#i know they are real people but i believe this one is okay because they have both joked about it before

[heartmix]

My Girls - MV1

Pairing: Max Verstappen x singlemom!reader

Word Count: 1.4k+

Warning: poking fun at max, dad!max, no use of y/n but daughters name is Aria

A/N: dad max content. I have a part 2 in mind so that will be coming soon

F1 Masterlist / Masterlist

"Can I ask you a question, it's totally okay if you say no."

"What is it?"

"When do you think I'll be able to meet her?" the question caught you off guard. 

You knew what he was asking, he was asking when he'd be able to meet your daughter. Being a young single mom was not in the books for you. With her father leaving before she was even born you quickly tossed out the idea of finding a relationship. Sure, there have been many instances where people dated single parents, but since you had her when you were young, the idea did seem impossible. You've been preparing for the moment for months, but it still caught you off guard. Coming up on a year of being together it was bound to happen. 

Noticing your silence he quickly tried to defuse the tension, "I mean it's totally up to you. I don't mean to rush you or anything, I want to let you know that I'm committed to you and I'm not going anywhere. I want to be there for both of you."

"Sure." 

"Sure?" He clarified, a smile spreading across his face quickly, one you matched instantly. A simple nod was all he needed to take you into his arms and give you the most bone-crushing hug. Seeing him make a big deal settled all your nerves.

Max's hand was shaking way too much to be meeting a 2-year-old. From the stories you told about the little one, he saw that she was friendly and was willing to meet new people so the fact that he was shaking so much was comical. He's had meetings with some of the richest people in the world and met world leaders, hell people would have this reaction meeting him and he would laugh it off saying he was just a normal person. So why was this little one making him more nervous than a race day? 

It had to do with the fact that she was yours—the light of your life and the only person in your life you prioritized. The more he thought about it, the more that person became you to him, and this was just the final step to make everything feel real. If the little girl didn't like you, he knew you wouldn't hesitate to break it off, and he couldn't blame you.

With one final head shake to try and get rid of the nervousness he knocked on the front door. Did he knock too hard that he startled the little one? Should he have knocked? Maybe he should have texted you he was outside. It's been months since he knocked on your door, having his own key to the place. Before he could think of any other ridiculous thoughts the door opened the reveal you, standing in all your glory with that welcoming gorgeous smile he fell in love with. 

"I can't believe meeting my kid got you out of wearing a Red Bull kit. I can't even get you to do that." Your teasing tone snapped him out of the trance. Max couldn't help but laugh at that being your comment in a situation like this. 

"It's just a black shirt schatje. I can hardly say I dressed up." he glanced looking down at his black shirt and some jeans. He would be lying if he said he didn't think about what to wear today. 

"Oh please, Max Verstappen outside of anything Red Bull is dressing up." 

"You're not helping." he groaned seeing as you were enjoying every minute of this. He was going to get payback, if everything went okay after all.

"Why are you so nervous?"

"How are you not?" He asked not seeing any concerning features. He expected you to be more worried and in a worse state than him actually.

"Because I know you, I know how great you are, and that my baby will love you." You smiled while wrapping your arms around his neck, Max immediately circling his around your waist. Maybe if you weren't worried he shouldn't be either. "Come on, she's expecting you." Grabbing his hand and pulling him further into the house.

Before he rounded the corner to the living room he heard the sound of what to be a Disney song playing on the speakers and toys clashing with one another. He's been to your house enough times to know how much toys littered the living room. When the living room came into view he saw the little girl sitting on the ground surrounded by blocks and little toys he didn't recognize. 

"Aria, baby. I want you to meet Mommy's friend. This is max. Can you say hi?" Max didn't leave your side as you leaned down to grab the girl's attention. Her eyes immediately locked onto his the second she recognized there was a stranger in her house.

"Hi!" She beamed up at the tall Dutchman with the biggest smile on her face. Seeing that smile every last bit of nerves washed away. Just like seeing your smile for the first time, he knew he was screwed in the best way possible. 

"Hi, Aria. Lovely to meet you."

"Can Max spend the day with us?" you then asked although, with one look at the smirk on your face, he knew the answer. 

"Play with me?" In the cutest voice Max ever heard, he wasted no time sitting next to the girl who held a stuffed cat up to his face.

"Of course. I would love to!"

"Baby, why don't you show Max your cars."

"My cars!" She excitedly said before running to her room to retrieve her cars. Not a second later she came back with a bag filled with a few cars. Max was expecting Hot Wheels or toys from the cars movie, in no way was he prepared for the girl to pull out a replica of his car. 

"Do you know the cars we watch every week? That's Max and that's his car." You pointed out watching the girl's face turn into shock. 

"You 1?" Turning to Max who held the same shock expression as hers.

"I am. You like cars?" At this, she let out a little squeal and pushed the car into his hand. 

One by one she pulled out every car she had even the names she gave each of them. Max was 1, the McLarens were orange, and more specifically Lando was 4. The Ferraris were horsey and the one Mercedes car being Lewis of course was pretty due to the fact that she could only point out Lewis out of his racing gear. 

By the end of the day, Aria was all tired out. After all day playing with Max and telling stories at dinner, she passed out beside Max on the couch while watching cars. Your choice of movie just to poke fun at Max more. Taking her to bed you saw that Max pulled out wine from the fridge and handed you a glass before settling on the couch. The stark contrast from the noise-filled day to the quietness of just you two was a reality check for Max. He made it through and from the way you were cuddled up into his side, he knew that he was right where he needed to be. 

"Thank you. For being so good with her, she loved you so much, probably just as much as me. You made her day and she is going to be excited to see you in the morning."

"You don't need to thank me for anything. I should be thanking you for letting me into the biggest part of your life. You are doing such a wonderful job with her, you're an amazing mother." At his confession, you couldn't help but feel tears brim your eyes.

"I'm sorry, silly thing to get emotional about but that means a lot. I'm just happy you accept me and her with everything we have going on." Before your hands could wipe the tears streaming down your cheek his hands wiped them away. 

"I meant it when I said I'm with you through everything. I wouldn't change anything about you or her. I want you to know I love you both and I'm not going anywhere."

"You're such a freaking sap Max Verstappen. If your fans could see you now." You teased making him chuckle. 

"The duality of you to turn a heartfelt moment into teasing me." 

"You signed up for it when you agreed to date me."  

"And I wouldn't have it any other way." He smiled as he pulled you in for a kiss. 

[fgumi]

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ LOSER IN A HOT MAN'S BODY

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 { PAIRING; non-idol!heeseung x reader, GENRE; fluff, school!au, headcanon, WC; 2.8k, A/N; i love losers that love that girlfriends entirely too much but, at the same time, not enough. TAGS; @en-dream @heeheesang @httpenhoon @r1kification @seungheartyou, @starfallia @sugarikiz @hoondolls @bamguetismee @jnysaln @cixrosie @wensurr @heartheejake @m1kkso }

(˶˃ ᵕ ˂˶) .ᐟ.ᐟ part two is up!

loser!heeseung was never the first one to get chosen for anything. well, he did get chosen first for musicals and solos! he had a beautiful voice and there was no denying that. but, for anything else? nope. it wasn't until you transferred over to his high school that he got picked willingly (and not because you guys were the only two left). you approached him in gym class after your teacher said to partner up for conditioning. "hey! i'm y/n. do you think we could be partners today?"

heeseung just blinked at you and then turned to see if someone was behind him. when he verified you were talking to him, he turned back to see you with a bemused look, a slight crease forming right between your brows. "you are talking to me, right?" he asked nervously.

a wry smile formed on your lips as you nodded. "there’s no one else around."

heeseung couldn't believe it. someone who wasn't a part of the theatre department was talking to him! so, he agreed with only a moment's hesitation. by the time sit-ups came around, heeseung knew about your basic interests and one secret: you were big on anime. you explained to him, during his sad attempts at pushups, that you loved anime but remained closeted because the boys at your last school made it weird. heeseung was careful not to let his excitement show; he didn't wanna scare you off before he really got to know you. eventually, after all the hellish exercises your teacher put you through, heeseung shyly asked you why you wanted to be partners.

"you looked like the type that doesn't judge people for struggling," you replied after drinking your water. you wiped the droplets of water that trickled down your neck and then offered heeseung some. "i don't have cooties. promise."

he gave you a faint, unsure smile, his hand reaching out slowly, half expecting you to pull it back and say psych! but you didn’t. you just patiently waited for him to take it. honestly, he just looked like a spooked deer to you, and you couldn’t help but find it endearing. after class was over and it was time for lunch, heeseung deflated. it was nice talking to you while it lasted.

“heeseung! wait up!”

he turned to you with round eyes, watching you rush over, a backpack draped over your right shoulder. you were freshly showered, water still dripping off the ends of your hair. you looked... happy? you slowed to a stop right in front of him.

“do you mind if we eat together?”

you wanted to eat with him? a cool girl like you wants to eat with a certified loser like him?

“it’s okay if you already have plans! i think i can find somewhere else to sit.”

no! you jumped a little. heeseung retracted into himself, rubbing the back of his neck. he’s never had someone ask to eat with him. he just sort of sat with his theatre classmates—not even friends. they all thought he was weird. you gave him a puzzled look.

“are you sure? you don’t have to pity me just because i’m new,” you pouted. gosh, was it just him or did everyone find you adorable?

“i’m sure. i was just hesitant since i’m not known for being, you know, popular.”

rolling your eyes, you clapped a hand on his shoulder. “as if that actually matters.” you tugged him along, linking your arm with his. thank goodness you were busy looking for the cafeteria because heeseung was struggling to keep the blush off of his face. as much as heeseung didn’t want to get his hopes up, he hoped that you guys would become real friends.

loser!heeseung loved his hobbies. he could talk about them for hours; they were his passion. he loved playing maple story, league of legends, team fight tactics, going to the renaissance fair, studying the metrics of trot (this one was a little too niche to really talk about though). none of these passions were greater than his passion for you. this man was dedicated to learning everything there was to know about you now that you were friends. you teased him about how stalkerish he sounded. almost immediately, he apologized.

the way his shoulders shrunk and eyes drooped down, you were definitely the asshole. when he stopped talking, you panicked. so, you didn’t think. you kissed his cheek. you blinked. he blinked. you blinked at each other. you know that ouran high school host club scene where tamaki realized haruhi is a girl and she complimented him? you’d bet your whole house that’s how red you were because you could feel the heat radiating off your face.

heeseung’s mind was still white noise. any sounds that were supposed to reach his ears were muffled, like he was underwater. was he underwater? was he dragged down into the depths of the styx river only to be lost forever? was he dreaming to cope with the harsh reality of his death? was he—

“heeseung?” you meekly called. “i’m sorry. i shouldn’t have done that without your consent. that was—”

he must’ve called upon achilles’s guidance and invincibility because he didn’t know where he got this courage otherwise. what courage you may ask? well, the courage that planted heeseung’s lips on yours.

your lips were so soft. they tasted like strawberries. he wondered if strawberries were your favorite fruit. he could kiss you forever. oh crap, he was kissing you.

anxiety crept up his spine, invading his every nerve; it was telling him he had to pull away or else you’d leave him forever. except, when he started moving away, he noticed you followed, reluctant to end the kiss. your eyes were closed too. he could’ve sworn they were open from shock.

heeseung could feel his back creaking in protest at the odd angle; he would’ve fallen over if it weren’t for you clutching the front of his shirt. huh? oh! maybe, you liked the kiss! you liked the kiss, like he did! oh, but now he couldn’t breathe. what should he do? he didn’t want the kiss to end.

he pressed back, holding out until the last possible moment. but you pulled away first, gasping for air. a blush dusted your cheeks and heeseung could guess that he was red too—probably not as pretty of a shade as yours though.

“s-sorry,” he stammered as you caught your breath. “i don’t know why i—”

you shut him up with another kiss (but this one was too short for heeseung’s newfound thirst for kissing you). when you pulled away, his big eyes tugged at your heart. they looked so sad that you moved away. it made you giggle—this whole situation. for someone that was trying to learn everything about you, he sure did miss your huge crush on him.

loser!heeseung didn’t know how he got so fortunate. was he a luck domain cleric in real life? he felt like he was rolling nat 20s continuously. he managed to ask you out (though, he was stuttering the whole time and nearly tripped on top of you—it was a whole affair that he’d rather forget) and be dating you 3 years later? he was one lucky man. and, some might say even luckier as time went on.

you got more confident once you guys got to college and, thus, you got hotter. you found your sense of self and your fashion reflected it. heeseung wasn’t doing so bad either. he found people that he got along with and could proudly (read: shyly) call friends. he found beomgyu in the league discord server that the university had and jeongin in d&d club! he’d meet up with them every once in awhile whenever they all felt like they needed to touch grass. of course, his friends knew you came first. you were heeseung’s everything. what they couldn’t wrap around their heads was how heeseung was your everything.

“you’ve been dating for 3 years!? no way, man.” “are you secretly rich? the son of some big conglomerate?” “all offense, she’s hot and you’re… not.”

heeseung didn’t let that bother him. his friends were idiots that had never felt the touch of a woman. plus, you trained him better (you told him to stop talking about himself like he was your pet, but he refused). you loved him so much without any strings attached. you were patient with him and listened to him ramble about how league kept nerfing his favorite character with every update. you never tried to change him and you told him it’s because you fell in love with him for how he was. but, there came a day when he wished you did. he happened to overhear a conversation between you and your friends.

“girl, there’s no way you’ve been with heeseung for 3 years and he hasn’t picked up a single thing about fashion from you.” “the face cards are mismatched, ma. you’re up here and he’s not even on this plane.” “don’t you ever get embarrassed whenever you guys go out? i mean, he dresses like he’s stuck in his mom’s basement.” “i hope he compensates in other ways because he’s not doing it where i can see.” “how are you okay with someone that much skinnier than you? doesn’t your body dysmorphia get triggered?”

you stopped talking to those girls after that. however, it didn’t stop heeseung from getting hurt by it. it was true, in heeseung’s eyes. you deserved much better than what he was giving you. how is it that you loved him even though he looked the exact same as he did 3 years ago? there were so many hot guys around and you never so much as turned your head to glance. there was nothing to support his insecurity about being hot enough or being enough in general. nonetheless, that horrid conversation sparked something in heeseung.

“baby, i’m heading to the gym. i’ll be back later to cook us dinner, okay?” if your brows raised any further, they’d merge into your hairline. “the gym?” heeseung nodded firmly. “gotta start working out to combat all the ramen i eat.”

“hee, you haven’t gained weight since we started dating, despite you eating my leftovers and your food. you don’t need to combat anything,” you laughed. when you saw heeseung was still tying the laces on his shoes, you let it go, thinking nothing of it. you kissed him and reminded him to stay hydrated.

thus began heeseung’s gym journey. it was difficult. muscle barely stuck even though he was eating well over 3000 calories. but, he could see his body getting toned, more cut, so he was happy. maybe people would stop looking at the two of you like you were wrong.

his wishful thinking remained at that. despite getting noticeably more fit, people still talked. they talked about his fashion, his haircut, and his hygiene (he thought this one was unfair considering he always did skincare with you and loved doing your nightly routines).

so, on the day you told him you were going thrifting, he asked to tag along. you were taken aback. heeseung never came with you; he didn’t see the point when he had perfectly good clothes at home. but you let him come along. you thought he’d just peruse with you or be there to make sure you paid with the card he gave you (he made a lot of money from his internship and begged you to use it for anything you wanted), but he didn’t. he asked a lot of questions.

“do you think this would look good on me?” “do these go together?” “are these good quality?”

you were excited. going thrifting was one of your favorite hobbies and to see heeseung taking such an interest in it was thrilling. you gave your opinions, always with a disclaimer that fashion is up to preference. he nodded along, processing your words. by the end of your thrifting trip, heeseung went home with a bundle of clothes to wear. the next day, he’d wake up earlier than normal to try and piece his new clothes together. he knew he wasn’t good at it. his friends let him know without reservations. hell, your friends let him know with their skeptical looks. it wasn’t until he talked to sunghoon in the gym that he got some actual constructive criticism.

“you’re taking an interest in fashion?”

“nothing crazy,” heeseung muttered, kicking the dust on the floor. “i just hate the comments y/n gets whenever her friends think i’m not listening.”

sunghoon looked at his gym buddy in pity. “look, man. if everything you’ve told me about your relationship is true, i don’t think y/n cares what you wear. she hasn’t in 3 years. what makes you think it’ll change all of a sudden?”

nothing. he didn’t doubt you. he just got sick at the thought of you having to listen to all those criticisms. so, sunghoon helped him. he showed him his pinterest moodboard and made heeseung swear to never tell anyone that’s how he chooses what to wear. after that informative session, heeseung got to work. he used your instagram feed as a reference, wanting to match your aesthetic, and created a moodboard inspired by it. using his pinterest board, he went thrifting by himself. he recalled the countless videos he watched while sorting through the clothes. cotton, not polyester. depending on the stain, you can get it out. tailoring is always an option when you find something that is a little too big!

he was very serious about his transformation. he even digitally scrapbooked the pictures of him in different clothes so he could be like cher in clueless. since then, his fashion started improving. your morning routines together changed ever so slightly with you telling him to spin for you. his heart warmed with every compliment you gave him.

“who is this diva?” “i feel very underdressed. i’m changing.” “are you getting dressed by law roach?” “you’ve been taking dress to impress a little seriously these days.”

heeseung’s confidence soared. now, he wasn’t ashamed to go out with you. your friends weren’t ashamed to be seen with him either. they even went as far as to compliment him! score! he’d gotten brownie points with your friends.

“finally, he’s dressing like a boyfriend fit to be with you, y/n.”

oh, that made you pull the brakes real fast. it completely escaped your mind how much your friends dissed your boyfriend (because you brushed them off as stupid comments). come to think of it, heeseung always did manage to miss the moments where they talked about him, but only by a minute or two. what if… what if he did hear those comments?

curious and worried, you asked him during your nightly routines. “hee, did… did you start dressing up for any particular reason?”

uh oh. heeseung hated lying to you; it physically pained him. so, he confessed. “i heard what your friends think of me and i didn’t want you to have to keep hearing them say things like that.”

“oh, baby, i’m so sorry you heard that,” you cooed. “i didn’t tell you because not even an atom of me agrees with them. i love you as you are, uni tees, basketball shorts and all.”

heeseung put down the moisturizer and looked down. “i know… i just wanted people to stop thinking we’re wrong for each other.”

you frowned and pulled him into a hug. “well, we know we’re perfect for each other. i’ve known it from the moment you started talking about the metrics of trot. i remember just nodding along and thinking how beautiful you were.”

heeseung blushed at your words. you always knew how to make him feel better.

“you don’t have to dress up for anyone but yourself, okay?”

he shook his head with a small smile. “i like matching with you. it’s fun.”

“well, i guess we really gotta dress to impress then,” you grinned, kissing his cheek.

with that, heeseung was reassured. no more pressure. he could just dress however he wanted (which was however you were dressing). but, his glow up didn’t stop there. no, he thought about a haircut. he wanted something that would shut your friends up forever. so, after scrolling forever on tiktok, he found that he liked a mullet with some face-framing pieces. he went and got it done at sunghoon’s trusted barbershop and came out a new man. he immediately sent you a picture, to which you responded, “don’t go anywhere. no errands. no grabbing food. come home. now.”

safe to say, you loved his new haircut. he loved his new haircut. he loved it even more when his friends and your friends couldn’t manage words. good. stay that way.

loser!heeseung was still a loser but, at least, he was in a hot man’s body with his very very attractive girlfriend. he still played league. he still larped. he still took the renaissance fair very seriously. he still loved you more than anything in the world. he was still your loser.

disclaimer: this, in no way, reflects the idol. this is purely fiction. ✧ comments and reblogs are appreciated! ✧ give my other works a read too!

[dammit-tazmuir]

It's also coming from a Pyrrha who knew Wake died with a baby that Pyrrha believed for two decades was hers.

Hers or G1deon's, I guess, but honestly? G1deon was "legendarily unamorous", and coupled with Wake's "later I kissed him before I knew what you were", I personally get the impression G1deon was aroace-spec of a recipro-variety, where the sheer intensity of Wake's attraction and confidence with which she acted like they were already intimate sparked something in him. (Even then, I have to wonder if he might have been more chaste than Pyrrha?) Point is though, from Pyrrha's perspective, there'd be a solid case to see any conceived kid as still hers regardless of who was fronting, even if the body sharing wasn't already enough to nullify any distinction.

Pyrrha spent nineteen years grieving a child she thought was hers only to find out the kid was alive (and now isn't, but kind of is, but it's complicated) but not hers, but she's still Wake's child and that still means something. And also, far more than Pyrrha realized, this kid is the thing Wake died for. The thing she and G1deon were ordered to kill Wake for. The Bomb with which she'd wanted to damn near literally rig the universe to explode, that she was so determined to procure she grew it with her own body for nine grueling months. Gideon is the single most Landmine People thing Wake ever did incarnate.

And then when Pyrrha does meet her (but she's not who she thought, but also not as dead as she thought, but also holy shit she's WHAT now? and JOHN'S?) they get all of a few minutes to actually talk as they're trying not to die (again for real this time, or maybe worse in the River), and THEN, for all Pyrrha knows, she might have lost her AGAIN, IMMEDIATELY. And she spends six months "playing mother and father" to a kid who does not look like Wake and is not the young woman she so briefly met but may or may not have part of the same soul? And it turns out she doesn't (unless), and she loves Nona as Nona even when she grows to understand she's Alecto, but Gideon is still around and once again sporting that fiery red hair.

AND FROM GIDEON'S PERSPECTIVE...

:/ Some dead chick who apparently could hijack her necro's body used that to bang her mom (who was not only apparently a huge dick but managed to betray Gideon's trust beyond anything she could have ever imagined despite having been dead for all but one day of Gideon's entire life) and for some reason thinks that gives her any kind of connection to Gideon. Like, okay??? Even her mom didn't see her as a daughter, why the fuck is this bitch trying to all of a sudden? Plus she just got one new parent and frankly he kinda sucks but he's God and he actually makes her feel special and important. At least he didn't know she existed! Pyrrha can't say the same! Hell, Pyrrha basically killed Gideon once already (or might literally have but ya know, Jesus). And she wants to, what, just be buddy-buddy now? Because she had the hots for Gideon's mom? Shut the fuck up.

As we the audience sit recognizing how insanely good and healing for each other they could be if they really got the chance and not knowing for sure if they ever will. I hate it here.

the miscommunication between Pyrrha and Gideon is killing me. when Pyrrha brings up Wake, she is saying "your mother was important to me, I wanted to be someone important to you too. I still do". but Wake is a sore spot for Gideon! the very first thing we learn about her is that she loves her mother, she goes down to talk to her bones one last time. Gideon survived the Ninth believing that at least her mother loved her

and then she is proven wrong! Wake had her just to kill her, didn't even name her, instead calling her Bomb! she is mourning the idea of a mother and every time Pyrrha brings up fucking Wake, an awkward way to show she cares, it's just another reminder that her mother never loved her. I need to hug her so bad

[eicsferrari]

annoyance - cs55 smau pt2

summary: you don't like carlos but now he's a williams driver and you have to see a lot more of him

a/n: in case you don't know the finalissima is a football match between the winners of the copa america and uefa european championship. the finalissima 2025 will be between argentina and spain. but now apparently it might be played in 2026 ?? which i didn't know when i started this so let's just pretend for the plot thank u

pt 1 / pt2 / pt3 (soon)

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2025

Instagram

williamsracing & carlossainz55: 2025, the fight starts now👊🏼

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carlossainz55: Let's go team!! 💪🌶️

user5: vamos carlitosss

user3: ready to wear blue💙

user9: we will miss franco ♡liked by yourusername

user4: yn took the picture but didn't like the post we stan a petty queen🔥

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♡liked by yourusername, carlossainz55, alex_albon & others

williamsracing: 2025 team

📷: yourusername

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user1: user4 she liked this one

user4: only bc of alex

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♡liked by francocolapinto, landonorris, carlossainz55 & others

yourusername: new year, i have a good feeling about this one

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user7: she's my favorite non-wag🤍

yourfriend1: 3rd picture, is there wine on the bag?

yourusername: you know me too well🍷

landonorris: i'm still waiting for those photography tips you promised me🤨

yourusername: once the season starts and only if you buy me food

user2: are they flirting???

yourusername: i finally convince you guys i'm not dating franco and you are already trying to get me involved with someone else pls free me😭😭

user8: carlos in the likes👀👀

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williamsracing: help us decide

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alex_albon: carlex for the win

yourusername: i like bonsai

carlossainz55: i prefer carbon

yourusername: ok? make your own comment

yourusername: also why would you prefer carbon?

carlossainz55: idk i just do and we can call our fans carbonara

williamsracing: we agree carlossainz55 carbon it is💙

yourusername: williamsracing betrayal 💔

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Text

y/n: in a scale from 1 to 10, how bad would it be if i quit??

y/n: i can live off franco

your friend: why would you quit don't be ridiculous

your friend: also franco might have less money than you do, it's not a great plan

y/n: i'm convinced carlos thinks i only got this job because of franco and not because of my talent

your friend: did he say that?

y/n: well no

your friend: then?

your friend: cause i honestly still don't understand why you dislike him so much

y/n: okay so when i was at franco's first race i got lost and asked him for directions

y/n: but when i said i was going to williams he asked if i was with franco

y/n: implying i was with franco you know, which already annoyed me

y/n: and then he walked me for a bit, asked me what i do and when i said photographer he said "that's great!"

y/n: but in a sarcastic way?? like it is just a dumb little hobby and he was mocking me

your friend: how do you know?

y/n: body language idkkkk

y/: and then someone called him and he just left me there !!! still lost might i add

your friend: so let me see if i understand correctly

your friend: you met this man at his work place. he helped you while he could, tried to make small talk, then got called for work and now you hate him bc of "body language idkkk"?

y/n: when you put it like that i sound insane

your friend: it is insane babe🤍

y/n: i can't explain it he just sounded condescending

your friend: were you maybe (and just maybe) projecting some of your own fears onto the conversation?

your friends: and all of the things you assume he thinks are the things you are afraid people might think or haters are saying online?

y/n: ...maybe

your friend: do you have any real reason to believe he thinks all those disgusting things??

y/n: ...

y/n: not really

your friend: and don't you think that maybe, since you are working together, the best thing might be to give him another chance? unless proven otherwise?

y/n: ugh i it when you get rational and make sense

your friend: someone has to‼️

✧

Text

lando: hi yn! just confirming our plans for tonight

lando: also carlos will join us, do u mind?

y/n: hi lando!! tonight it is

y/n: and no, i don't mind

lando: great cause i wasn't sure

lando: see you in a bit

✧

Instagram

landonorris posted a story

caption: i bought her food AND drinks

tagged: yourusername & carlossainz55

replies

↪ user5: omg carlos and yn, war is over????

↪user7: carlandooo

↪francocolapinto: she didn't murder him????

landonorris: worst, i'm almost sure i was third wheeling

francocolapinto: the plot thickens👀

✧

landonorris: photography lessons

view all comments

user3: photographer lando>>

user6: yn is so prettyyy ♡liked by carlossainz55

user8: carlos i see you 👀👀👀

user7: call me crazy but yn and carlos would make a great couple

user9: that's insane get help 🤍

yourusername: these look good, clearly you had the best teacher💪

landonorris: debatable

carlossainz55: ignoralo, sigue enojado que hablaramos español para que no nos entendiera [ignore him, he's still angry we talked in spanish so he wouldn't understand]

landonorris: jokes on you i can translate here👊🏼

✧

Text

franco: so, how did it go?

y/n: surprisingly really good

y/n: and it was fun to speak spanish in front of lando he was PISSED

franco: and with carlos? he's still alive which i'm surprised

y/n: i have to admit i might have been a little quick to judge him...

franco: i told you, he's a cool guy

y/n: yes i guess

franco: you guess?

franco: cause a little bird told me you two hit it off

y/n: forget carlos, i'm going to kill lando

✧

yourusername has started following carlossainz55

✧

♡liked by carlossainz55, francocolapinto, landonorris & others

yourusername: call me maybe

- yourfriend1

francocolapinto: para quién estás beboteando? [who are you trying to look good for?]

yourusername: you are too annoying for someone currently unemployed

francocolapinto: ouch😔

user3: franco what do you know??

landonorris: you look so pretty tonight yn

yourusername: flattery will get you nowhere mister

landonorris: please don't kill me i'm sorry😭

user4: what is going on let us innnnn

user5: she started following carlos and then posted this welcome back demi lovato following henry cavill

user7: she's crying for attention 🙄🙄 desperate behavior →carlossainz55 has blocked this user

user7: carlos blocked me????

user5: deserved

yourfriend1: i love you, you are so hot

yourusername: let's run away together

yourfriend1: deal 🤝🏼

✧

Text

carlos: hola, is this y/n?

carlos: i'm carlos

carlos: you gave me your number the other day

y/n: hola!

y/n: yes it's me

y/n: i'm glad you texted me

y/n: i didn't want to do this with lando there but i wanted to apologize for my behavior towards you

y/n: i might have misjudge some things on our first interaction

y/n: but still that doesn't justify my behavior so i'm sorry

carlos: i had a feeling you weren't a big fan of me but i wasn't sure what i had done lol

carlos: but don't worry about it, all is forgiven

carlos: i just wanted to say i had a great time hanging out

y/n: me too!!

carlos: now i'm curious, what annoyed you that day?

y/n: it's going to sound dumb...

y/n: but when you asked me about franco and me i thought you were undermining my job

carlos: i would never

carlos: i think you are incredibly talented and hard working, you earned this place

carlos: and since we are confessing things

carlos: i was asking about you and franco with the intention of finding out if you were single

y/n: oh

carlos: so, are you watching la finalissima tonight?

y/n: yess franco is coming over to watch it together, you?

carlos: i'm going to watch it with some friends

carlos: i have an idea, wanna make a bet?

y/n: mmm it depends

carlos: if spain wins you have to go on a date with me

y/n: you sound really confident

y/n: and if argentina wins?

carlos: i have to dress like a chili?

y/n: oh you are on

✧

yourusername: listos para lo que venga🇦🇷🤍 [ready for whatever happens]

view all comments

user10: confíen, tengo a los jugadores españoles en el freezer🕯️🕯️

user5: will this break my yn x carlos family?

francocolapinto: don't tell me, we finally got them to be civil😭

anyataylorjoy: vamos argentina🇦🇷🇦🇷 ♡liked by author

✧

carlossainz55 posted a new story

caption: i really need spain to win😉

replies

↪yourusername: mm i wonder why

carlossainz55: 🙈🙈

✧

Text

y/n: hey

carlos: hey everything alright? game is still in halftime

y/n: i know

y/n: but about that date

y/n: tomorrow?

carlos: si❤️

carlos: no puedo esperar [i can't wait]

[five-thousand-loaves-of-bread]

never watched the good doctor n never plan to. so maybe not good person talk about this. but never plan to watch it because in fact kinda hate it (mainly because once someone be ableist about high support needs autism n excuse it using shaun & say how they know what HSN is because they call shaun is, n quoting, “very high support needs” n he very. much. not. but anyway) — so this also give weight to what am going say

do see how people make fun of shaun (main character). like “i am a surgeon/sturgeon” memes n so much more. my favorite show house md & keep especially see meme compare house with sean autism to make fun of shaun—make fun of irony of “shaun be explicit autistic but bad autism representation & house not supposed to be / not explicit (depend on interpretation) autistic but somehow way better autism rep than shaun” situation. like:

[id: two meme compare sean with house about autism.

1: left side is shaun screaming/meltdown in “i am surgeon” scene with “bad autism rep” write on top. right side house in prison suit with “good autism rep” write on top.

2: twitter screenshot from rooster @/ househiscane. left is picture of shaun n have “autistic doctor” non capitalized on top. right is picture of house with stereo n “AUTISTIC doctor” on top, with “AUTISTIC” in all caps. at time of screenshot, have 648k views.

end id]

n again, never watched the good doctor. so maybe in show there truly part where not great n ableist n problematic autism rep. BUT.

from all these memes. n all these people justify how they hate sean how them make fun of shaun is okay. don’t see evidence for how shaun & show represent autism in some truly problematic way.

instead. see visibly autistic person. see people describe trait of visibly autistic person. see people make fun of visibly autistic traits. see a visibly autistic and low support needs person.

see same rhetoric used by non autistic AND AUTISTIC people to make fun of n be ableist to me, visible autistic (high support needs) person. that am embarrassing. that am stereotype. that “no autistic person act like this.” that “you make me embarrassed be autistic.” that am make autistic people look bad. the r word.

every single one of those thing, have heard it also be use call shaun.

versus. house, he’s asshole, he’s visibly asshole, n because of that he’s dynamic he’s well rounded. but he’s not visibly autistic.

n so suspect in big part, or even, entire unspoken point of these comparison, or meme against shaun, is because. house is not visibly autistic so relatable n thus good to audience of mainly high masking autustics. he the real autism rep. he the good autism rep. he the ACTUALLY autistic rep. shaun is visibly autistic n thus not.

from crowd that champion unmasking! be free! be yourself! but say nothing, or in this case nothing good, about people who cannot mask or be put in genuine life danger if choose unmask. from crowd that say autistic meltdowns not tantrum! normalize autistic meltdown! it’s okay! don’t record or make fun of or comment on someone’s worst moments! but make fun of visibly autistic person meltdown in public.

although should not be surprised. should not be! this same crowd that not know what visibly autistic actually is. or even not believe it even exist. same crowd that think unmasking will make them visibly autistic same way it make me visibly autistic. same crowd that think it mean just some occasional happy hand flapping. same crowd that call themselves visibly autistic because they do those occasional hand flapping n in next sentence complain about be told “but you don’t look autistic.” same crowd that say autism not have look. same crowd that permanently group autism into invisibly disability.

same crowd that cannot fathom autistic person different from them.

same crowd that bully n exclude n speak over n be ableist towards me.

like it the autism show to acceptable make fun of, it the autistic character to acceptable make fun of. it the show n character where u can let out all your offensive edgy ableist anti-autistic feelings, go mask off about it. it acceptable. everyone do it. even autistic people do it. especially autistic people do it. especially high masking autistic do it. autistic people who do it n justify it okay because they autistic n that grant them free pass.

criticize how any show represent autism badly problematically. that okay! that acceptable! that great! not telling you you can’t. — don’t doubt in the good doctor there not parts that make you wince in bad way because it speak terribly for autism.

but if all your “reasoning” for why that autism rep is. traits of visibly autistic person. or, (not applicable in this case), traits of high support needs & traits of level 2/3 autism. it’s not criticism you just ableist.

you all say visibly autistic people get enough rep already that it’s time for low support needs invisibly autistic high masking autistic women (& white—but shhh that part shouldn’t be say out loud) be in center of representation.

you all can’t even handle a visibly autistic character that’s low support needs and CISGENDER WHITE MAN.

once again. am hate this fucking show. n am here defending it.

is it genuinely bad rep or is character just visibly autistic.

[marshemillow]

"CP" is used by real child molesters to downplay the fact that they are traumatizing real children in real time by passing it off as just another porn category.

And you're okay with that, because you want to protect fictional characters made of paper and pixels more than real living breathing children with flesh and blood who can think and feel just like you do.

Thanks for proving my point anyway though, dumbass. Just fucking embrace being evil, you're not fooling anyone. Your moral outrage is as fake as the fictional characters you want to protect. Anyone can fucking see it if they have eyes. How would you feel knowing that people think watching fake cartoons is just as bad as the worst thing that ever happened to you? Would you be okay with people comparing your very real trauma to people shooting pixels in Counter Strike and saying it's the same thing? Would you not feel invalidated by people comparing real gun violence to a fucking video game and saying it's just as bad as that?

No, that's not the same thing, because in your mind, sex is different. Sex is special. It makes crimes worse by default because "attraction" makes everything worse and you don't see how that hurts real rape survivors because you think rapists are driven by attraction. That is literally TEXTBOOK purity culture. You believe in thought crimes, in the ability to be "evil" even if you haven't harmed anyone, which also hurts people with intrusive thoughts.

No no no, none of that fucking matters. Who cares about real cult survivors? Who cares about real victims of violent crimes? Who cares about real children? As long as your sensibilities are protected, as long as you don't have to be a little uncomfortable for even a SECOND because you refuse to take your own internet experience into your own hands, fuck everyone else.

So you try to use shame to control me. That's all you have. You use shame to manipulate all your anti friends, so surely it'll work on me, right? Even though you don't know my fucking life. You don't know what I watch, you don't know what I'm "addicted" to, but you throw that accusation at me anyway because you have no real arguments. You just think if something is gross to you personally, that must mean it's immoral.

But sure. I'm the one misusing terms. I'm sick of you people and your bullshit. It's literally nothing. It's a paper-thin mask you hide behind so you don't have to face all the people you've hurt by turning the internet into a cesspit of harassment and shame over FAKE FUCKING FICTIONAL CHARACTERS.

You may be content in your cesspit, but you're not dragging me down with you. Fuck off.

[lucygraysboy]

“it’s a wonder how they do it, right? i mean, they don’t even speak our language and somehow they just know if you’re a good or bad person, and what your intentions are. do you think they can read it off of our body language? or what’s happening in their heads?” thinking out loud, pale blue eyes fixated on the back of her head as his hand continues to travel across her back. over her shoulder, along the bumps at the nape of her neck, inching closer and closer to her other arm. olive skin covered in suds. “mhm,” he hums softly, praying she doesn’t turn around. he doesn’t want her to see him blushing like a schoolboy. “when i first walked in here, i thought that you’d ran away, but then i saw reva blue and began to wonder why you’d ever want to leave her behind… and started to question my own sanity, asked myself if you were real or a figment of my imagination,” he admits, chuckling sheepishly because it’s embarrassing to a certain degree. “i will never cause you any harm, lucy gray. i just need you to know that, okay?” even if she won’t instantly put all her trust in him. “and if ever want to go your separate way, i won’t go after you unless you want me to.” he’s not his brother. “and your favorite dessert is blueberry pie.” noted, he remembers. but he still leaves enough room for her to correct him if he’s wrong. “but not all desserts make you happy? that doesn’t make sense,” he playfully argues, just trying to provoke her to convince him otherwise. “horses.” what an easy question, he thinks. “i love and respect all animals.” even the squirrel that became their dinner as hard to believe as it may be. “birds and dogs and cats and cows and butterflies, but horses are just so special. my mother’s friend, back at the capitol, had stables bigger than whole neighborhoods in district twelve. plenty of stunning thoroughbreds. most of them had probably been imported from district eleven or something. anyway, there was this one chestnut mare that i really admired, could watch her for hours. she could run so fast…” eyes alight at the memory, but then he realizes that he’s been rambling for a long time and must be boring her to death. “sorry, got a little carried away. um, what’s yours?” he inquires, meaning her favorite animal. too bad there are no horses in district thirteen. it’s been so long since the last time he was near one… “thanks for trustin’ me enough.” to show him the wound on her leg. thank god he had that jar of iodine with him. “and how will that be your fault? don’t blame yourself for things that happened because other people put you in a certain position. what were you supposed to do? grab a brush on your way out? you had more important matters to worry about. it’s really not your fault, lucy gray. it’s not like you’re a slob by nature and let this happen out of laziness. you’ve been through a lot. it’s only natural,” he softly corrects, reaching around her petite frame and handing her the soapy washcloth so that she can scrub her legs and torso. calloused fingertips sinking beneath the surface, getting wet before gathering her long hair with nothing but affection. “we won’t be cuttin’ it to your ears. if we can’t get all the tangles out, we’ll braid it and… well, maybe my mother,” the one who’s most likely sick with worry back in thirteen, “will find a way to help us.” but right now, he’ll focus on combing through these pretty locks with his fingers, careful not to pull too hard.

“i think they can definitely tell, who’s a good person and who’s tryin’ to bring harm. animal’s are intuitive like that.” lucy gray reassures, smiling softly as her arm stays around her bent knees, her free arm tracing circles in the water. “oh…yeah?” brow lifting, looking over her shoulder at him before eyes glance back towards the water. shying up momentarily again. “of course not.” leave him as a single parent. a twitch of amusement pulling at her lips before softening at the thought, thinking how she can’t run. but even it she could, would she? not… exactly. not when she doesn’t have a gnawing fear in her chest yet towards him. just like the animals they speak of… if she doesn’t have a reason or sense a reason, she won’t leave. just like deer and birds, she too has those same instincts. “sort of. i mean, i can choose a favorite dessert. i can choose a favorite month. but i can’t choose a favorite color, animal or flower. all flowers, colors and animals make me happy. hard to choose just one.” a soft laugh emits, gently shrugging her thin shoulders. “what’s your favorite animal?” questioning before hearing the awful story of the man he knew and before too long her face is contorting into disgust and stomach churning, vomit reflexes on the rise when he starts saying thing about smells. “lord, then, i sure am lucky you found me in time. i might’ve suffered the same thing. that’s sickenin’, bless his poor soul havin’ to suffer all through that.” feeling sympathy and disgust, quickly trying to think of something else. she definitely doesn’t want to suffer like that and scared up to keep watching her wounds. “i hope not, i really like my hair. but then again… that’ll be my fault, maybe i’ll learn.” scolding herself— to at least brush her fingers through it and keep it from getting so matted. “it’d be devastatin’ cutting it off to my ears.” that gives her the notion to quickly start trying with her fingers to start pulling some knots out, feeling a little panicky on needing the answer if she’ll get to spare it or not. the rubs on her back feel so pleasant, too. the most soothing feeling she’s felt in awhile but she can’t exactly relax with her hair on the line.

[ruewrote]

𝑡𝑎𝑘𝑒 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟 ℎ𝑒𝑎𝑟𝑡 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑔𝑜.

PAIRING: jj maybank x fem!reader WARNINGS: jealously, arguments, no use of y/n GENRE: angst SONG INSPIRATION: is there someone else? by the weeknd WORD COUNT: 4.1k REQUESTED: yes NOTE: can you tell that me breaking no contact didn't go well?

navigation | ask | jj maybank masterlist

you were tired. not the kind of tired you could fix with a good night’s sleep or an extra cup of coffee. 

no, this was deeper. heavier. it had been weighing on you for months, maybe longer, and no matter how much you told yourself you were done.

that this time would be the last, you always found yourself right back where you started, with jj.

it wasn’t the kissing that made you feel this way, not exactly. you liked kissing him. god, you loved kissing him. the way his lips tasted faintly of weed and beer, the way he held you like you were the only thing grounding him. 

the way his stupid grin would soften just for you, his cocky bravado melting into something almost vulnerable. for a few fleeting hours, it felt like everything you wanted, everything you’d dreamed of since the first time you realised how deep your feelings for him ran.

but it was never real. not when the alcohol was buzzing in his veins, not when he whispered things he’d never say in the harsh light of day. “you know it’s always been you, right?” his voice would crack sometimes, and you’d feel your heart breaking and healing all at once. 

or there’d be the quiet, desperate promises. “one day, i’m gonna do right by you. i swear.” and for a moment, you’d believe him.

you always believed him.

but then the sun would rise, and jj would be gone. not gone in the literal sense. no, he’d still be around, cracking jokes, causing trouble, being him. but it was like the version of him you got in the middle of the night didn’t exist in the daylight. 

instead, you’d see him with someone else, his arm slung around some girl, his attention completely absorbed by her like you’d never even crossed his mind.

it wasn’t just one time. it wasn’t even a few times. it was a pattern, and it was breaking you. because as much as you wanted to hate him for it, you couldn’t. you couldn’t hate him for being who he was, for not giving you the thing you so desperately wanted but he so clearly wasn’t ready to give.

you hated the way you let him in, over and over again. the way you believed the things he said, even when he never followed through on them. you hated the way your heart sped up when he looked at you, even though you knew that look wouldn’t last. 

you hated the way your chest ached every time you saw him with someone else, the way you had to swallow the lump in your throat and force a smile like it didn’t matter.

but it did matter. it mattered too much.

so, you told yourself you were done. this time, for real. no more stolen kisses, no more whispered promises. no more jj.

moving on wasn’t easy, though. it wasn’t like you could just flip a switch and stop caring. but you tried. you told yourself it was okay to look at other guys, to flirt a little, to remind yourself that there were people out there who might actually be able to give you what jj couldn’t.

at first, it felt hollow. empty. none of the guys you talked to really clicked, and you started to wonder if you were just wasting your time. but then there was jackson.

jackson wasn’t like jj. he didn’t have that wild spark, that untamed energy that drew people in. but maybe that was a good thing. because jackson was steady. reliable. the kind of guy who made you feel safe instead of uncertain.

he wasn’t one for grand gestures or flashy moves. but he was thoughtful in ways that caught you off guard. like when he texted you first thing in the morning, asking how you slept. or when he remembered little things about you. your favorite coffee order, the song you hummed under your breath when you thought no one was listening.

and maybe the chemistry wasn’t instant. maybe there weren’t fireworks or that pull you’d always felt with jj. but there was something else. something quieter. something warmer.

still, there were moments when doubt crept in. 

late at night, when your phone buzzed and you half hoped it was him. even though you knew it wouldn’t be. or when you caught yourself comparing the two of them, wondering if you’d ever feel the same fire you felt for jj with someone else.

the doubt lingered. refusing to leave no matter how much you tried to shake it. 

the room had quieted down, the hum of conversation replaced by the soft rustling of the evening. the others had scattered. pope was buried in his notes on the porch, sarah and john b had disappeared into the twinkie for some ‘alone time,’ and kie had made herself scarce, muttering something about a late-night walk.

that left just you and jj, sprawled on opposite ends of the couch. you had tucked yourself into the corner, scrolling through your phone, a quiet giggle escaping your lips now and then. it wasn’t intentional, but each laugh seemed to draw jj’s attention, his eyes flickering toward you.

“what’s so funny over there?” he finally asked, his tone light but laced with curiosity.

you glanced up at him briefly, your lips still tugged into a soft smile. "nothing," you said casually, shrugging as you turned your attention back to your phone.

he shifted, sitting up slightly, leaning toward you, his eyebrows raised. "nah, come on. don’t give me that. who’s got you giggling like that? share with the class."

you hesitated, your fingers tightening around your phone as you debated whether or not to answer. you weren’t doing anything wrong, not really, but something about admitting you were texting jackson felt... complicated.

"it’s just jackson," you said finally, keeping your tone light. "he sent me something funny."

jj froze for a split second, so brief you might have missed it if you weren’t paying attention. but then he leaned back, his smirk slipping into place. "oh, jackson, huh?" he drawled, his voice dripping with something that wasn’t quite teasing but wasn’t far from it either. 

"what’s he got you laughing about? some dad joke or something?"

you rolled your eyes, trying to ignore the way his sudden shift made your stomach twist. "it’s not a big deal, jayj," you said, shrugging again. "just a funny meme. relax."

"relax? i’m totally relaxed," he shot back, but there was an edge to his voice now, subtle but obvious to you. he stretched out on the couch, his arm draping over the back, his eyes fixed on you. "i mean, good for you, right? jackson seems like... a solid guy."

you could feel the tension creeping into the air between you, and you hated it. you hated how jj could make something so small feel so heavy, how his words, his tone, could tangle you up inside even when you tried so hard not to let them.

"yeah, he is," you said quietly, your eyes still on your phone. "he’s nice."

"nice," jj repeated, the word rolling off his tongue like it left a bad taste in his mouth. "that’s great. real exciting."

you looked up at him then, your gaze meeting his, and for a moment, the cocky mask he wore slipped. there was something raw in his eyes, something he couldn’t quite hide no matter how hard he tried.

"why do you care?" you asked softly, the question hanging between you.

he opened his mouth to answer, then closed it again, his jaw tightening. for a moment, it looked like he might actually say something real, something honest. but then he shook his head, his smile sliding back into place.

"i don’t," he said with a shrug, his voice light and breezy. "just curious, that’s all. you know me, always gotta know what’s going on."

but you weren’t convinced, and from the way he avoided your eyes, you knew he wasn’t either.

you turned back to your phone, trying to focus on jackson’s message, but jj’s presence was impossible to ignore. the warmth of his presence, the way his leg brushed against yours when he shifted. everything about him pulled at you, even when you didn’t want it to.

the tension had been building for days, his snide comments had started small. barely noticeable jabs that you brushed off with a roll of your eyes. but they didn’t stop. every interaction seemed to carry a sharper edge, a hidden layer of something he wouldn’t address. and while he never said anything outright about what had been between you, it was there, unspoken, colouring every word that left his mouth.

by the end of the week, it had become unbearable.

you were sitting at home, sprawled on your bed with the tv on for background noise, trying to find some semblance of peace. but jj had shown up unannounced, like he always did, at first, he just hovered, pacing around your room, muttering something about john b, then pope, then kie. and when that didn’t hold his attention, he turned his focus to you.

"really?" he scoffed, nodding toward your phone. "let me guess, you’re texting jackson. again."

you froze, your grip on the phone tightening as your pulse spiked. he was baiting you. again, but this time, you weren’t in the mood to play along. "what’s your problem, jj?" you said, not looking up.

"my problem?" he said, his voice cutting as his eyes flicked over you. "i don’t have a problem. just didn’t realise you were into guys who need a manual to figure you out. guess you finally found someone slow enough to keep up."

that was it. that was the breaking point.

you stood up so fast your phone fell onto the floor, your chest heaving as you rounded on him. "what the hell is wrong with you?" you snapped, your voice louder than you’d intended. 

"you’ve been like this all week, taking cheap shots, acting like a total asshole. why? because i’m trying to move on? because i’m finally doing something for myself instead of waiting around for you to get your shit together?"

jj blinked, startled by the sudden outburst, but his defenses went up just as quickly. his jaw tightened, and he crossed his arms over his chest, leaning back slightly. "i don’t know what you’re talking about," he said, his voice colder now. "i’m just calling it like i see it."

"calling it like you see it?" you repeated, your voice shaking with anger. "no, jj. you’re being a coward. you can’t handle the fact that i’m not waiting around for you anymore, so you’re lashing out like some jealous boyfriend. grow up!"

"jealous?" he scoffed, his laugh bitter. "of jackson? please. the guy you’re settling for?”

"stop it," you snapped, your voice breaking slightly. "just stop. you don’t get to do this. you don’t get to act like this when you’re the one who’s been stringing me along for months. you don’t get to pick and choose when to care about me. you either want me, jj, or you don’t. but i can’t keep doing this with you."

for a moment, the room was silent, your words hanging heavy in the air between you. jj’s expression flickered, his mask slipping for just a second, and you saw something raw in his eyes. guilt. pain. maybe even regret. but it wasn’t enough. not this time.

"that’s what i thought," you said, your voice quieter now but still stern. "you can’t even say it, can you? you can’t admit that you don’t want me, but you can’t stand the thought of someone else making me happy either. that’s not love, jj. that’s just being selfish."

he opened his mouth to say something, but you didn’t give him the chance. you shook your head, turning away from him as tears stung the corners of your eyes. "just go," you said, your voice trembling. "i can’t do this anymore."

but he didn’t move. he stayed frozen in the same spot, staring at you, like he was waiting for something.

you whipped around to face him, your hands shaking. "why the hell are you still here?" you snapped, fury rising in your chest. "are you really just gonna stand there? if you won’t leave, then i will."

without another word, you turned and stormed down the stairs, the adrenaline making your steps faster, sharper. you grabbed the door, slamming it behind you so hard the house seemed to tremble. 

you didn’t stop. your feet pounded the pavement, the cool night air biting at your skin, but you didn’t care. in all your anger, you hadn’t even grabbed a jacket, and now the chill of the night was cutting through you. 

you found yourself heading to the beach without even thinking. the sound of the waves crashing against the shore was distant, muffled by the pounding of your pulse in your ears.

you reached the sand, and collapsed down, too exhausted to care about the discomfort. the wind howled around you, you pulled your knees to your chest, wrapping your arms around them as if you could hold yourself together that way. 

the tears that had been threatening for so long finally broke free, flooding down your cheeks as the full weight of it hit you.

you couldn’t stop the sobs, each one shaking through your body. it felt like every bit of the anger, the hurt, the confusion, and the love you had poured into jj over the months came crashing down all at once. it wasn’t fair.

none of it was. you had given him everything, trusted him, believed his empty promises, and now... you were sitting alone on the beach in the dark, freezing cold, with nothing left but the ache in your chest.

you buried your face into your knees, the salt of your tears mixing with the salt of the ocean breeze, as you let the emptiness swallow you whole.

the tears had stopped, but they clung to your skin, leaving long streaks down your cheeks. your eyes were swollen, your lips tender and raw from the sobbing, and you just sat there, numb, staring out at the dark expanse of the ocean. 

the waves crashed relentlessly, matching the rhythm of the ache inside you, but you couldn't bring yourself to care. 

you had no idea how much time had passed. minutes? hours? the world felt like it had gone quiet around you, just you and the ocean. and then, the sound of footsteps. at first, you didn’t acknowledge it. 

you figured it was just the wind or some passing stranger, but the steps grew closer. you held your breath, the space around you suddenly feeling claustrophobic, like everything in you knew who was coming, even before you saw him.

the sound of a thud broke the silence as someone sat down beside you. you turned slowly, the muscles in your neck aching, but there he was. of course, it was him.

for a moment, all you could do was stare, the disbelief hitting you. your chest tightened again, and before you could stop it, a tear slipped down your cheek. you wiped it away angrily, but it didn't matter. the damage was already done.

a bitter, humourless laugh escaped you, the sound raw and broken. "why can’t you just leave me alone?" you muttered, the words barely audible. you tried to look away, but your eyes wouldn’t shift from him. 

you hated the way your heart twisted at the sight of him, even now, even after everything.

jj didn’t say anything at first, just sitting there beside you, his presence heavy. you could feel his gaze on you, but you couldn’t bring yourself to meet it. the silence stretched between you, thick with unspoken things.

you glanced back over to him to find his own eyes were swollen, lips and nose tinged pink from what you could only guess were from his own breakdown, his hands still trembling as they rested at his sides. 

you hated how, despite all the pain he’d caused, you still found him pretty in this moment. the vulnerability in him, the way he wore his brokenness so openly, it made your chest ache. it was the last thing you wanted to feel. 

he didn’t speak. neither did you. it felt like you were both waiting for the other to break first. but it wasn’t until the sound of the waves crashing against the shore felt too deafening that he finally spoke, his voice cracked, raw.

“i… i’m sorry," he began, voice thick with something like regret. "i’ve been a fucking idiot, okay? i know i have. and i don’t know how to fix it. i don’t know what i’m doing, or what i’ve done to you… but i need you to know that it’s not because i don’t care.”

his words were stuttering, full of shame, but the way he said it, the way his hands fidgeted, his desperation was impossible to ignore.

“i–god, i fucked this up, didn’t i? i… i always do this. i push, i pull, i make you feel like shit, and then… then i can’t stand the thought of losing you. but every time you walk away, i don’t know how to make you stay. i never know what the right thing to say is, and i just... i just hurt you again and again. i’m so fucking sorry."

you were still staring out at the ocean, fighting the hurt that sat heavy in your chest, fighting the urge to listen to the softness in his voice, to hear him out. but you couldn’t. not yet.

“i’m not asking for your forgiveness,” he said, his voice breaking. “i don’t deserve it. but i need you to know how much i fucking care about you. more than i know how to say. more than i can ever show. it’s like i don’t know what to do with it, so i make everything worse. but you–you matter to me more than anything else in my stupid fucking life. and if you can find it in you to forgive me... if you can just look at me the way you used to, i’ll do anything. i swear, i’ll do whatever it takes.”

his voice was softer now, quieter, almost pleading as he inched closer to you on the sand, his face full of regret. his eyes searched yours, desperate to find any trace of warmth, any sign that you still cared.

“i’m begging you,” he said, his voice trembling. “please. i can’t lose you. i can’t. i know i fucked up, but please. give me the chance to make it right. please don’t walk away from me. not like this.”

the words hung in the air between you, his desperate plea reverberating in the cold night as you sat there, trembling from the weight of it all. your chest felt tight, the pain of everything that had happened pressing on you, threatening to suffocate you. 

his words reached you, pierced through the numbness you had been trying to build around yourself. but you weren’t ready yet, not ready to let go of the anger, the hurt. you wanted to stay mad at him, wanted to keep your distance, to protect yourself.

but you couldn’t.

you felt the floodgates open, and the dam you’d so carefully built up around your heart cracked, letting the years of suppressed feelings break free in one overwhelming rush.

the tears came first, unbidden, streaking down your cheeks as your breath caught in your throat. you wiped at your face, trying to hold it together, but the weight of everything, the heartache that had built up for so long, was impossible to ignore. you turned toward him, your voice shook as you spoke, barely a whisper at first.

“you don’t get it,” you said, the rawness in your voice making it hard to speak. “you don’t get how much i wanted this… how much i wanted you.”

your hands were trembling now, your heart hammering as the words poured out, no longer able to keep them locked inside. “i’ve been holding on to this... this stupid hope, waiting for you to realise how i feel. but i couldn’t do it anymore, jj. i couldn’t keep waiting for you to come around. for you to see me. to see us. every time i tried to let you in, you pushed me away. every time you said you cared, i believed you, and you made me feel like an idiot for it."

you paused, trying to steady your breath as your chest tightened again. 

“i kept telling myself i was done. that i was over it. that i could move on. but every time i saw you with someone else, every time you pulled away, it tore me apart. it felt like i was drowning in it, jj. and i kept asking myself why i kept putting myself through that, why i kept letting you hurt me. but the truth is, i can’t stop wanting you. i can’t stop needing you.”

you took a shaky breath, your eyes brimming with tears again, but this time, they felt different. this time, they were from the depths of everything you’d been holding back. the fear. the hurt. the longing.

“i can’t do it anymore,” you whispered. “i need you. i’ve needed you for so long, but you never, never, let me be close enough. and it’s breaking me. it has been for so long.”

"i don’t want to be this broken, desperate person anymore," you continued, the tears coming faster now. "i can’t keep waiting for you to make up your mind. but god… god, i need you to choose me. i need you to finally see me. not as some game, not as someone you can just toss aside when it's not convenient for you anymore. i need to know you’re here for me. that you want me too.”

you looked up at him then, your heart in your throat, his eyes were wide, filled with a mix of guilt, pain. “i need you, jj,” you said again, your voice barely more than a whisper now. "i don’t care if it’s messy. i don’t care if it’s hard. i just need to know you’re here… that you’re really here."

the weight of it all hung in the air between you, and you felt exposed. but for the first time in what felt like forever, you didn’t care about hiding anymore. you were done pretending you didn’t need him. done pretending you could walk away from what had been growing between you for so long.

he reached out, tentatively at first, like he was scared you’d pull away. his fingers brushed against yours, a gentle touch that seemed to break the tension in the air.

“hey… hey, look at me.” his voice was softer than you had ever heard it, like he was trying to steady himself, trying to make sure he didn’t fuck this up. he moved closer to you, his other hand resting carefully on your cheek, wiping away a tear with the pad of his thumb.

“i’m here,” he said, his voice low, but full of conviction now. “i’m right here, and i’ve always been here, in my messed up way. i know i’ve hurt you. i know i’ve been a fucking idiot. i don’t deserve you, but damn it, i’m not going anywhere. i don’t want anyone else. it’s always been you, even when i was too stupid to admit it to myself. but i’m not afraid anymore.”

he let out a shaky breath, and you could see how real he was being. it wasn’t just the guilt on his face anymore; it was something else, something pure. it was like he was finally letting himself be vulnerable with you, really showing you what he’d been hiding all this time.

“i’m so sorry for making you feel like you had to fight for me,” he whispered, his voice cracking slightly. “i should’ve chosen you from the start. i should’ve seen you. really seen you, for who you are. not just the person who’s always there when i need them. you’re more than that. you always have been.”

his forehead pressed gently against yours, and you could feel his breath mingling with yours. his hand moved to your back, pulling you closer, as if he was afraid that if he let you go, you’d slip away forever.

“i need you too,” he murmured, his lips brushing your ear. “i’m not perfect. i’m never gonna be perfect. but i’ll spend the rest of my life showing you how much you mean to me. because you are my choice. always. you’re all i want.”

the warmth of his words, the tenderness in his touch, broke something open in you, you allowed yourself to lean into him fully. 

all the walls you had built around your heart started to crumble, piece by piece.

comments and reblogs are appreciated ˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗

© ruewrote 2024.

[that-hazbin]

Sorta AU/story idea where Alastor's a serial killer but he doesn't... completely realize that he's a serial killer.

He's super mentally Not Okay with a whole load of traumatic baggage, and sometimes when he gets past a stress threshold, he sort of... blacks out. Not faint, exactly, but his body moves on autopilot while his consciousness is just. Not there.

The first time it happened, he was fourteen. His father had beaten him black and blue, and left him limp on the floor to go beat Alastor's mother. When Alastor came to the realization that his mother stopped moving, his vision went blurry.

When he regained consciousness, his father was on the floor, bleeding from the head, eyes glazed over. It looked like he fell and hit himself on the corner of the dining table. Alastor lost both his parents on the same day.

After that, Alastor started having "episodes" a bit more often. A majority of the time, he manages to get home, and when he wakes up, he's hiding under his bed or in his closet, confused as to how he even got home. He doesn't want to be admitted into an asylum, of course, so he keeps quiet about this.

Sometimes, though?

Sometimes, he'll wake up knee deep in water, staring into the dark of a bayou. Sometimes, he'll wake up half-submerged in his bath, red going down the drain, with no clue as to where he's injured. Sometimes, the person who was screaming at him before the episode hit just went... missing the next day.

Alastor keeps quiet.

Naturally, when Alastor dies, he goes to hell. He doesn't remember the crimes, but he did commit them regardless. Of course, when people ask him what he did to end up down there, he can't give a real answer. The truth of the matter is that he doesn't know. Sure, he has... suspicions. Theories. But he doesn't know.

Things happen. He has several black out episodes in Hell before they simply stop happening, because he's stressed all the time and he can't just block every single second of every day from memory. He learns how to consciously survive in hell. Makes a name for himself.

Things roughly stay truthful to canon from there.

Then, one day, Charlie has a brilliant idea for a hotel activity. Part of redemption means acknowledging what brought you to hell to begin with, and what you can do now to make up for those actions! They go around the room, talking about the sins they committed, and what they can do now to improve. Alastor fully intends to stay out of the activity, he's not working towards redemption after all, but... Of course, Lucifer has to taunt.

Lucifer: What, you're just gonna sit around judging us?

Charlie: Er, dad—

Alastor: Hilarious coming from you, your majesty, truly. In any case, your memory seems to be failing you, I'm not here for redemption. I have no reason to participate.

Lucifer: Uh huh, neither is the bartender or the maid, you think you can be exempt just because you're staff? I'm the King of Hell and you don't see me skipping out. And here I would've thought you would have taken the chance to brag about the fucked up shit you did up there.

Charlie: Hey, guys, I don't think—

Alastor: Husk and Nifty are grown adults who are perfectly capable of making their own decisions. I am also a grown adult, and my decisions don't need to reflect theirs.

Lucifer: Oh, I see, you're a coward then?

Alastor: Believe whatever you want to, it makes no difference to me.

Lucifer: Sure it doesn't. Why don't we make this a game, huh? I'll guess your sins, and you stop me when I get it right.

Charlie: Dad, Alastor—

Lucifer: Can't imagine you fucked before marriage or anything, I mean, you scream prude. Bet you died a virgin.

Alastor: Hah, I wouldn't know. Are you done with your childish taunts, or are you going to allow your daughter to continue?

Lucifer stops dead, both because of the reminder that he's interrupting Charlie's activity, and also because he's replaying Alastor sentence back in his head. And, as the father of lies himself, he realizes that Alastor... wasn't lying when he said he didn't know.

Charlie: Great, yes, thank you Alastor! So, anyways—

Lucifer: Wait.

Charlie: Dad!

Lucifer: Seriously, wait. Bellhop, what the fuck do you mean you wouldn't know?

Angel: ... Oh shit.

Alastor: ... Charlie, continue your activity.

Charlie: Uh.

Lucifer: Oh, FUCK YOU! No, what the fuck did you mean by that?! What, were you like, drugged or—

Angel: HEY LET'S TALK ABOUT MY DEEP DARK PAST AS A MEMBER OF A MAFIA FAMILY!

Charlie: YES THANK YOU ANGEL LET'S TALK ABOUT IT! I'M VERY PROUD OF YOU FOR VOLUNTEERING!

Alastor gets the fuck out of dodge, and Lucifer finally gets the hint that he definitely stepped on a landmine that he very much should have not touched. Unfortunately, Lucifer alongside everyone in the hotel are left with a misunderstanding regarding Alastor's history.

[zshiftsrealties]

HOW SHIFTING FOUND ME A SECOND TIME, AND HOW TO BELIEVE SHIFTING IS REAL?

this is my personal take on the topic, and i'm not saying everyone will benefit from this advice because different people work differently. but this worked for me, and I hope that if you find this; this'll work for you too.

for me personally, I don't think "scientific proof" ever helped me believe shifting was real. I found the CIA document back in 2020-2021, and it still didn't change my view on shifting whatsoever. yeah, it was proof that it was real, but my mind didn't accept that. maybe "science" wasn't proof enough because to me science is always lagging behind everything else (from a religious aspect).

even after learning about how the mind works, the subconscious, etc etc and everything else and how it's proved by science still didn't help me at all.

eventually, I left the shifting community, and shifting in general. I completely stopped and thought "oh maybe once i'm older, and i'm somewhere with no noise, ideal setting, blah blah blah, I'll pick it up again". bullshit, I know. but because I just didn't believe it, I felt like making an excuse to not let myself feel bad.

so now, i'm completely out of the "shifting every night" phase, and back to "normal" routine. however, anytime I would watch some show, anime, movie, even some video on my feed of some beautiful place — anything, my mind would go "oh, I can shift there" or "oh, I'd like to shift there". but still, I discarded that thought.

then last year (2024), I decided to watch My Hero Academia from the beginning once again (cause why not), and throughout, I kept thinking "I want to shift there". and then, Shigaraki/AFO "killed" Katsuki in the Final War Arc. I cried ugly for so long, and kept thinking "no no no, that's not happening. i'm going to shift there and beat Shigaraki up for this" (I didn't even like Katsuki back then).

and so, I started to search, once again, about shifting. shifting storytimes, tiktoks, anything; everything. keep in mind I still had the doubt if shifting was even real.

now onto the topic of how to believe shifting is real? how I believed shifting was real, was by finding this one shifter on youtube; Cadmus (Shifting with Cad). I watched her videos, and the sincerity in her tone, the glimmer in her eyes when she would be telling an experience, and that smile of "relief" of finally getting to experience something so amazing yet so simple, is what made me believe in shifting.

obviously, I didn't just see her once and go "I totally believe it's real". it was a process, a slightly longer one, but one that was absolutely natural. anytime I would think that it was all a big lie, i'd think back to her and go "she can't be lying, I just know it. and that's what slowly, but surely made me believe that it is infact real.

so my advice to anyone who, despite knowing the scientific evidence of it, and knowing the science behind it all, still doubts shifting; is that find someone, a creater, a blogger, just anyone in general who, when you hear them talk about their experiences, you feel that they're absolutely not lying, even with all the doubts you have, and believe them until you don't need to believe them to believe that shifting is real.

it's okay to doubt, you don't have to beat yourself up over them. just know that at the end of the day, the world you see exists only through you, and if your eyes were to close the very next moment, your world would end with you. so believe the craziest things ever without logic, because you simply can.

[hiding-under-the-willow]

If the hermit recap team is a paranormal investigation group I wonder what everyone thinks of them, at least Ghost-wise. Are they good at their job? Or do the ghosts watch them flail?

Okay so there's this episode in the show where the main characters attempt to get the ghosts to put on a big show of haunting the house for a bunch of paranormal investigators so they can charge people for ghost tours but all of the ghosts go on strike so they have to fake a haunting in a house that's already haunted. There is a subplot in this episode where a pair of ghosts spend the entire episode presenting a fake radio show to a recording device that's supposed to pick up ghosts, only for it to be revealed at the end that it doesn't actually work and it didn't pick them up at all. I was thinking about this episode both when creating Joe's character and when I decided I wanted the recap team to be reoccurring paranormal investigator characters.

Because I think it would be pretty funny if Joe, who was a radio host in life and can be heard through radios, recording devices, and other technology in death, did this whole bit, only for the team to come back at the end to pick up their recording device, listen back to the recording, briefly getting excited, only for Pix to go "Wait a second, I know that voice, wasn't this guy on the radio back in the 90s?" And they assume that Grian and Joel just played like a rerun recording of one of Joe's old shows as part of the fake haunting, meanwhile Joe can't decide if he should be fuming because his existence is being ignored or if he should be beaming because someone still recognized him some 20 years after his death.

And then they show back up at Grian and Joel's door two weeks later like "We checked this recording, it doesn't exist. Anywhere. And according to our research this guy died on your property. This recording is real. This kind of proof is unprecedented. Please let us investigate your house again."

And so Grian and Joel once again see the opportunity for money and accept. The ghosts continue to stay wary, refusing to directly interact with them, but they tend to just. Create proof on accident as they go about their normal wacky business. And so we have this dynamic where the recap crew keeps coming back to investigate, getting some kind of absurd evidence of ghosts, getting accused of faking it because the house already has a bad reputation for fake hauntings, and the recordings they're getting are absurd, and so they keep having to come back to try to get more.

I like to think Joe starts fucking with Pix by only talking to him when there's no cameras rolling, and so the two end up with a pretty funny relationship where Pix can have full conversations with Joe and yet can never manage to get another recording of him no matter how sneaky he thinks he's being about it.

Half of their job just becomes trying to deal with this one stupid absurdly haunted house that is dragging their entire reputation through the mud. And Grian gets to be like "Ha, yeah, you should try living with them." While trying to skirt around the fact that he can just straight up see and talk to all of them. Plus there's whatever the fuck is going on next door.

Just. this should be the general state of things by the time it's all over

I think it'd be really funny actually if Pix managed to figure out down to the most minute of details what the fuck is happening between these two haunted ass properties and the people and ghosts living in them but the whole experience has run him so ragged and made him sound so insane that everyone thinks he's just lost it and no one believes him. Ghosts so fucking annoying he has to either retire or become a disgraced conspiracy theory youtuber who exclusively talks about the ghosts in these two houses. Everyone thinks he's had some kind of mental break and honestly he probably has but everything he's saying is actually correct.

[bitletsanddrabbles]

Island of the Procrastinating Brain

I swear, my brain is actively trying to drive me insane.

Back in 2022 it came up with a plot for @alex51324 's "Island of the Gays" where the Duke of Crowborough comes to the Island because, well, by this point the man's less of a human being than he is a walking bundle of neurosis. I got through a couple of scenes before my brain got tired and stalled out, but I still have a good frame work. Every once in awhile, I come back and poke at it and get out a few more sentences. Maybe even a paragraph or two.

Yeah, have I mentioned I'm not a fast writer?

And Phillip does NOT want to deal with his issues and Thomas does NOT want to deal with Phillip, which, okay, FAIR, but that's kinda the point of the whole thing. But in the meantime my brain still wants to write Phillip on the Island, so what's it done?

Come up with a sequel, naturally!

And it really, really wants to write this sequel despite the fact I can't do it properly until I've written the first piece, which neither my brain or my characters seems interested in, because they are all PUNKS, but my brain will NOT stop thinking about this hypothetical sequel which, at this point, will never be written.

So I'm just going to write out the summary for the thing here, in case anyone's curious and wants a laugh, because I can and maybe it'll galvanize the lump of grey cells in my skull to be productive. Maybe. Not holding my breath.

Things you need to know before going into this:

Random.org has decided that Thomas is married to Peter Fitzroy for this one, which is kinda important for Thomas's characterization.

Phillip only kinda counts as human at this point, but he's actively trying to fix that. The results are mixed.

It was inspired by a couple of polls I ran when I was trying to figure out where I was taking the first piece (hey! I have the last scene written!) and the suggestions that Phillip might like working in some sort of architectural field (believe that was from @o-rchidae) and that he wind up married with an older working class bloke who would not take his shit.

Right then. Let's go.

-

Okay, so, this takes place a couple of years after the Walking Disaster of Crowborough arrived. At one point he was tapped to help with building or repairs or some such and he realized he liked it, so he's taken to studying books on building and architecture and has joined up with the local work crew. The problem is, he's basically teaching himself out of books and then applying it to real life, so he keeps getting ideas about "Say, why don't we do this thing THIS way?" and while it'll seem like a reasonable idea, there is, in fact, a very good reason NOT to do it that way, but because a) he's a Duke and b) a bunch of people hate him, on general principle if nothing else, everyone just goes "Oh, okay, sure" and the do it that way and…it fails. And the people who hate him laugh and it's obvious that EVERYONE knew it was a bad idea and he gets frustrated, but he wont' say it, because a) Duke and b) boys don't cry.

And this goes on for awhile.

After a bit, though, a new guy shows up who has lots of experience building things. It was kinda his job before he got here. He is educated in the ways of Building Things and knows what's up. He's also at least ten years Phillip's senior and has limited patience for upper class twits, so when he joins the crew and is informed there's this know-it-all-Duke who's always demanding they do things his way (by which we mean 'making suggestions that everyone just goes along with'), even though it's stupid and wastes time and resources, this guy goes "Pff, not on MY watch!"

And sure enough, the next time Phillip makes one of his suggestions, instead of "Yeah, sure, okay" he gets "We're not doing that." Why? "'Cause it's a stupid idea that won't work." WHY? "Because (insert full explanation of why the thing wouldn't work)." And Phillip stops asking and the rest of the crew cheers and laughs at how the old guy sure showed him and they anticipate an end to the questions.

THIS TOTALLY BACKFIRES.

Instead Phillip, who had actually been kinda slowing down on the suggestions over time, is making ALL of the suggestions, ALL of the times, and arguing every last aspect of the suggestion with Old Timer before giving up. The crew can't put up a fence without an argument. Old Timer starts calling Phillip 'Phil'. Rather than tell him to stop, Phillip just starts calling Old Timer by a similar nickname, which Old Timer ignores, because not giving in to his own trick, oh no. There's talk of starting a police department in case they murder each other.

After this has gone on for awhile there is a Big Dramatic Plot Twist and the Old Timer goes out into the woods for something and…doesn't come back in a timely manner. He stays gone long enough for people to get worried and mount a search. To everyone's shock, Phillip wants to come. He's quite insistent on the point. They finally agree to put him in Thomas's party because he and Thomas "get along now" (read: Thomas has spent enough time with Peter talking him down that he can tolerate Phillip's presence under the right circumstances as long as he doesn't say anything). The parties go out and before long, Thomas and Phillip's party has the good luck to find Old Timer. He's accidentally been injured badly enough he can't walk and crawling through the woods is not easy going. The manner of this accident wasn't a super obvious bad idea, but that could maybe have been avoided with a bit more thought, perhaps, with luck. Most of the party just nods and goes "Yeah, sounds about right, could have happened to anyone."

…Phillip flips straight out and starts screaming at Old Timer for being an idiot who could have got himself killed. And then storms off a ways into the woods, back toward the village, leaving everyone else wondering a) the best way to get the injured man back home and b) what the heck just happened with the prissy little Duke. Thomas gets deputized to go find out what Phillip's problem is. There is protesting involved, but he finally gives in because he'd like to be home by dinner, thank you very much.

Phillip has, by this point, stopped to have a smoke, which both gives Thomas an opportunity to catch up and, thankfully, a scent to find him by. Thomas asks him why on earth he's so upset that Old Timer is hurt since the two of them hate each other and everyone figured Phillip would LOVE it if the other man died…

And that's when he finds out that everyone's had that relationship all backwards. Phillip doesn't hate the Old Timer, oh no! He loves being called 'Phil'. He absolutely adores the fact that when he asks "Why don't we do this?", rather than just go "Yeah, okay" and waste time and resources doing something HE KNOWS WON'T WORK, the Old Timer says 'no' and, over the course of the argument, actually EXPLAINS why not, which means Phillip ACTUALLY LEARNS THINGS. The more he argues, the better he becomes at building things and he doesn't have to try and decipher what some book is telling him or guess what the book might be leaving out and he LOVES IT and if the Old Timer had died, how would he learn things then? When Thomas points out that he'd learn just as much - maybe more - if he just asked the Old Timer to teach him things rather than argue, Phillip low key panics because what if he figures out Phillip WANTS to learn and stops talking to him or refuses because he doesn't like him at all?

By this point Thomas is a) trying to remember if he was ever THIS paranoid, and praying he wasn't and b) wondering what on earth to do with a Duke who is clearly in love with a crusty old working class codger, but hasn't figured it out yet.

He decides to tell Rouse and make it HIS mess to deal with.

Phillip and the Old Timer eventually get married and get a cottage of their own and Phillip about dies happy at the idea of a home that he actually owns instead of something that he's the custodian of for the next generation who will be the custodians for the generation after that and so on.

[indiestsnake]

okay. for real this time. Major In Stars and Time spoilers for act 3 and beyond. To my wonderful friends playing this masterpiece, to no further. To potential readers, buckle up. This gets long ._.

I thought this game was done with causing me symptoms of emotional exhaustion and stress overload. I was wrong.

Acts 5 and 6 of this game caused the most emotion a video game has ever inflicted on me. Like- the tightness in my chest was an emotion I can only describe as grief. Genuine grief. I felt like I needed to sob for most of act six, for multiple reasons.

Let’s start at the fuckin transition I guess!!!!!!!!!! Siffrin finally thinks they figured it out, and they haven’t. The genuine fear I felt in the cutscene with Euphrasie, the realization that… that this was it, Siffrin was simply stuck. I believed it. I could not find a way to break my suspension of disbelief. I fully, genuinely could not believe that this game had a happy ending. I did not know this game only had one ending, but even if I did, it… I don’t think it would’ve done anything.

The following monologue was the usual terrifying, the game using its informal dialogue to reap horrific subversive effects as usual. Of course it saved some tricks for this moment, like taking away control of when the dialogue progressed. Watching Siffrin snap so thoroughly, lose all his hope and cling to the thought of defeating the king alone because he doesn’t know what else to do, it… it really breaks you.

So. Now that the game has maximized my potential sympathy for Siffrin. And torn my empathetic heart to shreds. It immediately turns on a heel and makes me hate them within three conversations. The things they say to Mira, Odile, Bonnie, Isa, made me so thoroughly angry. I would not blame Odile for actually harming him. I would not blame Mira if she never spoke to him again. I would not blame Bonnie for never wanting to even think about him again. And I would not blame Isa if he no longer loved Siffrin.

I am a person who believes in redemption. In second chances. The readers of my fics know this well. But sadly, actions have to have consequences. And the actions Siffrin takes should have lost him his friends, his family, forever. Even in his circumstances. They had no reason to keep caring.

So then, reeling from the genuine sense of loss and grief and hate and despair, Siffrin nicks the orbs and goes in alone. Through about, what, 20-30 minutes of gameplay, this tension persists. The game didn’t even need to barrage me with monologues, just show those conversations of the family Siffrin left, tear apart the house and the menus and the game till it was barely recognizable. Siffrin. The Lost One, says his profile. Memory of emptiness. Rock, paper, scissors. It’s so dry. So dull. So full of despair and pain and fear and a question of what he could ever do to deserve this hell. He can’t go back. He cannot find the hope or will or anything to go through with it, to follow the script. So even if this does break the loop. What then? He is left with a world where the people he loves most despise him.

Then finally, he reaches the king.

The fight is almost dull. Simplistic. Full of pain. Siffrin does not need a shield to withstand the vision of the future. Because the world they live in cannot get any worse. Nothing scares him more than the hell he now exists in.

Then, he begins to freeze. The king slows him down. And he falls asleep.

The following sequence was just… indescribable. The sadness variant of him, Mal du Pays. French for “homesickness”. Just a simple drawing of Siffrin. The music. The dialogue. The words that come from its mouth. From the party’s mouths. Siffrin tries to say it’s fake. Isabeau’s segment convinces him it’s not.

I didn’t even realize what was happening till it flashed forward and gripped the screen by the face.

He was turning into a sadness.

The frame of his sadness gripping the screen, like many of ISAT’s frames, is something I can’t manage to forget. The cloak and the face and the way it fills the screen so suddenly and finally speaks as itself, not as Siffrin’s party. And he can’t fight it. They just can’t. The universe leads, but he is tired. And now, he can rest. If he just lets go.

In that moment, I was staring at a black screen, begging, pleading for the credits not to roll.

And then he wakes up.

Because his friends are back.

Despite what he said and did, they knew he didn’t mean it. And if he did, they didn’t care. It was clear something was wrong, and they were determined to fix it. Because they were his friends.

I don’t think I’ve ever had a game manage to convey self-hatred so convincingly that I, the player, began to hate my character in a way their friends could not. In fact, I was not aware that was a thing that could happen.

I don’t even know how to express the feelings this give me coherently. It feels like this game snatched away one of my closest moral beliefs only to clothesline me with said belief so I learned it even harder. What Siffrin did was not unforgivable. But it truly convinced me that it was.

So of that when all hope seemed truly, truly lost. It pulled the basic trope of “your friends come help when you thought you were alone”. And it nearly knocked me out of my chair.

First off, get fucked king. Second off, happy for you king.

And then the walk to Euphrasie. I was mixed with giddy glee and unending dread for this whole thing. Isa helps Sif walk while Bonnie holds their hand. Color exists again but only red and oh god the world is ending. Euphrasie is still broken oh god please no don’t send me back don’t take this from me please no no no no WAM REVERSE BOSS FIGHT

Cue that scene. I wasn’t exactly happy that my only option aside from hurting my friends was hurting myself. But it did not take long for me to start groaning in annoyance when Mira healed me.

And then. Against all odds. Siffrin breaks. As does the text formatting as the party literally claws at the text box edges to yell at him.

They fall. Hands clasped together. And he tells them his wish. That he just wants to stay with them.

Of course. That’s all he ever wanted.

And oh god, oh thank every deity, that’s all they want too.

And he finally gets a god-damn motherfucking son of a bitch eye-losing tear-jerking MOTHER FUCKING HUG

and damn it was a good one. poor guy was all squimshed. lost his hat too

the rest of the dialogue is just. amazing. I was gigging and smiling and shaking and vibrating with joy before I even finished Mirabelle’s segment. Walking to Bonnie was when I realized it felt like I wanted to cry. During Bonnie’s dialogue was when I almost did cry. Then Odile. Who I obviously asked for the long version of her theory and she was very helpful for explaining all the stuff. and then.

Isabeau.

oh. my. fucking. god.

the joy I felt when he said it. The leap I leapt, ungracefully dancing over to my bed and mouthing screams of joy. I genuinely just collapsed and writhed around like a fish out of water in happiness. You know how some folk flap their hands to stim? Yeah, imagine that but my whole body. I was so unbelievably happy. I don’t know how a game did this much to me.

The rest of the dialogue was wonderful too. Sif apologized for everything, even the optional events, even admitted the bad touch event. And of course. Isa freaked the fuck out. Because oh my god Sif kissed him. And then when Sif clarifies that it was not a good kiss. He just thinks for a moment like. “…………. Maybe u just need more practice!!! ^^” and it was at that point Siffrin and Isabeau plushies manifested in my hands and I mashed their faces together like barbie dolls

Mira doesn’t want self-spoilers and thats hilarious. Bonnie has no fucken clue what’s going on but she knows Sif was hungry sick and at school so all is well. Odile admits she linguine’s him and yes I fucking love that joke. SIF’S HOME COUNTRY MIFHT APPEAR IN THE DISTANCE????? AND ISA AND SIF ARE GOING ON A FUCKING DATE

and it was at this point I saved my progress, crossed my heart, and prayed Euphrasie would not send me back.

And she didn’t.

oh, god, this game…

welp. this post is two hours in the making. dunno if any of this is coherent but I think if you’ve played isat you get it. thank you to everyone who’s been blowing up my liveposts recently!!! it’s been cool to see the fandom giggle evilly at my suffering :3

tho my contributions to the Isat fandom do not end here. the fic is imminent. I could not stop it if I wanted too. If you couldn’t tell by the essay you just read.

thank you for reading this far if you somehow did!!!! hope you enjoyed my nonsensical babbling. I’m gonna go pass out. have a good day!!!!!!! .3

[arcaneconfessions]

the timebomb hate really is just mindblowing to me bcs like. did we even watch the same show ?? and like, okay, a lot of timebomb shippers are more into it because we know about the missing content etc (and i do believe if said content was included In The Show thered be far less haters) but like ?? saying we ruined the fandom ?? that we're "so toxic" ?? be so for real right now. god forbid we like a ship that gets lol dickriders mad (because oh !! oh !! well !! lightcannon was canon so timebomb bad !!!) like. we are all just trying to enjoy ourselves. the only truly toxic people ive seen in this fandom are the ones that shit all over timebomb for literally no reason..

.

[catboymettaton]

heaven is a place on earth 💖🍓

Misa and Matsuda friendship, 3.5k words, rated T. read on ao3 Valentine's Day 2011: Misa jumps from a building, hoping to reunite with Light. And then wakes up, still alive.

Tokyo looks so small from up here. Misa reaches out a gloved hand, traces the line of the street below. Cars honking, people scurrying, everyone in such a rush to go somewhere, to do something.

Misa is in no such hurry. 

A man below is carrying flowers, so many they spill out of his arms. Another man has just emerged from a chocolate shop, bursting bag in tow. Women giggle as they pass by.

It is Misa’s second Valentine’s Day alone. It will also be her last. 

She still can’t understand what the men kept saying. Light, her Light, couldn’t possibly be a killer. He loved her. He loved her so much. He would never lie to her, he would never put her in danger, he would never do anything to harm her. Light loved her. 

And she still loves his ghost. 

Perhaps, by the end of the day, she won’t be alone any longer. 

She hikes her skirt up and clambers over the barrier. Her dress is awkward and makes it hard to move but that doesn’t matter because it makes her pretty. Misa is pretty. Light always told her that. It was okay when he was too busy to touch her, because he made sure she knew she was still pretty. 

She’s wearing her contacts today. It’s the first time in a while, since she quit acting to be with him. He never even had the chance to give her a ring. 

She touches her cross necklace. She’s never believed in that god, especially not since learning Shinigami were real. But she hopes all the same that heaven is just how it’s described in the books. 

Misa is hungry, she realizes. She doesn’t know when she last ate. But it doesn’t matter, because heaven or not, soon her body will no longer need to be fed.

She’s craving apples.

She’s drawing this out too long. If it were Light up here, he’d have a grand speech to make for the world. He’d go out beautifully and gracefully and powerfully. 

She declined to see the photographs. Couldn’t stand the thought of seeing her beloved all torn and bloody. Better to imagine him dignified and elegant, all poised on a crucifix.

The sun is beginning to dip below the horizon. It’s time.

Misa realizes, now, that she never planned her last words. Not that it matters, since no one will be close enough to hear. But with another moment’s thought, it becomes obvious.

She shuts her eyes. “I love you, Light.”

And she jumps.

…

Everything hurts and everything is bright and everything is so, so loud. This can’t be heaven at all. 

Under the aches, she feels her heart beating away. Her chest rises and falls, with spikes of pain on every inhale. There’s no doubt about it: somehow, she’s alive. 

I’m sorry, Light.

Her vision is blurred with pain, but she can make out machines beeping next to her. There’s tubes in her arm, and a tube down her throat, and maybe if she can knock one machine out of place then everything will go quiet and dark again, the way it’s supposed to be.

She reaches forward and the pain jolts all the way up her arm. She lets out a scream.

A nurse is there. “Oh, Miss Amane, you’re finally awake! I’m so glad to see you’ve pulled through. Here, let me help you with that pain.”

She reaches for a button. Misa wants to cry out, to beg her to end this, but she finds herself unable to speak.

The nurse pauses. “We were trying to find your next of kin, but we couldn’t locate any living relatives in the country. Is there a friend you’d like us to call?”

A name slips from her lips. It’s not a name she expected, or one she would have thought of if it weren’t for the drugs, surely.

“Touta Matsuda.”

The painkillers carry her away once more.

…

The next time she comes to, he’s hovering just inches from her face. She yelps in shock and then again in pain.

“I’m sorry, Misa-Misa! I didn’t mean to scare you! I just wanted to make sure you were still breathing, is all!”

Misa shuts her eyes. “Matsu… you came.”

“Of course I came! I was so worried when I saw the caller ID… I’m so glad you’re okay.”

“Everything hurts,” she slurs.

“The nurses said it was a pretty nasty fall. You’re lucky you made it.”

“Lucky, huh…”

He places his hand over hers, gently, trying his best not to hurt her. 

Light and Ryuzaki always called him an idiot. Called him the stupid one. But somehow, he seemed to know what to do when no one else did. 

And he’s made it longer than both of them, hasn’t he?

“Misa.” His tone is serious this time. “Misa, when you get out of here, will you come home with me?”

Her eyes shoot open. “Um, you’re way too old for me and I-”

“No, no, that’s not what I meant at all!” He looks ashamed. “I just - I don’t want you to be alone, okay? They told me you don’t have any family, and with Li - I just think you must be pretty lonely now and I don’t want you to be lonely, okay?”

To not be lonely…

Misa has nearly forgotten what it was like to not be lonely. 

Even when she and Light were living together, he was so busy, and she saw so little of him, and she knows he loves her but it was still hard to not miss him and she misses him so much and she was so lonely and he was so tired after work and he barely touched her at all and he loved her. He loves her! She knows he loves her!

But. 

But she was still so lonely. Is so lonely. 

She had friends before all this, but they’ve moved on, grown up, gotten married, settled down, had kids, stopped caring about ghost stories, stopped getting dressed up all fancy just to go get groceries, stopped caring about pop stars like Misa-Misa. 

It would be nice to have a friend again.

“Okay,” she murmurs.

The nurse comes back. She sleeps again.

…

Her hospital stay is a blur. She can’t tell how long she’s been there, when one day ends and another begins. She’s fed through a tube and she pees into a bedpan, which is so yucky but she knows she can’t stand.

And Matsuda is there by her side day in and day out.

“You don’t have to stay,” she mumbles. “Go back to the police. They’ll call you when I’m all better.”

He shakes his head. “No, Misa. I - I want to know you’re okay. I need to know you’re okay.”

So he stays. 

After some time, she can sit up. They take the feeding tube out while she’s asleep and Matsuda feeds her congee, one spoonful at a time. It’s all plain and kinda gross but the doctors say she needs to be gentle with her stomach. 

Matsuda watches the nurses transfer her to a wheelchair so she can pee in a real toilet. It feels good. 

In the evenings, he brushes her hair. It’s gotten horribly knotted from all the lying around, but he does his best to tease out the knots. 

“Maybe I should just cut this all off,” Misa muses. “Would make it a lot easier for you.”

“But it’s so pretty.” He eases a comb through the back of her head.

“I’m not gonna be pretty with all these bruises anyway.” Misa thinks it over, and decides. “I want you to cut it off.”

The nurses provide scissors, and Misa’s bleach-blond crown falls to her feet. She wonders how far her roots have grown out now. She hasn’t been brunette since her parents were alive. 

She gets stronger. She’s allowed to eat eggs again, and then even some sweets.

She thinks about Ryuzaki and his cake. She can tell Matsuda does too. Neither of them brings it up.

Finally, Misa is discharged. She can walk a little, but needs crutches. Matsuda takes her home to his apartment, where he’s set up his spare room for her. The bed is lush with comfy pillows, there’s a table next to it just how she likes it. She realizes he must have remembered from Task Force Headquarters. 

Six years ago feels like a different lifetime.

…

She’s been living at his place for a week when he brings it up over breakfast.

“Misa,” he begins. “I know this is really hard to talk about. But I need to know.”

She takes a bite of her rice and nods. She already knows what’s coming.

“It was Valentine’s Day. You climbed over the railing. You were trying to die, weren’t you?”

“Yes.” She’s not upset. She feels numb to it, actually. “It was Valentine’s Day. I wanted to spend it with my Light.”

Matsuda shuts his eyes and takes a deep breath.

“It’s just not fair,” she continues. She knows her voice is whiny and it’s not cute when a grown woman is whiny when she isn’t an idol anymore but she can’t help it. She misses him and everything hurts. “It’s not fair that he’s gone, and I’m still here, and I just wanted to see him again. I was supposed to see him again.”

“Misa. I know how you felt about Light. I know you want to believe he was good, but -”

“But he loves me! Loved me. He loved me so much. And I loved him too and I loved him so much, more than anyone else in the world so you’re wrong you can’t possibly know how I feel.”

His voice is shaking. “Misa, I loved him too.”

There are many ways to love. You can love your friends, you can love your family, you can love the color pink and pretty dresses.

But the way he said it can only mean one type of love.

She squints at him, trying to detect if this is some weird joke. “But you - but -”

“I fell in love with Light Yagami years ago. Of course I didn’t tell anyone. I don’t even think he knew. But… I trusted him. I thought he was honest, I thought he was righteous. He wasn’t scared to call Kira evil.” He takes a breath, trying to steady himself. He’s looking down at his bowl, not meeting her eyes.  

“I - I had my doubts, you know? Not about him. About Kira, I - he stopped wars. He stopped crime. And that was good, I couldn’t convince myself that it wasn’t. And he didn’t get mad at me for that, and I thought it was because he was being gentle with me. But he wasn’t.”

He looks up at her, and she can tell it hurts. “Misa, Light was a very cruel man. Even if we both loved him.”

“But he loves me! He loves me! He could never do all the things they said he did.” She’s had this conversation before, with her reflection. She’s had it many times, and it always goes the same. “I know my Light, he would never do anything to hurt other people, and he definitely wouldn’t do all that killing!”

“He confessed it all to us before he died. He thought he’d won.” He’s starting to cry now. It’s his fault for bringing it up, so she doesn’t feel bad. “His plan was to kill us all. We were the last thing in his way, that’s all he ever thought of us.” 

His voice is breaking, his words are barely coming out clearly. “I thought - I don’t know what I thought, but - I thought he cared about me, I - of course he didn’t feel the same but I thought we were friends. He was my best friend, Misa. He was my best friend.

“He was my best friend and I - I was just - I was just another pawn, I -  He - he wanted me to be his little attack dog, he wanted me to - to shoot -” He loses his composure completely here and Misa averts her eyes.

“No.” She stumbles to her feet, clutches her crutches. “No, you can’t - he couldn’t have. He wasn’t -”

She trips and he catches her. “Misa. I’m sorry.”

…

Misa looks in the mirror. Her deep brown hair has grown just enough that she can run her fingers through it.

It occurs to her that soon it’ll look like Light’s.

Her chest aches whenever she thinks of him, and she’s sure it isn’t because of her fractured ribs. 

Nothing Matsuda says makes sense, except it makes perfect sense, horrifying sense, at the same time, and she doesn’t want to believe it, she can’t believe it, except - 

There are things she can’t ignore. Pieces that don’t quite fit together.

He says Light took her memories away to keep him safe. Her memories of being Kira. He says she helped him as Kira, that she killed people.

She wants to deny it. She wants to say no, Misa-Misa is a good girl, Misa-Misa wouldn’t kill. 

But she remembers. She remembers how good it felt to see her parents’ murderer’s name and body on the news. She remembers her passion growing as Kira’s kills ramped up further and further.

Of course, she was young and dumb and she has grown up since then. Light dedicated his life to catching Kira, and nothing was more important than making Light happy, so that meant catching Kira was a good thing. She realized it was wrong to idolize a murderer, that Kira was evil, that Kira had to be stopped. She realized that killing was bad and murder wasn’t justice at all.

But Light didn’t believe any of that.

She’d restructured her mind around a total lie. Light didn’t go to America to catch Kira, he went to protect himself. 

Her memories of their overseas stay are fractured. She remembers sleeping alone in a big hotel bed. She remembers coming home from her Hollywood shoot to an empty room, not even a note. And there are stretches of time she can’t remember, which is normal because it’s been three years, except she cherished every minute she had with Light, so why can’t she remember half of their conversations? 

He had gotten colder and colder as time went on. In the beginning, they made love nearly every night, but they hadn’t slept together in three months by the end. 

He must have been too busy with Kiyomi.

He told her Kiyomi was just another part of the investigation. That the feelings weren’t real at all. 

But if he was on Kira’s side after all, then - he had lied about that. It wasn’t part of the investigation. And did he lie about the feelings? 

Did he lie about loving her?

She tries to focus on the beginning, when everything was good. Wasn’t everything good? She remembers finally leaving confinement, finally being able to rest in his arms, back where she belonged.

He had said something then, something that bothered her. What was it?

He said… he said that she wouldn’t leave him alone. But that didn’t make any sense. Why wouldn’t he want to spend time with his girlfriend? Why would he want her to leave him alone? 

She tried not to think about it. She tried to focus on after they got out, when they moved into their apartment and finally got to have a normal romance. Finally got rid of that creep Ryuzaki.

But if he really lied about wanting to catch Kira, if he really lied about all of that - 

But he told her he loved her so much. He told her he loved her all the time.

If he didn’t love her, then what was she doing these past six years? 

If he didn’t love her, then why did she jump?

…

“When did you fall in love with Light?”

She can walk with a cane now, and Matsuda takes her out to the park on weekends. He’s gone back to work, now that he trusts her to make it through eight hours alone. He doesn’t talk about it and she doesn’t ask.

He looks away from her, breathes a heavy sigh. They try not to talk about Light, but his ghost hangs heavy in the air.

“I met him as a teenager. He was brilliant for his age, but of course I saw him as a kid. During the investigation, once he took control -” His voice breaks a bit. “It - it felt so wrong, he was like a little brother, but… I saw his confidence, his competence, his brilliance. He was so damn charismatic.”

Misa knows. Misa understands completely.

“And then when we were alone in LA… he trusted me… and I trusted him too. He seemed so committed.” He swallows. “And - he was so handsome in that damn turtleneck.”

Misa nods. She also liked the turtleneck.

He sighs. “But it was all an act. All of it. He called his father a loser and a fool in the end. His father, his hero.” 

Light loved his father. Light loved his father so much. Light was devastated when he died.

“He called you an idiot.”

He’d said it to her face before too, but it didn’t matter. It didn’t matter because he loved her.

Didn’t he love her?

He said he loved her. He told her she was cute. He told her she was a great girlfriend. He’d even asked her to quit acting to marry him. 

He was such a sweet talker. 

But had he ever really looked at her? Had he ever touched her without her reaching out first? Had he ever asked her about how her shoots were going, or taken her somewhere nice without her asking? 

He hadn’t even remembered her 25th birthday. 25 on December 25th, a big number, and he’d been too busy hunting down Kira.

Not hunting down Kira. Hunting down the people trying to stop Kira. 

Hunting down the people trying to stop him.

Would he have turned on Misa, too, if he’d lived?

She reaches for Matsuda with her free hand. His arm fits nicely in her palm. They walk together in silence a little longer. 

…

Misa’s bangs get in her face. She cuts half of them off so she looks like Matsuda. Matsuda puts his hair up in tiny pigtails. 

Misa swims in Matsuda’s suit jacket. Matsuda’s shoulders strain against Misa’s shirt.

They look at each other like clowns in a funhouse mirror. They touch their palms together.

In each other, they see that cursed love for Light Yagami.

They change back. Misa shaves that side of her head.

Somehow, life goes on.

…

On Valentine’s Day in 2012, Misa bakes a cake.

Matsuda offered to take the day off, in case it was too hard, but Misa insisted she was fine, and she is. And she wanted to surprise him.

Misa is an awful cook. She always has been, and she’s accepted that she always will be. But baking seems straightforward. If she reads carefully, measures slowly, everything will be okay.

It’s messy. She spills flour all over the counter. She has to start over when she puts in too much salt. She hopes Matsuda didn’t need all that sugar.

She’s never going to act again. She can walk mostly fine, but she can’t run or jump or push herself too hard. She’ll never model again, with the scars that haven’t quite healed. 

She’s gotten into writing ghost stories. She posts them anonymously. Her blog isn’t popular, but that’s okay. It gives her something to do. 

Matsuda is nice to her. He seems to care about her in a way that Light never did. They aren’t in love, not romantically, but they fit together well. He reads her blog and he likes her stories. He thanks her when she cleans the house. And he remembered her birthday, and took her to a Christmas market so she could pick out her own gift. 

She stirs the batter. She realizes she forgot to preheat the oven and rushes to set it. Matsuda says preheating is very important. 

She thinks about how small the city looked. She thinks about her last fleeting thoughts of heaven. She touches her cross necklace; that’s one thing that hasn’t changed. The dress was wrecked, but that’s okay. She’s okay.

Maybe she was looking for heaven in the wrong place. Maybe heaven doesn’t come after death. Maybe heaven is now, in this little kitchen, where she’s still breathing and her heart is still beating. 

When Matsuda comes home, she’s just finished icing the cake. It’s bright pink for the holiday (and because it’s Misa’s favorite). She cuts them each a slice even though they haven’t had dinner yet. 

She got it just right. It’s the best strawberry cake she’s ever had.

[i-shift-your-pants]

tips for shifters or manifestors who have loved ones who are "villainous"

Note: these are simply my own beliefs and just me sharing experience with having two crazy killers between my loved ones in my DR i channel with, if you believe otherwise you don't have to agree

Okay so y'all know people in your DRs are REAL people with their own will and their own decisions? I'm gonna share some of my experience with...

🔷how to know if your villainous loved ones actually decided to change, improve themselves & grow or not🔷

I know most of your use the method to script "they are good people, and aren't mean anymore", "their personality isn't evil" & etc, this is a good one you can use!

but i know there are people (like me) who don't want to change the personality of their loved ones, here are some advice

🟦 You can use these tips whether you want to check them through channeling or when you shift and want to check their behavior in person 🟦🟦🟦🟦

•🔷 A BIG way to check is... do you still feel tense around them??? Do you have any signs of anxiety? If so... Trust your gut, and be very very careful (btw: anxiety can sometimes show itself as excitement too, be careful with that one as well)

•🔷 Check if their behavior changes towards EVERYONE ELSE too, if they want to change their coping mechanisms that are harmful towards people, that includes everyone

If you're the only soft spot or the only person they're nice to... Most likely it's so they make you trust them and so they don't lose your company.... This usually won't end well in long run because faking won't last forever

•🔷 favorite method of mine! FREQUENTLY CHECK HOW YOUR FRIENDS OR ANY OTHER LOVED ONES FEEL ABOUT THEM

•🔷 Another favorite one, check what they say when they're super sleepy, drunk, breaking down, lash out or not in the "right" state of mind, it's usually hard to hide your true intentions during those moments

•🔷 How do animals and children feel around their presence??

•🔷 Are they putting actual effort to improve themselves?? Or you have to keep drying your mouth to convince them into putting effort? Do they stop the effort behind your back?, guys! Remember, you can't change someone, it's THEIR OWN decision to change, if they want to do it, they will!

•🔷 (If your villainous loved one is a s/o) Check if you're infatuated, infatuation can be blinding, i would suggest frequently checking how your friends and family feel about this person while they're changing and improving their behavior, ask friends to call out any questionable behavior they see

•🔷 Last of all, don't ignore things that make you uncomfortable, Don't be like me🤣🤣🤣🤣

End of discussion _Blazer

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