#i want to get to the sisters of battle so badly..... i can take all three of them at once

[picory]

the mantis lords fight never ceases to be fun! it's not as challenging as it seemed at first once you get used to their moves, and yet that doesn't make it any less enjoyable. it almost feels like we're dancing, it's such a well paced and rhythmic (?) battle. and their theme is one of my favorites... so energetic and elegant AGHH i love this game

[lolxdswag123]

Sleepless in Cabin 3

Percy Jackson x reader

Warnings: Blood of Olympus spoilers, mentions of insomnia, flashbacks, a makeout session, I think that’s it.

Authors note: This is my first time writing so let me know how I did :)

Summary: reader is having flashbacks to the battle against Gaia and hasn’t been sleeping. Goes to best friend Percy’s cabin for comfort.

Tossing and turning. That’s all I could do for the past 3 hours. Lights out was at 10 pm. It was now 1 o clock in the morning and I have not slept a wink. Every time I closed my eyes I saw the same things. Leo bursting into flames. Octavian being launched into the massive ball of fire in the air.

Now I didn’t care all that much for Octavian, but Leo was my best friend. I knew about his plan all along. He told me he was going to find Calypso, and he would be back. It was just so hard to believe after what I saw last week. I haven’t been able to sleep for days now.

After the battle I had collapsed in exhaustion, and I think that was the last time I really got any rest since then.

Camp was still being cleaned up and there was evidence of the battle everywhere. Reyna, who had become like my sister, left to go back to Camp Jupiter with Hazel and Frank. My whole life felt like it had been turned upside down in the matter of 7 days.

I was restless. Chiron had me meet up with some of the Apollo campers daily for “mental health reasons”, but it wasn’t helping in the way that he had hoped. The only thing that helped was being around my best friends, Percy and Annabeth.

They had been my best friends since I was 13. I first went on a quest with them to recover the Golden Fleece from a huge cyclops. Times have changed since then. The war against Kronos almost felt like child’s play compared to everything we’ve dealt with since then.

Percy’s disappearance alone was enough to send me into a crazed state for weeks. That was the first time I dealt with insomnia. He and I always had a special connection. One that nobody else understood. Percy could calm me down in a way that nobody else ever was capable of. If Annabeth wasn’t by my side in that time I think I really would’ve lost it.

Even when he and Annabeth fell into Tartarus I didn’t break down like this. I had Reyna and Leo to get me through it.

As I rolled over in my empty cabin for the millionth time, I had a flashback to that day that they fell into the pit of Tartarus.

If Percy hadn’t jumped in after her, I would’ve. He pushed me back before he jumped in. I stood there with my brother, Nico, looking down hopelessly and trying to figure out what to do.

The boy, who my brother and I both had adored, was begging us to meet him at the other side of Tartarus. He promised us that he would be there, that he would get out. I could feel my heart being ripped out as I looked at them, but Nico and I swore to it.

I so badly wanted to jump in after them, but I couldn’t do it. I knew that I had to help the others.

After that, I was in a crazed state. Completely and hopelessly hyperfixated on getting them out.

The thought alone made me nauseous, and I considered running to throw up in the bathroom.

It’s not like I would be bothering anyone. Every night after I fall asleep, or in this case, pretend to fall asleep, Nico sneaks off to go see his boyfriend, Will.

I’m not angry at him for it. I purposely pretend to sleep so that he doesn’t feel bad about going. I know he’s struggling as much as I am.

I take a deep breath, hoping that I can settle my mind. Spoiler alert: it doesn’t work. I lay there for another fifteen minutes, staring at my ceiling, before I decide to take action.

I stood up, put on my slippers, and quietly escaped my cabin- trying my best not to wake any other campers- or the harpies.

I knew exactly where I was going, though I wasn’t sure what would happen.

I hadn’t gone to his cabin this late at night since my nightmares after we’d escaped the Labyrinth. He used to really help me get through my feelings- that is, until Rachel came along.

The next summer, I found out that Rachel and Percy had been kissing, and after that I backed off. I know that now there isn’t anything between them, but Percy is my best friend, and I knew that I needed to keep it that way.

I quietly approached his door, knocking softly. I hoped that he was awake, but I knew the odds were slim. After no answer, I knocked again, slightly more desperate.

If he doesn’t answer this time, I’ll go. I thought.

After a minute, there was still no response so I turned around to head back to my cabin and brave the night ahead.

The door creaked slowly behind me, and I whipped around. Percy was standing there, looking like I had just woken him up from the best dream of his life.

“Hey.” I whispered, approaching hesitantly.

Without another word, he nods his head, gesturing for me to come into his cabin. Tyson wasn’t there. He had temporarily gone back to Camp Jupiter with Ella.

We both enter his silent cabin, and he shuts the door quietly behind us. The seasalt smell immediately hits me and all of my senses relax.

He sits on his bed and looks up at me, standing awkwardly. The idea seemed great, but now that I was standing in his room I wasn’t really sure what my plan was.

“What’s going on?” Percy asked, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes.

I looked down, suddenly feeling bad for waking him up. “I haven’t been sleeping.” I whispered.

“What?” He asks.

I repeat myself, “I haven’t been-“

“You haven’t been sleeping?” He asks, sounding slightly upset. He rests his elbows on his knees and puts his head in his hands.

I shake my head, feeling a blush over my face. I could feel my delirious brain and heavy eyes a little bit more now.

“And you’re just telling me now?” He asks, looking disappointed.

“I didn’t want to stress anyone out.” I say, smiling bashfully.

He rolls his eyes, patting the spot next to him.

“Think Chiron will give us a free pass if he finds us both in here?” He asks, obviously trying to make light of the situation.

I chuckle, nodding, but knowing that Chiron would do just about anything to help the campers right now. The thought reminded me even more about the battle.

Percy turns to lay back under his blankets, leaving an open space for me. This is exactly how we used to do it when I was having my nightmares.

I laid down in my spot, trying to get comfortable. I stared at the ceiling, immediately feeling more drowsy than I did in my room.

We both lay there in silence for a few minutes, before l hear the blankets rustle and turn my head to see Percy facing me.

I turn to face him too.

He purses his lips and furrows his eyebrows, scanning my face, before asking, “Why did you ever stop coming in here?”

I look at him nervously, realizing that we were finally going to have this conversation. “You and Rachel…” I trail off, not knowing what else to say.

His eyes instantly widen, “me and Rachel?” He asks.

I nod. “I didn’t want to get in the way of anything if you guys…” I pause, choosing my words, “if you guys were like, together or anything.”

He scans my face, as if trying to determine if I’m joking. He lets out a small laugh, “Rachel and I were never together. I thought you knew that.”

I shake my head, eyes focusing on anything but his face.

He chuckles again, and I tuck my head into his chest, attempting to end the conversation there, but he decided to continue, “You know,” he paused, wrapping an arm around me to play with my hair, “when Beckendorf came to get me for our mission? Remember that?”

I nod, unsure of where this was going.

“Well, he saw Rachel kiss me.”

I tensed, uncomfortable with this conversation.

“Then after we left her, to go to the ship,” he continued, “do you know what he said to me?”

I shook my head.

“He said, ‘I’m assuming you don’t want me to tell Y/N about that, right?’” Percy said, continuing to play with my hair.

“Really?” I asked, confused, “Why?”

He was silent for long enough for me to wonder if he even heard me before he spoke up again. “Because I didn’t want you to know.”

I pulled away, looking up at his face. I scrunched my eyebrows together out of confusion. “Why not? We tell each other everything.”

He raises his eyebrows, shaking his head, “Really?”

“What?” I asked.

He opened his mouth as if to say something, then closed it again. His eyes scanned my face again before wrapping an arm around me and pulling me back into his chest.

I finally start to doze off, feeling my body relax. Before I am completely asleep I can feel a soft kiss being placed on the top of my head. Before I can even feel the butterflies that come from it, I fall sound asleep.

I wake up before the sun is up, unsurprisingly. I’m happy to have gotten even a few hours of sleep.

I turn on my side to see Percy snoring softly with a line of drool coming down from his mouth. I giggle quietly before moving away a little bit.

I debate going back to my cabin, so that I don’t get caught in here. The last thing any of us needed right now was to deal with rumors about us sleeping in the same cabin together.

I sit up, my eyes scanning for my slippers in the dark room. Just as I find them I hear stirring behind me.

“What are you doing?” Percy asks groggily.

I turn to see him rubbing his eyes again and suddenly feel guilty for waking him up two times now.

“I was just going to sneak out before I get caught in here.” I whisper, reaching down to put my slippers on.

“Stay,” he whispered, eyes closed.

I smiled, looking at how peaceful he looked in that moment.

I shake my head, but rest a hand on his arm. “I shouldn’t.” I whisper.

He groans, turning closer to me and opens his eyes. He looks up at me, slowly reaching up as he brushes a strand of my hair out of my face.

“I’ll cover for you in the morning.” He whispers softly, looking at me hopefully.

I smile but shake my head, “If anyone finds out I stayed here…” I whisper, “you know how they all talk.”

He looks at me for a moment, and then another moment, eyes scanning my face, before responding, “You know everyone already thinks we’re together, right?”

My eyes widen in shock, completely taken aback and unsure if I heard him right. “Us? Like- you and me? Together?”

He nods, looking straight into my eyes, eyebrows furrowed.

“Why?” I ask, incredibly confused. I had never heard this before and I had never told anyone how I really felt. Not even Annabeth.

He stared incredulously at me for another moment, before whispering, “Are you kidding? I really can’t tell.”

I shook my head and shrugged.

“Well… we’re together all the time. You used to sleep here. When I went missing and got amnesia you were the only person I could remember. I almost lost it when you got hurt in the battle in manhattan…” he searched my face for my reaction, “I can keep going if you want.”

I shook my head, understanding. “I guess that kind of makes sense.”

He nodded, looking at me as if he was waiting for me to say something else.

I stared at him for a moment, before my delirium allowed me to ask a rather bold question.

“What do you think about that?” I whispered, looking into his eyes.

His gaze felt heavy. He stared straight into my eyes, coughing, before saying, “Uhhh… what do you mean?”

I shook my head, “Nevermind.” I whispered.

He grabbed my hand, looking directly into my eyes, before saying, “About what everyone says? Or about us being together?”

“Both.” I whisper, staring straight back at him.

He pauses for a moment, looking down at our hands, then back into my eyes. “I think they have a point. And I think that they’re right. That we are basically together. Unless you’re thinking something different?”

I nodded slowly, thinking about all of the years that I’ve brushed off other boys because I didn’t have eyes for them like I do for him. I thought about all the time that we spent apart, and how it felt like a piece of me was missing. I thought about the battle of manhattan, when I saw him fighting and I had never felt such pride in my heart before. I knew it all along, I just didn’t know how to show it.

“It’s not that easy though, seaweed brain. We’re not basically together until you ask me out.” I chuckle, looking back down at him and realizing how intently he’s looking at me.

I slowly kick off my shoes and lay back down next to him. He still is looking at me intently and hasn’t said a word.

“What’s wrong?” I whisper, after another moment of silence.

He shakes his head, looking deeply into my eyes, and I see his gaze flicker to my lips for a millisecond.

Suddenly I can feel my heartbeat pick up. I’m now aware of every centimeter of my body that is close to his. It’s like all of my senses are dialed to 11.

Before I can even think twice I lean forward just slightly and he immediately grabs my face and his lips are on mine.

The kiss is soft, slow, and everything I could’ve ever imagined.

I can feel his hesitation, almost like he’s afraid I’ll pull away if he makes the wrong move.

I reach my hand around the back of his head and run my hand through his hair, bringing him closer to me. The kiss slowly becomes more passionate, my heart rate accelerating.

I don’t think either of us can hold back anymore. I tilt my head slightly, it’s like something inside me snaps. The kiss is intense, full of years of love and yearning toward one another. His hand moves slowly under the hem of my sleep shirt, shakey fingers trailing up my back, and I gasp into his mouth, enjoying the new sensation.

We had been close before, but never like this.

I hear Percy groan quietly, the sound beautiful but desperate, and my body is suddenly on fire. His other hand reaches to the back of my next to pull me even closer, deepening the kiss so that our tongues are dancing with each other. I can feel him breathing heavily as his hands explore my skin, fingers digging in in a way I never knew I needed.

My hands run through his hair, one leaving to clutch his shoulder, pulling him even closer to me. Percy’s mouth moves to my jaw, trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses down my neck, and I bite my lip to keep from making a sound, but it’s impossible. I let out a soft gasp, pressing even further into him.

“Gods,” Percy groans against my neck, continuing to bury his face into my neck and collarbone, definitely leaving marks that he knows he shouldn’t be. Especially not if I’m walking out of his cabin in the morning. His lips find mine again, but this time it feels more frantic, like we’re both on the verge of losing control. His hands are fully under my shirt now, his touch insistent, and I can’t help the small groan that escapes me.

I can’t stand it anymore as I tug at his shirt, pulling it up, desperate to feel more. He helps me, urgently pulling it over his head before desperately crashing his mouth back onto mine. His skin feels incredibly warm, his muscles tensing beneath my touch as I slowly run my nails down his chest. He groans into the kiss, kicking my legs with his own so that he can move to hover over me.

I can feel my back press into the mattress as Percy hovers over me, the weight of it making me shiver. His hands roam lower, gripping my hips roughly, and his mouth never stops—kissing, biting, trailing heat down my neck and back up again to capture my lips. Every move, every touch, is more desperate, more intense, and I can feel the years of pent-up tension between us boiling over.

We continue like this for longer than we should, desperately grabbing onto each others skin, mouths all over eachothers faces and necks, before we finally allow the kiss to slow down. The kiss fades to a soft, gentle one, and we slowly pull away.

I stare into his eyes, feeling a blush cover my face when I realize that this is real, and that just happened. He has the same look on his face as me, breathing heavy. His hair is all out of place and part of me wants to continue where we left off and mess up his hair a little more.

I bite my lip, holding back the smile that is trying to take over my face. He grins at me, his eyes sparkling.

“We’re definitely doing that again.” He smirks at me playfully.

“What took you so long?” I ask, nudging his arm and letting him lay back down beside me.

He shrugged, “Was never the right time. Can’t say I haven’t thought about it though. Maybe a little too much…” he trailed off.

I rolled my eyes, smacking his arm playfully before realizing how exhausted I had become.

“Can we go back to sleep?” I whisper, tucking my head into his chest again.

He nods, pressing a kiss on my head, and this time I feel the whole swarm of butterflies invade my stomach. I smile, and doze off.

[the-teufort-nine]

My TF2 Fic Rec List [ Fanfics I've Read That You Should Too]

*cracks knuckles* right, let's get started! X Reader fics are not included bc I already did a list of them for an ask. Mind the tags and ratings, as always. I'll add to this as I collect more, but its decently long as is

Symbol Key:

** = Incomplete

~~ = Personal favourite

++ = Under 10k

SpeedingBullet:

~~Running Blind by TheTriggeredHappy

(( Scout's eyes are badly damaged in battle and for some reason, Medic's gun can't fix him. Until they figure out how to heal Scout, he needs someone to look after him and keep him safe.

Sniper is given the job.

[3rd person limited, Scout's POV, some character development done on a whim] ))

The SpeedingBullet fanfic. If you like Scout X Sniper, and you haven't read this one yet, I don't know what to tell you. You are severely missing out on not only a great romance story, but also fantastic team dynamics. Also has an available Podfic!

++From a Hospital Bed by SlightlyLessThanAnon

(( Jeremy wakes up in the hospital, his brain struggling the find coherent thoughts as the world churns around him, in and out of consciousness.

He finds the team may care about him a little more than he thought they did. ))

Short but sweet. More whole team fluff than strictly SpeedingBullet. Very cute.

~~Golden Brown, as well as its sister fic, Take Me Out by Ali_Ker (Alina_Kerrin)

(( After seeing his co-worker in a new light, Scout is faced with unknown feelings and a new, distracting perspective on things. ))

This lovely author can be found here under the handle @alikerao3

Grouped these two together because they are they same story, but told from the perspectives of Scout and Sniper respectively. Definitely a bit of a heavier read, especially for anyone who has dealt with Catholic guilt or internalized homophobia, but my God is it worth it. Don't just read one thinking it isn't worth it to read the other fic. Read both. Also, check out the song that inspired the title.

~~Going Through The Motions by AussieBookworm

(( Working under RED can be repetitive at times - but nothing like this. After a curse is fired his way, Scout is forced to live through the same day over and over and over again. It should be easy for someone as perfect as Scout to break the curse, right? As long as he doesn't have to confront the things he's been feeling towards Sniper it should be a piece of cake! ))

Possibly my absolute favourite TF2 fic right now. Scout gets character development out the ass, Demo has a prominent, important role, and there's a plot twist so good it had me tweaking out. TW for Suicide as a method used to get out of a time loop. Absolutely incredible, and it needs more love.

Gills and Gunpowder by popkeeki

(( Monsters are becoming increasingly rare. Between getting pushed to the periphery of society or being targeted by traffickers, life is hard when you are not (entirely) human. Like many others, Scout tries to keep his true form a secret. It has never really been a problem. That is, until a nosy teammate catches him mid-swim. ))

SpeedingBullet Mermaid AU!! Good luck finding a fic with this premise that also reaches this level of quality.

**~~Pet by Anonymous

(( Sniper's terrified of losing the one person he has in his life. It turns out there's a convenient solution to that: just make sure he has no way out, and the rest will follow.

Scout wakes up in a van he knows all too well, loopy and hungover, and Sniper's waiting for him.

*

Or: Learning to live with claustrophobia in small spaces Or: Making the best of assisted living Or: You can’t outrun a fucking bullet ))

Are you like me? Do you enjoy Scout whump and Yandere!/Possessive Sniper? SpyDad? Do you want more of it in your life? If the answer is yes, than Pet is for you! No NSFW, just pure, delicious kidnapping and one-sided love.

General Fanfic Recommendations:

++Something's Up With Respawn by Camelot_taurus, Old Works (HarveyDangerfield)

(( Respawn starts to glitch, and the Administrator sets Engineer to work fixing it.

It doesn't take long for him to find out exactly what's going ))

Super funny, weird little oneshot. Basically, Respawn starts glitching and producing fucked up, Paperjam Dipper-esque clones of the Mercs.

++Mask Off by MatryoshkaDoll413

(( Scout is sick. Really sick. 'If we can't get this fever under control it's the hospital or the morgue' sick, and Respawn can't help him this time. They'd already tried that. He's gotten so delirious he's fighting Medic every second he's awake, not really lucid enough to remember so much as his own name, much less that of any of the team. Medic is ready to put him under full sedation and try and work things out from there, but Spy has an idea. ))

Wholesome SpyDad fic. Spy actually acts like a dad for once, for his sick little bunny.

~~++Scout, Respond by MatryoshkaDoll413

(( Scout wakes up in a dark, unknown place, with rocks bearing down on him and a spotty recollection as to how he ended up there in the first place. The only thing that keeps him sane is the voice of his team in his ear, telling him to talk, to breath, and, more than anything, to stay awake. ))

Scout gets trapped beneath a collapsed building, and receives comfort from his team over his headset while they race to dig him out. Super cute, definitely a must read, and I've done so more than once.

pick it all up (and start again) by bugbee

(( The clues had always been there, he had just never wanted to see them. Maybe neither of them had, instead content to deny the truth before their eyes for the rest of their days because it was better than confronting the alternative. Except Scout had died, and Spy wasn’t able to keep on pretending for his last moments. A part of Jeremy was glad for it, despite the simmering rage and betrayal and hurt. So when he tried to look God in the eye and tell Him that Tom Jones was his father… He couldn’t. Not really.

(Scout discusses his parentage with God, and stays dead for a little while longer. Well. A lot longer. On the plus side, he gets to attend his own funeral reception.) ))

An alternate take on Scout's death from the comics. Very Scout centric, obviously, and ends happily.

~~A Little Bird Told Me… by the_soup_specter

(( Medic learns a secret— something personal, powerful, big enough to cause a rift in the team of mercenaries that could tear two of them apart. And for once in his life… he’s not sure how to proceed.

With no better ideas, Medic decides to ask his fellow mercenaries for advice. But as dueling viewpoints begin to pile up, will he be able to make a decision before the team is changed forever? ))

Medic learns Spy is Scout's dad, and spills the beans. Everything turns out ok, but man the aftermath initially ain't pretty.

~~seven times he has to explain (and one time he doesn’t have to) by conner_is_alive

(( the trans scout obsession has me in a vice

also if i don’t vent my trans sadness i will literally rip a government building down brick by brick lmao ))

The fic that made me a trans Scout believer. If you're on the fence about that headcanon, maybe give this fic a read.

**~~Kith And Kin by BOREDGrace23

(( Mick never thought much of the BLU team. They were just clones, after all. Designed to be their opponents in a meaningless war.

That's why when he woke up, his vision blurry, his brain blistering from a headache like he'd just woken up from a hangover, and several burning questions about what had happened, he thought it was strange that they hadn't killed him already.

//

Or, BLU are clones and RED are decidedly not. They’re then forced to work together when their teams disappear. ))

If you like Emesis Blue, or horror in general, go read Kith And Kin. And when you finish, go give @boredgrace23 some love for such an incredible fic.

**++Der Junge by UpInFlamesWriting

(( Everyone on the team knows that Scout & Medic do not get along. They're like Sniper & Spy, except less bloodthirsty about it. Medic scares Scout, & Scout doesn't give Medic a reason to like him. When the two of them start being more than friendly all of a sudden, the team starts to worry, especially when it becomes obvious that Medic & Scout are keeping secrets from them. Scout & Medic are not about to tell the rest of the team that they are a pair of transsexual men, especially when Medic agrees to help Scout in his transition. For all the weirdness that goes on in the base, the world is not kind to queer people, & they aim to keep the reason behind their friendship a secret, even if it kills them. ))

Trans Scout and Trans Medic solidarity fic. I need more of this.

Eight Mercenaries and A Toddler by ChaosandMayhem

(( When Respawn malfunctions and their annoying Scout is turned into something far more precocious, it'll take all of the RED team's wits and patience to look after him. At the same time, Engineer must find a way to turn Scout back into an adult before the BLUs-or anyone else-realizes what's happened. No pairings, just a bunch of exhausted trained killers and one hyperactive child. ))

An Ancient Text from 2012 and the only FF.Net fic on this list, EMaAT is a classic for me. Lot's of Spy backstory, if memory serves. Quotes from this live rent free in my mind.

PracticalEspionage:

++Under the Lake by Her_AngelEyes

(( Engineer goes fishing. Hilarity ensues. ))

Don't let the description fool you. This is a non-con/mind break fic. If you like darkfic stuff, than this is for you~

[thatdisasterauthor]

I am so fucking exhausted right now. I really felt like I was starting to get my feet under me over the summer, and now I'm back to barely keeping my head above water, and I'm just so done with this bullshit.

I start my full time dispatcher job in maybe Marchish, but the permanent pay fix didn't go through so we've got another year or two of regular pay plus a retention bonus, then my pay might get slashed by 30-50% because I highly doubt the incoming administration is going to be any more favorable to wildland firefighting than the current one.

And I don't even know how the hell I'm going to make it to Marchish without dipping into my top surgery fund because $164/week in unemployment is a fucking joke. I would've been better off if they'd just never taken the damn unemployment taxes out of my paycheck in the first fucking place.

And top surgery! My original date for it passed the other day and it hit me like a fucking truck. I've been so damn uncomfortable ever since and I just want to rip the damn things off. But I have no fucking clue how I'm going to afford it now.

And then there's my books. If the tariffs get passed my main method of publishing, the one that brings me the most income, is down the drain because there's no way I can afford to work with my printer in China if there's a fucking 100% tariff, and there literally aren't ANY printers in the US that offer all the features I need. (And if they claim they do, they're usually just a middle man for working with a Chinese company anyway.) I can still publish in other ways, but it won't get me as much money.

And having a literary agent has honestly been a bit of a clusterfuck for various reasons I'm not going to get into, so any sort of traditional deal is seemingly more and more off the table.

And I gave my dad an ultimatum after the election that I was deeply dissapointed in the fact that he voted for Trump AGAIN, and that if he wasn't willing to work on his racism and other issues I needed to take a step back from having a relationship with him. He never replied and hasn't talked to me since. Haven't spoken to my mother in years. Which just leaves me and my little sister, so I've really got no support network to speak of.

And then there's applying to a PhD, which I want to do so, so badly, but I just can't fathom how I could do that and afford it. The program I'm aiming for is paid, but not even close to enough to support the cost of living where it is, let alone the cost of moving over there.

And I think I need to finally pursue a formal ADHD diagnosis so I can get meds, but I can't do that until I start my new job and get health insurance. And, honestly, I'm really wary of getting a formal diagnosis anyway with the incoming administration. It just feels like something I don't know if I want on paper with all the crap they're trying to pull. But I cannot keep rawdogging this shit without meds.

And you know what? I'm fucking tired of being single. I'm tired of fighting this shit alone. But as an ace, autistic, queer person in a very conservative area (and the fact I can't afford to go out and DO anything) meeting someone is pretty out of the cards, given I have no interest in long distance relationships.

Just.

Ugh. So fucking tired.

I'll make it through, I always do, but man, I am tired of it constantly being a battle.

[artdcnaldson]

mean art in patricks sister au being upset with art after they finally fuck for leaving. so she doesn’t talk to him like for a week. and finally he corners her and takes her to his dorm and fucks the attitude out of her bc shes being a brat

i need this so bad bc 🐞 anon made me feral

Ok this is so different but so fundamentally similar that I’m combining these <3 <3 <3

But mmmm <3 taking a week away from him, denying him the pussy he craves so badly because your feelings are hurt :( Because he can’t keep being mean to you and treating you like you’re disposable. You’re NOT, and you know he actually wants you. Maybe he just needs a reminder of how badly he does.

He knows something’s up when you don’t show up to one of his practices. You usually sit on the bleachers, in a section shaded by the sun. You’ll have your books laid out, your headphones on, and you’ll catch his gaze and wave sweetly, just so he knows you’re there (not that you’re hard to miss). He hated it at first— it was embarrassing and so fucking clingy— but he hated it more that you were gone.

It felt mortifying to text you, to sink to your level, but your absence grated on him. Where were you today?

It’s a while before you respond, just a plain one-word response like he usually sent you. Busy.

That night, he pulls up your facebook page, gets hard looking at pictures from the Mediterranean vacation you went on. He starts to jerk off, but gives up once he remembers he could always just actually fuck you instead of beating off to bikini pics like a fucking loser. He texts you again: Still busy or can I come over?

You type back after ten minutes. Yeah, still busy.

When you walk out of your lecture the next day, Art is waiting nearby. He knows you’re going to say goodbye to your little friends, walk over all cute and dainty, and let him take you back to your dorm. Instead, you avoid eye contact and walk along with your friends. You disappear inside of a coffee shop on campus. He watches you giggling and talking over open textbooks. Occasionally, you sneak a glance outside, like you expect him to be there.

After a week of you brushing him off, he waits outside of your room. You walk up and frown when you see him, distaste dripping from your features. “I’m not in the mood,” you say plainly.

“You’re always in the mood,” he says, wrapping an arm around your waist, tugging you closer, so you’re pressed against his chest. “C’mon, your roommate’s out.”

“She’ll be back any minute,” you lie, wrestling out of his grip. When he persists you just sigh and meet his gaze. “I really don’t feel like being treated like shit right now, okay? It’s a fucking lot to take, and maybe you get off on it, and maybe I do to, but after we’ve both cum it just sucks.”

He swallows, knows he’s in the wrong, but won’t admit it to you like this. “I’m not going to fuck you like a girlfriend,” he says firmly.

You roll your eyes and shake your head. “Yeah, but you could fuck me like a person, at least. Night, Art.”

He feels like a fucking idiot, standing in the middle of the hallway, freshly rejected and wearing it like a battle scar. He sulks back in his room, tries to jerk off to your tits in a bikini but can’t stay hard. That’s your fault.

When he’s outside your lecture in the morning, you sigh and try to avoid him. He jogs to catch up, turns you to face him. “I’ve been an asshole.”

“Yeah,” you reply with a sigh, meeting his gaze. Your eyes are soft, sweet. You’re trying your best to understand, even when he’s not sure if he does. “It’s fine, I mean— I’m not your girlfriend.”

“But you’re… I mean— I’m not fucking anyone else, okay?” It feels like he’s being slowly flayed alive to admit it, to expose that soft mushy side of his heart to you after everything.

And your eyes brighten up, happy and eager, hopeful. "You're not?" When he shakes his head, you practically bounce on your feet. Smiling so sweet and pretty up at him. "Me either. I mean, you knew that."

And he does know that. You wouldn’t even dream of letting another man touch you if it meant it might spoil your chances of being happy with Art. You were still clinging to that hope that he’d pick you, that he’d wake up and realize you’re his sweet, perfect little girlfriend.

“Okay, so we’re good?” He asks, almost frowns because he feels so stupid. If Patrick knew he was acting this fucking whipped for anyone, he’d never let him live it down. But here Art was, trying to make sure you weren’t mad enough to deprive him of your perfect fucking pussy.

And sure enough, you nod, smile sweetly. “I’m free for the afternoon. My next class got cancelled.”

It’s no surprise when he’s right back in your dorm, bullying his cock into your tight little cunt. So pretty beneath him, so fucking devoted. And your body just takes it like an act of fucking worship. He shouldn’t have even apologized, he knew you would wind up begging for it. You needed him that bad. He just got impatient is all.

Your legs wrap around his waist, tugging him closer, deeper. “So good, so good—“ You gasp, over and over. Your nails dig into the meat of his shoulders as he drives into you, so hard he’s worried you might draw blood. “Fuck, Art— missed this, missed you—“

It had only been— what?— a week? You needed him so bad, craved him with your entire being. It gave him a major fucking ego boost, knowing that the week apart was just as bad for you as it was for him. That you’d been fucking killing yourself to prove a point.

Nicer. He’s supposed to be nicer. He leans down and kisses you hungrily, licking into your mouth while you mewl beneath him. He feels every moan reverberated against his mouth, relishes when you pull back and pant soft gasps against his lips.

When you’ve both cum, when you’re just laying in your sweet, frilly bed and smiling over at him like he hung the moon, he feels a pang of… something. He could’ve done this that first night— stayed, held you a little. He was a dick— just trying to prove a point, prove that you didn’t mean anything.

But look how desperate he was after a mere seven days. Couldn’t even go to another girl to get his dick wet because he just wanted you. He knows he’s fucked— knows he’s already in too deep and he cant crawl out of this hole he’s forced himself into.

You lay your head on his chest and your breathing goes steady after a while. He tries not to feel a twinge of fondness. Tries to remember this is all just to keep you happy so that he can have unrestricted access to your pussy. Tries being the operating word.

[scary-grace]

Enough to Go By (Chapter 4) - a Shigaraki x f!Reader fic

Your best friend vanished on the same night his family was murdered, and even though the world forgot about him, you never did. When a chance encounter brings you back into contact with Shimura Tenko, you'll do anything to make sure you don't lose him again. Keep his secrets? Sure. Aid the League of Villains? Of course. Sacrifice everything? You would - but as the battle between the League of Villains and hero society unfolds, it becomes clear that everything is far more than you or anyone else imagined it would be. (cross-posted to Ao3)

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8

Chapter 4

You think about Tenko more now, but you’re allowed to – he’s your patient, and if he was your patient at the clinic, you’d expect to see him for a follow-up on the four gunshot wounds you cleaned and dressed. You’re allowed to think about him, so you think about him. You think about him a lot.

The thoughts take two directions. One is just wondering about him – how he’s feeling, how he spends his days, what he’s thinking about, what he thinks of you, whether he’s thought about you at all. The other is thinking about the situation he’s in. His parents and grandparents and his sister are dead. He’s been missing for fifteen years. He’s got a quirk and he’s a villain, ambitious and strategic enough to target UA High and escape alive, albeit badly injured. His guardian is a cloud of mist in a suit with some kind of split personality. And there’s someone else in his world – two someone elses. The doctor he referenced, who wouldn’t help him, and the one he calls Sensei, who gave him his new name and a hand to wear over his face and set him up to fail.

You think about Tenko a lot, but you can’t think about him all the time, because now that you’re a nurse, you’re twice as busy as you were before. The doctors expect more of you, and so do the other nurses – and so do the MAs and CNAs and high school students who are starting their apprenticeships, since you now have three years’ experience to go with your reputation for smoothing things over with difficult patients. Your friends keep you busy, too. They might call Kazuo to find out if something’s wrong with them, but they call you to find out what to do about it.

“You need to get a scan,” you say to Yoshimi for probably the fifth time. “I know you don’t want to –”

“It’s weird!”

“Not any weirder than whatever Yoji does when the two of you are at second base,” you say, and in the background of the call, someone snickers. If you had to guess, you’d say it’s Mitsuko – she has the guts to bully Yoshimi into making the call, combined with the brass balls to feel comfortable eavesdropping. “It’s called a mammogram. You’d have to start getting them at some point anyway, just like we all do. It’s just to make sure there’s nothing weird going on.”

“Stop it. You’re freaking her out for no reason.” Yoji’s there, too. “It’s probably just an STD.”

You’re stunned into silence for a second by the sheer classlessness of saying that about one’s own girlfriend, but you bounce back fast. “First of all, they’re called STIs, genius. Secondly, there’s not an STI on the planet that gives you nipple discharge. Yoshimi, get the scan. I’ll go with you if you want. Just get it done.”

“Can I do it at your clinic?”

“Uh –” You glance at the Imaging queue. Things look quiet, but you can’t count on that to last – but if you report Yoshimi’s symptoms, which include soreness, nipple discharge, and what she describes as a weird rash, you’re pretty sure the doctor on call will bump her to the head of the line. “Yeah, come in now. I can’t stick around after my shift, though. I have stuff to do tonight.”

“Ooh, stuff. Let me see –” There’s some rustling, which you can only assume is Mitsuko grabbing the phone. “Is stuff tall, dark, handsome, way too serious, and currently working as a sidekick?”

“That would be stuff,” you admit. “It’s not a big deal. We’re just grabbing a drink after our shifts.”

For the first time since you and Kazuo broke up, you have a date, and it’s Kazuo’s fault. Or maybe it’s you and your friends’ fault, because you decided to throw Kazuo a twentieth birthday party and invited a few of his friends from UA. One of those friends is Sugimura Hiroki, who fits perfectly with your type of dark-haired boys who want to be heroes and who’s so painfully shy that it took him six beers and the entire party to talk to you. You were sort of weirded out by that. You’re not very intimidating, and you spent the first half of the conversation trying to figure out if he knew you were quirkless, since you learned the hard way that it’s something you need to disclose up front. But the two of you eventually worked your way around to the point, which was that Sugimura wants to get to know you better, and he tripped over his tongue so badly that you finally just asked him out to end the suspense.

It’s taken you a while to actually schedule the date, but tonight’s the night, and you’re sort of anxious about it. Luckily, work is busy enough to keep you distracted. Your lunch break ends while Mitsuko is still going into increasingly nasty speculations about Sugimura’s physical attributes, and you hang up the phone without saying goodbye.

There’s a message waiting for you on your computer, from the front desk. FOF. Can you take him?

It’s not Tenko. You know Tenko wouldn’t come here again. You send the same message you did when it was him. How F are we talking?

Jumpy, talking to himself, chainsmoking. He’s in costume.

“In costume” could literally mean that the patient’s wearing a costume, but it’s also code for when the front desk thinks the patient’s a villain. You’re used to dealing with villains by now. Send him back.

When the knock on the door comes, you’re ready and waiting, and the CNA ushers in a tall man in a black-and-grey bodysuit – so “in costume” was literal this time around – and a paper bag over his head. You’re momentarily transfixed by the paper bag, and more so when you realize that he’s bringing a lighted cigarette to his mouth while wearing something highly flammable on his face. The CNA shuts the door and bolts. You face your patient and introduce yourself. “Have a seat if you feel comfortable doing so. What brings you in today?”

“I’m not – whole.”

That’s concerning. “Are you injured?” Your concern grows when he gestures at his face. “It would really help if I could see the injury. Can you take the bag off?”

He shakes his head. Instead he reaches into his pocket and produces a torn full-face mask. You look at him, then at him, putting the pieces together. “How do you feel right now?”

He doesn’t answer – maybe can’t answer – so you default to the face chart you use when little kids aren’t able to express how they feel in words. Your patient points to scared, stressed, anxious, angry. Then he throws in happy, possibly to mess with you, or to distract you from the fact that the first four emotions indicate that he’s ready to snap at any second. “How about this?” you ask, after thinking it over. “I can ask the doctor to give you something that will help you calm down –”

“Please!” The patient bursts out. Drug-seeking? “No, I don’t need it, sister! I’m so calm it’s hard to believe.”

“Okay, then we’ll just have it here in case you decide you want it. As an option,” you say, keeping your voice smooth and calm. “Either way, this is a quiet place to wait. You’re safe in here with me. And if you want, I can sew up your mask for you. Would that help?”

“You can do that?”

“Easily,” you say. “Can I see it for a second? I need to make sure I grab the right thread.”

The patient hands the mask over, which is a good sign. You’ve established at least a little bit of trust. You examine the mask and decide that you’ll need the thinnest-gauge needle and thread you have. “I can definitely fix this,” you tell the patient. “It might look a little rough, but it’ll cover you up like it did before. And it should last until you get where you’re going.”

The patient nods. You stand up. “I’m going to get some supplies, and a little anxiety medication if you decide you want it. I’ll be right back, okay? Just wait here.”

The patient nods again. Given how labile his mood is, you need to be fast about this, and get back before he gets upset or decides to leave. You step out the door and shut it behind you, heading for the supply closet, but you’re waylaid on the way there by one of the doctors. “We need you up front. Now.”

“I can’t. I have a patient, and he’s –”

“I don’t care. We’ve got a hero coming to visit, and we need somebody to keep things calm,” the doctor says. Shit. “Figure out what they want, get them as little of it as you can get away with, and get them out of here.”

“Which hero?”

The doctor shakes his head. Great. “Just hurry.”

You can’t go just yet. “My patient’s got a lot of anxiety and he’s in costume. I need him to stay calm. Can you –”

“2mg diazepam. I’ll put it in the chart.” The doctor unlocks one of the medicine cabinets, extracts a prefilled dosage cup, and hands it to you. “Go.”

Diazepam is long-acting. Hopefully long-acting enough to keep your patient quiet while you get rid of the hero. You skitter back down the hall with the dosage cup and hand it over to the patient, along with a tiny bottle of water to wash it down. “I’ll be right back. Just finding the right thread.”

The patient downs the pill dry, which is both good and bad for you. You shut the door again and head for the lobby. You don’t make it there. A cloud of black mist boils up around you, swallowing you whole.

By the time your feet hit the familiar wooden floor of the bar, you’re already out of patience. “No. Send me back right now.”

“Shigaraki Tomura has need of you. You will assist him.”

“Not right now I won’t. You snatched me from work,” you say. You’re facing the wall and the All Might poster again, and you don’t want to turn around. If you see Tenko, it’ll make it harder to say no. “If I go missing, people will notice. Is he dying?”

“No,” Kurogiri says.

“Is he in imminent danger of dying?”

“No.”

“Then send me back,” you say. If Tenko’s asked Kurogiri to get you, it means he needs medical assistance – or follow-up. You’ve needed to follow up anyway. “I can come back later.”

“No, I need you right now!”

“How much later?” Kurogiri asks, ignoring Tenko’s protest.

You think it over. You can dispense with the hero situation quickly, stitch your patient’s mask, and sneak out of work early. They’ll have to give you the emergency time off. You’ve never asked before in three years of working there. “Ninety minutes.”

“That’s too long. Kurogiri, don’t let her leave!”

“Ninety minutes. I’ll be in the alley behind the clinic.” You ignore Tenko, too, in favor of focusing on Kurogiri. He’s the one who decides if you leave or not. “All right?”

The mist wells up around you again, which counts as a yes. You land on your feet in the hallway, reorient yourself, and head for the lobby again. Tenko wants you again – needs you, your stupid brain corrects – but he’s going to have to wait for you to sort this out.

The hero in the lobby is Uwabami, the Snake Hero, and she’s got two sidekicks with her. No, students. You recognize one of them from your limited viewing of the UA Sports Festival and feel a spike of guilt run through you. She’s from Class 1-A. The same class Tenko tried to kill.

You don’t need to think about that, and you don’t need to feel guilty, because you didn’t do anything to her. You force yourself to focus. Uwabami wouldn’t have brought high school students here if she was doing any kind of investigating, which means your patient and any others who might be nervous around law enforcement are probably safe. The question of why she’s here still remains. You step forward. “Welcome to Yokohama Free Clinic South. What can we help you with today?”

“We’re on patrol,” Uwabami says. “My interns gave some feedback that our patrol involved a little too much publicity –”

The students look unrepentant. Good for them. “So we’re engaging in some down-to-earth patrolling,” Uwabami continues. “Tell us about how heroes support your clinic.”

Heroes don’t support your clinic. Most heroes strongly dislike the free clinic network, and the feeling is mutual, for a bunch of reasons you’re more than willing to articulate. Then you think better of it. Picking a fight with a hero in front of hero students is a bad move if you want to get out of here any time soon, and if you’re going to keep helping Tenko, you need to stay completely off the heroic radar. You focus on the students instead. “You’re on internships, right? They’re supposed to show you what life will be like as a hero.”

“Yes,” the girl who’s not from 1-A says. “They’re supposed to.”

“We have a program like that here, too,” you say. You gesture for them to come forward, and they desert their supervising hero at high speed. “A lot of our nurses and techs started working here in high school. Let me introduce you.”

You’re on much more solid ground talking about this. This clinic and this program saved your ass – without their sponsorship, you’d never have been able to get around your quirklessness as a barrier to nursing school, and you started getting on-the-job clinical training while most other nursing students were stuck in the classroom. You catch yourself evangelizing a little bit, but you don’t think it’s the worst thing in the world to do. You’re proud of the work you do as part of the clinic. It’s nice to get to talk about it.

You clear the hero students out in half an hour, hoping you’ve impressed them even a little bit, then hurry back to your patient. The diazepam’s kicked in nicely, and he chatters away to you while you stitch the tear in his mask. You learn that his name is Jin, or Bubaigawara, or Twice, which you’d guess are his first name, his family name, and his villain name, in that order. He doesn’t say how his mask got torn and you don’t ask, but you send him on his way in a better mood than before. “Thanks, sister,” he says on his way out the door. “You could be worse. You’re a saint!”

Different tone, different pitch, completely different meaning between the first sentence and the second. It reminds you of Kurogiri. You know enough villains now that you can compare them to one another. You shake your head, bemused, then head back inside. Time to guilt-trip your boss into letting you leave two hours early.

Your guilt-trip is successful, mostly because of how you handled the hero situation, but as you’re trying to sneak out, Yoshimi arrives for her scan. After you cajoled her into the office, you can’t abandon her to some random tech. You do abandon Mitsuko in the waiting room, though – she says the words “nipple discharge” as loudly as possible, then starts picking on the scant amount of makeup you did for your date. You don’t feel bad at all for leaving her behind.

Yoshimi’s scan goes quickly, and just like you feared, it nets her a follow-up appointment at the main branch of the free clinic tomorrow. Tomorrow’s your day off. You promise her you’ll go with her – you, and not Mitsuko or Yoji – then talk the doctor into sending her home with a dose of a different anti-anxiety medication than the one you got for Twice. Then you check your phone for the time. Almost ninety minutes exactly. You race out to the alley.

The mist engulfs you almost the instant you set foot in the alley, and you’re in the bar a moment later, facing Kurogiri. Tenko’s nowhere to be found, and before you can ask the question, Kurogiri turns and sets off through a doorway, deeper into the recesses of the building. You follow him, wondering if this counts as being taken to a secondary location. Or maybe the bar counts as the secondary location, even though you’ve been here before. Either way, you’ve listened to way too many of Mitsuru’s true-crime podcasts.

Kurogiri leads you into an absolutely filthy room. The floor is covered – empty wrappers, empty cans, old newspapers and magazines, plastic cases for game disks and chips. You have a bad feeling about who lives here, and when Kurogiri clears his throat and speaks up, you’re proven right. “Shigaraki Tomura. I have brought the girl.”

The only semi-organized spot in the room is a desk with two monitors on it, a keyboard in front of it, and Tenko slumped down with his head pillowed on one arm. He looks up, and for a split second, you can see that he’s happy even behind the hand. Then his face turns bright red and his expression twists into a snarl. “I told you not to bring her in here! Get out!”

You don’t need to be told twice. You duck out the door and retreat about twenty feet down the hallway, listening as Kurogiri tries to placate Tenko. “You asked for her to be brought to you immediately, not for me to summon you when she arrived. I followed your orders to the letter.”

“I didn’t want –” Tenko breaks off, swears. Then he mumbles something, and Kurogiri chuckles. “Don’t laugh at me!”

You check your phone. You aren’t supposed to meet Sugimura until eight, but you’ve got no idea how long this particular encounter is going to run. You might need to tell him you’re running late. You’ve just sent the text and tucked your phone away when Kurogiri reappears. “We will return to the bar,” he says. “Shigaraki Tomura awaits you there.”

So Kurogiri warped him to the bar. You wonder what that was all about. Was Tenko embarrassed that you saw how filthy his room was, or just embarrassed that you saw his room at all? Or did he change his mind about wanting you here? The last thought upsets you. You follow Kurogiri back into the bar and find Tenko sitting at the counter. It’s an improvement from the last time you saw him, when he was sprawled out and bleeding from four gunshot wounds, but this time he’s got his arms crossed, clearly pissed about something. His face is still red behind the hand. There’s a bloodstained bandage taped to his right shoulder.

A pile of supplies appears on the bar as you come closer. “What happened this time?”

“It wouldn’t stop bleeding.” Tenko uncrosses his left arm to gesture at the wound. “This is the fourth one I’ve used.”

If he’s gone through four bandages, it must be pretty deep. “How long ago did it happen?”

“Two hours,” Kurogiri says. “Shigaraki Tomura sent me to retrieve you immediately.”

“Can you fix it or not?” Tenko snaps.

“I need to see it first,” you say. You come a few steps closer, sit down facing Tenko on the barstool next to his, and reach for the bandage. He doesn’t stop you from unwrapping it, and you detour to glove up before you start peeling the fabric of his shirt back from the wound. It’s oozing blood rapidly. It’s jagged at the edges, and deep – if you suctioned the blood away, you’d be looking at exposed muscle, and you’re so horrified by the fact that Tenko’s been badly hurt again that you ask a question you shouldn’t. “How did this happen?”

“Hero Killer,” Tenko says, and your stomach lurches. “I thought he might be useful, but he’s just like the rest of them. Obsessed with the precious Symbol of Peace.”

You don’t know very much about the Hero Killer, except that he kills or cripples heroes and he’s not in Yokohama any longer. Tenko’s still ranting. “Why can’t anybody shut up about All Might? Don’t they know –”

“That he’s not gonna fuck them?” you interrupt, and Tenko nearly chokes. “I guess they can dream.”

Tenko’s expression is contorting behind the hand. You’re pretty sure it’s not the result of your explorations of the wound, because you’re not touching it. You watch, concerned, as his shoulders shake and his mouth twitches, until awkward, rusty laughter finally issues from his mouth.

You always try to make people laugh. You’ve been in the habit since you were little. It’s an effective strategy for defusing tension, whether the joke is funny or not, and your jokes are usually at least kind of funny. But you always liked making Tenko laugh when you were kids. You were always just a little prouder of that than you were with other people. Tenko made people smile all the time. He deserved for somebody to make him laugh, too.

Tenko’s laughter is brief and uneven, because he’s trying to get it under control. “Stop it,” he finally snaps at you. His mouth is still twitching. “It’s serious.”

“Right,” you agree. But you can’t resist another joke. “It would be a novel strategy. If you can’t beat the Symbol of Peace, make him unfuckable instead.”

“I can beat him,” Tenko says, but his voice is strained to the point of snapping, and his shoulders are shaking again. “Can you fix my arm or not?”

“I can fix it,” you say, “but I’ll need a suture kit. And I’ll either need to cut your sleeve or you’ll need to take your shirt off.”

“I’m not taking my shirt off.” Tenko’s face is red again. “It’s ruined anyway. Just cut it.”

You cut his sleeve open from the neckline and peel it back, then go looking through the medical supplies. Kurogiri took your advice about additions to their supplies, and nothing turned up missing at work, which means they honored your request to steal from someone else. You’ve got local anesthetic this time, which is good, because you need it. You start numbing the edges of the wound, asking every so often if Tenko can feel what you’re doing. When he stops saying yes, you open the suture kit.

It’s a bit weird, but putting stitches in is one of your favorite parts of the job. You can get in the zone with it, even when the patient wants to talk. Tenko wants to talk. “People talk about the League of Villains out there. Don’t they?” he asks. You nod. “What do they say?”

“Um –” You’re not sure this is an answer Tenko wants to hear. “They’re wondering why the attack on UA happened.”

“What do you mean, why?”

“Like, if there was a message behind it,” you elaborate. You need to be careful, with the stitches and with this line of thought. “More than just killing All Might, because lots of villains want to do that. If there was a message, it didn’t get out. The police and UA haven’t shared much information – not even how the breach happened in the first place.”

Tenko scoffs. “They don’t have a clue. They won’t see it coming the next time we hit them, either.”

He’s planning something else. Your blood runs cold, and for a moment you’re torn about whether or not to ask. Tenko makes the decision for you. “What else do they say about the League?”

“Not very much, otherwise,” you say, and Tenko swears. “There are a lot of villains, just like there are a lot of heroes. People talk about the ones they see the most of.”

“Which heroes do you talk about?”

“I don’t really talk about heroes.” You tie off a stitch, trim the thread to the appropriate length, and take another. “One of my friends has this nasty crush on Endeavor, so we talk about him sometimes, but otherwise – no.”

“Your friend has a crush on Endeavor,” Tenko repeats.

“Like I said. Nasty.”

You’re conscious of Tenko staring at you, and you will your face not to heat up under his gaze. You don’t even know why he’s staring, and you’ve got stitches to do, so it doesn’t matter. Your phone buzzes in your pocket – probably Sugimura, probably confirming your date. A date you’re not sure you want to go on anymore. Did you ever really want to go on it? Or did you just say yes because –

“You look weird.”

You look up from the stitches, startled. “Huh?”

“You look weird,” Tenko repeats. “Your clothes are different and you’ve got stuff on your face.”

Tenko and Mitsuko feel the same about your makeup skills, apparently. “Sorry.”

“Why do you look like that?” Tenko presses. You tie off his next stitch. “Are you going on a date or something?”

You answer without thinking about whether it’s the smart thing to do. “Yes.”

It’s quiet for a long stretch of seconds. “Go on your date, then,” Tenko says. His voice is flat. “I don’t need you.”

It stings. You don’t want it to, but it does, and you look down at the cut on his shoulder so he won’t see it on your face. “You still need a few more stitches. At least let me finish them.”

“No. Get out.” Tenko jerks out of your grip. You barely have enough time to cut the hanging thread on your last stitch. “I don’t want you here. Kurogiri –”

“Shigaraki Tomura, I’m not sure that’s wise.”

“I didn’t ask you!” Tenko swats at you open-handed and you leap backwards. “Get out! I don’t –”

You don’t hear the end of that sentence. Kurogiri warps you away too fast, and possibly saves your life. He drops you back in the alley behind the clinic, holding half a suture kit and still wearing bloodstained gloves. You peel them off and dump them into the garbage, furious with yourself. You shouldn’t have said that. You shouldn’t have talked about your life at all, and above all else, you should have remembered that you were talking to a villain, not your best friend – that whatever’s left of your best friend isn’t enough. He’s angry with you, and he’s been having you followed. Just how angry is he? Angry enough to hurt you? Or angry enough to never talk to you again?

You’re sickened and more than a little scared to realize that you’re more frightened of the latter possibility than the former. It’s entirely possible that you’ve never been in less of a mood to go on a date.

But you do go on the date, because you said you would, and it’s – fine. There’s nothing to complain about, but there’s nothing to be excited about, either. You and Sugimura hug to say goodbye, and you promise to text each other about setting up another one, and then you walk home. Mitsuko texts you, wanting details, or DETAILS, but you’ve got nothing to share. It was just a date, and no matter how many times you try to tell yourself otherwise, you’re angry about it.

Not because of Sugimura asking you out, not because you agreed, not because you went. Because you told Tenko and gave him a reason to get rid of you. Why does this keep happening? Why do you keep finding him and losing him, over and over again? What is it going to take for you to hold on?

“So how was the date?”

The voice emanates from the alleyway on your right and you nearly jump out of your skin. Tenko’s there, hand down from over his face, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest. He hasn’t changed his shirt. “I didn’t think heroes were your type.”

“They aren’t.”

“Then why were you on a date with one?”

“He asked.”

“And you just go with whoever asks?” Tenko looks half-incredulous, half-disgusted. You shake your head. “Forget it. Come with me.”

You shake your head again and take a step back – away from the alley, closer to the street. Tenko looks frustrated. “Come with me,” he repeats.

“What, so you can kill me?” You take another step back, well into the glow of a streetlight. You see shock flicker across Tenko’s face. “I don’t have a death wish.”

“Well, I don’t want to kill you,” Tenko fires back. He looks surprised at himself for saying it, but only for a moment – then he repeats himself, with more conviction. “I don’t want to kill you. You’re supposed to be my sidekick.”

Your jaw drops. “You remember?”

“I don’t remember everything.” Tenko takes the hand called Father out of the back pocket of his pants and studies it for a moment. Then he puts it away. “I remember that.”

Some kids played a different game every day. You and Tenko always played the same one, with a rotating cast of classmates at your side. All the heroes in the world were working together to fight one big villain, the worst villain the world had ever seen, and Tenko could never decide which hero he liked best, so he played a different one every day. But no matter which hero he played, no matter who else was playing with the two of you, you were always his sidekick. You reminded him every day that you didn’t have a quirk, and he always said the same thing in response, no matter which hero he was pretending to be that day, even though he didn’t have a quirk, either: You don’t need a quirk to be on my side. My quirk’s enough for both of us.

“Come on,” Tenko says again. He holds out his hand, three fingers and his thumb folded down, his pinky finger extended towards you. “Are you coming or what?”

You’ve never seen the world in black and white, but some things are unmistakable: There’s a line here, not visible to others but clear as day to you. On one side of it is Tenko and the darkness that’s swallowed him, the evil that surrounds him, the terrible things he’s done and is planning to do. On the other side is everything else – your dreams, your friends, your family that’s always loved you but used you anyway, a world that’s punished you time and time again for being born without a quirk, the knowledge that the world is so much crueler to so many others. You don’t think Tenko’s planning to kidnap you, to never let you leave. You’ll come back here, physically. You’ll go home and go to sleep and wake up early on your day off to take Yoshimi to her appointment at the main clinic, but you know instinctively that if you cross this line within yourself, there’s no coming back. Tenko was your best friend when you were five years old. Is he worth it?

You hate yourself for asking the question. You leave the light behind and link your finger with Tenko’s. “Where are we going?”

The black mist rises and wells up around you both. “You’ll see,” Tenko says, and for the first time since you found him again, he smiles.

[demonslayedher]

What if nezuko and tanjiro were raised by Obanai and Mitsuri?

Whoa, I have never considered this. Let's assume an altered timeline, so, say, itty-bitty Tanjiro hid with almost-walking Nezuko in a closet when a demon killed their parents. Mitsuri and Obanai, who like one another and have sort of figured that out by they are awkward about where to take it from there (since Mitsuri doesn't want to make the first move but can't figure out why Obanai won't), arrive on the scene, and Kaburamaru finds the hiding children.

Mitsuri is instantly attached and wants very badly to make it up to these orphaned children whom she failed. Obanai is trying to tell her why that idea is irresponsible, but Kaburamaru has already become fiercely attached to the terrified children who find comfort in the cuddly snake. It's not as if Obanai can't relate to that, so he gives in, on the caveat that they will take care of them only until they can hand them off to someone more qualified.

They're first thought is Shinobu, but she already has her hands full. They ask the Kakushi, but the Kakushi insist that this is out of their skill set. They think of asking Ubuyashiki but don't want to bother him by setting a precedent. No luck at Wisteria Houses they come across, who are already doing all they can. Wishing to find someone with experience to adopt them, Obanai makes a desperate visit to Shinjuro, who yells at him to take responsibility and get what was coming to him by so idealistically becoming a swordsman. He announces to Mitsuri (who is already very attached) that they'll see their responsibility through.

Since the Kamado children stay at the Kanroji estate most of the time, this is what gets Obanai to finally meet her family, which pressures them more into considering the state of their relationship, especially they Obanai spends time with the children out of a sense of responsibility and Mitsuri, once the decision to keep them was made, wants to spend as much free time with them as possible. Being in a coparent relationship also forces them to confront Obanai's issues.

Both toddlers take to Mitsuri readily, and they like Obanai too, but they both (especially Tanjiro, who can talk better) are sensitive to him being sad. Obanai is nice and tries to be child-appropriate but answers very plainly and honestly when Tanjiro asks why he's sad, thinking that this is out of respect for a child's intellect. Poor Tanjiro wants to help but is often confused. Obanai is a little annoyed how buddy-buddy Tanjiro and Kaburamaru are but he allows it. As Tanjiro grows up and the snake gets older, Kaburamaru spends less and less time in battle with Obanai. Tanjiro is a dutiful son whom Obanai figures pucked up a lot of traits from being raised by Mitsuri, but he reminds Tanjiro to always be grateful to his original family who loved and protected him too. This makes him supportive (albeit concerned for his safety) when Tanjiro says he wants to fight demons too. Tanjiro eventually picks up Snake Breathing, though Obanai points out that he's not totally suited for it. (If it weren't for how annoying he finds Giyuu, he would suggest Tanjiro try Water Breathing.)

Mitsuri is less supportive because she worries about Tanjiro's safety. He is her wonderful son whom she loves very much, after all. But if he's sure he can accept the risks, she allows him to try.

Nezuko has grown up babied by her unckes and aunts and does not know the responsibility of being an older sister. She always wants to be just like her mom (but Obanai sternly put a stop her dressing up like mom, which made little Nezuko cry because she didn't understand why he was angry). She wears fancy kimono and makes sweets and wears long braids and goes to school, and is a dutiful and sweet daughter as she grows up. Despite having riches, this does seem to go to her head, and she still practices humilty and thrift, which really endears her to Obanai. He originally was a bit more standoffish from Nezuko, but Nezuko feels secure in his care for her even if it's nothing like the open, loving, huggy relationship she has with her adoptive mother. When Tanjiro picks up the sword, she insists on learning too, but Tanjiro and Mitsuri don't want this. Obanai lets her give it a shot, but she's too fiery for Snake Breath, and not physically capable of Love Breath, despite how much she has always done her best to imitate mom.

So Nezuko finally does something a spoiled brat would do and she runs away to ask Uncle Kyojuro for Flame Breath training. This causes a brief argument between Hashira but it is soon settled, and Tanjiro sort of wishes he had thought of that before getting so deep into making Snake Breath work for him. Tanjiro & Kaburamaru and Nezuko eventually go through the Final Selection together and begin a sibling journey to avenge their birth parents, with their adoptive parents giving them their blessing and watching over them from afar.

And then, having seem that through, Obanai is finally ready to get married.

[baddybaddyadardaddy]

Fanfic writer interview

Thanks for the tag, @niennawept!! (& answering under this blog since the VAST majority of my fic is Adar-related)

How many works do you have on AO3? 14, which feels insane to me.

What’s your total AO3 word count? 202,906, which again... feels insane. I'm pretty sure Adar is to blame for like, 195,000 of those words.

Your top 5 stories by kudos/likes:

Awake, Arise or Be For Ever Fall'n: My longest work, Adar's life story from his awakening at Cuivienen to the Battle of the Last Alliance. (Written and completed pre-S2, so his story after Orodruin erupts is, um, different than in the show canon. So technically it's a fix-it fic.)

sister golden hair: The Adar x Mirdania fic that I NEVER expected to write. This started as a ONE-SHOT and then exploded into an angst-riddled tale of accidental necromancy and Tolkienian zombies. Deus ex Mirdania!!!!

Son of the Darkness: The one-shot that started it all. The moment that my brain became fully unhinged. The original one-shot sketch of Adar's life story.

memories of dancing: A fic I wrote when I lost my mind temporarily pre-siege of Eregion episode premiere and decided to entertain the crack idea that Adar = Celeborn. No regrets.

Blood on My Name: Awwww... a throwback to the days when Kastle (Karen Page x Frank Castle from The Punisher) had taken over my brain. A little AU where a badly wounded Frank shows up at Karen's door in the middle of the night. Midnight MacGyver surgery FTW!

Do you respond to comments? Why or why not? I try! I have not been historically the best at this, partly because for awhile I didn't realize that that was what you were supposed to do. >.< Also sometimes I type responses out and my brain tricks me into thinking that I sound way too dumb so I abort mission. But I've been trying to be much better about it because yes, fandom should be a conversation and I'm so grateful for every comment I get!

What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending? LMAO TAKE YOUR PICK, I AM THE CAPTAIN OF THE PAIN TRAIN. Honestly, though, I guess it depends on your definition of pain. I think Awake, Arise ended on a hopeful/Tolkienian note, so I actually wouldn't say that one. I think it might be "what law can lovers move," which was a little lyrical Turgon x Elenwe oneshot that I did, inspired by Orpheus and Euryidice. Those two hurt me so good.

What’s the fic you’ve written with the happiest ending? Mmmmm... I think "in the halls of awaiting," a companion ficlet to Awake, Arise from the POV of Erenyë, Adar's spouse in my canon, as she waits for him in the halls of Mandos. It was SUCH an angsty fic to write, but their reunion made it all better. That said, I DON'T REALLY DO OVERTLY HAPPY ENDINGS, SORRY.

Do you write crossovers? Nope.

Have you ever received hate on a fic? I don't think so.

Do you write smut? If so, what kind? I DIDN'T, AND THEN ADAR X ERENYE TOOK OVER MY BRAIN. "A Knife in the Dark" is the AU smutfest of Awake, Arise and I like to say that it's what happens when you don't let your characters fuck each other enough in the longfic.

Have you ever had a fic stolen? Let's hope not.

Have you ever had a fic translated? Not yet!

Have you ever co-written a fic before? No... writing is kind of a solitary endeavor for me. I'd entertain editing, but probably not co-writing.

What’s your all-time favorite ship? I'm staring at this question going "why can I not think of an answer for this"? I mean this feels so self-promotional/self-indulgent to say, but I'm high-key obsessed with my OC Erenyë and I've definitely dedicated the most brain space to shipping her and Adar over the past two years. Turgon and Elenwe also have OTP status in my brain, as well as Kastle and SANSAN.

What’s a WIP that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will? Mmmmm... I think maybe "Tides of Fate Onward Run"? I started this something like TEN YEARS AGO, and the basic idea was to tell the story of Gollum and his corruption by the ring through the POV of Nienna. It was a neat little exploration and I had intended it to be a way to explore a lot of the Valar headcanons I have. Maybe one day I'll get back to it...

What are your writing strengths? Mmm... I think maybe my canon adherence? For the most part that is my sweet spot with fic-- I like to craft stories that can fit very snugly into exisiting canon with few deviations. Especially with Awake, Arise, I wanted Adar's story to feel like it could have slipped right out of Tolkiens Silmarillion canon.

What are your writing weaknesses? Ugh I think sometimes I can slip into passive voice and I hate that. Also sometimes I feel like my descriptions are just way too flat and I can fall into "telling instead of showing."

What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic? The only other languages I really use are Tolkien's... and I'm for it!

What’s a fandom/ship you haven’t written for yet but want to? Mmmm... well technically I have written for this ship, but I've never published publicly... and may never. It's Lalwen x Fingolfin. It's wrong. It's scandalous. It's a mess of feelings. There's extensive Helcaraxë angst/trauma involved. Don't @ me, they are so compelling to me. I'M UNREPENTANT, LOOK AWAY.

What’s your favorite fic you’ve written? Awake, Arise! I'm so goddamned proud of that fic. I'd never actually completed anything novel length (fic-wise or original) before I wrote that fic. So that was a big deal for me to do as a writer. And I really felt like I told a damn story.

ANYWAY tagging @brynnmclean, @permanentlyexhaustedpigeon88 @mylovelylittleobsessions @clumsycopy and anyone else who wants to play!!!

[yandere-sins]

Before reading: R18+, Mature Content Warning, Violence/Gore Warning, Yandere Warning

Oh, my, look what the wave swept in!

Yet another misplaced human in these wondrous waters, a… poor unfortunate soul, as my sister would say. It hasn’t been that long since another tribe—who was it? The sharks?—had been… blessed with an unusual mate. And now there’s you! How exciting! The orcas are a little temperamental, but I’m sure they’ll treat you lovingly– 

Oh… so you want to leave? Already?

Ambitious, are we? Escape the creatures and get back to land. Well, don’t you look determined? Think you can handle these three strong orcas all by yourself? I’d love to see it. I delight in everything happening around these depths of the ocean, as they are so dark and deep, with barely anything transpiring all day. But as of late, love, freedom, and misery swim hand in hand down here. Intelligence and instincts fight battles that are beyond your little human comprehension. I could not be more pleased with the beautiful bonds that are being woven under the sea.

But I will cheer you on, I promise! I might even have some tips for you, seeing how I’ve been around these sandy lands and great reefs longer than you have!

I don’t think you can trust anyone besides me, really, but you’ll need an ally if you want to get back home. But be careful choosing who you trust. Sometimes you have to take drastic actions to get out of a situation, but there are also times when you need to sit back, stay calm, and let someone else handle it for you. And as badly as I know you want to get out… don’t do anything rash.

These orcas have a fickle disposition, and you wouldn’t want them to decide you’re no fun or tastier than they initially thought. In fact, you don’t want them to think about you at all! Otherwise —ey w—t l— —u ——!

You wake up before the voice can finish. Open your eyes?

Welcome, welcome to Mermay ( & Merjune) 2023!

I think most of you have already understood what will happen, but I thought I'd give a small heads-up about the how, so we're all on the same page:

This will be an interactive story, which means you guys will have to work together to figure out how to continue onwards by choosing the right poll option. Every chapter comes with a decision at the end, and three possible choices. But only one will continue the story while the other two lead to 'Bad Ends' aka not continue the story. Your goal is to escape the three orcas because they won't always like your decision, unfortunately.

I can already tell you that if the majority votes for a Bad End, you'll be able to choose again at the end of it, hopefully picking the right option this time. The story will not stop just because the right option wasn't picked. But who knows? Maybe choosing wrong is actually the better option sometimes (;

To clarify, there are 5 main chapters (the right choices) in total, 10 possible Bad Ends and 1 True End. This is not a video game so there are no secret routes. Nothing will change if you choose certain options after another. Your goal ultimately is to finish this story. But... some interactions and information may or may not be hidden in Bad Ends that could be enjoyable to you as well. (After finishing the main story I'll let you guys pick some other options you would have liked to see if you're interested in that ^-^)

One more exciting thing! I was able to commission a good friend of mine to actually do references for the orcas! We're still working on them but I hope you guys will enjoy some visuals of the new bois ♥

And for good measure: Please read the warnings on the individual posts, as some of the stories contain disturbing content not suited for everyone. Don't read what you don't like.

Thank you for participating and I hope you guys will be able to enjoy the story as much as I do ♥ (If you have questions, please ask away any time! ♥)

[bonefall]

can you give us more info on Spottedleaf’s Plague and the events leading up to the beginning of the first book?

Sure! Spottedleaf's Plague is still pretty loose right now, I have an ending in mind but the central theme is still up in the air. It's one of my looser planned SEs, it rotates around in my head like a microwave but it's still uncooked.

(Horrible Histories Plague Song Tune)

The intro is largely Spotty, Red, and Tiger as apprentices.

Whitestorm is a young warrior above them, and the cool older cousin of Red and Spotty

A lot of the dynamic is established. Spotty and Tiger are BESTIES and cradling a mutual crush, Red is kind of a snappish, awkward apprentice

Redtail is trans and is going to transition about midway through this book btw

Thrushpelt is Redtail's mentor. Thistleclaw is Tigerpaw's mentor. Unsure who is Spottedpaw's mentor; looking to pick a molly here.

Growing up, Spotty has to deal with how her crummy uncle Thistleclaw suspects her of being halfclan and has basically become intolerant of his sister, Rosetail, for claiming Queen’s Rights

Tigerpaw is picking up a lot of this

Thistle is a violent, abusive person who subjects Tigerpaw to intense training. Spotty is usually the one patching up his minor injuries

The worst of them happen on the day the Parable of the Thistle is written. He's covered in horrible prickles all over his face, and his paws are cut up

This sends him to the Cleric's Den, which is where Spotty eventually falls in love with the idea of being a cleric.

Featherwhisker is AMAZING, he's so funny and wise, she wants to be like him super badly.

Through hanging out with him, she learns she is absolutely fantastic with rituals. She can draw a perfect circle and has a knack for invoking the warriors of StarClan.

But... more than ever, she is losing Tigerpaw. If she becomes Cleric, they can never be mates, or go to battle training, and they'll spend less time on patrol together

More than a possible romantic partner, she is losing a friend, as he's sucked further down the hole Thistleclaw is digging for him

Bluestar became deputy, and then leader, in less than a month. This was towards the end of Spotty's apprenticeship.

She is overjoyed for this, because Blue is her mom's best friend, and Featherwhisker's choice. (and possibly her mentor's mentor, if her warrior mentor was Frostfur)

Big timeskip at a point, because there are 4.5 years of general peace under Bluestar.

The next big event here is the titular plague, which I'm still unsure of what the disease is specifically. HOWEVER, it is going to be the same plague that Runningnose starts in TPB so I'm planning to play loosely with it, to make its rules easier on myself.

It's either a disease like rabies, or black death.

Possibly a mix of both. Frothing Death?

Info: This disease has some kind of obvious physical symptom but is infectious before that point. It has a survival rate, but can stunt growth. Adults and adolescents are more vulnerable to it than kits and elders.

It spreads first by bat, but is spread further by fleas.

Spottedleaf and Featherwhisker are working themselves to the bone to care for every sick cat

Spottedleaf is taking every waking moment to beg for help from StarClan. They're not totally useless and do manage to get her some good pointers

And then, while tending to Leopardfoot, Featherwhisker gets Anime Blood Cough Disease or whatever I make the symptom LMAO

Tigerclaw loses his mom and Spotty loses her mentor

When she tries to invoke him, StarClan does not send him down.

So... she channels him instead. And he pops up.

StarClan sent him to the Dark Forest even after he died tending to a patient, for his constant disregard of the code and siring a child with a kittypet while on the vow (Frostfur)

That Shakes Her Up A Bit

The final scene, I can see it perfectly in my head:

Tigerclaw finds Spotty while she's still stumbling around, dazed by her revelation, reconsidering everything she's ever thought about morality, StarClan, and the meaning of life. He's furious out of pain and basically trying to provoke her by asking if her path of the Cleric was all worth it

She couldn't save his mom and she couldn't save her mentor, or any of the like 1/4th of ThunderClan that died

And she hears this and like, this Fool. This Stupid Man. He doesn't even know the half of it.

So she starts laughing, because she's Spotty. Shaking her head, returning to her old self, gets her paw on his big ass shoulder (she has to reach up he's so tall)

Paraphrased:

"Nothing matters! Even the things we can change are nothing in the long run! Everyone will forget our names someday and you can be the best clanmate in the world or die trying, we all get buried in the same dirt! My claws can keep us here a little longer but yours can't dig us up and all that matters is what *I* KEEP PEOPLE JUST A LITTLE LONGER AND NO STARS OR WARRIORS WILL TAKE THOSE MOMENTS FROM ME"

Claws dug into his fur Tigerclaw is a bit speechless. Same Old Spotty. "...i apologize, my friend. I was... crass."

Spotty: "s'allright. Im sorry about your mom. Wanna get lunch?"

And that's what I've got so far. I want to keep its ending a bit raw and abrupt, because it's got this budding vibe that Spottedleaf's story is about the life she lived and the moments she's collected within it. Something about the absurdity of it all, how 'wasted' effort isn't totally wasted, and the beauty within just having a person for a little bit longer.

[juls-pools]

Mina and her relationship with other girls in Twice

Hi again! This is a part four of my series of reading about relationship between Twice girls and today's post about Mina. Let's get it start it :)

Disclaimer: it's just for funzies. Don't take it seriously. And never ever make your life choices based on readings. Also I am asking a permission to do readings before even start them in the first place.

Mina x Nayeon

A card: eight of swords

Oh, Mina feels helpless around Nayeon. I would even say defeated at this moment. She might feels trapped in this relationship. Also it might be an indicator of codependency. And as Nayeon is viewing Mina as an Emperor, that might mean two things. Either Mina feels trapped because she needs to play this kind of authority role around Nayeon and she's seek of it. Or Mina sees Nayeon as a victim in their relationship. But both this things meaning that Mina is unhappy. She feels tired of this relationship and near Nayeon.

Mina x Jeongyeon

A card: five of wands

It's a fun bond for Mina. Jeongyeon excites her, makes her work harder on herself and achive her dreams. Their relationship is full of energy, jokes and competition. They might like to hang out and do some physical activities together, like gym ratting for example ahhaha Or they might like to dance together or have an intellectual battles. Overall it's fun and exciting bond for Mina. She might feels a little intimidated from time to time near Jeongyeon but still I think their relationship is more on the healthy, bright and fun side for her.

Mina x Momo

A card: ten of cups

Intresting. So when Momo is thinking about ending things with Mina (you can read about what Momo thinks about Mina here), Mina is feeling the happiest around Momo. Mina feels like at home near her. It's a beautiful bond full of hope and emotions (wich is really rear for Mina as you gonna see later) but also what I could sense in their case, it's full of nostalgia. They might be super close in the past and Mina is feeling this kind of deep emotions more because of the past and not the present. But regardless of this Mina feels the happiest around Momo, like for her they are sisters and family. They might like to hang out and drink together or just go at the parties but at the same time they might like to go to each other homes in Japan and I feel like their families is quite close to each other. It's super sweet and even romantic card, Mina feels deeply devoted and almost dreamy and hopeful in this relationship.

Mina x Sana

A card: queen of swords

Intresting pt. 2 lmao So Mina views Sana as her psychologist (lol?) Anyway she sees her as someone who is extremly mature, reliable and at the same time cold and emotionally detached. That's not so much emotions between them. I kind of feeling the vibe of friend who tells you the truth about you even if you want to hear the sweetest lie. Mina might feels intimidated and uncomfortable near Sana, but I guess she might respects her for her advices and cold mind in hectic situations. They defenetly not close but I think Mina might likes to vent about something near Sana. But it doesn't mean that Sana in return not gonna tell her to shut up and stop pitty herself and do something lol They might be super blant and honest with each other and that's a rare quility in this world rn

Mina x Jihyo

A card: five of swords

Another reading, another beefing in Twice world lol They hate each other. That's 100% clear. They might be in an argument right now or it's just their permanent hate for each other (well I should see what Jihyo thinks about her, but anyway Mina feels hate around Jihyo) It's a cruel, evil energy. They don't understand each other and can hurt e\o pretty badly. Mina can express her anger and disopointment openly and argue with Jihyo with all of her fierce and anger. I can see them having heavy conversations and what's intresting in this situation, it's always about the open battle when you both fighting against each other pretty openly. It's not about mind games and some gossips behind close doors, no, it's a negative straight force that hit you like a train. Heavy, dark energy full of pain.

Mina x Dahyun

A card: page of swords

Another one of more on the negative side. Damn, I get it now why she is so quite in all of the interviews lmao Mina sees Dahyun as an immature, too ambitious and noisy gremlin lmao They might be in beef or had fights in the past. That's not a relationship full of trust or understanding, no, they don't get each other and just argue. Mina feels disrespect and so much unnecessary motions from Dahyun. She sees Dahyun as a troublemaker, narciss and someone who likes to get on nerves of others. Mina might respect Dahyun for her bluntness and honesty, for knowing what she wants and desires and how to get it but most of the time it's a relationship that you can describe as 'pain in the ass'. Mina might like to have an intellectual battles with her but they can get pretty heated and angry (it's not a fun energy like she has with Jeongyeon for example)

Mina x Chaeyoung

A card: six of swords

Intresting pt. 3. Were they on/off from each other recently? Because that card can indicate a reunion after a long separation. They might be distant in physical sense but also in mental too. Something is going on between them and Mina feels uncertain about this relationship. She might ask herself 'should I trust her again'? It's giving off some sort of vibe of unclearity, their relationship is always moving and changing. It's not the heaviest energy, but it maybe something unpleasent and uncomfortable. I think they should talk it all out and set some boundries. Chae might be too "windy" for Mina, she's all over the place, their dynamic not boring and stagnant that's for sure, they might like to get all deep and philosophycal in their conversation, but at the same time this bond is unstable. And Mina might feels scared and even violent near Chae, feeling this curtain distance between them all the time.

Mina x Tzuyu

A card: page of wands

Aw, they are good friends. Mina sees Tzuyu as someone young, light and passionate. It's a cute and full of energy bond. Tzuyu might be someone determined and stubborn, but in the most precious and light kind of way for Mina. They might have many common interests or hobbies, they like to travel and study something new together. They both might have the same values and passions in life. In the negative sides Tzuyu might be too childish and impatient for Mina's taste. But overall I feel that they are happy together. They might have the same sense of humour and just get each other pretty well (two the biggest introverts of the group defenetly can get each other pretty well lol)

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

So Sana and Jihyo didn't want to talk about their relationship with their bandmates. At least for now. So I will return to them later and try again. So that's why I jump on to Mina after Momo lol. What can I say about Mina? She's too rational, too in her head, almost all of her cards are swords, that indicate her cold mind and demenour. Also it's intresting that there are none of Major arcanes, what's make me think that for her there no one who can she trust and think deeply about, at least for now.

[santae-salt]

OG accessibility anon again for a completely different salt salt and then I'll get out of your hair.

People whining about there being events aka things to do is bonkers to me. You don't have to do them. If you're worried about missing out on rewards then buy them from people who don't want them.

Money is so easy to farm and that's coming from me.

The "disabled whiner", as I've so lovingly been called.

As I said prior, I've played almost all the heavy hitters since 2000, and the reason I like Santae is that there are actually things to DO.

In fact I wish there was more to do! My sister badly wants more games to play for instance! Like Black Jack or Snake or Tile Match! Heck you can even reuse assets for the last one just slap items tiles and there you go.

If you hate having a developer provide things to do on a browser game so badly, go back to Flight Rising.

There you can click a button on a static image ten times and you're done for the day and you'll never have to worry about Stormlight ever giving you anything immersive or fun to do ever! Just your speed! :3

Sorry for being so mean, but holy crap... I think some of you are so desperate to find things to be weirdly hostile about just for the sake of it when there are far more legitimate things to be blowing whistles on.

Like the AI art that the staff seems to pretend to not see the salt about...

There's these things called positive and negative reinforcement, and Criticism Oversaturation. It is a scientific fact that if all you do is get shitty and confrontational about every little thing it makes it psychologically impossible for the recipient of the criticism to be able to take valid criticism seriously.

Some of you need to learn the meaning of the phrase, "Pick your battles."

Am I saying kiss CJ and the others asses? Hell no!

But if you keep making mountains out of mole hills, then you are going to get less transparency, less willingness to take valid feedback, and eventually a complete severance of staff - community communication.

That's how this works.

Keep yelling about the ai, artist pay, accessibility, loot boxes, pet release cadence, and staff behavior.

Shut up about staff doing their damn jobs.

Exhale. Love you guys. Please be wise. xoxo

☁️

[killuwumi]

Gepard HCS/blurbs

a/n: gepard is so special 2 me....fr.... im back at it with mindless dribble!!!!!!!!!

warnings: shy gepard, lowercase, not proofread, female reader implied, mentions of having a family. (i think that’s all of them lmk if i missed any)

gepard is a really clumsy lover, like, stumbles on his words and isn't always so sure of his actions. i think he has a very cute and clumsy side, but also a serious and strict side. he does not let you talk bad about yourself, but he will talk with you if you feel like you have areas you want to improve in. he is honest, has never lied to you, other than maybe one or two white lies, he doesn't want you to worry. with his job being so time consuming he always finds creative ways for you to hang out. you'll play hide and seek on patrol with him if you're able to convince him, or maybe you spend time practicing your stealth, always trying to get the jump on him while he is patrolling, it helps both of you. but when he is on guard he prefers you don't disturb him. gepard doesn't want anyone hurting you, thinking you are an intruder or monster. lunch breaks are a must with him, you have daily meet up spots depending on what his task is, and since the fragmentum as calmed down he has the chance to take a lot more lunch breaks with you. before he would just skip them and eat small snacks. but now he will get huffy if he doesn't get to see you at least once during the day. whether you fight, or you just work around belobog, he wants to see you. once a day. just once please, he will lose his sweet mind.

he constantly randomly calls you beautiful, stunning, gorgeous. even if you just got done sweating your ass off at work/battles/training. he sometimes doesn't even realize he has let such a statement slip until you return the compliment or thank him. gepard really just can't help but be honest with you, he wants to make you happy. gepard wants to be the one that makes you feel self assured and content. he wants a strong confident partner so he knows that when he is away, or you are, that you feel loved and safe. even when he can't protect you. which he hates by the way, he loves when you are in belobog because he knows you are under his watchful eye, and his undying protection. for you and all the citizens, but especially you.

gepard wants a family, a happy small family. he has a long line of military and brilliant ancestors, and he just feels like you would be perfect to settle down with and carry on that legacy. he wants SO badly for you to take his last name, oh his big heart would melt knowing you carry that name with pride, and it would feel so claiming and validating for him. everyone could stop hitting on you and know that there is a strong man by your side. he knows you can handle anything yourself, but that has never stopped him from being protective, he doesn't view it as his job or responsibility. just something inside him wants to be the one to protect you from others predatory gazes, and all too friendly hands. having his last name holds status too, and he really desperately wants to hear you refer to him as your husband, hubby, whatever you want in that regard. and he'll wear his ring every day, he'll never take it off. it doesn't matter how many battles he enters, he will have his ring until it rots off his finger, and even then it will be there.

he tells his sister everything, even though she has unorthodox methods, and strange ideals in his mind, she is still his sister and even better, a great source for getting the scoop on you. serval was so helpful in the two of you getting together, while gepard had been upfront about his feelings with you, awkwardly asking you on a date with big flowers hiding his blush, he worked so hard to grow those and you didn't even know until serval told you. anyway, gepard was upfront with his feelings after only the few times you had hung out, and that's because every time he went running to his sister and gushed about you for hours, and serval finally told him that he definitely has a crush, more than that even.

so easily flustered, it doesn't matter how long you two are together, even after years you can catch that same blush on his face. it is less red now, but it's still there, he still talks about how amazed he is that you are with him, and how much he appreciates you. but when you gush about him he gets all flustered, hiding his face and thanking you every second. the truth is he replays these moments in his head like a broken record, especially on days when he is away from you. even just the thought is enough to make him have to clear his throat to shake from his thoughts. everyone in belobog knows what he's thinking about when he has that blush on his face. he isn't huge into pda, but he loves to hold your hand. and if you like giving him kisses and hugs in public then he is in no position to deny you in his mind. he calls you his love, princess, dove. has a special soft spot for calling you his flower. doesn't do it often because he gets embarrassed and worried its cringe but you love it.

[scarabsinthestardust]

Better in the Morning // Ch. 15.1

MASTERLIST

CHAPTER WARNINGS: mentions of hospitalizations; injuries including but not limited to a broken leg, head trauma; medications; headaches; nosebleeds; nightmares; slight mentions of suicide/overdose; arguments; angst (but I promise there's some fluff, just bear with me!) Again, I am not a medical professional and have no formal medical training.

word count: 2600+

DANIEL'S POV

Sam stayed in the hospital for another week and a half after he woke up. He was out of the woods, but they wanted to monitor him in case there were any lasting effects of his head trauma. No matter how many times we were reassured that he would be okay, I couldn’t rid myself of the fear that I had when I thought I might lose him.

Our fight was still fresh in my mind, and I’d beat myself up over it and all the things I said to him for a long time. I don’t know if he remembered any of it, though. Granted, we didn’t have any time alone while surrounded by the Kiszka family at the hospital. But he didn’t seem angry at me. Not once did he show any signs of resentment towards me. That almost made me feel worse. He should’ve been angry. He should’ve been blaming me. But he held my hand and shared soft smiles with me, and it gave me some hope that everything would be alright.

He was finally discharged from the hospital and was more than ready to be out of there. His parents and sister had gotten a hotel to be close by, but made a point to not crowd him. I assumed Josh or Jake would want to stay with him, but when he asked me to, my heart swelled. He still wanted me there.

Sam was trying so hard to feel normal again, but it seemed like an uphill battle. He was frustrated about the difficulty he had moving around, wanting so badly to do things on his own and hating to ask for the help he desperately needed. I didn’t mind, of course. I wanted to take care of him, for as long as he’d let me.

He was struggling with brain fog and drowsiness, but he’d been assured that was normal during his recovery. He slept a lot and wasn’t eating as much as I would’ve liked; he was constantly nauseous as a result of the cocktail of meds he was on. He was resistant to the pills, refusing to take them until he couldn’t bear the physical pain anymore. I always offered them on the allowed schedule, though, just in case. The headaches were the worst. They were often accompanied by nosebleeds, and the pain he felt was so excruciating he could do nothing but lay down and cry. And I could do nothing but lay there and hold him.

He'd have nightmares about the accident sometimes. He’d wake up drenched in sweat and out of breath. At first, he never wanted to talk about them, but he eventually caved. He dreamt about what he remembered, which wasn’t much – the oncoming headlights, the smell of gasoline, and the feeling of dread in the pit of his stomach when he thought he might not make it out alive. I didn’t tell him I was having nightmares, too.

I couldn’t bring myself to ask, but I didn’t think he remembered calling me. On some nights after Sam was asleep, I’d listen to the voicemail again. I don’t know why I insisted on doing it to myself, but I couldn’t stop, much less make myself delete it. The message is fuzzy, broken apart by static and peppered with the pinging of whichever of the car’s warning notifications were going off. Some kind of hissing can be heard, like the sound of a busted hose, intermingled with Sam’s heavy breaths. His voice follows, cracked and fearful. He coughs in between words, and it’s clear that it’s getting harder and harder to breathe.

Hey, Danny boy. I think… I messed up a little… I don’t know what’s… gonna happen. So just know… I’m not mad anymore. I’m scared, Daniel, I’m really scared. I wish I was home with you, sn- snuggled up watching some dumb movie. I love you. I love you. I love you so fucking much, since forever, for always. I love you. Don’t forget about me. Take care of Rose, take care of everyone. Promise…

I think he lost consciousness then. His voice trailed off and all I could hear was static and the incessant dinging. Hearing his voice like that, imagining how terrified he must have been, made my heart feel like it was being ripped into a thousand little pieces. It made me want to vomit. But still, I couldn’t stop listening to it.

He sat on the floor of the living room, leaned against the front of the couch. It was a mystery to me why he kept doing it, as getting back up with a broken leg and a sprained hand was difficult to say the least. But no matter how comfortable I tried to make the couch for him, he always ended up moving himself down to the floor. “Don’t like the altitude,” he joked.

I tried to remind him when he asked me to hand him a guitar that his hand needed time to heal. He would have none of it. But when he tried to play, everything started barreling downhill again. First, he couldn’t get comfortable, and the joints in his hand complained with every movement. Next came the fumbling when switching strings or frets, and the frequent dead notes that reached my ears. He cursed and muttered under his breath but refused to stop trying. He swapped the acoustic for his seafoam bass; maybe he thought it’d be more reliable. He started strumming the first few notes of ‘Caravel,’ then abruptly stopped. He furrowed his brows and tried again with the same result. After a few more attempts, he squeezed his eyes shut and groaned loudly, bowing his head over the instrument, his messy hair hiding his face. “Fuck!”

“Sam? Is it your head? Maybe you should take a break-“

“I can’t remember,” he said, his voice cracking. He looked up at me, his eyes filling with tears. “I can’t remember how to play.”

Fuck. A million and one thoughts raced through my head. What would that mean for Sam? Would he have to relearn everything? Would he even try? And what would that mean for the band? I couldn’t imagine continuing it without him, and I knew his brothers wouldn’t just replace him. But even though it crossed my mind, Greta wasn’t my first priority. Greta Van Fleet didn’t matter without Sam in it. I worried that he wouldn’t be able to cope if he couldn’t play; he worked so hard to get as far as he did. He gave up college and astronomy to play music. If he couldn’t play… what happens next?

I tried to comfort him as he cried and as he hyperventilated through a panic attack. Rose nudged him, laying her head in his lap. I held him as close to me as I physically could and smoothed down his hair. “Sammy, baby, it’ll be okay. You’re still healing from a traumatic brain injury, and I’m sure all the meds are making you feel a little off. There’s probably a lot you won’t be able to do right away, but you’ll get there. You need time to heal, so focus on that for now, and let the music come after.”

“What if it doesn’t come?”

“Then we’ll figure it out. But it will, and you’ll be back to feeling like yourself again before you know it.”

He cried so much that night, which triggered another headache. After some convincing, he took a dose of pain pills. Right before he fell asleep, he mumbled something, so low that it was almost inaudible. But I heard him. “Will you still love me if I’m broken forever?”

My breath caught in my throat and my eyes filled to the brim with tears. I tightened my arms around him as much as I could without hurting him. “I’ll always love you, Sammy. No matter what. I promise.” He didn’t say anything else, and when I heard a light snore, I knew he was asleep.

~

Sam’s slow, clumsy movements as he tried to get up out of bed woke me up. “You okay?”

“Gotta pee.”

I started to sit up and rubbed my eyes. “Here, let me help-“

“No,” he cut me off. “I can do it on my own, I need to.” I could hear the plea in his voice to let him try. He needed to feel some semblance of independence where he could get it.

I nodded and laid back down, watching him closely for any sign he might fall as he grabbed the crutches and hoisted himself up. I relaxed when he made it to the bathroom okay, although I listened out in case he needed any help. I heard the toilet flush, but while waiting for him to finish up, I must have fallen back asleep. I don’t know how long I was out before I woke back up. The room was still dark, but Sam wasn’t in bed, and everything was quiet. I could see light seeping from under the bathroom door, and Rose lying in front of it. “Sammy, you okay?” My heart started pounding with anxiety when he didn’t answer. I slowly pushed the door open and called his name again. It felt like a punch in the gut when I saw him on the floor, eyes closed, leaned up against the bathtub.

I rushed to him, probably bruising my own knees as I hit the cold tile and placed my hands on his cheeks. “Sam? What happened? Are you hurt?”

His eyes fluttered open and he smiled. “I’m okay, Danny boy. Just tired.”

A sense of relief washed over me, and I adjusted myself to sit with him, just until he was ready to go back to bed. But the relief was quickly replaced with dread when my knee touched something on the ground. An empty pill bottle. I snatched it up, now noticing a second one. “Sam, what the fuck… please tell me you didn’t.” He was slow to respond; my blood ran cold, and my breathing quickened. “Sam?! Fuck!” Call 911. I scrambled off the floor and rushed back to the bedroom to find my phone. I grabbed it off the charger but fumbled and dropped it. Sam called my name as I finally had it back in my hand and was running back to him. My hands shook as I started to dial the numbers, and he called my name again.

“Daniel, it’s okay! I flushed ‘em.”

My movements halted and I stared at him for a moment, trying to register his words. “You… you didn’t take them?”

He shook his head. “I don’t wanna take ‘em anymore. They make my brain fuzzy and I don’t feel like me. So I flushed them.”

“Jesus, Sammy.” I scrubbed my hand over my face and lowered myself back to the floor. I willed my heart rate to even out. This was fixable; we could get refills for the pain meds. If he would even take them. I’m sure it seemed like a good idea to him in the moment, but he might regret it next time he got a severe migraine. I didn’t see the point in giving him shit about it at this point. It was already done and there wasn’t anything that could be done about it right now. “Do you want to go back to bed?”

“Not yet.” He leaned his head back carefully on the edge of the tub. “S’ cold. Feels nice.” We sat in silence for a while until he said, “I’m sorry.”

I thought he was apologizing for tonight, for making me think he overdosed. “It’s okay, you just scared me is all.”

“No. Well… that, too. But I meant for what happened before… before I left.”

It took me a second to realize what he was talking about, and I couldn’t hide my surprise when I did. “Oh. I didn’t know if you remembered that.” I kept my eyes trained on the ground as I thought about what I said to him that night, afraid of what I might find in his. If he remembered the fight, he might resent me for it.

“Are you still mad about it?”

“No,” I answered immediately.

“Would you be if all this shit didn’t happen?” He gestured to the cast on his leg. “It’s okay if you’re still mad at me. I deserve it.”

“No, you don’t, Sam. It was stupid and I acted like an asshole. I’m the one that overreacted-“

“Uh uh.” He lifted and shook his head. “I just wanted attention. And I was mad ‘cause I wanted it from you. I wasn’t flirting with that guy because I actually liked him or anything. I didn’t wanna hurt you, I just wanted to make you jealous.”

I stared at him in disbelief. I probably should have been pissed at his confession. Seeing him fawn over some tool at the bar and follow him around like a lovesick puppy had me livid. If all he wanted to do was make me jealous, it certainly worked. When I confronted him after the fact, it escalated into a full-blown screaming match. We both said so many awful things to each other that I know neither of us meant. But his honesty tonight was refreshing. So instead of being angry, I just laughed, earning a confused look from him.

“You know,” I started, “I love you, but you are such a fucking brat.”

It wasn’t long before he joined in, falling into a fit of giggles. “At least I’m your brat.”

Later on, once we were back in bed, snuggled up under the covers, he grabbed my hand that was wrapped around him and held it tightly to his chest. “Daniel?”

“Hm?” I fought to stay awake, tiredness threatening to take me under.

“I wanna tell them about us.”

I opened my eyes and stared towards him in the dark. We’d kept our relationship a secret for so long, and I couldn’t even remember why. I’m sure we had our reasons, but it all seemed so stupid now. A part of me sort of liked having it to myself, like what we had was just for us and wasn’t anyone else’s business. But the other part of me wanted to take this super important piece of my life and share it with the people closest to us. “Okay. Let’s do it.”

“Really?” He sounded genuinely surprised, as if he expected me to say no.

“I don’t want to hide it anymore.”

“Okay, good.” I could hear the smile in his voice. “Do you think they’re really gonna be surprised?”

“Nah. If I had to guess, they probably already know and made bets against each other.”

“Hmph. Fuckers,” he snorted.

I chuckled, and I was so happy that he seemed to be getting back to his old self already.

~

It took three more days before he was willing to pick up an instrument again. He was anxious to even try, but with the right amount of encouragement from me and his brothers, he was back in the saddle. It wasn’t perfect, as he was still working on getting full range of motion in his hand back, but it was promising. After successfully hitting most of the notes in ‘Caravel’ and a few others, he was beaming.

“I told you it would come back to you.”

I was wrong to assume that the twins would have any inkling of my relationship with their younger brother. With eyes wide and jaws dropped, they bombarded us with questions. They were mostly baffled how we had managed to keep it a secret for so long, and right under their noses. I did notice that Kya didn’t seem shocked in the slightest; Sam would tell me later that Kya probably knew before we did. When the initial shock wore off, we received nothing but happy sentiments.

“If there’s anyone I trust to take care of my baby brother, it’s you,” Josh said as he hugged me tightly, and I was so grateful to be lucky enough to be a part of this family.

TAGLIST Let me know if you want to be added!

@hollyco @fleetingjake @musicislove3389

[dozyarchive]

✦Blood and Prayers✦

Prompt: The first American to win a grand prix since 1978, nearly 46 years since Mario Andretti, Jason Redmond wins at COTA. He wins at a race that’s 8 minutes away from his home, 8 minutes away from the tree house he would have sleepovers in. And 8 minutes away from the place that his twin sister stays, after her dreams of being a Formula 1 driver were crushed because of a career ending accident. Jason Redmond wins for himself, and for his sister, June Redmond.

Driver!Character x Sister!Character

“Five laps left Jason, five laps left.”

“Where am I?”

“P2, 1 hundredth off of Verstappen.”

“Copy. Going dark, all in.”

“Copy, good hunting.”

---

“We’re seeing history in the making here at COTA, as rookie driver Jason Redmond is currently P2 in the Austin Grand Prix! The first American in about 30 years to be on the podium, Redmond has chased a win this entire season, and his first might just be a home race!”

“Mercedes has signed a monster, with Redmond being only a hundredth of a second off of Verstappen. With only five laps left of the race, can Jason close that gap?”

---

Deafening cheers, roaring engines. They sound the same after a few races. Blood rushing in your ears covers it all though. That’s what they don’t tell you, the way your body tunes everything out when you’re at the edge of that cliff.

And really, it’s the best thing that can happen, because with nothing to distract me, I’m the only one that gets to choose whether I crash and burn or soar.

I think there’s three laps left, and Max is right in front of me. I bet if my visor was up, he could probably see the whites of my eyes.

He would see how bad I want it. And I want it, more than he does. More than anyone. This is mine, this track, this race, this state. Max can have Miami, he can have Las Vegas. Texas, Austin, is mine.

---

“And Jason Redmond overtakes Max Verstappen at turn 15! As they enter the second to last lap of the race, it will be a battle to the end. Potentially the first American to win a Grand Prix since Mario Andretti himself in 1978, nearly 50 years ago!”

---

“When you take that last turn, you don’t break. Just keep it constant. Then, once you’re just past the apex, floor it. You take care of your tires better than anyone else on that track and you know it. They’ll stick, and that will give you more speed coming out and slingshot you through.”

“That could end badly.”

“It won’t. You know that track better than anyone else, know your car better than anyone else. COTA is your blood right.”

“No, it’s your blood right.”

“Not anymore, and we both know that. Jason, I knew that I was taking a gamble when I stepped into that car. I ended with a bad hand, but you’re a once in a century talent. I don’t care what the world says about Max Verstappen or Charles Leclerc, or even Oscar Piastri. You’re a Texan born and raised. This is yours. This track, this race, this whole goddamned state, is yours.”

---

They never tell you what it feels like to fight physics in an F1 car. But maybe that’s because nobody pushes that hard. Max knows his limits and his car’s limits. He’s good, a generational talent. He pushes beyond what normal people do in an F1 car. But he’s never met a Redmond.

My sister had a talent, for testing the limits, like he does. She would watch what her teammates and other drivers would do, and decided that wasn’t it. She pushed her car to the brink, would break every bone in her body and snap every bolt in a car to see how far she could go. She looked the impossible in the face and decided to make it possible.

---

“And we’re down to the last lap! Jason Redmond is still in the lead, and the gap is ever so slightly increasing as we progress. With only 10 turns left to go, he’s holding onto that lead position with all his might.”

“It feels like he’s barely letting off the gas, taking each turn with impressive speed and force.”

“It certainly looks like it. We’ve seen drivers stop at the last second for turns, but it doesn’t look like he’s even touching the break, just letting off the gas!”

---

I think my sister rubbed off on me. I started to copy her. Before, driving on the edge of that cliff and praying. It became just praying after.

I think now, she’s the one praying. I’m on that cliff, but I trust her. The tires will stick.

---

“We’re down to the last two turns, and Redmond is going full send through 19! Will he do the same for turn 20?”

“It looks like he’s keeping the speed the, no, he’s flooring it! Jason Redmond has gunned it through turn 20 and that has slung him through and down the last straight!”

---

“You did it Jason, you won!”

“P1 Jason, beautiful race! Your first win, and at home!”

“Jason Redmond, You are the Austin Grand Prix winner, and Driver of the Day!”

---

I know she’s crying right now. I know, because I am.

---

“Formula One welcomed Jason Redmond onto the grid for the 2025 season, following the departure of Logan Sargeant. He was the first American Driver on the podium since Michael Andretti in 1993, and he is the first American to win a grand prix since Mario Andretti in 1978. Redmond’s older sister June Redmond started the racing dream in the family, but he has continued it after an accident left her unable to race. Only 10 minutes away from his childhood home, Jason Redmond brings home the trophy and continues the American and Redmond legacy. Jason Redmond, you are the winner of the 2024 Austin Grand Prix!”

---

And as Jason stands on that top step, the American National Anthem playing, 120,000 voices scream. He can hear his team, his family, but most importantly, he can hear his sister.

Sitting in a wheelchair, staring up at her younger brother, June Redmond doesn’t pray, but she gives thanks.

Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoy! Please check out my Masterlist for any of my other works!

[crescentmoonlupin]

If you need help, I'm here to listen..

There are days that are easier than others. When you have depression, you tend to feel like the world is against you and it just feels like a constant battle that no matter how hard you fight, how much experience you have with it, it just never seems to be enough to throw at the problem. And of course, giving up is never ever an option cause once you do, the monster you are battling just gets bigger. Bigger to the point you just must live with the drooling, foaming beast.

I’ve had depression for a number of years, as of 2024, it’s been about 14 years since I was originally diagnosed, but about 17 since it first manifested itself within my mind. It's never been an easy beast to live with. I’ve tried destroying it by destroying myself. I held it down, but the bubbles never stopped coming up. I tried to drown it in sex, making it seem like the reason I was upset so much was because I was alone and needed the company to get me through, I cut myself so I could hold some sort of “control” over it but, of course that never works. Eventually it becomes an addiction that you don't realize you started, and it takes everything in you to stop. Years even.

To this day, I am still self-destructive. Some days, I wish I could still continue hurting myself, but I know its counterproductive, it’ll never solve anything. It just hurts everyone else who happens to catch it when the wounds are fresh. Cutting myself didn’t make me feel better in the sense I thought it would, it just gave me a false sense of control over something I didn’t have control over. The chemicals in my brain didn’t do what they were supposed to when they were supposed to, and I suffered the consequences.

I wanted to blame everyone else for my problems. My mother, my father, my stepparents. Sisters. Everyone who wasn’t me. “You made me do this!” I’d say, when really, I was the one who put the razor or knife to my skin and pulled. I made it count, I counted every mark, and it’s not a pretty number. Not only did I cut but I carved words into my skin, so I would remember why I did it in the first place. So many initials. Failure. Perfect. HIT ME! I’M NOTHING! Sorry :] Smile. And the list goes on from there. Now it’s just a bunch of scars.

I’m not ashamed of them, and I don’t really regret them, they’re part of me and it was what I thought I needed at the time, ultimately, I was wrong in the end, but teenagers never listen, do they?

I do wish I could go back though, and just talk to myself. Tell myself it does, eventually, gets better. That things do start going right, years down the road. That it’s not worth it to be so angry all the time, and to learn to love myself sooner so I didn’t have t struggle as badly as I am now at almost 30, because yes, we do make it past the age of 18, as surprising as that is for me to even believe to this day. Eventually we meet a man who loves us in his own special way, and we have the most beautiful son to raise together. And he loves that little boy as if he was made from his own blood. He reads him bedtime stories and helps him learn to walk. He teaches him to ride a bike and plays in his sandbox with him, the one he made him for his second birthday.

Things do get better, but you have to fall down so you can get back up, so you can grow up the way you need to, because it is necessary. Because as soon as you heard that little boy’s heartbeat for the first time, you know, you just knew, that everything was going to change and you knew that you would do anything for him, even if it meant changing everything so he could grow up better than you did. So, he can go farther than you ever got. So, you can make sure he is actually stable and doesn’t have to recover from his childhood. Make sure he is okay and knows he is heard.

I just hope I’m doing the right things when it comes to that little boy because I don’t know where I’d be or who I would be without him. There’re days where I struggle and all I want to do is to curl up into a ball and cry till I fall asleep. But I have this little boy watching me every day and I just have to keep going to make sure he has everything he needs to grow into a respectable human and a caring man. Fight for what’s right but know when to step back as well.