#it's not 100% accurate but you can all blame yourself

[moonandstarshyuck]

"Always."

lando norris x gn!bf!reader

notes: I haven’t written since 2019, so bear with me. I’ve found myself thinking about a little blurb for Lando recently (actually a lot of ideas, but this one is sticking with me more than the others at the moment).

For some context, Lando’s been receiving a huge amount of hate online (and in-person) recently. I haven’t been a fan for that long—I got into F1 this summer, in 2024—but I’ve grown to care about him. I was there for Lando losing the championship, and while I think we all knew it would come to this (Max winning felt inevitable) but I’m proud of Lando for pushing so hard this entire year.

Still, with all the hate directed at him, I’m seeing a new side of him, and I’m learning that he’s a person with feelings like anyone else. I can tell he doesn’t always have the highest opinion of himself and tends to take the blame for anything that goes wrong during his races. What struck me about this is how much I relate to it. I blame myself for things out of my control or when I mess up. What sucks with Lando is that his small, human errors are what so many people focus on to criticize him—whether it’s why he didn’t win the championship or why they think he’s a bad person (which he absolutely isn’t).

The inspiration for this came from an interview he did after the Brazilian GP. At that point, everyone knew it was almost mathematically impossible for Lando to win the championship, and he talked about struggling in the aftermath: “I literally couldn’t sleep for the first two days…So I did like, what, 36-40 hours straight. So that probably made everything worse. When you’re tired, you’re more moody, and that kind of thing…I was just sat at home alone. It probably would have been better if I had been with my friends. But they don’t live in Monaco. They also have lives and are busy doing other things. And I’m a big overthinker, so like the whole flight home, the whole week, it just played over and over in my head. What could I have done differently? Why did I do that? Why did I not do this? You start thinking of all the scenarios that you kind of blame yourself for, why it’s now not possible, that kind of thing. And yeah, because I overthink and I struggle with that kind of thing, that took a bigger toll in the days after. It wasn’t an easy time.”

And I keep on finding myself wishing someone could have been there for him in person, so that he was okay. So, I wrote this. The reader in this is dating Lando but is written as a gender-neutral character that uses They/Them pronouns. The reader also has a service dog, a Bernese Mountain Dog named Thunder, to help with their own depression and anxiety (I’m not an expert on service dogs, so this many not be 100% accurate).

They woke up that early morning to the sunlight shining on their face, streaming in from the window outside. The bliss of sleep clung to them as they lay there, cocooned in warmth, the covers snug around their body. They stretched lazily, blinking their eyes open.

Instinctively, they turned to look beside them—only to find the space next to them empty. It’s too early in the morning to be anywhere else but in bed, even for training, they thought. Lando should still be here.

The realization pulled them out of their sleepy haze. The past couple of days had been not kind to Lando. They knew that he had a tendency to keep his feelings bottled up and beat himself up over his perceived failures. They understood that feeling all too well—the guilt, the constant sense of disappointment, the nagging thought that were never good enough. They had wrestled with those feelings since they were a child.

It wasn’t something that had an easy fix. If they had found the answer, they would have shared it with Lando years ago. But they had learned that the best way to fight those thoughts wasn’t isolation. Talking to someone, writing feelings down, even simple positive affirmations—thought they might sound silly—could help push back against the negative spiral. They had told Lando this countless times.

But Lando had a problem with not wanting to “inconvenience” anyone with his emotions. No matter how many times they reassured him that they were always there for him, he struggled to let himself. They didn’t blame him—it was human to struggle against your own mind.

What made everything worse was the constant online hate. Every little mistake or sarcastic comment from Lando seemed to turn into an avalanche of criticism. They remembered the first time they’d seen him like a hateful comment about himself on Instagram—the little heart next to a cruel statement, paired with note: “Creator liked this.” It had broken their heart. How could the Lando they loved ever believe such awful things about himself?

After Brazil, it had been clear that he wasn’t okay. He’d barely spoken since coming home, choosing instead to himself. They had given him space, hoping he’d find a way to process his feelings. But by the second morning, when he still hadn’t come to bed—almost forty hours after returning home—they knew they couldn’t stand by any longer.

That morning, they rose slowly from the bed, a plan beginning to form in their mind. Lanod needed someone to step in—someone to remind him he didn’t have to face his struggles alone. They were determined to be that person for him.  They couldn’t take it anymore, seeing the person they loved so badly, punishing himself over his ‘failures.’

The first step was to confirm where he was. Grabbing their phone, they opened Twitch and navigated to Max’s stream. After a few moments of watching, they heard Lando’s voice—tired, strained, but unmistakably his. He was joking with Max, his words clipped, like he was holding himself together with sheer willpower. It was enough to break their heart. They opened their messages with Max.

Thunder's Owner

Lan’s streaming with you rn?

Sent at 7:48 AM.

After a few seconds, Max replied.

Maximilian

Yeah he’s on voice-only.

Sent at 7:50 AM.

Gonna do something about him?

Sent at 7:50 AM.

Max knew. Of course he did. He probably heard the exhaustion in Lando’s voice, the edge self-loathing that came with overthinking. They typed back quickly:

Thunder's Owner

Yeah

Sent 7:52 AM.

Going to unplug his setup and drag him out of there.

Sent 7:52 AM.

Maximilian

Lol.

Sent 7:52 AM.

I’ll keep an eye out for when he disappears.

Sent 7:53 AM.

Thunder's Owner

Thx

Sent 7:54 AM.

They quietly made their way to Lando’s gaming room and eased the door open. Lando sat at his desk, controller in hand, headset clamped over messy curls.  He looked worn down, his shoulders slumped as he focused on the screen. His voice through, muted put playful, as he bantered with Max.

For a moment, they just watched him. Even now, he was handsome, but the tiredness in his expression made their chest ache. He deserved rest. He deserved to feel okay. And he wasn’t going to get that by sitting here punishing himself.

As soon as Lando died in-game and leaned back in his chair, they seized the opportunity. They crossed the room, catching his attention when they came into view.

“Why’re you—” Lando began, frowning, but they didn’t let him finish. Reaching down, they unplugged everything from the wall.

“What the hell—” he exclaimed, spinning around in his chair.

“No,” they said firmly, cutting him off. “I’m not you hurt yourself anymore. Get up.”

Lando blinked, clearly taken aback. “You can’t just do that!” he protested, but they were already tugging gently at him arm, urging him out of his chair.

“Angel, what are you—”

“No,” they repeated, their voice steady. “Get up,”

Lando hesitated for a moment before letting out a resigned sigh and standing. They took his hand, leading him out of the gaming room and down the hall to the living room. He didn’t resist, but he followed like a man in a daze. Once they reached the couch, they turned to him. “Sit,” they said, pointing at the cushions. Lando raised an eyebrow, opening his mouth to argue, but they shook their head. “Stay.”

They turned to Thunder, who had been waiting for them in the hallway, and told him, “Thunder, guard,” while pointing at Lando.

The dog immediately moved into position, standing alert in front of the couch. Lando’s eyes widened slightly as Thunder fixed him with an unblinking stare. He shifted as if to get up, but Thunder’s stance didn’t waver.

“Jeez, I wasn’t going to get up,” he mumbled to Thunder, but Thunder just sat there and watched him until he fully relaxed back into the couch.

The thought ran through Lando’s head, how he had honestly forgotten how menacing his own dog could look. He knew Thunder was trained, saw reminders of it daily with how he interacted with his partner, but he was still shocked at how trained Thunder really was at that moment.

Thunder was still staring at him when he pulled out his phone from his pocket, opening up his texts with Max.

LN

I was just dragged out of my gaming room and told to sit on the couch and like a dog.

Sent at 8:05 AM.

Not against it, but how tf did they get so determined?

Sent at 8:05 AM.

Thunder’s watching me right now.

Sent at 8:06 AM.

I forgot how menacing he could be.

Sent at 8:06 AM.

*Picture attached.*

Lol.

Sent at 8:06 AM.

Max (The 1st One)

He’s like ‘try me, I dare you’

Sent at 8:06 AM.

LN

Yeah, I don’t particularly want to try him

Sent at 8:07 AM.

Max (The 1st One)

Lol.

Sent at 8:07 AM.

They told me before they did it

Sent at 8:07 AM.

I just let them. Lol.

Sent at 8:07 AM.

LN

Helpful. What if they were trying to  kill me?

Sent at 8:08 AM.

They wouldn’t have had to if you kept doing what you were doing.

Sent at 8:09 AM.

Lando’s let out a quiet sigh, Max’s words sinking in. He glanced at Thunder, who hadn’t moved, and felt a pang of guilt. He’d pushed himself too far again, and this time it had clearly worried his partner.

A few minutes later, his partner walked back into their living room. He thought they looked beautiful, wearing one of his old t-shirts and a pair of boxers. They were entirely focused on the bowl they were carrying, and only looked up when they got close enough to hand it to him. He gently took the bowl, looked into it and saw it was one of his prep meals. While not his favorite breakfast, he knew he just needed to eat first, so he started taking bites.

He glanced up every so often, and each time he did, his partner was just sitting there and watching him eat. Lando almost chuckled at his own thought that they looked just like Thunder when watching him, and he smiled into his bowl at the thought. His partner didn’t see his smile, but he continued to eat until he had finished the bowl.

When he was done eating, he set the bowl down, and his partner again pulled him up by the crook of his arm. He just let them do so, having a thought of what was going to happen next.

His partner led them both down the hallway to their bedroom, and opened the door, leading him to sit on their bed, then they turned around and went to close their blinds and draw their black-out curtains to cover up the sunlight from the window. They had turned on their bedside lamp earlier, and the soft orange glow of the lamp permeated the room. They walked past him again, going to close the door after letting Thunder in, then they walked back to their side of the bed, and pulled him to lie down against them.

As he settled against their chest, he felt a bit odd, it being a bit of a difference to feel how much he was loved by them. How much they cared for him. And he finally spoke again, “Thank you.”

“Always, Lan. Always.” They replied, pressing a kiss to his hair.

And for the first time in days, he let himself sleep.

author's note: got inspired to actually write something for once...ty @koalapastries for the inspiration (unknowing inspiration but ty) (also sorry for using your layout outline

comments & reblogs appreciated

and i made the dividers :)

[bblovetarot]

{༉} What is your soul craving?

ʚ ═══･୨ꕤ୧･═══ ɞ Pick a Pile ʚ ═══･୨ꕤ୧･═══ ɞ 

. ༄ . paid readings . ༄

。°⚠︎°。follow your intuition when choosing a pile. if you're drawn to more than one pile, that's okay! you may have messages in more than one.

。°⚠︎°。tarot readings are not 100% accurate, and do not dictate your future. please keep in mind that you have free will. these readings are also general and aren't specific to one person, so please take what resonates and leave what doesn't! 

Pile 1

Pile 1, your soul is urging you to stop blocking your own path. There's a message echoing to "do the right thing," and this could mean various things for everyone. It suggests a need to ease up on self-criticism and avoid placing blame externally. Taking accountability for your actions is crucial, recognizing that every choice has consequences, whether positive or negative. Your soul craves for you to take a leap of faith, listen to the deep call within your heart, and follow your intuition when making decisions. It seeks novelty and growth, urging you to break free from repetitive cycles by making conscious choices. Look at yourself objectively and understand that while past hurtful events may not be your fault, you do have the power of free will. Reflect on where your free will comes into play in your life and how you can avoid situations that leave you feeling wronged. Your soul sees these experiences as lessons, prompting you to learn from them and apply those lessons to start a new beginning. Embrace change, let go of the old, and welcome the new. Now is the time to align with your true path, one that excites and possibly scares you—a path leading to genuine happiness. Start doing what makes you happy, whether it's learning something new or pursuing a business idea. The path to your true calling is already laid out; all you need to do is accept the call, Pile 1.

Pile 2

Pile 2, it seems that many of you are undergoing a spiritual awakening, but there's resistance to embracing the new path that's calling you. Your soul is urging you to surrender to this transformative process, releasing old belief systems that no longer serve you. This period is a rebirth for you, and while it can be intimidating, your soul is encouraging you to flow with it rather than resist. Fear of the unknown may be holding you back, unsure if you're ready for what's to come. However, your soul is asking you to let go, to allow the universe to guide you through this transition. Surrender control and trust the process, Pile 2. For many of you, overthinking and wanting to predict outcomes can be a common tendency. Your soul is calling for a more relaxed approach and a return to the joy of your inner child. Life doesn't always require serious contemplation; sometimes, you just need to live. Your soul is craving for more fun and playfulness. It wants you to listen to its subtle whispers, guiding you to the path that's right for you. Don't take life too seriously; let go of the need to know every outcome in advance. As changes occur and things leave your life, your soul advises you not to get too caught up in the departing elements. Take them for what they are and embrace the new opportunities that are emerging. Transformation can be scary because it's uncertain, but just like a little bird learning to fly, it might be scary at first, but it leads to growth and freedom. Embrace the new, Pile 2.

Pile 3

Pile 3, your soul is urging you to surround yourself with things, people, and situations that align with your true happiness. It seems like you may be caught in a routine, and the joy in life has diminished for some of you. Perhaps something you've longed for has arrived, but its unfolding isn't bringing the happiness you expected. Some of you might be feeling frustrated with the slow progress, even though there is movement, albeit at a pace slower than desired. You appear to be someone deeply committed to your pursuits, taking a steady rather than rushed approach. Your soul encourages you to stay true to yourself and not let others dictate your actions or methods. What matters is what you believe and envision for yourself. Many of you are dedicated to something significant, and your soul is advising you to clear out anything that doesn't belong in your life right now—habits or people that don't align with your path. It's crucial to eliminate anything that drains you emotionally and doesn't bring motivation, inspiration, or happiness into your life. Your soul wants you to protect yourself and reclaim your energy from past situations that may have left scars. If you're dealing with complex post-traumatic stress disorder (CPTSD) or flashbacks from the past, there's a need to prioritize healing. Don't let the past dictate your future. Your soul is also emphasizing the importance of connecting with others. Stop isolating yourself and reach out to new people or those already in your life who resonate with you. Enjoy the small things in life, and don't let the past repeat itself. The universe is supporting you, bringing you to people who are part of your soul tribe. Take that first step, whether big or small, and trust that the universe has your back, Pile 3.

[kurosstuff]

Hello, how are you doing? :)

Since requesrts are open and your writing is marvelous, I wanted to request an Azula x gn reader oneshot/fic where reader is a childhood friend who grew distant to Azula over time, but is now chosen to be her fiancé in an arranged marriage.

You don't have to write it, but I still hope you likr the idea!

Have a great day ^^

Hi! I'm doing better at least! Thank you so much♡ It means so much to me to hear you like my writing!

I'd like to apologize for not writing this sooner- was taking a break with long fics- and idk how accurate azula is still- haven't watched fhe show in so long-! Also hope I got Ozai ok? Never wrote anything with him in it before I don't think

-

I got carried away♡.. this came out as more of a reconnection type thing? Eh- maybe that's good?

Summary: read ask♡

Warnings(?): azula being azula, reader freaks out/panics alot, ozai, soft(?) Azula(she's like kinda nice sometimes); slight angst. Misunderstanding(but not really), friends to strangers to lovers(?), both reader AND azula are oblivious on how they really feel,

Azula x G/N reader: arranged

Being azulas friend had its ups and downs

Mostly downs

"Oh, come on, Y/N. Don't such a kid, " Azula grumbled, trying to get you to stay still. She read a trick where if someone still stays, a firebender can hit the target above the person's head without any injury. In a book for children for whatever reason. "I'd never hurt you," which is partly true - Azula wouldn't hurt you on purpose, or she would - you weren't actually sure

But like time- friendships come and go.

As you grew older, you saw how awful of a person Azula was turning out to be. How cruel of a person she truly was - how little care she had for another being - even her own brother. Seeing how she was amused and not concerned for her brother during the Agni Kai- you decided enough was enough.

This 'friendship' was becoming too dangerous too frightening. You were aware you can't just up and end the friendship you decided to distance yourself from her. Feeling confident, she wouldn't notice the change

-

You weren't sure if she ever noticed- if by chance she did. She never said or gave the indication she knew. After a couple of months, you stopped coming around to hang out.

You felt bad, but you believed this was for the best.

It's been almost a three full year when you received the letter. One you'd overlook if it weren't for the very specific golden charm closing the envelope showing it was from the royal family. Usually, being given this letter is either an honor or.. something much worse. Swallowing down your nerves, you sat down staring at the envelope for almost an eternity. Opening it carefully, you begain to read.

Everything seemed normal in the letter besides the fact you are to be summoned to the Fire Lord himself for something. Totally normal. Not like your gonna die or anything. Be shipped off to war maybe? You'd 100% are not worried.

Nope.

-

Rushing to get ready, you practically jumped in the air in Fright when you heard the knocking on the door. Your nerves were shot, and this whole thing was just making it worse.

You almost hoped to not see her there. But that'd be impossible since she lived there. Opening the door two guards stood infront of you looking at you sternly.

"Are you Y/N?" Nodding your head yes- you didn't trust your voice at the moment. They turned and gestured to follow "come. We will escort you to the Palace"

-

You don't remember anything on the way there - it was all a blur - you blame it on your nerves, but it did help distract from the imitating Palace. Until you got there. The two guards stepped out and opened the door for you - following them the huge door to the Palace opened slowly with a creek. You took a deep breath and stepped in- turning you watched as the doors closed, sealing your fate. Locking you in - A sound of someone clearing their throat caught your attention

"This way," following closely, you dared not speak, not trusting your voice - and for the fact your throat was so dry a word couldn't get out when if you wished it.

Being led by two fully armed guards was almost as unnerving as the lack of decorations in the halls leading to the Fire Lords office. It was devoid of anything to show the human side of him - if there was any. The only lights shown were from flames - obviously, one's from the Fire Lord himself probably made. The only sounds you could hear was the sound of your heart beating harshly in your ears and the metal taps of the swords on the guards.

Stopping in front of huge double doors, they turned to you unblinking. "He's inside." Was all they said before they opened the doors for you. Once you stepped in they shut loudly the candles blowing out closest to you leaving you alone in the dark- minus the glow of flamed down the hall. Clenching your hands you took a deep breath and tried to relax-

The closer you got to the flames- the more the urge to run as far as you could got worse- alarm bells ringing in your head at the thought of this all going wrong. Something practically 100% possible. Even on his good days, he would be cruel. Stopping in front of the flame wall blocking you from the full view of the man himself - Fire Lord Ozai. His face covered in the shadows from how he sat, but the flames didn't hide how terrifyingly huge he looked - bowing in respect you were about to great him- before he put his hand up to stop you

"Do you know why I asked you here?"

It took you a moment to gain the courage to respond - surprisingly, he allowed you the moment - as if he thought you actually knew the reason. "No, Fire Lord Ozai. I do not. " A deep hum was all you got in return - fabric moved, glancing up, you gulped.

He stood up.

Walking towards you, the flames moved, almost glinding out of his way like a door - he stood before you. Moving his hand in a gesture, you understood to stand straight up , your eyes cast away in respectfear. Walking around you in a circle.

Like a predator hunting his prey. He stood in front of you again after a moment. "Yes. You are perfect." The odd complaint from him did nothing to ease you - seeing your confusion, he hummed."There's an arrangement. Obviously, your Father never told you." The look you held did nothing to stop him,"the arrangement was. His firstborn was to marry my firstborn." The words he spoke caused a mixed sense of emotions in you- confusion, anxiousness. And fear from what was your next thought.

His firstborn was banished.

"But. Giving the events that unfolded with my firstborn. The agreement changed a bit. You will marry my second born."

Clicks of footsteps echoed behind you. You didn't dare look behind you.

"You are to marry my daughter- Azula. Whom I was made aware you were friends of sorts." Turning away, he walked back to his throne. "You will be Wed in two months."

Behind you, someone cleared their throat, turning around, and froze. Azula stood arms crossed, staring at you - almost glaring from how narrowed her eyes were. The same smug smirk from years ago is still present. She almost didn't seem to change much but all the more terrifying. Even if deep down you were happy to see her

"Well. Hello Y/N, " she spoke, voice coming out in a condescending purr. "It seems like we have some catching up to do." Turning, she gestured you to follow her

-

You followed Azula to her room. You've been in it once before, but that was years ago. Before you felt comfortable - now you felt uneasy - tense about the whole thing. Standing far away from the bed but close enough, you looked around the room - it looks the same as it did, but with some added things such as plants and a new dresser replacing the old silver one she used to own.

Azula sat on her bed, pulling some books out to go through every once in a while, looking up at you - face unreadable. Shows how much has changed before you could tell what she was thinking even if she wouldn't show it - now it's like she's a new person - and in a way, she is.

"What's the matter with you?" Azula asked(more like demanded), looking over at her- Azula seemingly growing frustrated at the books in her hands- what about you weren't sure. Turning towards you with eyebrow raised an annoyed look on her face. You haven't answered her yet

"Oh- uh, nothing. Why?" Humming she placed the book down on her lap- gesturing towards the bed. Getting the message you sat down on the edge. She sat silent for a moment before sighing.

"Look." She started after a while. She took a second to think her response through - it was an odd sight. Azula glanced at you- raising an eyebrow at the unnerved state you were in. Standing up, she walked to her counter. "I get it. The situation we're in is weird. " Pulling some object out, she turned to face you. Handing it to you. It looked like a squishy turtle duck

Seeing the confusion on your face when you took it, she sighed, facing away from you once the look of realization hit you. "You always needed something to hold to calm down when you got like this." She spoke, sitting down beside you. Turning it around the squish toy was the same one you were given- and forgot about years ago. When you and Azula were close. The same accidental burn mark on the shell of the toy. You still remember how she gave it too you

-

Sitting on the bench, you held your hurt, burning hand crying. Clutching them close - you knew you shouldn't have let Azula talk you into doing such a trick.

A dangerous trick - yet she did. And here you sat hurt.

And alone.

Hurried footsteps came from behind you - you knew those footsteps. Sitting upright, you used your uninjured hand to whip the tears away harshly. You didn't want to give Azula another reason to tease you.

"There you are" she spoke. Sitting next to you she held something behind her. Face slightly flushed from either embarrassment or what you didn't know- nor gave it much thought once a toy was shoved in your face "here- I. I heard from the towns people that a thing called a 'squishy' helps calm people down. Brings comfort or whatever. So take it. It's yours" Holding it in your hand you smiled tearfully. Azula looked like she practically softened before she turned to your hand- huffing she gestured for it

"we need to clean this."

-

The memory brought a happy smile to your face. Looking up, you saw the quick look of relief on Azulas face before it hardened. "..you kept it?" A shrug was all you got in response for a moment

"Of course I did." Azula mumbled before clearing her throat, brushing you off without a word. Turning away from you - Azula was silent as you messed with the squishy in your hand. Turning towards you, she opened her mouth before shutting it. This caused to pause - Azula never hesitates, nor does she stop until she gets what she wants. Somethings wrong

Before you could ask, a knock came at the door. After giving permission, a maid came in bowing, "My lady, your training room is ready for you." A wave of her hand and the maid ran off hurriedly down the hall.

"You're coming with me." Azula spoke standing. She walked to the door, glancing back at you - an eyebrow arched. Obviously she was waiting for you to follow. Trying to swallow your nerves you jumped up putting the squish on the bed before turning to follow Azula.

The walk was quiet

-

Entering the training room a couple test dummies stood around the room. Arms stretched out like you used to see from the target practice dummies you'd come acrossed before.

"Sit there- I'll be back" Azula pointed towards some benches a bit far off- you sighed- it's better to just let her do what she says half the time anyways.

After you sat on the bench, Azula moved to the changing room. Her mind jumbled. Scattered around, and she couldn't think of a good reason as to why. Pacing back and forth, she clenched her jaw angrily

Azula was panicking on the inside - ever since she found out it was you, she was to marry. Even worse when she saw you. Would she be a horrible wife? Be like her father and treat her spouse horribly to the point of another abandonment? No. She won't be like him. Azula refuses to treat the one she's bound to in such a way - even Azula isn't that cruel of a person. She's not soft - she's not kind either. She knows the reason why you left her even if you didn't say.

It was her fault

Learning the first choice of who you were originally gonna be married to didn't help her feel good at all. Did you know you were gonna marry her brother? That you left cause of that? The selfish, selfish side of Azula prayed that was the real reason you left. She knows it's not, but it's just easier to think

She wants to prove that she's the best choice - the only choice. Of course, the arranged part of the marriage didn't make her feel happy made her feel horrible. If you were to marry her, she'd want it to be of your free will - not be forced.

Azula stopped pacing. What? Why is that the thing she's focused on. Blinking she crossed her arms. Of course the thought of someone being forced to marry her set an uneasy feeling inside her, but. The thought of marrying you wasn't bad at all-

Why is that? It makes no sense why Azula was and still is hung up on a loss of a friend. The loss of you since the beginning was horrible. It made her sick- she'd admit it only to herself now that she missed you- but.. why does she feel relief from the thought of marrying you? Was it cause she knew you?

Shaking her head she quickly got dressed

-

Fiddling with your thumbs, you glanced around the room - thankfully, in a more relaxed mood. Your heart no longer felt like leaping out of your chest. The whole area was spotless- which wasn't a surpise given how certain people would react to a messy training hall. You shuddered at the memory.

Looking over when the door opened, your face flushed a bit. Azula was already looking your way when she came out. Without a word, she stepped up and moved the dummies a bit before she begins she started to stretch. Standing straight she smirked back at you.

"Keep those eyes on me," she begain her training. Hitting the dummies far back with a punch in the air- blue flames came out in a flicker illuminating her air and passing some of the training dummies closest- but surprisingly never touching them. Only hitting her target

It wasn't much of a surpise on how good of a fighter Azula was- but you can't help but you can't help but still be surprised at how well she can control her flames. You've seen fire benders fight and train before, this wasn't the first- but it was the first seeing just how different she was to the others. If anyone else tried this. Tried to hit the target from the farthest to the front. 100% the flames passing the others would be hit and burned, but for Azula- it was like it never touched.

The more she hit and kicked, the more in awe you were in watching. If anything, it looked like a dance you'd see from how fluent and confident Azula moved to attack.

As quick as she began, the training ended. Azula walked towards you, and she didn't even break a sweat- even her hair was kept in place even though she was hitting and kicking. Standing infront of you she crossed her arms almost smirking. "Well?" She spoke with an eyebrow raised

"You were perfect! How did you even do that?"

"I'm a natural. No trouble at all" Azula spoke smugly- she wasn't gonna tell you how long it took for her to get the attack right when she was younger. Everything needs to be perfect. Azula hummed, interrupting your praise for a moment. "..We added more flowers to the garden. I'll show you" she spoke almost oddly. The praise you gave her felt weird- but it filled her ego. Of course it was perfect.

This was Azula

Nothing less than perfect no matter what.

She turned to leave to redress ignoring your call.

"We'll go once I come back"

-

The garden wasn't totally different from how it was since the last time you saw it. The tree in the middle has grown much older but still hanging strong - a knew bench was placed near it, giving the tree and pond underneath. The sun hitting perfectly in-between the leafs and from the rocks below made it have almost a glow to it.

Looking around, the bushes nearby were cut in the specific square way the Fire Lord himself seemed to prefer rather than the rounded ones. Stopping once you heard quaking noises. A smile came over your face, walking to the center pond. You knelt down, looking at the turtle ducks

"Here. You can feed them if you'd like" Azula spoke, holding a small bag of bread out. Thanking her you took it and started to break them up. Azula watched her eyes softening at the sight.

Azula couldn't put her finger on what was wrong with her. Was it her nerves? Why does this scene in front of her make her feel off? The way you're kneeling in front of the turtle ducks the way you gently fed them. The way the lowering sub hits your face. Blinking, she scowled, looking away from you. Looking out to the pond on the other side

"Do you want to feed one, Azula?" Not getting a response, you looked over, frowning at what you saw.

Azula looked almost troubled by something. "Azula?" Calling out to her gave no help. It was like she was here but not here at the moment. Calling out to her again in a softer tone to not startle her- she blinked at you slowly before registering where she was. Standing up, you watched her closely

"Azula. Are you ok?"

Azula just nodded slowly. A moment passes before she bits her tongue. A question on the tip of her tongue. She doesn't want to ask. But she has to. She needs to if she really wants to not be like her father. Not in this way at least

"Are we still friends?" Azula asked before she could stop. "Like I know this is an arrangement but. Are we?"

You didn't responded right away. Just stood there thinking. The way she looked at you- you couldn't tell what she was thinking. It was like looking at a new person. Slowly nodding your head "yes we are." You bit your lip in thought "can we have a do over? From how things ended-" it was a selfish thing to ask. To pretend you didn't just disappear from her life.

Azula nodded her head

"Then.. we can start over?" You said, looking away from Azula for a moment - turning back to look at her - her gaze was on the pond in front of you both.

"Don't see why not. We're not getting married for a couple of months, so we have time"

[kurishiri]

10 . . . alfons main story

꒰ ִ ֺ ⊹ @ notice ⊹ ֺ ִ ꒱ this translation may not be 100% accurate or contain creative liberties due to characterization or narrative flow purposes. if you enjoy, please consider reblogging, but don’t repost these or claim these as your own!

— cw: 20% dub-con (will be in between dividers), 80% fluff.

In a panic, I tried to push myself away, but then at that moment he wrapped his arms around my waist,

setting me on his knees with a bright smile on his face.

Alfons: See, now... the fact that you are going through such pleasurable things in a place like this... you can blame it all on the shaking of the carriage.

A: And what a fine position you’re in... it does make it easy to spoil you in places you like the most.

Kate: L-let go of me... I’ll go back to my seat, so——

Alfons: ‘Letting go,’ you say... now that I won’t do.

He untied the ribbon behind my neck, and my blouse slipped down my skin.

And he gave me no room to resist as he quickly took my hands, putting them behind my back.

[1] Even so, I tried to resist. (+4 / +4)

[2] Plead with him to stop.

[3] Resign yourself.

Kate: N-no, please, let go, Alfons...

My voice came out more in a gasp, and it was then even I knew my voice betrayed my words, as it sweetly melted away.

Alfons: To me, all I can hear is ‘please don’t let go, do more,’ though.

A: Did I hit the mark, by any chance?

Kate: Ah——

Once again, the carriage shook, causing my body to lurch forward, with my chest pressing against Alfons’ face.

Kate: ...!?

My blouse had already slipped off me to the point he could see my bra.

Alfons: Aww... now wouldn’t you say this is just one naughty carriage?

And when my bra, too, slipped off, my nipples peeked into view before Alfons’ eyes.

His tongue made his way there, and——

Kate: eek... ah, ah...

He fondled with them mischievously, and the place that was pressed against him felt hot and seemed to throb in excitement.

Alfons: How about we indulge ourselves in pleasure until we return to the castle... Miss Kate.

I had every intention to turn away from him.

But, once again, the carriage shook, causing my head to bob up, rather than to the side.

Beneath the street lights of London and within the carriage, while atop his knees, my waist continued to shake...

——And the next morning, when I arrived at the dining room, once again it was vacant.

(Thank goodness I got up early. It looks like there’s nobody around...)

Feeling relieved, I nibbled on my toast with neither butter nor jam.

I just was not feeling it this morning, so I was sure no matter what I put on the bread, it would all taste the same.

(This, that, everything in between——it’s all Alfons’ fault.)

(...is what I would like to say, but I also feel as though my reality is slowly getting corroded away by Alfons.)

(It’s not as though he was showing me an illusion, and yet, yesterday, we...)

When I thought back with a clear mind of the morning, the only explanation I could come up with was that ‘I was swept up in his whims.’

(So much so, I’m not sure if Alfons was really enjoying himself...)

In the end, he was the one who pleasured me the entire way back to the castle,

leaving me unable to do much for him, and he didn’t even try to fulfill his own desire with me either.

And though I tried to think back on his expression then,

there was that captivating smile, and the hot tongue that stuck out from his teasing lips...

...and how he looked quite sexy with the way his slanted eyes would cast down.

Those are the only things I remembered, so there was no way I could really figure out how he had truly felt during that time.

(...And also, my face feels warm whenever I remember it.)

Ellis: Your face is red, Kate. Are you okay?

Kate: Wahh!? Ah, y-yes, I’m okay...!

I was so surprised I nearly jumped right out of my seat, and when I turned back, I saw Ellis take a seat next to me.

(S-since when though? I must be really out of it if I didn’t notice...)

And when I looked over him, there was Jude, a newspaper spread before him.

(These two are normally so busy, so it’s not every day I see them here in the castle in the morning.)

When our eyes met, I gave him a quiet ‘good morning.’

But Jude, seeming exasperated, simply gave me a look before going back to reading.

Jude: Leave it. Whatever she’s thinkin’ in that noggin’ of hers is probably for the birds.

Ellis: If you feel unwell, be sure not to push yourself.

Kate: I-I won’t... thanks.

(There’s no way I can say it...)

After all, there was no denying that my head was filled with embarrassing things.

Starting to feel guilty and apologetic, I was hit with an urge to turn and run away, when——

Alfons: Dear me, did I hear that you are feeling unwell?

Kate: Eek!?

His arms slipped around me from behind as though in an embrace, causing my body to jump with a start.

Alfons: Let’s see here... how about I check your temperature?

Kate: Ah... Al...fons...

When I turned around, his forehead pressed against mine, peering into me.

(Gosh, he’s so close, too close!)

It made my face burn up more.

Alfons: Hmm... well now, isn’t this quite a fever. I can give you a shot, if you so like?

Kate: N-no thank you, I’m just fine without it.

Alfons: Now that just won’t do. And here I was under the impression that you wanted to be my exclusive fairytale keeper, no?

——Well, I did promise him that last night, to be sure.

(But did he really need to bring it up here...!)

Alfons: And if so, I would like you in good health.

A: I do take it you’re more than aware of my tendency to go out to play at night. And if you don’t have the strength to keep up, you can forget about keeping up with me.

All  I could see in my vision was Alfons,

so though I was interested, I didn’t know what Ellis and Jude thought of all of this.

(B-but if it’s those two, I don’t think they would talk to others about th——)

Harrison: What’s all this about an ‘exclusive fairytale keeper’?

Kate: ...!

(It’s Harrison and Roger...!)

I was hoping to eat this one toast and head straight back to my room, but for some reason, it was like breakfast happy hour was apparently going on.

(And why is the day everyone comes to breakfast today, of all days...)

I mean, I was glad everyone was doing well, but frankly I would be just as glad to just leave the rest of the toast behind and book it out.

Ellis: It looks like Kate’s become Al’s exclusive fairytale keeper.

Harrison: What the? No way, are you serious?

Alfons: Why, indeed, for you see Miss Kate here had said yesterday herself that she wished to become my exclusive fairytale keeper.

Roger: For real? You’ve dug yourself a deep hole in a single day, haven’t you, lil lady?

William: You must be quite enthusiastic to want to spend time together around the clock.

Victor: What’s all this about an ‘exclusive fairytale keeper’?

Harrison: ...Has it ever crossed your mind to be a little more creative?

Ah, that’s right. I need to apologize to Roger for what happened yesterday... but while lost in my own thoughts...

The members of Crown all came filing in one by one, and the dining hall, which had been quiet up until moments ago, was now lively.

Alfons: Well, dare I say, it seems the nature of our relationship is far from a secret now.

Kate: Um, on second thought, I think ‘exclusive fairytale keeper’ was a bit reckless of me maybe...

Alfons: By golly, and here I was ever so happy to hear that, and now you mean to say that was all nothing but a lie...!?

(Wh—!?)

Elbert: ...Are you alright?

Lord Elbert, looking bewildered, tilted his head to the side.

Alfons: Elbie, from now on I am embarking on a trip down the boulevard of broken hearts. I implore you not to come search for me.

Alfons turned away from Lord Elbert, making a dramatic show of wiping away what was clearly fake tears.

Elbert: ...? ...Alright. If you plan on coming back, I have no problem.

Liam: Wait, Al is going somewhere?

Now that Liam had arrived, that would make all nine members of Crown present now.

Roger: If Al’s up and gone, you would lose your buddy to satisfy your curiosity.

Harrison: And not only that, Elbie’s collecting habits and diet would go haywire.

Elbert: ...And when will you recover from a broken heart?

Just like a game of telephone, when I rejected Alfons, he said he was ‘embarking on a trip down the boulevard of broken hearts,’

which snowballed into a bigger and bigger misunderstanding.

William: ...It would seem Crown’s peace hinges on you, Kate?

Kate: Urgh...

Alfons was still breaking down sobbing in Lord Elbert’s shoulder.

(And by that, I mean breaking down fake sobbing...!)

Somehow, I felt that if he really were to leave, he really would be gone for several days as a diversion.

Kate: ...gh... agh, jeez, fine...!

Breathing out a sigh, I reached out to him, grabbing his sleeve.

Kate: It... it wasn’t a... lie...

K: So please let me work... as your exclusive fairytale keeper...

Alfons: ...Really?

When he turned around, it was exactly as I thought: forget about tears, there wasn’t even a single stain on his cheek.

In fact, he was beaming, making his way to the back of my chair and putting his elbow on it, with his chin on his palm.

Alfons: Because I say you hardly had me persuaded. Won’t you repeat those words more cutely, like you’re apologizing?

Kate: Hey, don’t get too over-the-top!

Alfons: Oh, but that was hardly my intention, for I was simply assessing your sincerity, you see.

(I-I swear, this man…!)

Unable to retort, my mouth only flapped open and shut, and with Alfons looking down at me,

he gave me a broad smile.

Alfons: Aww… you truly are a darling one, aren’t you.

Kate: ...

(This smile... it’s real.)

(So this is Alfons’ true smile.)

I was sure that he enjoyed wrapping me around his little finger and playing me like this — from the bottom of his heart.

(And just seeing that alone... I feel like... maybe, just maybe, I don’t mind getting teased like this...)

(Wait wait, what am I thinking? Of course I mind!)

The reason seeing the smile he has when he truly enjoys something makes the deepest part of my heart flutter is probably, no, surely——

It was because of the illusory feelings of romance he had instilled in me.

A few days later——

Alfons: Come on now, my dear exclusive fairytale keeper. If you don’t keep up with me you will lose sight of me.

Kate: Wait a minute now... just where are we going today?

Alfons: That’s a great question, where are we going, I wonder?

Alfons had dragged me with him, pulling on my hand, and now he and I were walking side by side along London’s streets.

While walking down the streets, he would ask me for stories of my time as a postwoman,

and remembering this and that, I would give him stories in turn.

For example, I told of the time how, because of a single letter, I had to run around the streets of London until dawn broke,

and also of the time when a girl who wanted to send a love letter but wasn’t sure how,

so we thought of how to write one together, even though I myself had never written one before.

Alfons: Addressing each and every person so earnestly, I reckon you must have been positively run ragged every day.

Kate: Well——

???: Ah! Aren’t you the postwoman from before!?

(Hm...?)

When I turned to look around the streets, I found a familiar girl looking at me, surprise on her face.

Alfons: And who might this be?

Kate: She’s... the girl I was just talking about... the one who wanted to write a love letter...

It was such a coincidence that I, too, was rendered surprised as she ran toward us after whispering something to the boy next to her.

Girl with braids: Uhm, he’s the one I gave the love letter to! We’re seeing each other now...!

Kate: Eh, really!? I’m so happy for you!

Seeing her so happy, I couldn’t help but smile as well.

Girl with braids: Thank you, really... I’m really happy now, thanks to you.

Girl with braids: So I wanted to thank you... but anyway, I’m sorry for intruding on your date...!

Kate: We’re not——

‘We’re not on a date’ is what I wanted to say, but she left me no room to respond as she ran back to her lover’s side.

Alfons: Did she really have to struggle so much over a single love letter? Well, all that said, it seemed to have led to a wonderful turn of events.

Kate: Oh, did you not hear? They say love can make one timid...

K: And... about the time you were saying whether addressing everyone would run me ragged...

K: When happiness has been shared with me like this at times... I feel it’s not so bad to be run ragged either.

Seeing the girl disappear into the crowd, I turned back to Alfons to see exasperation mixed in his gaze.

Alfons: ...Truly, you are...

A: ...so straightforward, it’s honestly foolish.

The color of his eyes seemed to have a drop of affection somewhere in them, and as they narrowed, my heart skipped a beat.

(...If he looks at me like that, I...)

(For some reason, I get a bit giddy...)

So, I ended up averting my eyes.

Alfons, seemingly having paid no mind, once again began walking somewhere.

Alfons: Even so, would you not say that wishes often go ungranted?

Kate: ...You are right on that. I know I don’t hold the power to grant everyone’s wishes.

K: And even for that love letter, of course I can deliver it,

K: but I can’t do anything about how the other person feels.

As I walked beside Alfons, I weaved my feelings from when I was running around while holding letters into words.

Kate: But, if I can help even a little to deliver those feelings... then that makes me happy as well.

K: ...I suppose that I’m doing it for myself, but...

K: Are you not the same, Alfons?

Those words suddenly slipped from my mouth before I could think.

Alfons: ...Me?

Kate: See, you go out and use your ability, even when you’re not supposed to, and, you know... um, you have those relationships with a lot of people...

K: You say you do this because you enjoy them...

K: ...but the smile I saw at the slums and the pub... none of them seemed like you were really enjoying yourself, so.

K: I found myself thinking that maybe those actions themselves weren’t really enjoyable to you.

Alfons: .........

Kate: I wondered, even if you don’t have the power to change reality,

K: even if it’s temporary, or even just a moment,

K: maybe giving someone a place to escape is what makes you happy...

K: ...or am I wrong?

(...Oh, I see, I...)

(So that’s why, even though he did all those irrational and outrageous things... I still couldn’t bring myself to think he was the worst.)

(It was because... I knew a little bit about how Alfons was feeling.)

Alfons: I must say I feel quite vexed at how you seem to think I am not enjoying myself,

A: when, in fact, I live in order to enjoy myself.

Alfons smiled, seeming to evade the question.

(Yeah, I figured he wouldn’t tell me his true feelings. But...)

I felt within me that what I had just said was a firm truth.

Kate: ...Alright, you don’t have to answer me, that’s fine. I’ll just think of what I said as true on my own then.

Alfons: Well aren’t you an odd one. I do wonder just what is it you find so interesting about something like my motivations?

Kate: That...

(...I wonder that myself.)

Perhaps it was because I wanted to understand why I was so hung up on this little empathy.

Or maybe I wanted to understand him because I wanted to know the ‘truth.’

But then, why was I so hung up on finding his ‘truth’?

Realizing that I was doubting my own feelings, I grew more perplexed.

(That...)

When I looked into his ashy gray eyes, hoping to find an answer, he peered back at me...

Alfons: ——Actually, there is something I’m curious about myself.

Kate: ...? What is it...?

Alfons: When we are indulging in pleasure, I’m curious about how I look in your eyes.

Kate: .........Excuse me?

His outlandish question took away all my thoughts.

Alfons: Do I look like I find it all a bore? Or perhaps I’m not enjoying myself? Or maybe that I don’t feel any pleasure?

Kate: Um, that’s...

Just like back at the dining hall, whenever I tried to recall, my cheeks would burn up.

Kate: When we... do those things... I can’t tell...

K: So, um... I’m still not sure...

While becoming more flustered, I confessed honestly.

Alfons: ...aha—

But for some odd reason, he gave me an amused laugh, and as though to tell me I looked foolish, his lips twisted into a smile.

Alfons: So you say you’re ‘still’ not sure...

A: But you do realize that... saying that is one and the same as saying you wish ‘to do more to find out,’ do you not?

Kate: Wh...?

Alfons: Then today, you can do exactly that.

A: But... only after we enjoy this wholesome date of ours a little more first.

to be continued…

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masterlist🪞 ╱ ko-fi ☕️

꒰ ִ ֺ ⊹ @ tags🏷️ ⊹ ֺ ִ ꒱ @drachonia @.comment, send an ask off anon, or dm to be added or removed!

[lemonhemlock]

You have a point about Driftmark’s writing, because to this day I’m baffled at people not finding Alicent’s anger valid, I can’t blame that on the writing. What I can blame the writing and the framing for besides the “Aemond stole Vhagar” thing is the “But now they see you as you are” *mic drop* moment, and the scene where Rhaenyra gets her stitches, meanwhile Aemond was literally blinded and that’s barely given any attention and ends with “but I gained a dragon so it’s fair” when it would’ve been fair only if it was Vhagar who took out his eye. Like again, I understand that Aemond was de-escalating the situation, but I do think it was purposefully framed as if that was the truth of it (especially seeing as the stealing comments never get corrected)

you see, when i first saw the scene, i interpreted alicent's speech to rhaenyra as being pretty explicit - "you do whatever the hell you want all the time (i.e. even have children out of wedlock with no consequences), you are so privileged that nothing is off limits for you and you even feel entitled to maiming my son like it's your birthright, you care about no one other than yourself while the rest of us have to play by the rulebook". i would say it's a pretty accurate dressing down of rhaenyra, to which she had a projecting reply - "now they see you as you truly are" - supposedly violent and cruel for demanding luke's eye in return, when a couple of minutes ago, rhaenyra was asking for her little brother to be tortured. not to mention that rhaenyra was actually the socially & legally transgressive one with skeletons in her closet

and i have to say that even emma d'arcy sided with alicent in this scene in interviews and didn't seem to think rhaenyra had the right of it. i think that if team discourse hadn't degenerated so much, people would have been able to VAR replay the scene and accept that rhaenyra should have been carded. but the stan-ification of hotd has left many with worms for brains.

that being said, i think the main issue is NOT clarifying that dragons cannot be stolen - a mistake in an otherwise solid episode. the dialogue should have made clear that aemond was within his rights to shoot his shot at claiming vhagar AND that it was the right decision bc vhagar accepted him (if VHAGAR didn't have a problem with it, why should anyone else? that's how dragons work, they are not pets). it would have been a welcome addition because the public are not 100% familiar with asoiaf dragon lore, so it's basically a piece of exposition that's missing. so if another character is shown on screen claiming it's theft AND they're not ever corrected or challenged in any way, then our brains automatically assume that's the correct assessment bc that's how the medium of storytelling in film works. so if the viewers got that extra information - that aemond was jumped by 4 other kids and maimed basically for shit talking - then they would have been more primed to see through rhaenyra's bullshit.

as for the scene with rhaenyra receiving stitches, perhaps that could have been balanced with one of aemond being comforted by someone, congratulated for gaining a dragon and reassured that what happened to him was not justified. i hesitate to add more, bc i do feel like there's a point where you can make things too explicit and you should trust your audience to piece 2 and 2 together without spoonfeeding them everything. rhaenyra should be allowed to be hypocritical on screen without big red signs pointing at her. the problem is more of an accumulation, not necessarily in this episode, but overall throughout the season. too many of her bullshit statements go unchallenged. once in a while, someone should pop up to contradict her or at least have passers-by give her the side-eye or something. (maybe in season 2? hopefully)

for example, a cool retort after rhaenyra said she was wandering bc she couldn't sleep would have been for someone to say that she and daemon arrived at the same time because they must have both been mourning laena together. thus, you bring back to the forefront of the audience's mind that team black can't be arguing that aemond disrespected laena's memory when daemyra are out there fucking on her grave. is it absolutely necessary? no, i think viewers should have arrived to that conclusion on their own, but apparently a large chunk of them are incapable. at the end of the day, you can't solve everyone's media comprehension problems, you can just try to make good art and hope for the best. however, i would include such a comment at least in later episodes, bc it's too good of an objection to let go

[oldangelcatalogue]

|| Sick of love!||

Fanfic!

Yandere Roti X Mikan Tsumuki/Nurse!Darling

Theme song: Bruno is orange!

TW: THIS IS GOING TO BE A YANDERE FIC! MAYBE SOME CHARACTHERS WILL BE OOC! DOCTORS AND NURSES MENTIONS! BAD ENGLISH AND GRAMMAR THAT I AM GOING TO FIX AFTER

-💗-

" Yes! We are sick! Of love,and you are the reason. "

" You only have yourself to blame. "

Prologue: Gosh,i need money!

Y/n L/n!💉

" I AM GOING TO DIE I AM GOING TO DIE OH MY GOD- "

Kazuichi screams while I bandage his wound, he cut himself while fixing a car, well, I think he was fixing a car

" Do-Do-Don't worry Kazuichi! Is just a little cut,you are going to be fine! "

I finish bandaging Kazuichi's wound, he looks relieved and a little embarrassed

"Ah, I think I was a little dramatic, man-"

he says looking at the bandaged part of his arm, where the cut was

"Thanks Miss Y/n!"

He said happily and relieved and leaving the nurse's office

"N-No need to thank me!"

I answered stuttering... again

I help the school nurse every day whenever I can! I've been told that this is my natural habitat, my biggest interest is medicine, I want to be a nurse or doctor, but college is very expensive...VERY EXPENSIVE! I could try for college scholarships, but what if I don't get it? If I fail? I don't have much courage to take a test for a scholarship and tests like this aren't easy, especially the 100% ones

And I can't afford a medical course, my aunt doesn't have money, maybe I should give up I stayed at the nurse's office doing nothing, I even looked at the clock, the school day was over! I ran to my classroom and grabbed my backpack, since I had it in the room, everyone had already left, only myself to be so distracted!

I was watching curiosities videos about medicine on the computer, my aunt hasn't come home from work yet, maybe she's working overtime

In other words, another night alone

I love watching these types of videos! Studying this subject is very important to me, after all, someone can get hurt at any time.

But I still think about going to medical school, but how would I pay for it? Even if I tested for a scholarship, I don't know if I could do it, but I don't just want money to pay for college, but here at home we also have our problems... what a thing. I've now decided to stay on social media, see if people in my class have posted something or whatever, something to distract me, then I come across

announcement for a new season of Total Drama, with a new cast?

I know this show! I saw it with my aunt, the winner gets 1 million! Maybe...what if i

No, Y/n l/n you're not thinking about making an audition video to participate, are you? I wouldn't be accepted! Who would accept someone like me? There are more interesting people, MUCH MORE INTERESTING Maybe I should ask my aunt for advice when she arrives?

I will think better.

- 💉 -

" Did you hear about that, mother?

Broke her daughter's legs in two

And said, "It's too dangerous out there to walk, so I had to save you" "

- 💉 -

NOTES

Who missed me?

SORRY IF THIS WAS TOO SHORT OMG AAAAAHHHHHHHHHH

This is so bad help

SORRY IF IS NOT ACCURATE!!!!

So,i am going to say that some dangaronpa ocs can appear at the story!

SORRY FOR BAD ENGLISH I AM REALLY SORRY!!:(

Maybe i am going to delete/rewrite that

I love u all! Remember of take care and drink some water

Kisses!^^

[chloeillustrates16]

Flustered Cheeks

(I haven't really read the IDW comics, so if this isn't accurate at all. Please, for the love of God, don't go into the comments and tell me that. I know that this is probably not accurate at all.)

Summary: After the mutagen blast and dancing around each other. Leo finally gets to talk to you alone.

Warnings: You're short, Y/n use here and there, no pronouns used.

You were saved by the turtles when you were fifteen. Ever sense then, you've been close to the turtles. Especially, Leonardo. He was the one that you saw first, his brown eyes, warm and caring. Something about him drew you closer.

After the Mutagen Blast, most of New York was mutated into animals. You too were also mutated, into a tiger. You stayed small, though which caused other mutants to mock you.

You and Leo were walking down the street, it was still strange for him to walk around in broad daylight. The two of you had boxes of supplies for the mutants that had lost their homes due to the blast.

"I can't thank you enough for this, Y/N," Leo smiled.

"Of course, Leo, you didn't need to ask."

Leo watched you, as you set the box on the table. Leo didn't know when he started to have feelings for you, but after a conversation with Jennika, that's when he realized.

After your mutation, Leo blamed himself. You were miserable; who wouldn't? Leo tried his best to help you through it, but you sort of pushed him away. Your reason being that you didn't want Leo to not like you more than you already thought he did.

Leo let out a sigh before glancing around, there was no one in sight. "Can we talk?"

"About?" you asked, your hands busy with the supplies. Leo rounded the table, lightly grabbing your hand.

"Please," you glance up and drop the can.

"Yeah," Leo's hand retreated from your own. He nervously rubbed the back of his neck.

"I know that you still haven't gotten used to being a mutant. I'm sorry, for this happening to you."

"Leo, it wasn't your fault."

"But it was!" he argued, "If we had stopped the Kraang none of this would have happened."

"Leonardo--" he froze. You only called him by his full name if you were pissed or serious. Sometimes both. You reached up, cupping his cheek. The one thing he missed was seeing your red face; whenever you laughed or got embarrassed, your face would flush a beautiful pink.

Now, your fur obstructed his view of your fluttered cheeks. Leo watched as you retracted your hand away; he was confused as you rounded the table. He waited as your hands bottled into fists; you pulled him into a tight hug.

Leo felt his heart skip a beat. You never hugged him before, even when you were human. He slowly wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you impossibly closer.

It wasn't that you didn't want to hug Leo in the past, it was just so hard for you to trust people. Leo knew how much this meant to you; You slightly pull away to look at his face. You felt your skin turn 100 degrees,

"This wasn't your fault."

"Y/n," he whispers. You realized how close the two of you were, Leo's warm brown eyes was so soft. Your hands moved up his arms to his neck. "Can I?" You nod, Leo leaned forward pressing his lips against yours.

Pulling away, Leo smiled. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner."

"It's okay, I should apologize too. I pushed myself away from you, I didn't mean to make you feel like the mutagen blast was your fault."

"Why did you push yourself away?"

"I thought that...you wouldn't like me if I was this," you stared at the orange and black stripes going up your arms.

"I'm going to be honest with you, I think you look gorgeous. The only thing I miss is seeing you blush."

You let out a laugh, "I beg to differ, that was the only thing like about the fur."

"You don't think it's pretty?"

"Sometimes."

Leo leaned forward; Leo had always been a little taller than you, but you haven't felt this small before.

"I think the markings are beautiful," he brushed the fur against your forearm. "I think you're beautiful."

Your jaw went agape, you composed yourself after a bit. "You aren't bad looking either," you muttered.

"What was that?" he asked, teasingly. He had in fact heard you, he just wanted to hear it again.

"I said, you were handsome," Leo smirked. Trying hard not to freak out.

Around the corner, Jennika and Sheena watched not too far away. Jennika put her finger to her lips; Sheena was trying her hardest not to scream with delight.

[bluenight-radio]

140508

blue night radio ♡ (93rd broadcast)

stream: mixcloud

guest: nine9 from dear cloud

commercial break: none

translation:

Guest: What sports does Jonghyun like? J: I like body building. I like the feeling of the muscles that are about to tear.

credit to k's listography.

cute parts: at 16:50 a listener said that a precious friend turned solo today. they said "in my eyes it's clear that it's the boyfriend who's at fault, but my stupid (said in a lovingly way) friend blames themselves. in-gyul, [being] solo isn't so bad, don't cry and welcome to solo world". jonghyun replies "in-gyul-nim, welcome" and then you can hear pd-nim wheezing in the background hahaha. and at 41:50 nine9 says "compliments are really nice, right?" and jonghyun says "that's right", nine9 then asks jonghyun something in the lines of "do you listen to compliments?" and jonghyun replies "I do it in the mirror" and nine9 "ahh [to] yourself?", "what do you say?" and jonghyun says (that he says to himself - in the mirror) "you're handsome" and nine9 laughs and jonghyun too. then he says "wasn't that a bit too big of a laugh?" and nine9 says something like she didn't notice it, she saw pd-nim laugh and couldn't stop/didn't notice the change in her laugh. she then says that the image of jonghyun standing in a mirror saying that to himself is too cute, jonghyun says something which idk how to translate haha and then nine9 says "you're handsome!" and jonghyun snorts/laughs, and nine9 as well hahaha.

then at 52:50 (they are talking about john mayer) jonghyun asks nine9 to tell a bit more about john mayer, and she says "the most important question, this handsome man, who has he dated?" and jonhyun replies "why is that important all of a sudden?" and nine9 says "it's really important, because [something I sadly didn't understand]". and at 53:00 nine9 mentions three different names of celebrities john mayer has dated and jonghyun replies after each one "aigoo, aigoo-ya, aigoo aigoo" hahaha. and at 1:01:30 he and nine9 sings a little bit! and at 1:19:15 jonghyun says "why did i like people who have a nice smile?".

as usual, don't take my wanna-be-translations as 100% accurate because they still are not!

song list: here

picture: none

tweet: none

← previous episode | next episode →

[thecreativecorner33]

This request may include triggering content involving mental illness and self harm, so please just delete it if you aren't comfortable doing writing that mentions these things.

---------

But could I request Ted x a fem S/I who has self-loathing and OCD about whether or not she is a bad person and if she accidentally hurt other people in the past, maybe reassuring her and talking her out of "punishing" herself?

If not, I understand, hope you have a good day!

Everything's Okay

TWs: Mental Illness, Panic Attacks, Self-Harm, Canon-typical Violence, Minor gore

A/N: I want to start this off by saying, I don't have OCD. And because I don't have OCD, even with the amount of research I can put into it, I still do hold a bit of worry that this isn't 100% accurate. That being said, I understand feeling that type of way completely. So I hope that this does give you the representation you are looking for, and if not, I would honestly be okay with trying to rewrite this to be more accurate. Also, I didn't know how to add in the fact that it's a fem reader, so this story actually ended up being gender-neutral in the way that, no name or pronouns are used at all. I am very comfortable writing darker topics such as this, my only worry is doing it well. So I really would like feedback for this in particular, because I want to do it right. And for those of you who also feel this way: You're not a bad person. A bad person would not be so scared at the idea of being bad. People make mistakes. People have flaws. That's just being human, and IHNMAIMS is a perfect example of that. As long as you try to do the good thing, the right thing, you're not completely, irredeemably bad. You can be better, and you probably already are better than you believe yourself to be. And I wish you all the best in your journeys of learning that.

Ted couldn’t believe you. Any of you! God, of course! 

It’s not enough that now they had to deal with a blind Benny; he had to deal with both you and Ellen being absolutely hysterical! All because Gorrister didn’t know how to keep his hands to himself! All because you didn’t know how to keep your mouth shut and not make things worse! All because Ellen didn’t know how to stop making a pity party of herself!

All of you-! It was all of you! If you all could stop getting at each other’s throats, at his back, maybe he could do something more! Maybe he could find a way to get out of this mess! God-!

He didn’t know where you had run off to. It happened in the chaos of trying to get Benny down from the ledge. Your voice, laced with panic and desperation, trying to call him down. Tensions were high, and at some point, you had snapped at Gorrister momentarily for his lack of concern. Everyone saw through it though, the same way they saw through Ellen’s concern; neither of you cared. No, of course not, why would you? No one did. There wasn’t any reason to in a Hell like this. And with the two of you distraught, a part of him couldn’t blame Gorrister for having enough. 

By the time Benny was settled down, enough for them to keep going, you were nowhere to be found. He didn’t have time for this; none of them did! So he went to look for you. Better him than Gorrister; Ellen and Nimdok too preoccupied to help. Of course, leave it to him to do everything.

“Come on!” He yelled, walking back the way they came. He called out your name, but you never answered. “Where did you go?! Stop hiding already!”

He walked past blinking lights and metal walls. He walked past wires, and circuits, and bits of machinery scattered about everywhere. It shouldn’t have been hard to find you, and yet, you had to make it harder on him. Of course. Of course!

He must’ve walked for multiple minutes, or maybe it was even an hour, before he heard your voice. Or what he could only imagine was your voice. The same pitch, the same sound- but the tone was different. It was… familiar to him. In ways he wasn’t sure were great. He could hear you muttering to yourself, and as he got closer, he could make out words.

“Stupid, stupid, stupid-!”

“Hey!”

You shrieked, and jumped away from him as he finally reached your side. He watched as you backed away from him, eyes wide while your hands flew behind your back. “Ted-! Ted, hi- hi!” You said, looking him up and down. “I, uh- um- I was-” You bit your lip, taking a short breath, “How’s Benny?”

… Something was definitely wrong. How you were acting now wasn’t normal. You were too jittery- too on edge- but he paid it no mind. Either way, your actual words irritated him, and his eye twitched. “He’s blind. What do you think?”

“I- I know that! I just- I mean- He’s down, right? And everyone else is helping him? So- that means he’s okay, at least, for now, right?”

“Yeah, no thanks to you.” He shot back.

“I know, I’m sorry-”

“Why can’t you keep your mouth shut?” He pushed, glaring at you, “You realize you weren’t helping, right? We were already trying to handle Benny and Ellen throwing another one of her pity parties, we didn’t need you freaking out, either!”

You took another step away from him, flinching at his cruel words. It only made his irritation grow, and a part of him almost understood why Gorrister slapped you; it was wrong, yes, but it was just too much!

“I wasn’t trying to-”

“But you did! You made things worse, in fact! Don’t you know how to stay calm?! How to keep your mouth shut?! Panicking doesn’t help any of us! Don’t you realize what kind of situation we’re in?!”

“O- Of course I do-!”

“Do you?! Do you really?! Because here I am, having to handle everything again, because you can’t keep your mouth shut, and because Gorrister doesn’t know how to control himself, when we’re supposed to be trying to help Benny since he just went blind! And now, instead of moving north like we’re supposed to, they all have to wait for me to come get you, which puts us in more danger than we’re already, in since the two of us are now out in the open where anything could get us, and worst of it all, you can’t even mean you’re sorry!”

“But I am-”

“But you’re not, or you wouldn’t look so guilty right now! You’re not sorry, you’re just upset someone’s finally saying something about how you act!”

“I- I’m sorry-”

“You’re not sorry! Stop saying you’re sorry! God, why can’t you just do something right?!”

…

He hadn’t realized he had backed you up against a wall until he was staring into eyes that reflected himself. He hadn’t realized he was yelling, either. Ted stepped back and scoffed. 

One small part regretted pushing you, but the rest of him said it was deserved. You needed to hear the truth. You did mess things up. And worst of all, you weren’t even sorry. Hell, if anything, you were probably saying it just to mock him. He knew you hated him- That’s why you never actually meant your apologies. Anything nice you ever said wasn’t genuine. It was all just a way to try and make yourself out as better than all of them. Ellen had her tactics of doing it, and you clearly had yours. He had enough of it! Enough of all the crying and the yelling and-

… and… 

He turned to look at you seeing you visibly shaking. Your chest heaved. Your breathing was too erratic; eyes too wide. Tears had already begun to spill down your face, and a sharp pain went through Ted’s chest at the sight.

… Fuck.

“I… Ted, I…” You gulped down air, pressing yourself against the wall, “I’m sorry…”

“Hey-”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry-” You repeated, like it was the only phrase you knew. Your breathing quickened, and your hands reached up to your head, grabbing fistfuls of your hair. Ted’s emotions all melted away, leaving behind concern and fear as he watched you begin to pull at it harshly. “I didn’t mean it- I didn’t-! Fuck, I didn’t mean to-!”

“Wait-”

“God, FUCK, I’m so stupid-!” You suddenly yelled, banging one of your hands against the metal wall. It was enough to make him jump back in shock, “I knew I fucked it up! I always fuck it up! I thought I was helping, I just want to help, and every time I try-!”

“Hold on, I didn’t-”

“I’m sorry!” You yelled louder, drowning out his voice, “I’m sorry! I’ll do whatever it takes to make up for it! I just- Fuck! Fuck-! I didn’t mean it! I- I don’t know what’s wrong with me!”

The words hit him like a train. Before he knew it, you had slid down to the floor, shaking and sobbing, ripping at your hair and saying things that made no sense. Things about people he didn’t recognize- how you just knew those other times were your fault too, that you knew they were right to call you awful, that it had to be you that was the problem. 

Your hands moved from your hair to your arms, beginning to scratch and pull at the skin, and it was then he noticed just how red your arms already were. In the midst of your panic, he could hear you say something about tearing the “awfulness” out of you

Fuck.

Fuck. 

What did he do? He had no clue what to do. Ted felt paralyzed, watching the scene play out before him. The sobbing wasn’t stopping, and there was no way he could get to the others in time to try and help snap you out of your panic attack.

He could feel eyes on both of them. The sound of a short burst of static shot out behind him.

He was watching. 

You must’ve heard it too, because you flinched and covered your face with your arms, nails digging into your face. Your voice grew in sound. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” You yelled, and he knew you weren’t talking to him. “I can be good! I can be better! I know I can, I just-! I need to tear it out! I need to get it out of me, I can do it-! Please-!”

… He couldn’t feel anything but regret now.

Regret didn’t help, though. He needed to do something- anything. But he wasn’t good at this; he had never been good at this-! Stopping panic attacks was Ellen’s department, not his! And if anything, seeing you panic only made him start to panic. But he had to do something. 

He looked down at you, trying to block out the noise and just think it through. A faint memory tugged at him, reminding him of how he used to handle these types of scenarios. How Ellen would handle his. Would it really work, though?

He didn’t have the luxury of sitting around until a better idea popped up. 

Steeling his nerves, he moved directly in front of you and kneeled down. “Hey.”

You flinched once more, covering your face further. “Please-!”

“Stop saying that.” He said firmly. He reached over and grabbed your hands, tight enough that you couldn’t pull away. Slowly, he pulled them away from your face, being met with blurry eyes and awful red marks on your cheeks. You could only freeze up, staring at him. “I need you to listen to me. Are you listening? Can you hear me?”

Your breath hitched. “I-”

“It’s okay.” His voice softened. “Everything’s okay.”

With no room to hesitate now, he wrapped your arms around his neck, then wrapped his own around your middle, pulling you into a hug. He could feel you tense up in his hold, and he had to do his best to hide his own discomfort. It was awkward, definitely unpleasant, but anything to get you to stop at this rate. 

“Relax. Everything’s okay.” He whispered, keeping a tight hold on you.

“I… No… No, it’s not-” Your voice cracked, and another sharp pain went through him. He could feel you trembling in his arms; how your nails were now digging into his back, your forehead pressed against his shoulder. “Ted, I’m so awful-”

“No, you’re not.” He reassured, leaving no room to argue. “You’re not awful. You were trying to help.”

“But I-!”

“There’s no but.” He held you tighter. He knew what he needed to say next. But he still struggled to get it out. “… I shouldn’t have yelled at you like that. You were trying to help.”

“I… No…” 

“I mean it. You’re not awful. You were trying to help. And that’s okay. Everything is okay.” He repeated.

Maybe there was a God. Maybe there was a Sweet Jesus. It was the only thing he could think of as you slowly began to calm down. The tears didn’t stop whatsoever, but every time he felt your breathing begin to pick up, he squeezed you; a subtle way to ground you and remind you he was there. 

He probably hated it was him and not someone else, like Ellen. Perfect, pristine Ellen, who could do no wrong. Who knew how to comfort a person better than he ever could. But if he did, he didn’t show it. He could live with that for the time being. 

… Awful. No, you weren’t awful at all. Far from it, in fact. You were so much better than he ever was; than he ever could be. He was the one who yelled at you until you cried and hurt yourself. He was the one who put this thought in your head that you needed to make up for something that didn’t exist. Hell, he couldn’t even say sorry to you. Compared to him, you were perfect. He should’ve been the one apologizing and begging for forgiveness.

A part of him hated himself for not being able to actually apologize to you.

Eventually, your tears died down as well. Then, your shaking. But he didn’t let go until your breathing returned to somewhat-normal as well.

When he finally pulled away, he held your shoulders and made sure you couldn’t look away from him. He tried not to look away from you, either. “… You didn’t mean it. You were trying to help. I know.”

“… Y… Yeah…” You managed to choke out, nodding.

“Thank you. For trying to help. You’re… You’re a good person. I mean that.” 

Did he sound sincere enough? Did you believe that? No- why would you? He had been awful to you. And what kind of person would believe someone they hated?

“M-Mhm…” You nodded again.

“…” 

He wanted to say more. He wanted to beg you to not do that to yourself again. That he couldn’t stand the sight of you so afraid, or the sound of your crying. He wanted to plead with you to come to him if you ever felt so awful that you had to pull it out of you, because one look at him would have been enough to remind you, no, you were so much better compared to him.

… But he couldn’t bring himself to say it. 

So he squeezed your shoulders, then stood up, offering his hand. Shakily, you took it, and he helped you back onto your feet.

Before he pulled his hand away, he looked at your face one last time. At the red marks, and the way your eyes were still glossy from crying. And he just couldn’t let himself leave everything unsaid, either. 

“The next time Gorrister puts his hands on you,” He squeezed your hand, looking directly into your eyes, “You tell me, okay?”

You said nothing for a few moments. And he didn’t know what to expect. Maybe for you to shove his hand away. Maybe to tell him off, or yell in his face, or do something that would make him stop feeling so worried for you. He didn’t have time to feel worry for anyone- least of all for people who hated him. 

But you didn’t. You just nodded, using her free hand to wipe at her eyes. “Okay.” You whispered finally.

…

“Okay.”

He let go of your hand and turned away from you. “Come on, let’s head back.”

The two of you walked in silence. 

And the worry in his heart never went away.

[goofysimpleton]

Keith Howell

Main Route Chapter 9

~This translation is not 100% accurate. Just here for you fellow impatient friends.

N=Narration

⬛️=whenever the next text showed up

I have the characters address Belle as MC for main character

Italics for flashback scenes

Choices are bold. The 4+/4+ is blue.

Scene 1

N: Keith appeared dashingly in front of the Duke, who cursed him for being unsuccessful, smiling. ⬛️ With cold, beastly sharp eyes.

Bad Keith: “Is it okay if I join the conversation too?”

N: While asking the question, he held me close to hide me from the Duke's gaze. ⬛️ I was far from being relieved due to being heated up by Keith’s body temperature.⬛️ The sight of those sharp, beastly eyes made my body stiffer and stiffer.

Jellal: “K-Keith… What I just said…”

Bad Keith: "There's no need to be frightened. That's what you wanted to say, right?" ⬛️ “I'm a poor prince, but I'm not incompetent, and I'd be happy if you think I'm better.”

(Keith… Are you angry?)

N: Even though he looks kind, the air that caresses my skin feels uncomfortably cold.

Jellal: “As I said earlier, that's what I heard, not my opinion." ⬛️ "There is no such thing as a failure! There is no one who has devoted himself to the country more than you, Keith."

(Wait, he’s blaming it all on someone else.)

N: I unintentionally clenched my fist, and Keith’s big hand gently tapped my back as if to soothe me.

Bad Keith: “Then Mr. Fernand, whom you are supporting, is doing more to the country than I am.”

(Mr. Fernand is the king's younger brother, isn't he?)

N: I remember Rio saying that he was taught by Liam.

Bad Keith: “I wanted to hear what you said earlier.”

Jellal: “That’s…”

N: The Duke’s face was extremely blue and looked so dismayed like he was about to collapse. ⬛️ When the air became so heavy that I hesitated to speak, ⬛️ Just like popping soap bubbles with a snap I heard a gentle laughter.

Keith: “What?”

Jellal: “Eh…”

Keith: "I didn't want her to know I was ugly any more, so you accidentally told a bad joke."

Jellal: “Hahaha… Are you kidding me?”

Keith: “I’m sorry, but…” ⬛️ “Tonight I'm in a good mood to be at the party with her." ⬛️ "If you keep talking like this, I think I'm going to get you into trouble again."

N: Perhaps Keith’s words worked, the Duke ran away.

Keith: “…”

(Keith?)

N: I felt a slight bewilderment from the golden eyes that looked down on me, and I couldn't help but stare back, wanting to know the reason.

Sonia: "Are you going to argue in front of me like this?

(Ah, yes, Sonia is here too!)

Keith: "If you're going to try to talk about me, aim for a time when the two of you are alone. yes!”

Sonia: “MC, look forward to it.”

MC: "Oh, you two, please stop teasing me."

Keith: “We’re not kidding.”

Scene 2

Sonia: “The Duke may be exaggerating, but Keith, you’re pushing your hands too hard." ⬛️ "That's the first time I've seen you like this."

Keith: "I should have rushed in without thinking, trying to settle the situation somehow. I'm sorry."

N: If he lets go of me, Keith will apologize. He lowered his eyebrows in a humble way.

Keith: "MC, I'm sorry I made you feel bad."

MC: "Keith, you have nothing to apologize for."

(Rather, it should be fine to be angry, but even at times like this, Keith worries about the other person.)

N: That's why I couldn't forgive everything the Duke said. To the extent that I want to deny everything he said.

(...But it seems true that some nobles don't like him very much.)

N: The kind gaze towards Keith from earlier cannot leave my head.

Flashback Keith: "Even so, my sister is a very kind girl because she still talks to her 'failed' brother. Really."

(Because the people around him say so, maybe Keith himself thinks he's not good enough.)

N: What if I was in that position? ⬛️ Just thinking about it made me feel like I was stabbed with a sharp object. ⬛️ Words can easily hurt others and yourself. It doesn't matter if there is malice or not.

(No, when I remembered it, I became fuzzy again.) ⬛️ (I need to change my mind.)

Keith: “…”

N: At that time, the relaxed tone of the stringed instruments resounded in the room. ⬛️ The people who were chatting took each other's hands as if invited and began to dance freely.

Keith: “MC, do you want us to dance, too?”

MC: “Eh?”

N: When Keith came in front of me, he held out his hand respectfully.

(With Sariel-san's lessons, I was able to dance reasonably well. But...)

N: When I was hesitant about putting our hands together with a handful of anxiety, Keith bent down and looked into my face.

Keith: “Do you mind if I’m with you?”

MC: “I don’t mind. Just…”

Keith: “Then let’s dance. Come on.”

MC: “Keith!?”

N: With a semi-forced but graceful gesture, he pulls my hand and walks to the center of the hall. ⬛️ And without even having time to get nervous, the dance began.

Keith: “MC, were you hesitant because you are so good at it?”

MC: “I feel that way because of Keith leading.”

N: In no time at all, I was absorbed in dancing with Keith, with a gentle lead that naturally moved my body.

(We’re really dancing.) ⬛️ (Dancing is so much fun.)

Keith: “Having fun?”

MC: “Yes! Very much!”

Keith: “Then let's have some more fun.”

(Woah..!)

N: At the moment when the music reaches its peak, he gently picks me up. ⬛️ As we spin around, my dress spreads out like a blooming flower.

(I feel like I’m the heroine of a story.)

N: Feeling like I was dreaming, my mouth feels like it will burst.

(At that time, I couldn't digest my anger at the Duke's words, and I was in a haze.) ⬛️ (Did Keith notice this and invite me to dance?) ⬛️ (what’s convenient idea.)

N: My heart beat frantically. ⬛️ When I involuntarily lowered my eyes, my waist was pulled closer as if reproaching me.

?Keith?: “Don’t look away.”

Scene 3

N: The forceful words whispered in my ear made my heart beat faster.

?Keith?: “I want you to stare at me until the dance is over. Am I being selfish?"

(That way of saying is cowardly)

N: Raising my head, Keith had a satisfied smile on his lips.

?Keith?: “Yes, just like that. Look only at me.”

N: Somehow, good eyes still felt cold. ⬛️ However, the innocence that wasn't there until a while ago disappears, and I can't turn my eyes away from that imbalance.

(I wonder if Keith is enjoying the dance, too.)

N: That thought made my heart beat faster. ⬛️ I’ll get a drink. ⬛️ Telling MC, Keith leaves the hall without paying attention to the servants. ⬛️ Then, he proceeded through the deserted corridor and entered the room at the back of the mansion without hesitation.

Bad Keith: “Isn't it great that you came before your master? Shall I stroke your head?"

N: As if reacting to Keith's words, a black-haired man in a tailcoat turned around.

Liam: “This disgusts me.”

N: Liam grimaced at the fact that he wasn't his usual gentle master, ⬛️ He tossed something wrapped in medicine wrapping paper from his breast pocket, Keith caught it without difficulty.

Liam: “You only think of really barbaric ways."

Bad Keith: “It’s barbaric, but quick. On top of that, it's easy to influence him." ⬛️ "…There are other reasons, too."

Liam: “…”

Bad Keith: “Don’t stare at me. You knew this too, so you honestly prepared like this, didn’t you?”

N: Flutter what you receive in front of you.

Bad Keith: “He’s surprisingly stubborn.” ⬛️ “It's quite possible that this time, too, it will end in just a few days. But..." ⬛️ "He seems to like MC, so it looks promising."

Liam: “I’m sure you like her, too.”

N: To Liam's words, Keith obediently bowed shook vertically. ⬛️ The color of pleasure is clearly blurred on the face.

Bad Keith: “It's obvious. Well, I don't care about this." ⬛️ “It's funny how her emotions and thoughts are both straightforward, and her reactions are fresh one by one." ⬛️ "It's worth bullying, but it's worth it. It's cute, isn't it?" ⬛️ "Well, what I like the most is that she doesn't show a single disgusted face even when she's dealing with a failure.”

N: Keith put what he had received in his pocket and walked towards the door saying he was done with it.

Liam: “Can I ask you one thing?”

Bad Keith: “Hm?”

Liam: “Aren’t ‘you’ going to disappear?”

N: After a short silence, Keith shrugged and sneered.

Bad Keith: “Impossible.” ⬛️ "I want to see him, I don't want it"

N: Keith leaves the room and walks down the corridor leading to the hall. ⬛️ There is no emotion in his eyes.

Bad Keith: “…” ⬛️ “…That’s ridiculous.”

Scene 4

(The stars are some of the brightest stars in the sky tonight...)

N: I put my hand on the railing and look up at the night sky colored with countless stars.

(Before, I read a story about constellations.) ⬛️ (If I remember correctly, the constellation Cassiopeia was formed by connecting five stars in the shape of a W.)

N: When I traced the night sky with my finger, the constellation Cassiopeia, which had not been visible before, emerged.

MC: “And the one nearby is Ursa Minor…”

(Wait, what shape was it?)

N: As I was flipping through the pages of my memories, a familiar big hand reached out from behind me.

Keith: “The minor constellation is on the left.”

N: His hand wraps around my hand that points to the night sky, and points it to the left side of the constellation Cassiopeia.

MC: “Keith…”

Keith: “Sorry to keep you waiting.”⬛️ “MC, do you like constellations?”

MC: “I don’t know enough to be in the category of my favorite, but it reminds me of a book I read before." ⬛️ “Do you like them, Keith?”

Keith: "Enough to say that astronomical observation is a hobby."

(Wow, I didn’t know that.)

Keith: "It was Ursa Minor. The place I'm pointing at is the shape..."

N: After a few seconds of thinking about what to say, Keith moved my hand as if drawing a picture in the air.

Keith: “It’s shaped like a spoon.”

CHOICES:

-Not a high mountain?

-Did you just draw the...spoon?

-sorry please repeat

MC: “Did you draw the...spoon just now?"

Keith: “…Didn’t you see it?”

MC: "I thought you drew a mountain."

(It was a mountain with a high altitude.) ⬛️ (Even so, the way to convey is not words, but drawing a picture in the air,) ⬛️ (Maybe I really felt the gap because I was giving a polite explanation to the pharmacists.) ⬛️ (…) ⬛️ (Spoon, huh.)

N: Laughter slowly welled up, and although I was in a hurry to endure it, it was already too late. ⬛️ The Keith’s face, who was standing next to me, looked a little sulky.

Keith: “Was the explanation that bad?”

MC: “No, I thought it was a bold form, not a bad one... Fufu, I'm sorry."

Keith: “You seem to say things.” ⬛️ “Then can you find Ursa Minor with the bold form I just taught you?"

N: I looked up at the night sky again, and superimposed the shape that Keith-sama taught me on the night sky.

MC: “I found it!” ⬛️ "This is the 6 stars connected from the bright star over there to the upper right. It's Ursa."

Keith: “Correct. Well done.”

MC: “Thank you for teaching me, Keith.”

Keith: "Then, I want to draw and teach other constellations like before." ⬛️ “Maybe you’ll laugh again.” ⬛️ “I want you to feel glad that you came to the party, and that you made good memories.”

Scene 5

(After all, it's kindness that makes me uneasy)

N: The Duke's words, which I had almost forgotten, began to occupy my mind, ⬛️ I feel like I'm worthless because I've been receiving kindness all the time and haven't lost anything.

MC: “Keith..?”

N: Tap...... Keith’s fingertips touched my eyebrows.

Keith: “It's wrinkled. Didn't you like the Duke's words that much?"

MC: “Yeah, I didn’t like it at all.”

Keith: “…” ⬛️ “Ahaha, I didn't expect you to answer so honestly." ⬛️ "I thought you would have said it in a kinder way."

MC: “It felt so unforgivable that I didn’t want to put it into softer words.”

Keith: “Heh…” ⬛️ "I'm happy about your words, but in fact the Duke said, 'There is no lie in the words.'” ⬛️ “The word ‘Failure’ suits me.”

MC: “There is no such thing as a failure in this world.” ⬛️ "If there is, it is everyone in this world."

N: When I answered clearly, Keith narrowed his eyes with interest.

Keith: "For example, let's say there was a person who was never supposed to be born." ⬛️ “Can you say the same thing about that person?”

(who was never supposed to be born?)

N: I don't know why Keith-sama asked that question, but his answer didn't change.

MC: “Yes, of course. That person is not a failure either." ⬛️ "He's a normal human just like me."

Keith: "A normal human like you..." ⬛️ “…I want to experience that.”

MC: “? What do you…” ⬛️ “Wahh!?”

Keith: “Ahaha, What a lovely voice.”

(Wh-Wha….)

N: When I checked the cold thing that touched my cheek, it was a glass filled with a pale pink drink. ⬛️ It smells of roses and faintly of alcohol.

Keith: “Revenge for teasing my art sense.”

MC: “You’re kidding!?”

Keith: “I know. Just kidding.�� ⬛️ “Somehow, when I'm by your side, I feel like I can gain confidence in my timid self." ⬛️ “You’re amazing.”

MC: “What…”

(Why? I should be happy...)

Flashback Keith: “I'm not the kind of person to worry about. I can't do anything, and I'm fine and do terrible things." ⬛️ “And I still laugh like this.” ⬛️ "That's why you shouldn't believe me either."

(Because I was given a completely opposite response from that time, I wonder if it feels inconsistent.)

N: Returning to myself, I hurriedly shake off the discomfort.

(It's strange to doubt Keith, even if it's just a little more positive.) ⬛️ (And... it's not like you didn't give me anything.)

N: It's a small amount compared to the kindness I’ve received, ⬛️ Keith’s feelings turned positive, causing my heart to gradually became warm.

Keith: “I chose a low-alcohol drink, is that okay?”

MC: “Yes, thank you.”

N: I took the glass. ⬛️ Perhaps Keith chose the same thing, the pale pink liquor shone like a jewel from the light leaking from the hall. ⬛️ I tilt the glass I received and take a sip.

MC: “Mm, it’s sweet and delicious.”

Keith: “…Yes, that’s good.”

N: Keith narrowed his eyes at my words…⬛️ Slowly and imperceptibly, my consciousness was covered with a thick darkness.

Synopsis of episode 10

I haven't been able to meet Keith since the day of the party, and my heart feels restless. Completely unaware that I’ve made a grave mistake...

"Whoever hurts seems to have gotten used to it."

[positivementalaxolotl]

Disney's 'Wish' isn't what you guys think it is and it genuinely has me concerned. Yes the movie didn't live up to expectations and it was really boring and the animation is a bit garbage which I don't blame the teams for and theres that one song in it that made me want to rip the tiny hairs out of my ears, but a lot of people just really don't understand Magnifico's character at all and how he represents abuse in a very interesting and often taboo way.

Because he's not only an abuser himself, but also a VICTIM of abuse. This tends to be very taboo to talk about because people automatically view it as painting victims of abuse as bad people, but I feel like it's done decently with the contrast of the rest of the characters who are all also victims of Magnifico's abuse coming together to do what's right (Though for this reason I do believe a redemption arc could have really done some good in this movie specifically, and I absolutely have a person way Disney could have gone about it if anyone is interested.) This movie brings up a topic that is so delicate to talk about and bursts it out into the open, and although it's not the best way to talk about it, sometimes even bad talking points can at least open up that conversation: Because the truth of the matter is is that most abusers are victims themselves. They believe their abuse is justified because the same thing happened to them, or they know it's wrong but they feel that need to take control over their lives because they don't have that control and decide to take it out on others. This in no way excuses the behavior, but if we're going to correct it we need to know where it comes from, but because of the potential to hurt victims of abuse, no one ever really talks about it.

Yet so many people listen to Magnifico and either think "Man he just randomly turned evil for no reason and it's bad character design" or "He was totally justified in not granting every wish", in both of these scenarios though you're 100% wrong. Magnifico's design is ACCURATE to real victims of abuse who turn into abusers. Most people don't, but there's going to be people who don't know how to cope because they weren't given those tools, and abusers HIDE their intentions. Thats how manipulation and abuse typically works. If an abuser told you that they were going to abuse you, then you wouldn't fall into the pit of despair that they need in order for them to have control over you. But also you need to keep in mind what those wishes actually did, and remember that these people were never told whether or not their wishes were actually too dangerous to grant. Regardless of whether the wish was dangerous or not, keeping them takes away the free will of the people and often times causes depression (As we saw with Simon) Even if you were adamant about not givign back most of the wishes, there's no reason for him to keep *all* of the wishes he wasn't going to grant. Like Asha's grandpa's wish. There was no reason to hold onto it.

The reason that this is so concerning is the fact that so many people don't know the signs of abusive personalities and how abuse works or where it comes from. It's scary that people will look at a villain and say "hey this guy doesn't look evil all the time so therefore he shouldn't be at all" because that's not how people work, abuser or not. No one is evil all the time, except like... Elon Musky and Ben Shitpiro. PLEASE EDUCATE YOURSELF ABOUT ABUSE. This is something that EVERYONE should do. Even if you're not worried about it yourself, you might be able to recognize it for the sake of someone you care about.

Now as a disclaimer, no I dont pay for Disney+. I watch it from someone who doesn't care about boycotting and pays for Disney+ themself. If they're going to be paying it, might as well get as much use from it as possible.

[astroyongie]

Yongie, I have a question about tarot readings, sometimes I read some readings and I don't feel like they "Match" with me at all, Do you think it's okay to feel that? Whenever I read some tarot readings I don't feel that it suits me and I end up feeling bad and sometimes blame myself for it. I hope I explained it well and that you can understand my question, I wanted to hear your opinion on this because I think you are trustworthy.

- Thank you for your attention and thank you for making this amazing Christmas special, I hope you rest well the rest of the year and take some time for yourself ❤️💋

Its totally okay not to feel that it suits you because usually we have a perception of things and we do have a type of wish we expect to read and when we read something that we don't want or don't identify with, we can be left with a bitter aftermath.

that is totally okay and you shouldn't feel bad. remember also that readings (when not personal) won't be 100% accurate ^^

[twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat]

FINALLY GOT AROUND TO READING THIS…. putting all my thoughts under the cut bc this will probably get long again …. :’3

RIKOOOO I LOVED THIS SM…..

gahhh it hurt so much to read tho :((( the idea of gojo accidentally killing you genuinely hurts me physically like. can u imagine the guilt. ive always seen him as very protective of his loved ones so i feel like this would legitimately break him …… T_T

and just. how DESPERATE he is…… hhhh. when it comes to angst, seeing that kind of desperation depicted is probably what gets to me most…. its just so :((( hes so scared in the beginning..,, so terrified at the idea of losing you and . ow. ow ow ow. :’(((( it hurts.

BUT. okok. ive said this before but !! i adore ur writing rikooo, its so pretty and flows so well and i just love love love ur descriptions…… 🥺🥺🥺 im just gonna go thru some lines n paragraphs i loved !! there r . a Lot lol. 

he buried his face into your neck, smothering his painful hiccups as his burning tears rolled down your skin. in a fleeting thought— captured by the tangy sea breeze, he’d never looked more beautiful.

this is just !! so pretty. i 100% see satoru as a pretty crier btw thats so canon to me. but the idea of reader literally bleeding out and all they can think of is how beautiful satoru is ….. that’s SO bittersweet. so good. </3 (theyre just like me fr …)

“don’t blame yourself. it wasn’t your fault, gojo.” 

(…)

“it was never your fault. ever. you’re perfect, satoru.” 

THIS. got to me. reader telling him over n over not to blame himself, spending their last moments trying to stifle his guilt ……… :( the last part ESP hurt me. ”you’re perfect, satoru.” idk its just !! such a strong line it rly got to me…. and the way they switch from gojo to satoru too !! T_T i love how In Love reader is with him and vice versa, u can really feel that affection between them… the whole moment is just so tender and achy.

in this light, he looked like an angel. every color of the rainbow reflected through prisms in his tears, those mesmerizing glittering blue eyes of his that always—

no. just blue wouldn’t be accurate enough. 

his eyes were like a kaleidoscope of monochrome— all splashed generously with rich lapis and stark cobalt, neutral navy and sparkling aquamarines.

GODDDD THIS IS SO PRETTY RIKO …….. im so jealous !! of ur writing !!! the last part is just downright gorgeous hhhhh you rly captured the beauty of his eyes … like i can SEE them in front of me ……. and again; reader only being able to think of how pretty and angelic satoru looks while they’re dying …. T_T and he’s freaking out but they’re just admiring him !! only seeing him !! oughh .

nothing more than a piece of sea glass, perhaps in the rough. yet to be refined by years of chipping and sanding, being tossed against the rocks by the unrelenting cycle of waves, drag and push ‘til the shape was smooth and there were no ridges to catch, no kinks to smoothen out, no fragile points to exploit.

to anyone else, he would seem unmovable. no weaknesses, only strengths. almost inhumane. that was the facade he tried to project, anyway.

try as he might to put up that shield of his— it never worked. at least, not with you. those round dark sunglasses that never let you catch a glimpse of the story behind his pupils always acted as a barrier between himself and the world, tucking away the fragile child within him and forcing the strongest to grow stronger.

but you’d never had trouble taking those pesky shades off; not between classes, not at shared tables with cartoons of strawberry milk between you and not on the long walks home past parks and couples with cherries of blush on their cheeks and families with smiles that seemed to shine brighter than the sun.

not behind closed doors or shared moments of intimacy, not when you’d forced them off his face and beneath your heel just so he would look at you for once and see you for who you really were. realize what he really meant to you.

perhaps that was his undoing. his achilles’ heel. letting you in when he could’ve— no, should’ve locked you out.

just.. this entire part …… ooooughhhh. i love love love !! this take on satoru. and i agree sm !! i think he puts all these walls up for a reason, but hes still only human and he cant help but grow to care for the people around him … but it always works out best for him when he doesnt :(

and him tucking the childish part of himself away !! being forced to grow up far too quickly !!! satoru is just such a sad and lonely character once u get down to it </3 i love him sm. u write him so well and thoughtfully !!

“don’t cry for me, ‘toru. maybe, once this is all over, we can… share one of shoko’s smokes together, and reminisce— about last spring…” you whispered, your muddled and chaotic thoughts suddenly clearing. 

over a stick of cancer. really?

in your minds eye, you could picture it. the trickle of burning ember and ash from the stiff paper, representing each memory recounted and ticked off your fingers until it burnt to your skin, and brought you back to the present. past the memories. moving forward to make new ones.

i love you, satoru.

was that all you had ever been trying to say to him?

THIS ONE. god. this might be my fav part of the whole fic im just so obsessed. i collapsed. your writing is seriously sooo pretty ….. i love ur descriptions n just how well ur writing flows !! the bittersweetness of reader wishing for them to reminisce over their spring together … and then . over a stick of cancer. really? to bring u back down… and then the gorgeous, drawn out paragraph after that…

and then. the last line ….. which actually just hit me like a bullet to the head tbh LIKE. GOD. that’s gonna live rent free in my brain for all of time im not even exaggerating. i cant pinpoint exactly why but it just rly …. scratches a certain corner of my brain. was that all you had ever been trying to say to him? i just !! adore it. sm.

(he thinks it’s cruel that his brilliant blue irises get to experience the lifetime ahead of him, always glowing with the life you should’ve had. but the again, he’s grateful for them; to them for letting him see the twinkle in your eye when you called him ‘toru oh so sweetly, or letting him witness the affection in your infectious grin when you pressed a kiss to his cherry red cheek after sneaking a bite of the powdered sugary crepe in his hand with a little chirp of ‘sharing is caring, satoru.’)

:’( sniffle. i love these lil glimpses u give us of just how sweet n precious reader was to satoru …. how in love they were. i feel like i can see all those warm colours w how you describe everything, n then when u bring us back to reader dying all i see is gray and blue. thats so impressive to me !!!!!! just the vibes and colours of ur writing .. i feel it so deeply hhh.

when it comes to this very mission, on this fateful summer day where the dried streams sang trickling melodies into open fields of green and when the cacophony of the cicadas’ buzz subdues the shrill scream of fireworks rising over a summer festival, satoru denies everything.

AND. god. goddddd. this line is just so, so gorgeous and summer-y and beautiful. literally so good. i fell to my knees. ”satoru denies everything.” the way you build it all up just to bring it down to that is …. so good riko it rewired my whole brain chemistry.

the little sway of the section of dark hair in front of his eye that he liked to call ‘bangs’ (should be singular. arguments and wounded prides have often ensued whenever the topic approached this)

AND THEN THIS PHSHDJD thank u for at least giving us this one lil comedic moment ….. this was so funny AND I AGREE W SATORU that man does NOT have bangs he has A Bang. we love him and his fucked up bang though <33 

as such, it is customary to say farewell to endings, but welcome the beginnings. and who’s to say the two can’t intertwine; coincide? perhaps they show up as one and the same.

after all, you had meant the end to his isolation and the beginning to his affection.

the notion only drove the knife of your death deeper, as it happened. so which is best? to leave the blade in, or pull it out? either way, it hurts. but he can’t just let it fester, infect, mold over time in his chest— and so he pulls it out. despite the sleep it costs him. the anguish it brings him.

“we’ll find a way, satoru. after all, we’re the strongest, aren’t we?”

aaaand finally !!!!…. this whole final part just went so hard. so bittersweet !! but also hopeful !! so which is best? to leave the blade in, or pull it out? i love this lineeee and how symbolic it is of how one deals with grief… and how satoru chooses to pull the knife out and move on T_T despite the sleep it costs him, despite the anguish it brings him… hes so strong !!! i wanna give him a hug…. 

also this might not have been intentional on ur part but !! i love the implication that suguru is there to help him and push him forward … even just a little bit ….. even though that’ll end up falling apart too when sugu defects :( but still !!! stsg my beloveds <3

aaaaa all in all !! i hope this ended up (somewhat) coherent pshdjdj but i adored this riko !! im so in awe of your writing, i loved this piece !! :D i dont read much satoru angst generally so this was a nice change of pace too, u did his character sm justice n just … yeah. this was so so good !!!

spring of life and death —. gojo satoru x reader

warnings: character death, light descriptions of gore (wounded, blood) i don’t think there’s anything else…..????? idk though - gojo experiences his very first lost with the one he thought would be there for the rest of them .

now would be a great time to mention that i haven’t written in ages and i also don’t know how to write gojo and this may or may not have belonged to another chara i found in my drafts from like 2021

your ears were ringing.

your world had been spinning along its axis normally just a few moments ago— you think its unfair how quickly things can escalate.

but the thoughts dim and dull in your fogged mind when you feel a hand on your cheek. gentle, delicate— like it’s holding a fragile flower in its palm, ever so careful not to crush the last breath of life from the petals and stalks even as it beholds the withering of the leaves; watching the thing wash gray and drift away.

“satoru…”

he buried his face into your neck, smothering his painful hiccups as his burning tears rolled down your skin. in a fleeting thought— captured by the tangy sea breeze, he’d never looked more beautiful.

“please don’t cry, satoru.” you murmured, mustering a weak smile as he tentatively lifted his head up from your bleeding body, crimson waves slowly spreading across the mossy cracked pavement.

the sky was dark, ominous clouds gathering over the remains of what had become of a distant shrine tucked away in the hazy mountain tops of kyoto, as the two of you lay isolated in a large stone gazebo, the dead bodies of mutilated curses strewn all around you beginning to slowly disintegrate and disperse. cliffs stretched high above the murky water around the bay, covered in age old stone and soft moss. 

you lifted a hand weakly, unable to do much as you felt your strength seeping through your body, releasing as you fought to remain conscious. it felt as though everything had slipped out of your hands, after years of desperately hanging on to it. your life had been yanked out of your own feeble hands as soon as you had stepped foot in that deceiving, bright taxi. 

you gently laid your hand on satoru’s red cheek, glistening with fresh crystal tears, a snag, rip, and tear in his sleeve where he’d torn off the rudimentary uniform fabric in a frenzy to bandage your flowing wound.

it was tragic, truly. he hadn’t been careful with his application of blue, and you’d been caught in the cross fire, curse for curse and human all subject to the tornado of debris and stone that his cursed technique wrought upon the dilapidated clearing. 

“don’t—“ you mumbled, cutting off abruptly as an unwelcome coughing fit rocked your fragile body, blood splattering in your hands and leaking from the crevices between your stiff fingers— those that used to hug satoru’s own thin digits between them— as you covered your dry mouth and tried to smother the hacking pain in your throat; the burning sensation that dried your mouth and pricked at your fading consciousness. 

now, the only thing your hands held were the coalescing essence of seeping crimson life and the cold swirling air that remained from an effect of your cursed energy. so empty and numb.

“don’t blame yourself. it wasn’t your fault, gojo.” 

his heart squeezed tight in his chest, nostalgia gripping him in a vice as memories of your first night with the school came rushing back like high tide in his mind. 

“no… no—! this can’t happen.” he muttered, panic overriding his shakily hopeless demeanor. his voice was loud, cracking; it erupted from the eroding stone rooftops, carried over aging terraces into the rich green trees overhead. the small waver in it was impossible to miss, and even more so to ignore.

“i can bring you to yaga. surely he knows how to care for someone, right? maybe shoko has special first aid knowledge from her cursed technique, or maybe suguru can help you somehow… please, stay with me [name]! don’t go.” he cried, his hand desperately fumbling to clutch yours as you looked on with sadness.

it was, truly, such a shame. the sun had long since passed its crux in the arch of the firmament, casting its warm golden glow that refracted and dappled through speckled leaves and cracks in the wood onto the melancholy scene below.

in this light, he looked like an angel. every color of the rainbow reflected through prisms in his tears, those mesmerizing glittering blue eyes of his that always—

no. just blue wouldn’t be accurate enough. 

his eyes were like a kaleidoscope of monochrome— all splashed generously with rich lapis and stark cobalt, neutral navy and sparkling aquamarines. it was as if there was an entire rainbow of the soothing color in his irises, dimensions of depth and fragments that rivaled the ridges of the seas and the layers of the earth. though, this rainbow only consisted of the tranquil tone; but at this very moment, the only hue you could catch in the dying light was one of pure blues. and not in the sense of an artist’s taste for palettes, but in the sense of sadness. regret, guilt, and above all— pain.

“satoru.”

he paused through a flurry of sniffles and held-back tears, glancing at you with trepidation and a growing uneasiness as he noticed your lack of breath. it was like you were struggling for air. 

the thought only frightened him more.

“promise me.. that you’ll take care of them.” you murmured, as your body began to lax against your own will. a familiar feeling of release came over you, like lying in bed after a long day. only this time, you wouldn’t be able to get back up.

“don’t say that. we can look after them together, right?” satoru pleaded, reaching forward as you lurched back. he gently grabbed your shoulder, shifting his hand onto your back so he could pull you up and into his arms, cradling you delicately as if you were a crystal glass ornament, threatening to shatter at any given moment. 

if you were an ornament, so beautiful and yet so fragile— than what was he?

surely, in his eyes: nothing more than a piece of sea glass, perhaps in the rough. yet to be refined by years of chipping and sanding, being tossed against the rocks by the unrelenting cycle of waves, drag and push ‘til the shape was smooth and there were no ridges to catch, no kinks to smoothen out, no fragile points to exploit.

to anyone else, he would seem unmovable. no weaknesses, only strengths. almost inhumane. that was the facade he tried to project, anyway.

try as he might to put up that shield of his— it never worked. at least, not with you. those round dark sunglasses that never let you catch a glimpse of the story behind his pupils always acted as a barrier between himself and the world, tucking away the fragile child within him and forcing the strongest to grow stronger.

but you’d never had trouble taking those pesky shades off; not between classes, not at shared tables with cartoons of strawberry milk between you and not on the long walks home past parks and couples with cherries of blush on their cheeks and families with smiles that seemed to shine brighter than the sun.

not behind closed doors or shared moments of intimacy, not when you’d forced them off his face and beneath your heel just so he would look at you for once and see you for who you really were. realize what he really meant to you.

perhaps that was his undoing. his achilles’ heel. letting you in when he could’ve— no, should’ve locked you out.

“‘toru… you’re strong. everyone knows you are. remember that this was never..” you trailed off, another coughing fit causing you to shake and sputter, blood splattering over your tattered clothes. 

“it was never your fault. ever. you’re perfect, satoru.” 

he only stared at you, tears welling up in his swirling blue eyes. his fists were clenched, and you thought for an instant that—

well, not like you’d ever be able to tell if it was his blood that mixed with yours in the limp palm of your hand or just your own. if you’d mistaken the clench of his fingers so tight into his own skin that he’d drawn his own blood with those long digits for… a lesser show of emotion.

that’s how it always was with him. you never quite knew if it was only your love gushing from your open heart, or if there was a droplet of his mixed in there too. or maybe, a trickle of it. perhaps even a waterfall. with him? you could never, ever tell. it often presented itself much differently from what it truly was. much like its owner.

“don’t cry for me, ‘toru. maybe, once this is all over, we can… share one of shoko’s smokes together, and reminisce— about last spring…” you whispered, your muddled and chaotic thoughts suddenly clearing. 

over a stick of cancer. really?

in your minds eye, you could picture it. the trickle of burning ember and ash from the stiff paper, representing each memory recounted and ticked off your fingers until it burnt to your skin, and brought you back to the present. past the memories. moving forward to make new ones.

i love you, satoru.

was that all you had ever been trying to say to him?

perhaps, from the very beginning, the fates had ordained it to be this way. and try as you might, you could never escape their elaborate tapestry of cruel life. 

“i love you, satoru.” you mumbled, and with all your remaining strength, you barely pulled yourself up, tugging him down from his neck as his soft lips met yours. the kiss was bittersweet in every sense of the word— if colors and phrases were tangible, then he’d label it a dreaded farewell, a deep melancholy departure— something that hurts so, so much but is inevitable all the same. truly, he thinks it’s so pathetic how he was reduced to nothing in a mere instant.

then again, you always seemed to have that effect on him.

he watched in silent anguish as your eyes glazed over, the last fading pieces of your fleeting consciousness swirling away from your broken body as your hand fell limp to your side, final words lingering in the air. his body screams at him to do something— take your cold hands and intertwine your soft fingers with his, light the life in your eyes again with some fairytale kiss that he yearns to take the two of you away from this goddamned world. but it’s too bad, really. there’s nothing to do about what’s already been done.

after a long moment— what could’ve been a few seconds or a lifetime, he couldn’t tell— satoru pulled away from you, your lips cold and foreign to him, lacking the luster and warmth of the person he knew the best. his lover. 

“i love you too, [name].” he whispered, his voice breaking. he felt so small and insignificant, time stretching on in a cruel instant as if to mock him for this happenstance he brought upon himself. it was a scary, unfamiliar feeling. that’s how things had always been with you; letting you in, relying on someone— letting you see him for who he really was had always been a terrifying thing to him. but this time he knows you won’t be there to smother the fire and ash of reluctance with sweet kisses and words like crystalline water to douse the malevolent anxieties; he knows he’ll be alone again as tears began to flow and flow once more from his ever bright eyes, like a relentless waterfall that slowly shaped rocks and eroded banks over time. 

time, eons and centuries. 

and for all the next, which he would have to start afoot on a path that left a cold vacancy by his side, the wind blowing against his back a harsh and cruel reminder.

(he thinks it’s cruel that his brilliant blue irises get to experience the lifetime ahead of him, always glowing with the life you should’ve had. but the again, he’s grateful for them; to them for letting him see the twinkle in your eye when you called him ‘toru oh so sweetly, or letting him witness the affection in your infectious grin when you pressed a kiss to his cherry red cheek after sneaking a bite of the powdered sugary crepe in his hand with a little chirp of ‘sharing is caring, satoru.’)

when it comes to this very mission, on this fateful summer day where the dried streams sang trickling melodies into open fields of green and when the cacophony of the cicadas’ buzz subdues the shrill scream of fireworks rising over a summer festival, satoru denies everything. so what if he spent an extra hour or two there? he was just patrolling the area to make sure the presence of curses was completely exterminated; doing his duty as a sorcerer to protect the weak. it’s none of shoko’s business what your final words to him were and it certainly isn’t any of suguru’s to ask what he did with your body.

of course he disposed of it properly. he would never endanger anyone else so carelessly, again.

of course he didn’t spend an eternity by your side after the glint of adoration in your eyes had been extinguished, crying his eyes out into your empty chest which had a void instead of a heartbeat. the silence had never been more loud. to him, at least.

of course he was fine. of course. it didn’t take six eyes to see that—

“—dumbass. i’m fine. lay off, would you?” he scoffed, kicking the ground in frustration and stirring up a small cloud of dust on the faded bricks in the pavement, years of wear from generations of those before clear in the smoothness of the surface.

like a piece of sea glass. but this one was supporting another that was still in the rough. still sharp to the edges, still fragile in all the wrong places—

still breakable, with enough pressure and force and precision.

he didn’t need suguru’s… whatever it was. concern? yeah. concern. he shouldn’t go sticking his sharp nose into places it didn’t belong. only one person had ever burrowed into his heart like that. satoru was content to let the others try.

the dark-haired boy in question groaned, rubbing his temple and letting out an exasperated sigh that, satoru assumed, was drawn out in exaggeration. the little sway of the section of dark hair in front of his eye that he liked to call ‘bangs’ (should be singular. arguments and wounded prides have often ensued whenever the topic approached this) was irritating satoru to no end.

“come on, satoru. you—“

you don’t understand.

a thousand flowers of mourning and a bed of roses would never be enough for you. those were the thoughts that echoed and swirled in his hazy mind as he picked your lifeless body up, cringing at the way your limbs went slack, like a ragdoll. those were the thoughts he never dared to vocalize when he was irresistibly close to you, and still he couldn’t bring himself to speak the words lodged in his throat when he settled you down in a small green clearing a little ways away so he could appreciate your beauty and let himself wallow in self-loathing and despair for a little longer before going on with the correct procedures.

that was the smallest moment of respite he’d allowed himself. to finally feel weak for a little while. it was unfair, he thinks— the strongest, and yet he still can’t do anything against the unending march of time or the seemingly merciless web of fate the universe entangled him in, like a fly in a spider’s cradle.

in truth, he’d never felt more weak in his entire life. loss effects everyone equally, without bias or prejudice. no matter who you are. in some way, he was thankful to you; you’d taught him that, but he thinks some part of him would despise you just a little bit for giving him an unwarranted crash course.

the feeling was unfamiliar to him. but it would become like an old friend over time; one that remained even after all those who brought joy to him left.

when they were there, they brought solace. when they left, they gave loneliness.

some people are so selflessly generous in that way, right? never taking. always giving.

departure is common. people wave goodbye with a farewell and a bittersweet smile upon their faces as they bid adieu to what’s behind them and strive towards what lies ahead, willingly or otherwise. but goodbyes are not always final. after a long and toiling journey, the weary wanderer finds comfort in the presence of his family. the traveler finds comfort after a trial of hardship in his kin, and the adventurer comes home to a warm meal and a happy home.

it’s difficult to say the same for a sorcerer— a normal life is always a hair out of reach— a glimpse into pattern and routine, a dream of stability and relationship. but just that. 

a dream. nothing more. beautiful, fleeting, and never to manifest or become tangible.

nevertheless, things end, but many more will begin. 

as such, it is customary to say farewell to endings, but welcome the beginnings. and who’s to say the two can’t intertwine; coincide? perhaps they show up as one and the same.

after all, you had meant the end to his isolation and the beginning to his affection.

the notion only drove the knife of your death deeper, as it happened. so which is best? to leave the blade in, or pull it out? either way, it hurts. but he can’t just let it fester, infect, mold over time in his chest— and so he pulls it out. despite the sleep it costs him. the anguish it brings him.

“we’ll find a way, satoru. after all, we’re the strongest, aren’t we?”

but healing takes time, even if such a thing can seem heartless. and there is no rush or emotion, no presence or practice that could ever seal the broken and shattered heart faster than time itself would gently mend it back together.

so he lets the sand trickle, and lets life run its course. without you.

i actually originally wrote this for lyle collodi from hi3 so that’s y gojo just randomly accidentally kills u i’m sorry if it’s a stretch

my (riaki) stuff. don’t repost and/or plagiarize !

[baekhvuns]

hey sunbae ik im probably sending this in a bad timing but i genuinely feel like the dumbest person in the world due to my grades in uni and i know this is not accurate ive been in constant psicological treatment since i was like 9 but i keep feeling i have no strenght or intelligence to do things what do you and baekhvuns villagers suggest i really dn what to do atp

-hoobae anon

no no it’s not!! sorry i went on a whole tangent on here bc this is quite similar to what i used to feel 😭 tho anyone! pls feel free to add on!!!

ooooooo okay this was me in my first year in uni, absolute rock bottom as in like academic probation and all </3 but id say from what i did- this actually sounds so stupid but id stumble upon those ‘inspo reels’ that would show like A+‘s and 100%’s which! made me want to replicate it and it actually works, like i shit u not i kept seeing them and id say to myself “damn ok fine lemme do that to”

find the inspiration to get thru your classes— again sounds like an absolute dumb thing to say but those reels with “idk why im doing this” to “my daughter is a ____” is one thing that riled me up. i was self talking and being “if this person can, why can’t i? what’s stopping me?” instead of being scared as fuck, id be looking forward to it (like looking up the syllabus or past course outlines from previous years + past assignments to get a knowledge of how things are meant to be done and what the specific teacher likes)

i think ur probably experiencing overwhelming of work in which case, literally for a day or two, do not think about your uni. just relax, put a movie on, be lazy, get good sleep and stop questioning yourself or blaming yourself AND then when u get back to studying— physically write things u have to do, it’ll make you want to do the things more !!

visualize yourself getting those grades and those honours, do literally anything for that grade, extra help, ask the teacher, email the TA’s, go to your academic advisors, bother + communicate the hell out of them (bc u paid shit ton so might as well get good out of it) + try to understand what ur studying style is, mine is hands on tho unfort i didn’t realize that until later— if u have readings given to u, print them out and highlight, write or draw over them !!!

also take a time limited approach in which you schedule your tasks, ask if “can i get this done in 2 hrs? or how much can i get done in 2hrs?” (set timers or do the methods of 2 hour study, 1hour break for walking around, eating and more) divide it into sections and get on with it, yes procrastination will be present, u will question everything but it’ll also motivate you to do better, it’ll make you feel as if your excited to study and not have it as a burden on u !!!

[zepskies]

Aw yay!! Thank you so much, friend. Starting off with a bang, so to speak. 😂❤️‍🔥

I broke! 🤣 I love innuendos like this!

LMfao SAME! It was very fun to try and capture that here. 😂

I snorted hard at that one 🤣 Oh sweet Lord and baby Jesus, he'd for sure say somethin' like that. Bless his heart 🤣🤣

Bless his heart, for the rest of him has already been blessed. 😏

Whoop! We have a hurdle 👀 Now, I shall wait who says the magic words first... 😈

Don't we always have some kind of hurdle with me. 😅 Ooh, I love a guessing game!

My crime-loving heart burns with passion every time I read classics like this 😍❤️ That's when you know shit's about to get good 😏 (We definitely watch too much Law & Order lol. Loved the SVU warning btw 😆)

Oh my God, WAY too much L&O! But I knew you in particular would appreciate my attempts at getting somewhat SVU with this.

Didn't want to get too graphic on it, so I held back some, but I'm so glad you appreciated those aspects. Especially since you have so much experience writing crime dramas! ("Murder cluser" -- I'm a nerd about those things too!! Trying to bring some authenticity over here. 🤏🏽 😂)

Yup, typical law enforcement (at least when you're passionate and care). I thought he'd be the exactly the same way – just drown in a case and forget your whole world around you in the process

Ugh yep, unfortunately, and we know this is already a pattern of behavior with Beau. Even more so on this case because it's literally striking too close to home.

Whoa, definitely don't mess with Y/N. Girl knows how to "silently treat" someone lmao 🤣

And I discovered this about her while trying to explore more of her character weaknesses. 😂😂 Experience has taught her the fine art of pettiness. 😌 (Lmfao Aubrey is the perfect example!)

Umpf... don't underestimate Beau either. He's playing dirty 😆

And not even realizing it! That bastard. 🤣

Yup, that's the one 😂 You've outdone yourself with the passive-agressiveness of this 👏😆

LOL I just love the phrase "deceptively calm." 🤣🤣

Ugh, the man is sweet but frustrates me sometimes. I can see him this innocently spinning around, too ���

HONESTLY. The way he even had to ask why she was mad. Like why are men seriously like this? I was legit having a conversation with my best friend about her boyfriend acting very similarly to this. 🙄🙄

Yup, there we go. I expected something like this. His "it's okay to be an asshat as long as you're saving someone/doing good" reminds me of someone... 👀

The way I chortled. Legit the perfect Dean gif for that moment. 🤣 (And 100% accurate AF.)

Ugh, typical creep behavior 😒 Show me you're a low-life criminal and perv without telling me you are... (btw: why do they always do this in shows and movies? Like, "Ooooh, look at me! If I hadn't been caught, you would've been my next victim" 😂)

Ugh ikr? That's exactly the feeling! Part of me kind of cringes making it so obvious, but at the same time, this could've become a whole new mini series if I wasn't careful and drew this out the way I could have. 😂😂

1983? I love you for this 😂 Please tell me more people got that reference 🙌

OMG Literally just you and one other person got that little reference, but I know I can always count on you!! 😂 🫶🏽

I mean, a little... But we all are sometimes, so we get it 😆🫶 I honestly hope that super creep doesn't come after her, now that he's out on bail. Poor woman has been through enough creepy serial killer trauma 🙈

Ha! I know, her pettiness is kind of understandable. But if she'd just answered his call, maybe what happens next could've been avoided...

(And I know, I'm fucking terrible aren't I? 🥲)

Welp, there we go! I spoke too soon lol. ZEP! You're gonna make this girl need life-long therapy! 😂 And poor Beau, he already blamed himself last time. He's gonna freak for sure now. This is all gonna get worse 🙈

And she was already in therapy! She'll definitely be giving that person more billable hours. 😬 Poor girl. AND poor Beau, for sure. It's going to take them both a while to work through this one. Like you said, as if they didn't have enough PTSD.

But I'm so glad that whole scene was able to keep you on the edge of your seat!! 🤩

“I’ll take you home, okay?” he said.

N'awwwww a callback 🥹🥹🥹

I love me a callback! 🥹💗 (And a title shoutout.)

Zep, omg! 🥹🥹🥹😭😭😭 Why are you hitting me with all these feels? This is me and hubs ❤️

Oh yeah that's right!!! I told you, I would love to have a love like that. 🥹

Awww, she said it first and overcame her fear 🥹🫶 I already knew he felt the same 😏 He honestly should've manned up and said it already. We know he was feeling it and close to saying it in the series lol

Honestly I'm kinda wishing I had had him say it first for that reason! But I also thought he'd be one to let certain things be implicit through his actions (not like some other Jackles characters we know 🙄), until he finds the courage to be vulnerable in that way. 💗

Zep, I loved this one shot! It was amazing! Such a beautiful addition to this wonderful series 🥹❤️ Can't wait to see what else you come up with in this universe 🫶

Thank you so very much!! 🥹 I always feel blessed by your comments, and this time was no different! I was smiling ear to ear. 💕 There one more little one-shot (for now), and I see you already got to it!! Diving into your comments there next!

A Good Man Is Hard to Find

Pairing: Beau Arlen x F. Reader 

Summary: When Beau starts pulling away from you and Emily during a very difficult case, will the pressure make or break your relationship?

AN: This is a sequel story to the Take Me Home storyverse, set just a few months after Part 9!

Word Count: 5.5K

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! Smut, a Law & Order: SVU-esque case, angst, perilous situations and violence, hurt/comfort and fluff.

Catch up on TMH: ⤵️

❤️ Take Me Home Masterlist

You took pleasure in the sounds you were pulling out of this man.

You continued to kiss down his neck. Each of your movements was slow and purposeful.

Your hips rolled against his, brushing your clothed, aching core against his risen length. His hands were like steel bands on your hips, not letting you leave even if you wanted to. He groaned.

“I needa get ready for work,” Beau chuckled. And he pointed out, “So do you.”

You smiled against his skin, and you gently dragged his flesh between your teeth.

“It’s still early,” you argued in his ear. You teased the shell of it with your tongue, making him shudder and rock his clothed hard-on between your legs. The wet tip of his cock dampened your panties further.

His hands moved down your thighs, caressing, squeezing, getting a handful of your ass in the process. Just as his fingers dipped under the satin hem of your panties, his phone buzzed on one of the nightstands. Beau let out a sigh of disappointment and reached over blindly for it.

He saw the caller ID and took in a breath to get himself together first. Even though he didn’t quite succeed, he answered the call.

“Mornin’, Jenny,” he greeted. You grinned.

“Tell her I said hi,” you whispered.

Beau shot you a “stern” look, though his lips curved at a smile. He mouthed at you to behave. 

You gave him a look that was cheeky at best.

“We caught a new case. If you want, you can meet us at the scene instead of the precinct,” said Jenny.

“Okay, where to?” Beau asked.

While Jenny gave him the directions, you used his distraction to your advantage. You shimmied out of your underwear and the overly large shirt you’d stolen from him last night. Then you drew down the waistband of his underwear and freed his cock into your hands.

“Okay, sounds g—” Beau was forced to pause on a sharp inhale.

“You okay?” Jenny asked.

“Y-Yeah. Just fine. Had a tickle in my throat,” Beau said.

"Okay, well just so you know," Jenny said, continuing to give him tidbits of information that he really should've been paying attention to.

He cleared his throat, shooting you an incredulous look. You didn’t pay him much mind as you began to touch him with care, from the weeping tip and along the shaft down to the base, even caressing his balls.

Beau’s furrowed gaze held yours as his breath faltered again. Your deft hands lined up his cock to your entrance. You teased yourself on the sensitive head of it, brushing it through your wet folds and against your clit. You had to bite your lip against a moan, but you didn’t quite manage to stifle the sound.

“Okay, Jenny. Thanks, I’ll see you there in a bit,” he said in a rush.

He hung up as soon as he could, but all the while, you were unrelenting. You finally sunk fully down on his cock, taking him all the way inside your wet heat.

Beau let out a strained groan and grabbed your arms. He sat up and pressed his forehead to yours. His lips formed a chiding smile.

“That wasn’t very nice,” he said. His voice was a bit rough, sending a shiver down your spine.  

“You want me to be nice?” you teased, beginning to let the full length of him slide out of you. You welcomed him back inside with a rock of your hips. “I just need a moment of your time, Sheriff.”

He nodded breathlessly. “Think I can manage that.”

You smirked and held onto the back of his neck as you rode him. You had a feeling you would find fingerprint bruises on your hips and thighs tomorrow, but this was worth it.

It took a lot to see Beau lose control, even in the bedroom. Now, he had a hand tangled in your hair and his lips fastened to your throat. He helped you move on him with a guiding hand on your hip. You slipped a hand from his shoulder and further parted your folds to find your clit.

But as Beau so often did, he moved your hand away so he could usher in your pleasure himself. He massaged your clit until your inner walls became almost too tight for him to drive up into you. Your thighs shook around his hips, and he managed to hold off on his own release until you came, hard on his cock.

You cried out near his ear and held onto his shoulders. He supported your collapse against his chest, but he still grabbed your hip tighter and rutted into you a few more times, until he was able to spill into you and fill you up to the brim with his warmth. You clenched on him on purpose, milking him for all he was worth.

Fuuuckin’ hell, he thought with a grunt, and he panted against your shoulder. He laid a belated kiss there.

“What a way to greet the sun,” he remarked.

You laughed breathily, caressing his cheek.

Beau was, inevitably, running late for work. He found that he was okay with that as he kissed you goodbye.

You were still in your robe and holding a mug of coffee. You didn’t need to be at work for another couple of hours. Your Tuesday classes didn’t start until 10:00 a.m.

“Have a good day, baby. I…” you trailed.

Certain words were poised on your tongue. Words that neither of you had said to one another just yet. Your heart started tripping up a bit as you realized it. 

Even though you’d known the truth of what you felt for him for a while now, you’d been very careful to let him say it first. You told yourself you didn’t want to pressure him, in light of his contentious divorce and how new this all still was between you and Beau…

But more often, you wondered if you were maybe projecting, considering your own rocky past. Maybe it was just self-preservation.

“Yeah?” Beau questioned. You waved him off with a nervous chuckle. 

“Nothing. I don’t know,” you said. “My coffee hasn’t kicked in yet.”

He just smiled and gave you one last kiss to the side of your head before he left your apartment.

Beau arrived at the scene of the crime: the parking lot of a movie theater. Jenny and Poppernak were already there inside the perimeter of yellow caution tape while the Forensics team did their thing. Jenny checked her watch when she saw the sheriff.

“What took you so long?” she asked. 

“Traffic,” Beau lied, his face warming. “What’ve we got?”

He quickly shifted his attention to the pool of blood staining the ground between his deputies. The path of his gaze led to the victim: a young woman wearing a blouse, skirt, and heels. The skirt was torn up to the hip. Her neck was cut, deep but clean.  

There were other signs of struggle; road burns on her right thigh, like she had been dragged. Jenny even found a can of pepper spray rolled under the victim’s car. 

“Maybe he was trying to get her to his car. She fought back hard enough that he cut his losses,” she theorized. 

Beau blew out a sigh and nodded grimly.

“Okay. Let’s get started.”

Two months gave the Lewis and Clark Sheriff’s Department two more murders. Both were women, presumably alone and late at night, and in the dimly lit, poorly secured parking lot of an establishment. 

Stressed didn’t begin to cover how Beau Arlen walked back into the precinct two hours before he truly had to. What little forensics they’d been able to uncover from each scene (and on the victims) let them to conclude that the suspect was male, and likely between 5’10” and over 6 feet tall.

As they now had a murder cluster, Beau and his team determined that the victims were found within a 5-mile radius. Both Emily’s school and the college where you taught were within that range.   

It had led Beau to long nights spent at the precinct and in town, researching, canvasing, working with his team to lock down possible leads. 

But those two months had also led him to cancel dates with you and plans with his daughter. He hadn’t stayed over your apartment in weeks. You’d spoken to Emily, and she told you he was often late in picking her up from school on his custody days with her. When she was with him, he always seemed distant, distracted.

It was all too familiar, Emily told you, and she hated it. 

You were worried and becoming increasingly frustrated. Any calls you made to him to check in were a few minutes at most, before he left you hanging to go back to work.

Beau had told you this was a difficult string of homicide cases, and very little else. You knew that he shouldn’t and couldn’t tell you too many details about the case, but you also couldn’t help but feel that he was pulling away from you…and leaving you in the dark. 

You’d just gotten home after a longer day than usual at work. Frankly, you were exhausted. All you wanted to do was shower and find whatever you could in your fridge to have for dinner. You didn’t care what it was at this point.

Before you could go rummaging, however, your phone started to ring. You sighed and went back to the purse you dumped on the kitchen table, and you saw that the call was from Carla. Your brows knitted in confusion. She’d been on a business trip in California for one of her higher-profile trial cases.

Carla was polite on the phone, but sounded a bit stressed.

“Emily just called to tell me that Beau hasn’t come by to pick her up from school. She’s been there for two hours,” Carla said.

Your eyes widened in surprise. “What? That’s not like him.” 

“I know, but he’s not picking up his phone. Is he with you?” she asked. 

“No, I just got home. He has to be still at work,” you said. You restrained a sigh as you grabbed your purse back up. “I can pick Emily up.”

“Are you sure?” she asked, in a relieved tone that suggested that was what she’d wanted all along, but she still wanted to be polite about it. 

“Yes, I’ll get her. Don’t worry,” you said. “And I’ll talk to Beau about this.”

“Good,” Carla said. “I appreciate that.”

After getting off the phone with Carla, you texted Emily and let her know you were coming to pick her up. She texted back:

Are you sure? I can just take an Uber to your place or something.

You replied:

No, honey. Don’t worry about it. I’ll be there in 15 - 20 minutes.

You didn’t manage to get ahold of Beau until you’d already picked Emily up from school. You braved through thirty minutes of traffic to get home again, and you stopped to grab dinner on the way.

Beau didn’t get to your apartment until later that night. You and Emily had a nice dinner of Tex-Mex takeout (though she’d said it was definitely better in Houston). He looked tired and apologetic as he went to hug his daughter first. 

“I’m so sorry, sweetheart,” he said. “I just got held up at work.”

Emily nodded and tried to smile at him, but it didn’t reach her eyes. 

“It’s fine, I get it,” she said. 

Beau knew his daughter well enough to see the truth. He sighed, but he went over to you in the kitchen next. You were putting away the leftovers. He laid a hand on your back and tried to kiss you in greeting, but you only gave him your cheek. 

You didn’t meet his eyes when you slid over the plate you’d set aside for him: a massive carne asada burrito with all the sauces, just like he liked it. 

Beau felt like an ass. 

You left him to heat up his food and went to Emily, who was helping to clear the kitchen table. 

“Do you need help with your homework?” you asked her. “I know you said you did some at school while you were waiting.”

She nodded. “Yeah, I’m pretty much done. I’ve got it.”

You smiled at her. “Okay, good job.”

The next item on your mental list was grabbing the bedsheets out of the dryer, to set up the pull-out bed from the couch later for Emily to sleep.

Beau watched you putter around the apartment while Emily settled in front of the TV with the remainder of her homework. He felt like an outsider with his own girlfriend and daughter…and there was an eerily familiar feeling churning in his gut. 

Later that night, you were reading in bed. Beau stepped out of the bathroom after a shower, with the towel wrapped around his hips, his chest and arms all dewy. You had to force yourself not to take notice.

You’d been missing him—practically aching for him for weeks, for two months. You were also upset with him though, and for more than one reason.

After he got dressed for bed in a long-sleeved shirt and some sweatpants, Beau once again noticed that deceptively calm look on your face. He knew that face, just as he sensed the tension in the air.

He sighed and came to sit on the edge of his side of the bed. Or at least, the side he’d claimed ever since he started sleeping over regularly here. Somehow, his own trailer had become a bit stale and lonesome, unless Emily was staying over. 

Beau watched your profile and saw the way you were trying your best to ignore him. 

“I get the feeling you’re mad,” Beau said, breaking the silence. “Sorry about today. I know Carla called you…I just got caught up with something at work.”

“Carla was right to call me,” you replied, though your eyes didn’t leave the page that you weren’t reading. Beau’s lips pursed. 

“Darlin’, would you look at me, please?” he asked.

You dropped your book into your lap, and you met his gaze. 

“All right, tell me. Why’re you mad?” he asked. 

You raised your brows with a tense frown.

“I’m upset with you. Because this is the first night you’ve spent here in over a month. And it’s not because you wanted to.” 

You shoved the blankets off your body and slipped out of the bed. Beau’s shoulders sunk a bit. 

“Come on, honey. You know that’s not—” he tried, but you weren’t done. 

No, you were very far from done.

“I’m upset with you, because every time I try to extend an olive branch and make plans with you, you reschedule at the last minute,” you snapped. “I’m upset with you because what few and far between conversations we do have? They consist of me trying to figure out what’s happening with you, trying to share with you about what’s going on with me—and you’re either half-listening, or you’re running off before the five-minute mark.”

Again, Beau opened his mouth to argue as his brows furrowed, but you beat him to it.

“And not to mention, you forgot your daughter,” you said. “You’ve been forgetting her, and you’ve been shutting me out.”

Beau stood along with you, his whole body tense with frustration. 

“Look, it’s not like I’m out there cheating on you! I’m doing my damn job!” he said. 

His words hit you like a physical blow. Your mouth fell open in soft shock. Tears even stung in your eyes.

“Reminding me of Michael,” you nodded in understanding. “Okay. Wouldn’t be the first time this month.”

Beau bristled; he didn’t think it was right for you to compare him to your bastard ex-boyfriend.

“Hey, that’s not fair,” he said.

"This isn't fair," you retorted, gesturing between you both with a pointed finger.

Beau's lips pursed. His jaw clenched as he averted his gaze, so he could better hold his tongue before he said something he might regret.

Too late...

Eventually, you stopped waiting for him to answer you.

Beau saw how you withdrew, both from the argument, and from him with a sigh. You crossed your arms and held yourself when you headed into the bathroom.

He internally deflated. Shit. 

Something told him that if Emily wasn’t occupying the only other sleeping place in this apartment, he’d have been booted out of your room.

Things were tense the next morning. 

Beau agreed to take Emily to school, since you picked her up yesterday. You gave Emily a hug before they left, and you had even packed her a good lunch for school. You knew she had to do that herself whenever she stayed at her dad’s place. 

And yes, while the teen was old enough and responsible enough to pack her own lunch, you just wanted to make sure she knew you were still in her corner, no matter what friction might be happening between you and her dad.

You and Beau parted ways that morning with tension still lying between you, just like it had been last night in your bed. After they headed out, you found yourself at a loss, feeling unbalanced.

You didn’t have a class today until noon, so you took the morning to truly think about what was happening here. Whatever Beau’s case was about, you knew it was serious and complex, and he didn’t want to talk about it, likely for your safety. 

All you could hope was that Beau, Jenny, Poppernak and the rest of the team were able to solve it quickly. You even began to wonder if it was fair of you to add stress on Beau’s shoulders when he was dealing with something that was clearly taking all of his energy, and making him distant with both you and Emily.

Blowing out a big sigh, you supposed you could try to be gracious one more time. You braved the annoyance of putting real clothes on—a blouse and work casual pants, as you later would have to go in to work. 

You first headed over to the precinct with your purse on one shoulder and a plastic bag hanging from your other hand. 

You entered the double doors and walked in past the reception desk, then through the bullpen. You noticed right away that there was a commotion going on, as you saw Jenny leading in a man handcuffed behind his back. You almost bumped into him as they crossed you in the hall. 

The man was tall and lean, with pieces of his coiffed dark hair falling over his sharp blue eyes. They found you, and his lips curved into a smile after he gave you a once-over. 

His smile made a shiver of unease prickle down your spine as you froze. 

“Keep moving, Casey,” Jenny ordered.

Beau was right behind her, though the moment he took in the exchange between you and Casey, Beau stalked forward and stepped in between, urging the other man forward with a firm hand on his shoulder and a stern look of warning.

Jenny and Popernak led the suspect into a room for questioning, while Beau’s hand found the small of your back and guided you into his office. 

He closed the door behind him and carded a hand through his hair. He let out a subtle breath and turned to face you. He didn’t look all that happy to see you, just tense. 

“What’s going on?” he asked. “Sorry, we’re a bit busy today.”

Before you could speak, he added, “Matter of fact, it’d be better if you called first next time.”

Your mouth snapped shut. Your brows knitted together in a glare, and you handed him the bag you carried in. It contained a nice hot sandwich and fries from Tonya’s diner, made by Donno himself.

“Here,” was all you said, before you walked out the door of the sheriff’s office. 

Beau watched you go in surprise, with the word “wait” halting on his tongue. His gaze traveled down to the open bag between his hands, and sure enough, the smell of a good meal hit him, making his mouth water and his stomach twist with guilt all at once.

Damn it, he sighed. But lunch (and a phone call to you) would have to wait. He set it down on his desk and hastened down the hall to where their suspect, in what had been dubbed the “Fall Murders,” had finally been arrested and held for questioning.

Casey Sanderson; ex-military, dishonorably discharged, an abusive mother in his childhood and an unstable mind following two tours in the Middle East had left him unbalanced, according to his friends from his unit.

His DNA was also discovered under the fingernails of the most recent victim, Christina Mendez. Two weeks ago, her body was found behind a gas station late at night, her neck carved by a knife, and bruises littering her arms and body. 

Beau entered the room where Poppernak and Jenny had already gotten started on the suspect. 

“Casey here has lawyered up,” Jenny informed him, though her gaze never left the suspect. They were forced to wait on further questioning until the lawyer arrived.  

“Ah, the Sheriff of Nottingham,” Casey remarked. His cool blue eyes watch with a measure of nonchalance as Beau stood behind his deputies, arms crossed. 

Casey nodded up at him. “Was that your girl out there in the hall?”

Beau’s formerly calm face turned to stone. 

Casey’s lips curved slightly. 

“Good taste,” was all he said.

His tone was mild, yet it still made Beau’s skin crawl. And his rage built, igniting his blood. He did everything he could to temper that wildfire into a simmer that rolled just underneath his skin. 

Jenny and Poppernak knew him well enough to see what he was thinking. Both of them watched him with hidden wariness and concern, especially when Beau stepped forward, placing one hand on the table between him and Casey Sanderson. Darkened green eyes met cool blue. 

“Where were you on November 2 between 10:00 p.m. and 4:00 a.m.?” Beau asked.

Beau was irate when, a few days later, the ADA prosecutor called him at his office first thing in the morning to inform him of the latest news on Casey Sanderson. 

“What the hell do you mean he got out on bail yesterday?” Beau snapped. “We have DNA evidence.”

“He claims that he and Miss Mendez had consensual sex earlier that evening, in the women’s bathroom, of all excuses, but they parted ways after leaving the movie theater,” said the ADA. “As you know, we couldn’t put him directly at the gas station near the theater, where she was found. The defense lawyer convinced the judge that the remaining evidence is too circumstantial to warrant holding him without bail.”

Fuckin’ hell, Beau let out an angry breath, carding his fingers through his hair. He hung up with the ADA moments later. His cell phone lighting up with a notification drew his attention, even perking him up a little, but he deflated when he saw it wasn’t from you. 

Just Carla letting him know that she’d take Emily for the weekend this time, just like he’d asked. He felt bad for it, but he needed more time to concentrate on his cases. Sanderson was just one of many now, and Poppernak and Jenny couldn’t handle it all.

Beau tried to rub his tired face back to life, but once again, he thought of you. He still felt guilty, and he still missed you. Missed you like hell. 

He hesitantly picked up his phone and he called you, hoping you wouldn’t let it go to voicemail again.

Admittedly, you were being a bit petty. You were screening your boyfriend’s calls. 

However, if Beau Arlen wanted to see you, then he could get his ass up off that office chair and come to you this time. 

You were tired of giving out olive branches left and right. You didn’t deserve to be the one left waiting and wringing your hands, wondering if this man even cared about you…as much as you’d come to care about him. 

So you ignored his call—the second one today, and you prepared for your afternoon classes. 

Even after your classes were done for the day, you graded a batch of papers to get them out of the way. As much as you couldn’t wait to go home, you didn’t feel like doing more work when you got there.

Another hour and a half ticked by before you finished grading and inputting the percentages into the online gradebook. Then, with a weary sigh, you grabbed your purse and your workbag and headed down to the garage where your car was parked. 

You always tried to park in the same spot for faculty, in a space closest to the elevators. You found your car and put down your workbag in the backseat first. When you closed the door, you saw a figure in the window’s reflection. 

You gasped and turned around. A man covered your mouth as a scream tore from your throat and echoed loudly in the garage.

He shoved you hard against the car door, but thanks to a few self-defense lessons from both Jenny and Beau, the heel of your hand came up on reflex. 

It hit the man up the bridge of his nose with a crack. He shouted and reared back. When he pulled his hand back, it came away bloody. And you finally recognized him as the man you saw at the precinct: tall, thin, dark brown hair, angry blue eyes now staring back at you.

“Fucking bitch,” he chuckled. “Got some fight in you.”

Fear was a living thing inside you, but you somehow managed to force your body to move.

You scrambled for the driver’s door of your car and tried to open it, but the man shoved it closed, then grabbed at you once again. His forearm pressed across your chest and pinned you there.

The edge of a knife poised at your throat, making you freeze in panic. The blade teased your skin, hot breath against your cheek.

“Freeze, Casey!” came an angry shout. Both you and your attacker recognized that voice. Your breath was stifled in hope. Casey frowned in frustration. 

Just over his right shoulder, you saw Beau holding his gun aimed at the man who held you. His brows were drawn together, his entire body poised to react to whatever Casey did next. 

“Turn around, hands up high, and drop that knife,” Beau ordered. 

Casey’s mouth edged into a humorless smile. “Evening, Sheriff. Up for a date night?” 

He slid the blade just slightly against your skin, enough to draw a line of blood, and make you inhale sharply. 

“I’m not gonna say it again! Turn around and drop the goddamn knife,” Beau snapped. “Try anything else, and I’ll make a third hole in your spine.”

Letting out a breath through his nose, Casey’s façade of nonchalance fell. He released you, stepping back slowly with his hands held in the air. The knife slipped out of his hand.

Beau stalked towards him before it even clattered to the floor. You were frozen where you stood pressed against your car.

You watched Beau stow away his gun and wrangle Casey’s hands behind his back, slapping on some tight handcuffs, and getting the man onto his stomach on the dusty ground, his cheek pressed hard to the asphalt. Beau held him down with one hand while he fished for his cell in his pocket to call for backup on the arrest. 

Beau’s head lifted to catch your eyes. He gave you a reassuring look. 

“It’s okay, sweetheart. I’ve got this,” he said.

His voice was warm for you, steady. When you nodded, it was a jerky motion as you held a hand to your racing heart. You then raised it shakily up to your neck and swiped at the trail of blood there. The wound itself was minor, just a sting, but it was a cold reminder of what could’ve been.

The wait for Jenny and the rest of the team was agonizing. 

Beau kept Casey on the ground, facing away from you. Eventually you were able to peel yourself off the side of your car and climb into the driver’s seat, just so you wouldn’t have to keep looking at the man who attacked you.

Jenny and Poppernak arrived within half an hour to haul Casey up and drag him into Jenny's SUV. That allowed Beau to return to your car and tap on the window of the driver’s side. You jolted and looked over to find Beau’s reassuring face. 

“They took him. It’s okay,” he said, only a little muffled through the door. You nodded and gestured for him to step back, so you could open the door. 

The moment you were on your feet and out of the car, you went into Beau’s waiting embrace. Hot tears welled up in your eyes. You hiccupped and struggled to breathe steady, but Beau held you tight and soothed a hand over your hair, down your back.

“It’s over, honey, I promise. I promise I’ve gotcha,” he said quietly in your ear. You nodded and let his warmth seep into you. 

“I’ll take you home, okay?” he said. “We’ll get your car tomorrow.”

You sucked in a trembling breath. 

“Please,” you agreed. “Take me home.”

“Am I going to have to testify in court?” you asked. 

Beau held you close in your bed later that night. You two had dinner together and had been rewatching old episodes of Friends to take both of your minds off what happened today.

Beau reluctantly nodded in answer to your question. 

“The ADA will probably ask you to, but…you can say no,” he said. “I’ll back you, whatever you decide.”

“No, I want to,” you said, even though the thought made you tremble inside. “That animal belongs in a cage.”

Beau silently agreed with you. He admired you for your vehemence, and your courage to even say that you wanted to testify against Casey. 

Beau laid a gentle kiss above your brow and continued to rub your back. You both had the blankets up to your hips with a bowl of popcorn balanced between his thigh and yours. He moved it over onto his nightstand so he could curl you more securely against him. You raised your head to consider him thoughtfully.  

“Why were you on campus?” you asked, as it finally occurred to you. “How did you know I was still there?”

“I thought I could catch you after your last class, so I went up to your office to see you,” he said. “But you weren’t there. A receptionist was on her way out though. She saw you head out a little while before, so I booked it back down to the garage to see if you were there.”

He was never more glad to heed his gut instinct. That was when he’d heard you scream.

The memory made his insides clench. Beau shook his head against the rest of it. He let out a heavy sigh.

“I’m so damn sorry for what happened. You gotta know, all this time, this is what I was trying to prevent,” he said, with pain written on his face. “But I’m also sorry that I shut you out. You and Em. I just didn’t know how else to keep you out of this. After what happened this summer…I wasn’t gonna let that happen again.”

With tears stinging in your eyes, you nodded. You knew now that he hadn’t meant to hurt you.

Beau Arlen truly was a good man, and that was hard to come by.

You shifted so that you were propped up on your elbow, resting on his pillow. You stroked his cheek. 

“I understand. And I’m sorry too. I know that your job can be difficult, and stressful, and sometimes dangerous,” you said. “But I need you to talk to me. If we’re going to do this for the long haul, we need to communicate. I can’t be left in the dark like that again, Beau. I just can’t…"

It was your turn to sigh. "It feels too close to what I went through with Michael. Being lied to. Being told what I wanted to hear, never actually knowing what was going on, until it was too late.”

You admitted that last part with a hitch of emotion in your voice, meeting Beau’s eyes. His were full of remorse.

“I know. Again, I’m sorry. I promise, I’m gonna work on it,” he said, nodding. He planned to make it up to his daughter too. He would talk to her tomorrow.

You drew his attention back with the hand caressing his cheek.

“I just don’t want anything like that to happen to us. I love you too much,” you said. A tear worked its way down your cheek. “Beau, I love you.”

Beau grasped your hand, holding it to his cheek. His furrowed expression eased, and his lips slowly turned up into a smile. A true one, hinting at all the charm that was unique to this man. You’d missed that smile. 

He dried your cheek with a gentle hand. 

“Well that’s good,” he said. “Because I don’t think I’ve loved you more than I do right now.”

You laughed through more of your tears, and let him guide you into a tender kiss. One sparked another, and more, each one more searing than the next.

Beau’s fingers disappeared into your hair, just as your legs tangled themselves between his when he rolled you over, and underneath him, where he continued putting actions behind his words. 

He gave you a promise that night, one that you’d both try to hold yourselves to in the morning.

AN: Ahh, I'm soft. This feels like the more "official" end to Take Me Home, though I'd be open to come back to these two if new ideas hit me. But until then, let me know what you thought of this one! 😘

Keep Reading:

Here's a drabble set directly after this one-shot. It's called A Crime of Passion:

Summary: When Beau Arlen decides to “make it up to you,” he’s damn thorough.

▶️ Next Story: A Crime of Passion

Ko-Fi Me ☕

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Series Tag List (Part 1):

For those of you with tag lists, Tumblr is doing a weird thing again with tags. I had to separate them 5 at a time for the hyperlinks to work on each blog! So annoying lol.

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[tls123]

my sister: how's your show going?

me: so, he came back after three months and he's okay but also not. you see, he came back slightly wrong like when sam got pulled out of hell without his soul... kinda....