accords and offered to be the one to break the news. I believe that he purposely reached out to Tony first, knowing that Tony felt all the guilt from every incident, and knew that he could get him to sign it. (Ross is the real bad guy here. He is the worst.)

I believe that Steve was right to not want to trust the government. (Who would after the fall of SHIELD?)

I don't believe that Tony fully trusted the Accords or the government, but understood that it was a step to making things right.

I believe that the Avengers should be held accountable and kept in check. (Even Tony agreed and he was the one to create Ultron!)

I believe that if Steve had gone to Tony before the airport incident with proof that it was a setup, things would have been different.

I believe that if the Civil War hadn't happened, Thanos would have been defeated in Infinity War.

I believe that Steve's viewpoint of everything being black and white (right or wrong), is not a good way of viewing things and caused a lot of this.

I believe that Steve doesn't feel enough guilt for the damage he and the other Avengers have done.

I believe that Tony feels too much guilt for the damage he and the other Avengers have done.

I believe that locking them in a room together until they figured it out, would have solved the issue. (Seriously, Natasha, why didn't you do this?)

I believe that Steve fully took advantage of Sharon and should have looked after her. She had to be on the run, alone, and then never got pardoned. (He also only kissed her because she was related to Peggy.)

I believe that in a real world scenario, Tony is the most correct in his believes. (Can you imagine if the Avengers were real and New York got demolished every other Thursday? Like, what would insurance look like? You cannot tell me that people would still be living in New York if the Avengers were real. Or living any place that constantly gets attacked like that.)

BUT after all that, I am Team Iron Man. Tony Stark is my main man and has successful character development. He truly changed where Steve remained selfish (to the point where he left!).

If you decide to respond to this, please be kind. We all have the right to our own opinions.

(I added this to my opinions masterlist...)

[itsuki-minamy]

"K – LETTER STORY"

BLUE: "THE TESTAMENT OF REISI MUNAKATA"

Translation: Naru-kun Raws: Ridia

Enomoto discovered the corrupt file in a corner of the cloud while working to restore the system that had been trampled by "Jungle". Because the virus spread by "Jungle" remained a minefield on the public and private network, it was necessary for "Scepter 4" to shut down the network, re-clean the directory, and completely destroy any suspicious files there.

After carefully isolating the corrupted file and restoring it, it turned out to be a video file. When he checked the file's path, he discovered that it had been uploaded from Seiun's bedroom.

"Fushimi-san. What is this?"

"Eh?"

Fushimi approached Enomoto's seat.

"I'll try to reproduce it."

Unusually, Munakata was shown wearing casual civilian clothing, rather than a uniform or kimono. He shows him sitting at his desk in his room in Seiun's dormitory from the front. The date and time are just after his dismissal as director of the fourth legislative office.

Munakata, who was sitting at his desk with his fingers intertwined, opened his mouth.

[I leave you this letter on video in case I don't come back.]

Without saying a word, Fushimi placed a hand on the side of Enomoto's PC and leaned in to look at the screen. Enomoto stepped back a little and gave the place to Fushimi.

[A separate notarial document on the inheritance of private property has been preserved. I am a mediocre official, so I don't leave much wealth.]

Munakata had a mocking smile on his face that he couldn't read, whether he was serious or joking.

"Fushimi-san, this is..."

"It's the boss's will."

Enomoto swallowed at what Fushimi said with an emotionless face. Neither of them asked to stop watching, but they continued.

[The fact that there are people watching this letter on video means that I did not return. Did they accomplish what they were supposed to do or did they fail and allow the world to fall into chaos? In the latter case, all members withdrew, disbanded, returned to private life, and became normal individuals. This will be my last order.

Even if it is the former, I hope that social order is maintained even if I am absent. In fact, it can be said that the reason for being of "Scepter 4" has become ingrained in the social system even though I am no longer needed as an individual.

Awashima-kun, I trust that you will handle the official consequences without omissions. I'm sorry I didn't tell you anything. I will take Zenjo-san and Fushimi-kun with me. I needed someone to take care of the rest and I couldn't think about you. I'm sure you have many things to tell me.]

Munakata hit Awashima's "what he meant" with a single punch. He felt dizzy as he looked at Munakata's blurry face with red and swollen cheeks.

[Also, I should explain to you about Fushimi-kun here. I think he will survive because I take measures to bring him back alive, but I don't think he is the type to explain himself.]

Even after the incident, Munakata verbally explained the fact that Fushimi was infiltrated into "Jungle". If Munakata hadn't returned alive, everyone would surely have had a misunderstanding.

"I'm glad you're safe... Both the boss and Fushimi-san."

Feeling relieved once again, Enomoto murmured in a wet voice. Fushimi snorted.

"That was a boring suicide note. I thought he would say something about his personal life that he would never say if he were still alive, but being a "public figure" is what makes him a real person."

Perhaps it was Enomoto's desire to say something that seemed like a curse to hide his embarrassment. As Fushimi looked away from the screen and was about to get up from his seat, Munakata in the video continued.

[In other words, I would like to say that the discussion with Fushimi-kun that day was also scripted, but you said it quite well, Fushimi-kun. Was I defeated by Otori Seigo? What do you mean by not saying anything? You use interesting vocabulary. Completely beaten? Hoho... Do I want to become Otori Seigo?]

Munakata rested his chin on his intertwined fingers and smiled.

Fushimi clicked his tongue vigorously.

"Don't take it seriously. You said much more."

"Wasn't there a script for that?"

"Hey, I was just following orders to infiltrate "Jungle" by any means necessary in case the Christmas operation failed."

"Hehe. This is a communication between Fushimi-kun and me."

Enomoto suddenly heard a voice behind him and jumped into his chair. Fushimi looked back indifferently.

Munakata was standing there, again wearing the fourth section chief's uniform, which was different from the one in the video.

"Sorry, I found a file while I was working."

"I'm going to delete it. It's no longer needed, so I'll delete it completely without a trace."

While Enomoto was quick to make excuses, Fushimi said calmly and without hesitation.

"Yes. Please delete it. It is no longer necessary."

Munakata nodded and smiled with some satisfaction. Enomoto thought it was a little strange that he had gone to the trouble of repeating his intention, but he said goodbye to Munakata as he left the station and said, "Thank you for your hard work.". His beautiful, broad blue back disappeared into the hallway.

If he were a private citizen and asked to protect what was most important to him, he thought about what he would have protected. Well, he doesn't have a girlfriend, so his family at home, his hobby collection, etc... No. He thinks he stayed back and did the best he could, even in a small way, to maintain order and protect the others citizens who had fallen into chaos. In fact, all his colleagues in the Special Forces did it as a matter of course.

Even in Munakata's absence, they would create an orderly, common-sense society in which each person acted to protect "what is most important to each person" based on his own judgment.

It has been proven that Munakata's soul was already incorporated into the BIOS of the basic system running "Scepter 4".

Enomoto deleted Munakata's will, which was no longer necessary.

[nomsfaultau]

(Potentially) Daily ask №3

Technoblade and the Blood god edition!

I saw you mention an incident in which somebody got a -1 hand while playing a game of rock, paper scissors with him. How the heck did that happen? How do you piss a guy of in the game of rock, paper, scissors so badly that your arm gets disintegrated?

What college degree did he get? And how the heck? I mean college is already hard enough, how did he manage to get in without documents and while being a vessel for the Blood god?

What are the criteria of someone being an orphan? Like, I assume they'd have to have 0 parents. What if they live with their grandparents? What if they don't know that their parents are dead? Does found family work? What if the parents are in a coma? Just out of the picture? If a surrogate parent was involved do they count too? Adoption? Complicated definitions of being an orphan, dude.

So he just.. got spontaneously summoned by Tommy one day.. and was just fine with it?? I mean I assume that was before the foundation. So Techno could just be sitting in class and then go tear some dudes apart and then have to drive back to class? Unless they lived in the same city which would be more convenient.

How does he feel about being Tommy's tool, basically? Sure, everyone including Tommy care about him, but he is a self-defence tool for Tommy, isn't he? Doesn't it sting a little? Considering C! Techno's whole "I am a person" theme and monologue on dsmp, I assume there's something there, isn't there?

Does he have any opinions about being surrounded by 2 completely different gods? The Blood god and Phil. Because sure, Phil cares about him but he's still a god. And I assume he doesn't have the highest opinion on the Blood God (fear/disgust/spite, perhaps?), does that reflect on his opinion of Phil in any way? Phil does also go on bloody rampages, doesn't he? To protect the ones he cares about, sure, but so does the Blood god. Sounds like a great glass (angst) opportunity.

Uh-oh, I might've set complete chaos onto the foundation the last time around. So uh, I do despise it in this universe but also not having amnestics at all would indeed set the world on fire, I think. So, I have an idea. Amnestic brownies. There's just a room full of an infinite amount of amnestic brownies now. And the foundation is thoroughly convinced that they always used amnestic brownies. Oh also amnestic brownies don't work on the main crew. Just because.

Yes, I absolutely agree with the Blade demanding that he gets more cookies because of his size. So uh, a yellow truck just casually rides up to wherever they are camping. The truck is full of all different kinds of cookies. Here ya go. They also won't ever get moldy. Whatever flavour you want, it's there. Magic. Oh also the truck is invisible to everyone else besides the main crew so nope no risk of being discovered.

Boom the foundation mysteriously forgets about the main crew's existence amd all records of them dissapear. So they're not searched for. Under their respective scp numbers are now:

Phil - a chest that works like an infinite bag from dnd. But it only works on people. You throw people there and then you can call out their name and they return. Unchanged and with no memories of what happened there. (Haha get it, collected)

Wilbur - a shadow bunny. It's a bunny. Made out of shadow. Just a normal bunny. Likes carrots.

Tommy - an anime episode where the scenes play in a different order every time. Also there's occasionally a giant "fuck off" watermark on.

Blade - an axe but all blood that comes out of the wound made by that axe is censored, like in a children's game. The textures are randomly changed to one of definitely not blood.

Ranboo - as previously stated, amnestic brownies

Cheesus Crust, this is more me causing complete chaos in the fault world than an ask. I'm sorry? I can go back to a more ask and a shorter format if you prefer that

Get as silly with this as you want! I'm having a swell time with hypotheticals. Though it might be easier to send only a few questions at a time and save the rest for later, since tumblr formating is a pain. Answers below.

The Blade never. loses. It's impossible. The universe contorts itself to ensure this no matter the odds. Mind, this doesn't necessarily mean he wins. So theoretically if someone were to nuke him from the other side of the planet, The Blade would die but also an accident would occur (wire short circuits, random truck, etc) that would kill the person who slapped the nuke button. The Blood God answers anything that hurts or challenges his vessel, often against The Blade's will, so it's less that The Blade was mad enough to tear off someone's limb and more so that The Blood God chose to do so to guarantee victory in a game of chance. Is there a different way The Blood God could have won? Definitely. His strategy is unmatched, and he can almost sense an opponents move before they do it, giving him insane reflexes. However. He likes blood. So no arms for that poor D-class.

English major, folklore and mythology minor. He didn't go in person to college (aside from graduation, which was a very chaotic affair but he'd thought it'd be funny). Used a laptop and never once turned on his zoom camera since he gave a different excuse for it every time. He paid for it via online gambling since he never loses. As for ID, his college friends call him Dave so I presume he committed identity fraud at some point. Likely did something similar speedrunning K12 education since beforehand his main education source was the voices.

An orphan status is something The Blood God can sense via soul bonds, since Bonds are kinda his deal (usually of the enemy/challenger sort but still). Have to be a child. It counts things like adoption/found family, since Collection counts otherwise Wilbur would be deadzo. It relies on a person's attachments to a parental figure, so grandparents/believing their parents are alive/coma would work. In Tubbos' case, Jasmine (a member of the hive) has parents that are living, but she doesn't consider them parents because they shot Tubbo. Ergo, Jasmine is an orphan, and Tubbo is too even if other members are adults who have parents.

The first encounter between Tommy and The Blade is found in the short story What Happened in the Catalyst. The Blade had graduated by that point and was living with Wil and Phil. So luckily he lived on the same continent by that point lmao. The Blade was incredibly confused when first summoned but was being shot at and so dealt with that first, inadvertently rescuing Tommy who survived because of Red stopping The Blood God. After a very hilarious phone call where Philza thinks he's in a hostage negotiation, they sort everything out. The Blade doesn't really fit in a car and Tommy's parents don't own a horse trailer, and so I guess he stayed with the Simonses while Phil and Wil made their way to Nottingham, since they're less conspicuous. The Blade got tacos out of it, and Tommy utterly hero worshiped him, so he was more or less cool once he had a plan to reunite with his friends.

The basis of The Blade being summoned by Tommy has its roots in how Technoblade would show up when called for battle, specifically the Battle of the Lake or whatever it was. Complaining about being woken up and grumbling yet eager to help his friend. Tommy had a pattern of getting in over his head and relying on his friends to get him out, and so I made that his literal power (along side starting wars). In the DSMP it degraded into a feeling that Technoblade was just being used for his might to further Tommy's goals. However, in Fault the summoning isn't controlled by Tommy at all, so it's harder for it to resemble a pattern of being intentionally used by a friend since the guy bleeding out on the floor probably doesn't have much control in the matter. If anything, The Blade feels more like he's The Blood God's tool than Tommy's. Actually, summonings are one of the few times The Blade is slightly more willing to be overtaken by The Blood God since it's violence with a purpose (rescuing his friend) rather than just because The Blood God feels like it.

But he also DOES resent Tommy to some extent. Summoning to him is less being used as a tool and more a chain that the Foundation uses to deny his freedom, dragging him back every time he gets out. Logically he blames the Foundation for attacking his friend, and The Blade's justice tends to the straightforward murder of the people causing the problem...but that doesn't change the fact he'd be free if it weren't for Tommy. On bad days he almost views Tommy as a tool to force him into submission. But again, in the Foundation he mostly encounters Tommy when he's dying, and it feels bad to hate the kid sobbing into his lap and depending on him for salvation. And it's even harder to feel like a hero knowing his escape attempt is the reason Tommy was sacrificed in the first place.

6. The Blade has a very very poor opinion of The Blood God chiefly for the fact his bodily autonomy is violated every time he takes over. He views The Blood God as a parasite trying to invade his mind, body, and control exclusively for the purpose of senseless violence. Frankly...it's a very derogatory and one dimensional view of The Blood God, but The Blade shuts him out completely, and so proper communication there isn't going to happen until a lot of character development.

Philza on the other hand doesn't violate his bodily autonomy or take over his mind. In fact Philza was very instrumental in The Blade getting better control over The Blood God and coping techniques for his intrusive thoughts. He made The Blade feel like he had more control through their careful spars where he brushed against the boundaries where The Blood God would usually take over while still maintaining sovereignty of himself. (Which in the long run only further hurts the relationship between The Blade and Blood God but not like Phil knew that so eh). Philza actually does have a decent relationship with The Blood God, since they often fight side by side. The Blood loathes and loves him in equal measures for protecting The Blade but also making it easier for The Blade to suppress him.

But also The Blade's background taught him that violence is the best solution to most things, which unfortunately Philza probably encouraged. Because Philza uses his wrath in the service of his Collected, The Blade is more at peace using The Blood God to defend him and his friends whereas before he was alone and saw fighting more as interruptions. Probably why The Blade is more amenable to Tommy summonings tbh. Philza encourages him to be violent, but also controlled violence. Which sounds crazy since Phil is out doing massacres, but to him that's very intentional, purposeful violence.

To The Blade, Philza and The Blood God differ wildly in the why department. Philza does it out of love and makes him feel free. The Blood God does it out of love madness and makes him feel trapped. However, there will come a scene where Philza tries to seek his bloody vengeance through The Blood God, only for The Blade to refuse being used as the tool of Philza's wrath. Not that he uses The Blade to the extreme degree The Blood God does, but the comparison is rather apt.

7. Ah this takes me back to the fake pot brownie scene I wrote for Fault years back and lost...alas. Basic premise was a Real Estate walking in on them crashing in a for-sale house and then Tommy trying to convince her the courtesy brownies she brought for clients were laced with weed and she's high as a kite. So I suppose brownies that hide the existence of anomalies has precedent in Fault? Though for the most part amnestics are used on humans and Philza was an emergency case. I'd be slightly more worried about the friends, family, and allies of the crew!

8. I'm personally imagining a dump truck, which is conveniently about the size of vehicle they'd need to drive The Blade around! They're going to get to Chicago in no time with that thing. Philza is having a very hard time convincing his kids that they need a balanced diet that isn't just cookies. Wilbur realizes he doesn't have hobbies now that he doesn't have to worry about food. Tommy WILL try to claim all the cookies by marking them with Red.

9. I'm assuming this is now what the Foundation has? And bravo they're all crazy creative. Let's see how the Foundation reacts I suppose.

Phil Bag of Holding Children: I can honestly picture him being used as a MTF tool, though my Foundation doesn't tend to use anomalies. But the potential of moving an entire flank of soldiers around with ease, completely undetected, is too tempting. One guy gets the drop on an anomaly and then boom throw out their pokeball and the poor anomaly is utterly surrounded now by an MTF squad.

Wilbur Shadow bunny: honestly so adorable. I feel like Morgan (observer from small au with Doctor!Phil) would fantasize about rescuing it. Wouldn't cause they're an utter coward, but they'd be nice and bring extra carrots.

Tommy Disorientating anime: 1 it would have to say m̶̮̯̃ụ̶̤̀̕f̵̯̹̈́̇f̴̗́́į̴̲̃̈n̶͎̈́ off because of Halo. Nobody in Fault can swear. Well except The Blade but he doesn't know that yet. 2, Webb (Philza's handler) would watch in his down time trying to make sense of it because he's desperate to connect with his daughter and teenagers like anime right? He's so lost.

The Blade PG13 axe: Honestly Maureen (guard) deserves this. Classic axe lesbian.

Ranboo Amnestic brownies: I can just picture Dr. Blake (very evil doctor) slipping crumbs into people's food and then taking notes on what happens. She would offer the whole brownies, but I reckon no one would trust that since it's so out of character.

And technically I suppose Tubbo already is a box of pinned bees and assorted limbs in the Foundation.

[random-fandom-chaos]

Vent

TW: sucidal ideation, Uhh SA (? Does it count if it’s another Minor?) Uhh random shit just be warned, ima gonna get judged so so so so hard.

Most people say that “when you’re a teenager is when you being to mature” NO. I was fucking 4…FOUR and my older cousin (only 9 years older) TRIED TOUCHING ME. LIKE THANK GOD MY MOM WAS THERE AND SHE WENT IN THE ROOM. (He’s nice, he didn’t remember/Forgot about it I think. I’m on good terms with him. I just hate knowing that this was also kept a secret from me because of my mom) AND his younger brother (same age as me) after that when were ages 4-6 he touched me but worse like he called it “playing house”, I didn’t know I didn’t know it was anything bad and I don’t mind, I fucking encouraged it at this point, because I thought I was normal. I WAS FOUR FOR GODS SAKE. And my mom said to forget about it cuz he’s autistic…(I’m also on good terms with him he forgot I think or just doesn't talk about, he’s cool. And I remember his clearly. Because that’s when it was explained that it was wrong.)

BUT GODS SAKE. I KNOW REALIZE HOW DISGUSTING IT IS. I HATE IT I HATE LIFE.

…

what’s life’s meaning? I feel so horrible about myself, disgusted

it’s so fucking hard being the “gifted and perfect” kid. My parents say it’s cause they want me to do good in life, I don’t doubt it. But there’s something else, I feel like they’re using me my brother never got good grades always failed skipped school. And yet I’m “gifted” if they argue with him, I’m always taking my brothers side. Because he doesn’t deserve being treated wrongly, he tries his best.

I don’t want to live.

I feel so fucking selfish just venting.

I always have energy, I could be dancing, hearing my friend talk about their interests. Yet i wand to kill myself. I always do what my body tells me, not what I want to do. I don’t know how to feel really

I lost my first few friends at a new school because of simple misused wording, I needed a break from them, they were leaving me out. I said I didn’t want to be friends— then they ran up the stairs. They hate me. Even if they’re friends with my best friend, I don’t talk to them, they talk behind my back blaming me for this incident…yet…I can’t bring myself to blame them back. They’re wonderful people that deserve things, i opened up to them, because they are so cool. Yet I got betrayed. I don’t mind tho. My best friend could stay friend with them, as long as they still for me too, even that’s a stretch, But who am I to tell them not to be friends for my own selfishness. I’m not that bad of a person. Everyone has their own opinion. Everything alright! (Not it’s not.)

who cares? Who actually cares? So many people say they do. But I feel empty. I feel disconnected. I don’t have energy. But I try.

I don’t want people worrying. Because they have problems already. Why am I being selfish and asking for precious time they could be using just to spew out words? What’s wrong with me?

many people may think I’m Kai right now or something. No I’m fucking Chaos, Heh, all these words are so funny coming from an 11 year old right? so so funny.

and so so useless.

…

I always have energy, and I’m never serious. I hate that. I feel judged for that. But I can’t control it its my damn body! I hate it so much.

I hate life.

(END)

Omg, that felt good also to whoever read all of that thank you I will bombard you with happy things, this is really negative and I’m so sorry, but I had to get this off my chest, I know I’m going to get judged because of the first paragraph. But it’s something that happened to an unknown me, I’m sorry for all the negative I will be posting silly reblogs to take the depressing mood away.

love you all <3333/platonic)

-Chaos

[hereandnowhere-onboards]

Off the Beaten Track ep 2

I had a great time with episode 1, which mainly dealt with Max's GT3 racing team. However, I found ep 2 kind of depressing and boring, for a range of reasons.

I think it's useful to understand the incredibly intense commercial demands on Max's time, because it's such a huge part of his life. It's also the reality of modern F1.

Max describes in the episode how he takes his brain down to 1% during marketing commitments so he doesn't need to use too much energy, which is a pragmatic way of dealing with it. But watching someone quasi-dissociate through an endless series of commitments while surrounded by huge numbers of people was vicariously stressful to me, more than I think was intended. (This may also be a Current State of My Brain thing.)

I'd really enjoyed how relaxed Max's talking heads seemed in ep 1. The talking heads in Vegas in ep 2 seemed far more like his boilerplate PR responses – however, given that they were filmed at night during the chaos of the Vegas race weekend, they were never going to have the chill vibe of ep 1, even if the topic hadn't been his beloathed marketing.

As Max says in the episode, the interviews he has to do are so repetitive that he's almost able to answer each question before it's asked. I feel that this episode fell into the same trap – the way Max's talking head interview was structured meant that Max was effectively giving PR boilerplate responses, which didn't manage to bring anything new to it for me, and (ironically) I found it boring.

Max has been very publicly doing this for a long time and for anyone who's taken an interest in him, his disdain for marketing has been thoroughly covered, so I'm not sure how you'd actually introduce a novel or more interesting angle here. (Is the doco just fundamentally aimed at a different audience to me?)

In the past Max has been more engaged when it's been a joint interview with a sympathetic foil (eg Alex, Daniel) and more checked out when it's just him alone in a room with an interviewer (DTS). A joint interview probably wouldn't have worked so well in this context (myth-building documentary series with an individual focus) but it might have given Max 'Yes-And' Verstappen some more yes-anding to do. Some more enrichment. Although if he's really needing to conserve his energy maybe he doesn't want that enrichment.

While watching, I also reflected on my own attitudes and practices towards F1 drivers in general and Max in particular. Because I am part of the problem – that insatiable demand for Content that drives the marketing machine. I don't have any good answers for this but it's always in the back of my mind.

The other thing that bothered me about this episode was that the content didn't quite feel enough to fill the running time – it felt a bit repetitive to me. I wonder if they really needed a full episode for what they covered, or if they could have instead broadened the scope. I felt that some of the episode's focus was perhaps over-dictated by access that the documentarians had been able to get, particularly at Heineken.

All of that said, there were a couple of instantly iconic moments:

Max stripping out of his pants ('trousers' for the Brits) on camera

Max's Grindr joke

Camera angle that I hadn't seen before on the Daniel stroopwaffel hand-feeding incident in Zandvoort.

Aside from that, people who are more interested in Max's other commercial deals and the business of F1 may get more out of this episode than I did.

NOTE: In the later stages of the episode Max is shown on camera using 'disabled' as a throwaway insult – it's unfortunately consistent with what I know of his previous conduct, so it's not really new information about him, but it still sucks.