#like. they are a certain way and i get to figure out why. and when i do it well they /feel/ realer because. they make sense.

[starkwlkr]

she’s always a woman | max verstappen

an: this fic is a special birthday fic for my lovely friend anto!! happy birthday love!! hope you enjoy your special day <3 also let’s just pretend that lewis wasn’t battling max for the championship in 2021 instead it’s max and the reader

tw: jos mention and narcissistic mother

Max couldn’t really remember why your friendship ended. He was always there when you needed a shoulder to cry on, when you had a bad race and needed some support, etc. He was always there so when you stopped talking to him, he was confused and hurt.

KARTING DAYS

At the time, the boys you raced against hated being beat by a girl. It was humiliating! A girl was faster than them? No way! But when Max Verstappen saw how fast you were, he was amazed. You made it look so easy.

“How many trophies do you have now?” Seven year old Max asked you as you two shared a bag of gummy bears, your favorite snack.

“I haven’t counted. What about you?” You questioned.

“I haven’t counted either.” He replied.

It was a long day of practice and all Max wanted to do was spend time with you and eat gummy bears. He noticed how you only ate certain colors like red, blue, orange and yellow. He asked why only those colors and your response was that those colors were your favorites, all the other colors looked unappetizing.

Spending time with you was something Max loved about karting. Most of the boys you competed with would rather lose than hang out with a girl, but not Max. He liked being around you. And it seemed like you liked having Max around too so it made no sense to Max why you stopped talking to him.

As time went on, Jos Verstappen kept a close eye on you. He certainly didn’t want some girl distracting his son. He kept telling Max how much of a bad influence you were, but of course Max didn’t listen. Why would he? He liked you and you liked him.

Unlike Max, your mother’s words went to your head.

“He’s just like the other boys, sweetheart. When you least expect it, he’s going to leave you heartbroken.” Your mother told you one day after another successful win. She watched the way Max stood next to you on the podium and clapped for you.

“But he’s my friend.” You said lowly.

“What did I say about this sport? You are not here to make friends, they are not your friends and neither is he. He’s competition and if you want to keep winning then you need to keep away from that boy!”

The next time Max saw you, he was the heartbroken one. Every time he kept trying to get your attention, you ignored him and turned the other way.

Did I do something wrong? Maybe I forgot her birthday? No, it was a month ago and we ate chocolate cake together.

All day Max was wondering what he did to make you upset. He had even brought a tiny bag with only red, blue, orange and yellow gummy bears for you. He had spent an hour picking out your favorite gummy bears and now you weren’t talking to him. . .

Little Max Verstappen had his first heartbreak at the hands of his first love.

The next day he figured you would start talking to him, but it was like he didn’t even exist in your world. He was starting to lose hope.

“Good, now you won’t have any distractions.” Jos told him after Max mentioned how you had stopped talking to him.

“But she wasn’t!”

“She was.” Jos confirmed.

Max stayed quiet. He knew it was no use trying to argue with his father.

As you both grew up, Max was beside you at every podium even if you weren’t on speaking terms. He hoped that maybe one day you would speak to him. He also kept a plastic bag in his bag with your favorite gummy bears to share with you in case that day ever came.

2021 SEASON

Max was both nervous and excited for the last few races of the season. Both you and him were battling for the championship. It was like a dream come true for him, both of you in Formula 1 and now you’re both in the championship picture. He wouldn’t have it any other way. To Max, it would’ve been better if you could at least acknowledge him.

It was after the Brazilian Grand Prix when Max wanted to congratulate you on your win, but had to wait until you finished with your interviews. He was eager to talk to you.

The post-race interviews were a whirlwind, but the moment that caught your attention was when a reporter, eager for a headline, asked you about Max Verstappen.

“We've heard that you and Max were childhood friends. What’s the story there? You two seem to be fierce competitors now. Was there any friendship left between you, or is it all business these days?"

Your smile tightened. It was the last thing you wanted to discuss, but you were a professional, and you knew better than to let your personal life spill over into the press room. Your gaze flicked to the corner where Max was conducting his own interviews, but you quickly refocused on the question.

“Max and I... we were friends, sure," you said coolly, your voice steady but your tone sharp, almost as if you were trying to distance yourself from the memory. "But that was a long time ago. I don’t really have time for friendships anymore. Racing’s my focus. It always has been."

“But you were so close back then," the reporter pressed. "Is it hard to battle him for the title, given your history?"

You shrugged, trying to maintain your composure. "Racing's not about who you used to be friends with. It’s about who’s the best right now. And I’m focused on being the best."

“So, no hard feelings?" he asked, genuinely curious.

You didn’t miss a beat. "No time for feelings," you replied, your lips curling into a faint, almost imperceptible smile. "Just results."

After finishing all your interviews, you walked back to your driver’s room. All you wanted was to lay down and take a much needed nap, but the sweet voice of a Dutchman stopped you. It had been years since you heard Max say your name.

Before you could say anything, Max stood up abruptly and walked toward you, his stride purposeful. He reached out, grabbing your arm with a firm grip, pulling you into your room without a word.

“Let go of me, Max," you whispered, but your voice cracked.

“No," he said simply, his tone rough, but his eyes were soft—something in them that you hadn’t seen in years. "I’m not letting you walk away again."

Your heart skipped a beat. His eyes searched yours, that fierce intensity you remembered from your childhood still present, though now mixed with something else—pain, perhaps. The unspoken hurt you both carried for so long hung between you two.

“Max," you began, but he cut you off.

“Why did you stop talking to me?" His voice was quieter now, but the question hung in the air, sharp and urgent. “Everyday i asked myself ‘did I do something wrong? Did I say something that hurt her?’ What is is? Why?”

Your throat tightened. You took a shaky breath, your eyes lowering to the floor. "You were my competition," you muttered. "And my mother… she made it clear. She said you would take everything from me. That I needed to stop talking to you or I’d lose everything." Your chest constricted, and you felt a sudden wave of bitterness rise within you. "She said you were nothing more than a threat to my future, and I had to focus—focus on winning.” It pained you to even remember all the talks your mother had with you about Max.

Max stared at you for a moment, taking in your words. The silence that followed was thick, the air between them charged with everything unspoken. Then, slowly, he stepped closer.

“I never wanted to take anything from you." His eyes were filled with a quiet sincerity that made your stomach twist. "I never asked for this. I never asked for us to be enemies."

Your breath hitched as a knot formed in your chest. You stepped back, your hands trembling. "But that’s what she wanted. She wanted me to beat you, to prove I was better. To make sure you didn’t have what I could have." Your voice cracked, the words tumbling out in a flood of emotion you had long kept hidden. "I—"

Your words faltered as you felt the familiar sting of tears threatening to fall. You tried to hold them back, but the weight of it all—the pressure, the competition, the years of silence—was too much. You turned away, pressing your palms to your face, feeling the dam break inside you.

Max didn’t hesitate. He stepped forward, his arms enveloping you in an instant. You stiffened at first, surprised by the warmth and steadiness of his embrace. For a moment, you couldn’t breathe, couldn't think. But then, something inside you snapped, and you collapsed into him, your body shaking as the tears finally came.

Max didn’t say anything. He didn’t need to. He just held you, his hand gently rubbing your back, grounding you in the moment.

"I’m sorry," you whispered between sobs. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” You kept repeating.

His grip tightened ever so slightly, as if offering you the comfort and understanding you had been denied for so long. "You didn’t deserve any of that." You clung to him, unable to stop the flood of emotions that had been building for years.

Eventually, the tears slowed, and the sobs turned into shallow breaths. Max didn’t let go. He stayed, a quiet anchor, as if he would hold you for as long as you needed.

When you finally pulled back, your eyes were swollen, your makeup smudged, but you felt something lighter—something like relief, like a door you hadn’t realized was closed had finally opened.

“Does your dad know you’re here?” You wiped away the tears.

“I don’t really care about him right now,” Max responded. He took your hand and brought it up to his lips, pressing a kiss to the back of your hand. “You need me right now.”

“Max, I don’t want you to get in trouble. You need to leave.”

“I’m a grown man. He can’t tell me who I can and any talk to.” He said.

“Then . . . I don’t care what my mother says either,” You declared. “You know, she said we couldn’t talk anymore because you were my competition. That I shouldn’t get too close to you. She thought it would make me weak."

“Your mom never understood that... you’re not my competition. You never were. You were my best friend. And I . . . I miss that.”

“I’m not going anywhere, Max.”

QATAR

The camera lights flickered on, and the usual hum of the media circus surrounded Max Verstappen as he sat in front of the press. Another victory under his belt, but the atmosphere in the room felt different today—slightly more tense than usual. The 2021 season was in full swing, and the rivalry between Max and his childhood best friend and fellow F1 driver, had become one of the most talked-about stories of the year.

“Max, earlier this week, someone that you knew quite well was quoted saying, ‘No time for feelings, just results,’ when talking about your past friendship. Given the intensity of your current rivalry, how do you feel about that statement?”

He took a breath and leaned forward, his voice steady but laced with an undeniable undercurrent of emotion.

“she’s one of the most focused and driven people I know. I don’t think anyone truly understands what it’s like to be in her head—how much racing means to her. She’s an artist, in every sense of the word, when it comes to driving. She doesn’t do anything halfway.”

A brief silence fell over the room. Max seemed to weigh his next words carefully.

“We’ve both been through a lot over the years, and yeah . . . I get why she said what she did. This sport can make you say things you don’t always mean. It can make you choose things—like cutting ties with people who used to be your family, just so you can win. But trust me, it’s not easy for her. Or for me.”

His voice softened slightly, the edge of competition giving way to something more genuine—something rooted in your shared history.

“She’s not the kind of person to just forget about things or people. I know her better than anyone,” He continued. It was as if he could talk about you all day and never get bored. “As for the championship, yeah, It’s just the way it is. But that doesn’t change the fact that I respect her more than anyone. She’s a hell of a driver, and I know what she’s capable of.”

Max leaned back slightly, the cool exterior of the driver once again overtaking his emotions. He was a fighter. And this season, he wasn’t just fighting for the title.

ABU DHABI

It had been weeks since your last conversation with Max, but occasionally you would sneak glances at each other. Maybe even smile at him, which caused the media to wonder if your friendship had finally been restored.

The paddock was bustling with the usual pre-race energy—team members darting around, engineers checking telemetry, and drivers preparing for what would be a pivotal race. But Max Verstappen was not focused on the usual chaos. He was standing in front of your motorhome, his jaw clenched as he faced a woman who had been an obstacle in his life for far too long: you mother.

All he wanted to do before the race was to wish you good luck but he had one problem that came in the form of your mother.

“This is a pivotal moment for her career, Max. The championship is on the line. She needs to focus.” Your mother spoke.

Max’s eyes narrowed. “She doesn’t need you to tell her how to focus. She’s not a child anymore. She’s not your puppet.”

She smirked, her gaze calculating. “Oh, I know exactly how to handle her. You, on the other hand, have always been a distraction. Just like you were when you were kids. I told her back then that you were competition. And look where we are now—competing for the championship.”

Max took a step forward, his voice low but sharp. “You don’t get to control her anymore. She doesn’t deserve the way you treated her. She never did. She’s not some tool for you to use to further your own agenda. She’s a person. A damn good one, too.”

Your mother raised an eyebrow, her lips curling into a smug grin. “And now you think you have feelings for her? After all these years? You’re wasting your time, Max.

Max’s chest tightened, a sudden rush of frustration coursing through him. He had always felt something for you—something deep and complicated—but he hadn’t realized how much until he saw you again. How could he not? The way you made him laugh, the way you understood him in a way no one else did. The way your presence grounded him when the world felt chaotic.

“I’m not wasting my time,” Max snapped, his voice rising. He was no longer just angry; there was something more vulnerable beneath his words. “I... I care about her. More than you’ll ever understand. And I’m not going to just stand by and watch you tear her down again.”

Her eyes widened, the smugness on her face faltering for just a moment. She hadn’t expected that. But she quickly recovered, her icy demeanor back in place. “You think you can just waltz in and change everything, Max? You think she’s going to forget the way I’ve always looked out for her?”

Max’s pulse was racing now. “You’ve never looked out for her. You’ve held her back. You’ve made her feel like she couldn’t trust herself. Do you know how many times she’s questioned her worth because of you?”

Before your mother could reply, Max spoke again. “If you think for a second that I’m going to back off now, you’re wrong.”

Your mother glared at the Dutchman. “I’ve spent years in Formula 1, fighting for every ounce of respect, and now I’m fighting for her, too. And I’m not letting anyone—least of all you—tell me what I can or can’t feel about her.”

His words hung in the air between them, the weight of them settling in. He turned to leave, but paused at the door of your motorhome, looking back one last time.

“Tell her,” Max said, softer now, “Tell her I’ll be waiting at the finish line. I’ll always be waiting.”

Maybe your mother would pass on the message, maybe not. Either way, Max would still be waiting for you.

The roar of the crowd still echoes in the distance, but it’s muffled, almost surreal, as you stand behind the barriers, your helmet under your arm, heart still racing from the intensity of the race. The buzz of the paddock feels far away, and your body is heavy with exhaustion and disappointment. You finished second—close, but not close enough. Max had done it. He’d won the championship, after all the drama and all the battles that had led them to this final, decisive moment.

You lift your eyes and see him, standing by his car. Max, in his usual composed way, looking like he belongs there, like he's always belonged there, standing among the team and the media, all his focus, all his attention fixed on you. A smile tugs at the corner of his lips when he spots you, but it’s the way he’s standing, waiting, that hits you. Like he said he would.

You hesitate for a moment, thinking about your mother’s words, about everything that has always been said about Max—his arrogance, his rivalry, the fact that he’s always been competition. But this, here, this feels like something different. He’s not the enemy anymore. At least, not in the way they used to think of each other.

You take a breath, and then, almost instinctively, you walk toward him. As you step closer, you hear the whisper of her mother’s voice in the back of your mind, a warning you’ve heard so many times before. Stay focused. Don’t let him distract you. He’s your competition, not your friend.

But your steps don’t falter. You reach him, and when you do, you look up at him, your gaze soft, not the hardened competitive stare it once was. Max’s grin deepens, though it’s filled with something almost bittersweet.

“I heard you were waiting for me,” You said, the words slipping out before you can stop them. Your voice is steady, but there’s a touch of vulnerability in it, something you can’t quite mask.

Max’s eyes soften, and for a moment, it feels like time pauses. He looks at you as if he’s not seeing the driver, the fierce competitor, but the girl he used to know—the one he used to race against in karting, the one who once shared the same dream, the one who still, in some ways, understands him better than anyone else.

“I told you I would,” he replies quietly, his voice low and calm. “I wasn’t going anywhere.”

Your mind flashes back to the words he said to your mother, the promise he made—I’ll always be waiting.

“You won. Congratulations.”

Max’s expression doesn’t change, but there’s a certain warmth in the way he looks at you, a quiet understanding that goes beyond just racing. He takes a step closer, his voice a little softer now. “You’re better than you think. I have a feeling you’ll take it away from me next year.”

You shake your head, but there’s no bitterness in your gesture. “Next year,” you repeat. Your fingers press the edge of your helmet tighter, almost like you’re grounding herself in this moment. But there’s something else too—a sense of peace you haven’t felt in a long time. “Maybe. But I’m just glad you’re here.”

Max’s smile is genuine now. “I’ll always be here. Waiting for you to finally beat me.”

You laugh—a real laugh this time, one that’s not forced. “Maybe I’ll take you up on that one day,” you say, your voice a little lighter. “You should go with your team, I’m sure they’re waiting to drown you in champagne.”

Max chuckles, then steps forward. For a moment, it’s just the two of you, standing in the midst of the chaos, everything else fading into the background. You breathe in, realizing just how much this—this moment—matters more than the championship itself.

“So, Max, you’ve just won the title, but there’s a lot of talk about your competitor. She’s been called ‘too emotional’ in the past by some. What’s your take on how she handled this title fight?”

Max turns towards the reporter, a protective energy surging in him. He absolutely hated doing interviews, all he wanted to do was get back to you. “Well, for one, I think anyone who says she’s ‘too emotional’ is clearly not paying attention. She’s one of the most focused drivers out there. Honestly, anyone who thinks you can compete in this sport at the level we’ve been at, especially in the last few races, without being deeply passionate—well, they don’t understand what it takes.” He glances over at you, who’s trying to hide a smile while also looking frustrated with the question.

While you were a few feet away from him doing your own interview, you could hear Max. You tried hard to listen to the interview questions, but all you wanted to do was listen to what Max had to say.

“isn’t it a bit too much? The way she gets in her own head. She’s been—well, let’s just say, a bit of a perfectionist this season.”

Max shook his head, chuckling at the reporters words. “But, you know, that’s exactly why she’ll be winning a championship someday soon. I have no doubt about it, but I’m excited for the day she takes my championship away.”

Max could hear you burst into laughter at his words. His smile grew ten times bigger. “Seriously, though, she’s one of the most talented drivers I’ve ever known. she’ll steal the show when you least expect it. And maybe she’s a little bit hard to understand at times, but that’s exactly what makes her great.”

The reporter nodded. “Are you saying she’s like, uh, the Billy Joel song?” He asked confused.

Max grinned, clearly amused by the confusion. “She’s always a woman to me. Maybe I’m not the best person to explain it, but you get the idea.”

You chuckled once again as you heard Max. He really had a way with words.

“And one day, I’ll be watching her take the title with the same respect I have for her right now.”

That’s when you decide to step in after finishing your interview. “Maybe, Max. But for now, I think I'll let you have your moment. You’ve earned it.”

“We both did. I owe it all to you.”

[felassan]

David Gaider on Fenris, under a cut for length:

"Fenris. Now, DA2 is a story all on its own but I'm not going to go there other than to sum it up as "we had just over a year and a half to make this". It's why I only wrote one follower, Fenris, and although it'll make his fans mad: I probably shouldn't have. Let me explain. The way we'd approach making the followers is brainstorming a list of concepts covering first the array of gameplay classes (and sub-classes) and then making sure they each have some skin in the game when it came to the story's conflicts - ideally having characters on both sides of the major ones. Why? You can't make a player care about the world, but you can make them care about characters who care about the world. It's the easiest way to provide hooks into a conflict, outside of it knocking on the player's door. Heck, it's probably better than that. Players will burn the world for approval. After that, we'd decide things like romances/sexuality. Then the writers would pick who they'd write. I always let my writers pick first. I figured they do their best work when it's something they're inspired to write... and they got so few chances at ownership, I wanted to give it whenever I could It's why I (reluctantly) let Patrick wrest Cole from my grasp in DAI, a character I'd created in Asunder. It's also why I let Jennifer take Anders in DA2, who I'd started in Awakening. In this instance, it meant I was left with the angry elven warrior character who nobody else appeared to want."

"It should have been my first clue that something was up. The second was how the artists had zero clue what to do with him. The art concepts were all over the place - from mages to crows to... well, even weirder. No matter how hard I tried to explain the idea, the artists simply didn't seem to get it Does this mean he was a bad character? Not exactly. Just an idea that probably deserved some re-examining. You can tell when an idea has a certain spark, and part of that is being easy to communicate. Sadly, there wasn't time for any re-examining even if it'd occurred to me. And it didn't, not yet. If it had, if I had time, maybe I'd have re-booted him as a templar. Someone pro-templar rather than anti-mage, who could give a personal hook into Meredith and give the templars some badly-needed humanity. But this falls into the shoulda-woulda-coulda category. I had a follower to write. Quickly. I struggled, at first. It was hard to get away from "Fenris hates everything, all the time". It felt very one-note, and I didn't know where to take him. My third clue, I guess. I also wasn't sure if I was the right person to write a former slave. I did know that couldn't be the center of his story. I did know trauma, however. How it can eat you up. How the hate and resentment is like drinking poison and hoping the other person dies. How it can infect your relationships. Fenris's trauma isn't my trauma, obviously, but here I dipped into a more personal part of myself than I'd ever done before."

"It gave me the center of his story I was missing, but wow was it uncomfortable. In a good way, maybe. I likely wouldn't have, if I hadn't been so desperate. In a way, I think DA2 had some of our best writing *because* of the timeline. It was raw, with little time to sand down the interesting parts. I wouldn't have done the "Fenris doesn't talk to you for three years" thing if I'd known we were going to cut all the reactivity initially planned for the time jumps. When that call was made, I campaigned to cut the jumps to a year, but there was no time for the revisions it'd need. So, um. Awkward. I used to get asked where the name came from, and I... don't remember? Obviously it's derived from Fenrir, but I don't recall why we picked that. Someone pointed at Fenris the Feared from Joe Abercrombie's books... and I did read them, so maybe the name lodged in my head? Wouldn't be the first time. Casting Fenris turned out to be easy. He was the first time I requested a specific VA and got him. (The other times were Merrill and then Solas, my two "I want these specific Welsh actors, please".) Why? OK, if you must know, I'd played a bit of Final Fantasy XII. I heard Balthier. "Yes, that." 😅 And Gideon Emery was a delight, as it turned out. Consummate professional, and that lovely gravel in his voice... good god. Bite the knuckles. There was a struggle to find the voice at the outset where I did my best not to say "just pls do Balthier" but he found Fenris on his own and it was amazing. Overall, Fenris turned out better than he had any right to, considering the rocky start. He had a lot of soul, a vulnerability forged by pain that struck a chord with a lot of players, and I'm glad. Do I regret anything? Probably having him live in a corpse-filled mansion that would never update. That's a hindsight thing, though, as again the cut to reactivity over the time jumps came late. Outside of that, maybe letting the player give him back to Danarius? Poor shock value and a waste of resources because almost nobody took the option. Good evil options are ones that are tempting to take. And the lyrium tattoos. Interesting concept, but they're probably why you'll never see Fenris in a future DA. He requires a custom body, and the tattoos make that expensive. It's why I put Fenris in my 4th DA novel - the cancelled one. Don't fret, though. He died in it, so this way he lives on. 😉"

[source thread]

User: "Wait wait how does he die in [the cancelled novel]??" David Gaider: "Gloriously, after taking up a cause he didn't believe in at first but then made his own, one that allowed him to rediscover what it meant to be elven." [source] David Gaider: "I’m not sorry about the novel cancellation. I’m the one who cancelled it. I am kinda sad we couldn’t make it work, though. Considering it was after I left the DA team, it would have been my final DA hurrah." [source] David Gaider: "From my perspective, it was kind of "well if you're never going to use him again, let me at least give him a proper send off" and the story required a glorious death... but I get that's not the story his biggest fans would want (which is Hawke + Fenris 4ever), so it's just as well." [source]

User: "You all did some incredible work with such a tight deadline" David Gaider: "I'm of the opinion that even if we'd had only another six months to bake, DA2 would be remembered as a classic and not either a flawed gem or underbaked sequel, depending on who you ask." [source]

David Gaider: "Just to clarify the "they're probably why you'll never see Fenris" thing, as it's spawned commentary: 1. It's the reasoning as was explained to me back then. 2. Obviously, if Bio *really* wanted to, they'd find a way around it. But it was a complication that meant he couldn't be included casually." [source]

[zorbik-guligan]

Not really sure what incongruous means so I'll look it up after but it does feel like as i get older life gets more complex theres more things i understand now that sure i knew about them before but not in great detail but it feels like I've become so fucking complex as a person that if i tried to explain what i actually think and feel it would just overwhelm a person so i try and section myself off into pieces and just use different parts of me with different situations or people and it may just be because ive spent most of my time these past 2 almost 3 years now alone with nothing to do but think and figure myself out that when im asked what i think about something slightly personal its kinda hard to say it just got lost in my head somewhere and that whatever i think will change at a moments notice like i can bring up memories of lots of things and remember nostalgic times but i spent so long thinking about why i feel a certain way or what makes me feel a certain way in order to try and get a better hold of myself that ive kinda forgotten alot of my past like so many memories that i made are just gone because remembering them made me feel a way i dont want to feel like i remember realizing the beginning of 6th grade that i had completely forgotten 5th grade and the reason why was because that time i had was so nice yet not at the same time my brain just frogot because it didn't want a reminder of how good yet not something can be like great teachers who for the first time ever actually seemed to care as far as i could tell class mates who were generally friendly and occasionally checked on me if i seemed off yet i felt so alone cause nobody there really seemed like a real friend like the friends i had before who even when we were in deep trouble wouldn't rat me out and would stick with me who genuinely cared and missed me if i was sick getting older and not having anyone to socialize with for really formative years off my life has made understand those really old dudes who are nice and always up to make friends but just seem extra lonely for some reason despite knowing so many people i guess technically being that alone did hurt me but i kinda learned that im just not alone ever when im outside theres always some squirrels birds or plants nearby that make it more lively its why ive grown so fond of certain forested spots they are always lively and it feels like hanging out with all my friends its also why i enjoy making things like with metal or wood stone or even writing and painting those things feel alive in a way same with music and having time to think so much has made me reflect and realize that no day is the same and even when something changes something else stays the same or gos back to how it was in a weird cycle like growing but remembering where you were growing older for me anyways is like gaining more skills and more knowledge not just on the stuff around me but on myself too obviously people change sometimes pretty quickly too but getting older makes you learn more about yourself which duh that how life works but still it feels weird to be aware of it at 17 when it feels like i should still be trying to figure out my favorite youtuber or something not contemplate who i am as a person and what makes me feel the way i do but its a good kind of weird and theres always more to learn and find so i still have plenty of room to learn more about myself still not being able to really fully let a person know you kinda sucks but to be fair that is a rather special thing its also nice being able to put into words why i feel a certain way so that i can actually explain myself instead of just going quiet cause i dont know myself that well still kinda funny to know your own problems but not be able to jusy fix them when you know its a very deep problem even when it seems surface level and damn i got kinda personal there woops also just noticed that im shaking so might be overwhelmed remembering 5th grade which is probably why i frogot it or at least thought i did

anybody else feel that being human is like being a long-time syndicated cartoon character watching the world get more complex while your own design stays the same until youre incongruous with the reality around you??

[aziraphales-library]

Hi! I've noticed that almost every post-s2 fic has some form of Crowley being heartbroken (drunk and/or sleeping usually). (Usually these fics also include Aziraphale having been wrong during the Final Fifteen and needing Crowley's help.)

Are there any post-s2 fics out there where Crowley *isn't* heartbroken? I'm hoping for ones where there's a secret plan and Crowley was headed on a covert mission at the end of s2, but anything where he isn't just falling apart would be great.

I do get a bit tired of seeing so many sad, drunk, heartbroken Crowley fics. Here are some where he is Not Like That...

Betrayal Stings Like a Serpent’s Bite by Inherently_human (G)

When the Supreme Archangel walks into the bookshop, he is shocked to still find his demon there. And he's singing and tidying, of all things. Guilt tears at Aziraphale, but Crowley reassures him of the only truth that matters: he trusts him.

Aziraphale vs. The System by gatoradeeh7x3 (T)

Crowley decides to take Nina and Maggie's advice and speak with Aziraphale following The Kiss. He proposes a one-month trial period as Aziraphale's second-in-command. Follow along as Aziraphale tackles the challenges of institutional reform while Crowley waits patiently for his angel to see reason.

Two sides of the same coin by Sylvestris123 (T)

After Aziraphale is recalled back to Heaven to become Supreme Archangel, Crowley tries to pick up his life. Before long they find themselves in the next battle to save the Earth - this time from the Second Coming and the Final War.

Deep Blue Sea (or: Crowley's Thoughts About Coastal Erosion) by Imagined (T)

Aziraphale looks at Crowley. Several complicated emotions cross over his face—his familiar, well-known face, and Crowley can precisely pinpoint everything that is going on with his brows and his lips and the pinching of his eyes, can read in the lines of Aziraphale’s expression the way he is working up to something— “Who are you again?” Aziraphale asks, and Crowley crashes like the wave against the rocks.

Five years after he left for Heaven, an angel plummets out of the sky, with no recollection of much of anything, really. While navigating his own complicated feelings, Crowley is left to wonder what happened to Aziraphale, and most notably… to figure out why their wings are turning grey.

A Light in the Dark by cyankelpie (T)

After leaving Crowley to return to Heaven, Aziraphale Falls, certain that no one will help him pick himself back up. Crowley proves him wrong.

On the Side of the World by profdanglais (M)

The demon Crowley has gone rogue. Precisely what “rogue” looks like on a demon who was never anyone’s idea of “manageable” is something neither Heaven nor Hell is currently equipped to deal with. Hell is rebuilding and Heaven, under the auspices of the Supreme Archangel Aziraphale, is focused on spreading the Word of their prophet, known as the Second Coming--of what, exactly, remains unspecified. Neither side seems to remember who Crowley used to be, nor have they bothered to change the passwords. The Metatron has no interest in demons, rogue or otherwise. His Plan is going swimmingly and he couldn't be more pleased. Now if only he could figure out who’s responsible for all these unauthorised miracles that just keep happening, far and wide, on planet Earth.

- Mod D

[hees-mine]

Birthday girl - L. Heeseung

Pairing: heeseung X fem reader

Warnings: smut, unprotected sex, alcohol consumption, multiple orgasms, cursing, stepcest, daddy kink, dirty talk, cheating.

Genre: 18+, stepcest.

Word count: 2k+

-

“Mom, just one, please. I promise it’ll only be one.” It was your 21st birthday, and you celebrated in the kitchen with your mom and your stepdad as you begged her to let you have your first shot on the day you officially turned 21.

“No, I never had a shot at 21,” she simply answers, turning away from you and putting away the leftover cake she had your stepdad buy from the store cause she apparently couldn’t be bothered to get one for you herself.

“Mom, come on, that’s not fair!” You whined. “I’m literally an adult,” you reasoned.

“And you’re literally under my roof,” she replies back nonchalantly like she always does. You hated it when she acted like this.

She would always hold things over your head: no sleepovers, no parties, no boyfriends, no nothing, and it’s not cause she was looking out for you. It’s cause she was jealous of you.

She always told you how she never got to have any of those things, and now you can’t shake the feeling that even though she never directly said it to you, you feel like she’s taking it out on her only daughter, which just isn’t fair.

“Dad!” You turned to heeseung your stepdad, looking for his approval, and he gave you the tiniest hint of a smile while folding his arms and resting against the kitchen counter.

You and your stepdad had a much better relationship than you and your mother, unlike her. He seemed to actually care about you, which is comical cause he wasn’t even your real dad, and he treated you better than your mom ever did.

He’d always vouch for you, defend you when arguments got too heated, and he never made you feel like you were always in the wrong, unlike your mother did.

His care for you did go a lot further than just how a stepdad would care for their stepchild because his hugs would last a couple of seconds too long. His kisses on the cheek were a little too affectionate, and he'd eye you when you wore revealing outfits a bit too much.

You didn't mind, though. You did it on purpose cause you liked the attention. He wasn't your real dad, and besides, you had met him so late in your life that you were already fully grown, and you didn't even see him as a father figure at all.

Dad never even crossed your mind when you thought about him. All you saw was a very attractive man, and you wondered how your strict, bitter mother landed a gem like him.

“You heard your mom.” he swipes the cake as your mom sets it in the fridge and licks the frosting off his fingertip, humming at the sweet taste. “Now go upstairs and get ready for bed, young lady.”

You rolled your eyes and did as he said. You thought he’d vouch for you this time, too, but apparently not.

Little did you know he had other plans up his sleeve. He only said no to you cause he was not about to start a fight with his wife over you taking one measly shot, especially since it was your birthday.

His wife always had a way of making things about her just cause she didn’t get a shot at 21. Why couldn’t you? If he didn’t know any better, he’d say his wife was jealous of her own daughter, and if he’s being honest, it was kinda getting on his nerves the way she’d bitch at you all the time for virtually nothing.

When he married her, she was not like that at all, but once he moved in and you all became family, the whole dynamic changed. She paid more attention to scolding you than him.

He wasn’t needy necessarily, but he did get lonely sometimes, especially in the bedroom, and heeseung noticed that you talked to him more than his own wife.

Which resulted in him developing maybe not a crush but a certain attraction to you, and to his luck, it was mutual between the two of you, considering all the shameless flirting you did back and forth.

At first, he felt a bit guilty, but with the way he was feeling in his marriage, he might as well have been single. He’s not excusing his actions, but he definitely doesn’t care or feel any shame in checking you out from head to toe on a daily basis.

He’d be lying if he said he didn’t spill his load in his palm once or twice at the thought of you.

How could he not when you’d purposefully bend over in front of him pretending that you dropped something or the way you’d push your chest against his whenever you’d hug?

You had already gotten ready for bed, sulking a bit as you leaned against the bed frame, scrolling on your phone.

Heeseung had joined his wife upstairs, lying next to her and sharing a quiet goodnight before they turned off the bedside lamps.

It was always like this: completely silent, no conversation, no talking about the day, no intimacy, absolutely nothing.

Even if he did try to talk, she’d always say she was stressed or tired.

Another one of the reasons Heeseung didn’t feel guilty for having feelings toward you was that you gave him the time of day.

He sighs putting his hands behind his head and staring at the celling finally after an hour passed his wife was fast asleep so he silently slipped out of bed and went to the kitchen where the cupboard was located pulling out a bottle of liquor one he bought expressly for you cause you had been going on all week about wanting to take a shot on your 21st.

He snuck over to your room, knocking on it softly, knowing you’d still be up. You were always up late.

You sighed and got out of bed tossing your blanket to the side and ripping open the door ready to be faced with your mom and some more of her shenanigans. “Wha-“ you stopped mid-way through, shocked to see that it was actually your stepdad instead, and you were pleasantly surprised to see he was in nothing but his underwear and a shirt.

“Hey,” he laughs softly, waving a bottle of liquor in your face along with two shot glasses.

“H-hi,” you smile upon seeing the bottle.

“Are you gonna let me in? Or are you gonna wait for your mom to catch us?” He smirks and you open the door further to let him in…

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[walnut-tries-too-hard]

Session 6 double up info dump

Ok, so I'm obsessed with this idea. So it's time to share all of my thoughts on this headcannon.

There was a lot of panic, naturally. For one second, they're humans. The next, they're all knew hybrids.

Grian

-Grian had no idea that people's hybrid traits would be affected by the wild card.

-He knew that the animals would all be swapped but, when everything died, Skizz and Scar started freaking the fuck out because Grian all of a sudden didn't have wings.

-There were they dots, and then boom. He's a creeper like Doc.

-How Doc never exploded was an absolute mystery. Just the stress of Skizz and Scar alone nearly made him explode.

Renchanting

-Ren didn't immediately notice that he wasn't a dog. It was after Martyn started to freak tf out that he realized his hearing was VERY different. And he didn't have a tail.

-That was a fairly easy adjustment aside from this new strange instinct to fly??

-For Martyn, he suddenly had to keep himself very chill, lest he burn down their base. Again.

-Everytime Ren was a different hybrid he changed up his full title. Rather than Rendog; there was Renmoth, Rensheep/Renram, Renbird...ect.

-Those are actually all the differnent versions of Ren I went through trying to draw him.

-Martyn spent a lot of time with Tango trying to figure out how to handle the fire.

General/misc.

-Scott went from creaking, to human, to siren. Lovely whiplash. No flashbacks to limited life, what do you mean?

-Tango was struggling the whole session. He was already cold in the overworld but that was helped with jackets and all that. Now he was physically cold and he didn't know how to fix it. Why were overworlders so cold?!

-All of the lifers were used to being red with their typical hybrid traits. The red lives were a little more out of control than usual.

-Many people, such as Tango had to get used to not having a tail. His balance wasn't as bad as say...Impulse. He's a big guy, who'd depending on his tail far more than he thought.

-The very first change up Cleo got was being a dog. I guess you could say...DoggyCleo? (I'll see my way out). Scott jumped at the image of them as a human, as is. As a dog like Ren? Yeah, that was a surprise.

-Joel was just chilling then there was a poof around him and his ogre traits were gone. Not like he noticed. His wolves were dead.

-It was the same case for Bdubs. He was more focused on his horse. three dots and then it felt wrong to be in the sun. It even hurt a little bit. It took Joel looking over to realize he was looking at a phantom hybrid.

-People were willing to help each other to understand being a certain type of hybrid, like I said with Tango helping Martyn, and Scar definitely giving helpful advice to Joel.

-Sheep Ren at some point got stuck with goat Scar and bull Bdubs. They couldn't help from bonking into each other. Explained Zed, Beef, and Doc.

I'm obsessed with this idea, if you can't believe it.

Feel free to leave questions or request about this

[archiebaldo1414]

Picture it with me people

Season 16. Opens with Dean realizing Heaven isn’t good. He’s having these memories of him and Cas through the years and is just like ‘if this was heaven he’d be here’ type shit you know

Supportive Sam and him break out and try to go rescue Sam from the empty. Dean is depressed as hell as always, but he has a purpose now so he’s compartmentalizing, but we continue to see memories. At first, they were all bro-like shit (as much as Destiel ever can be so still romantic lmao) but it starts transferring into stuff we’ve never seen before.

A night in the Dean Cave just them and they keep just looking at each other. [the audience can’t tell if it’s sweet or if they are getting second hand embarrassment since Dean’s fucking 40 and Cas is billions of years old]

A time where Cas heard about the kiss it better thing and fucking DID IT when he cut his hand or some shit. We begin to realize they might have been slightly more aware of things that we were led to believe.

There’s more chill domestic stuff but the kiss it better thing comes up once or twice more. Enough to show us that’s one of their weird little rituals that no one knows about; but ITS A THING!!!

Cas is saved. There’s hugging and intense eye contact. Sam is there. He gets a hug too and suddenly they are having trouble looking at each other. Dean is distraught. He’s fucked up about feelings, he can’t voice this shit! He tried in purgatory but Cas didn’t let him, but now, now he can’t. He keeps trying to talk to him; Cas is sure to remind him he is okay and knows Dean doesn’t feel a certain way.

He’s frustrated. Why is Cas making this so difficult?? How does he have no clue? Surely he’s aware how he acts with Cas is VERY different to how he acts with everyone else/how everyone else acts with him?

It comes to him suddenly when he bangs his hip on the counter. As he swears (loudly) a little voice in his head is saying ‘Cas needs to kiss it better’. And then he knows. Since he was rescued, they’re little rituals have gotten infrequent and awkward. Cas doesn’t want to make Dean uncomfortable after all! He knows now!

Dean runs. Bangs on Sam’s door. Sam opens it, it’s late, he’s annoyed. “What, Dean, why do you look so excited?” He’s doing his bitch face

“Sammy, punch me in the mouth” he prepares himself for the punch, he can hardly stop grinning. He’s practically vibrating with excitement, the freak.

“Dean? What? Why would I punch you?” Sam is perplexed. He’s concerned. He would love to punch Dean (lol)

“I need you to. It’s important, please, Sam”

Eileen hears them and comes to the door as well. Sam explains what’s going on while Dean looks at her and pleads to punch him. She clearly realizes something Sam doesn’t becuase she starts cackling before winding back and punching him. Hard. His lip splits, and he grins around slightly bloody teeth before waving goofily and turning to go while Sam throws up his hands in frustration because What! The! Fuck!

Anyways. Dean marches down the hall. He’s nervous. He knocks. Cas answers. He looks down at Dean’s fucked up bloody mouth and is like Dean! What happened! Who must I kill! And Dean’s like it’s all good man but 😔👉👈it hurts

Cas is all; let me heal you…and Dean’s like OKAY THAT’S FINE WITH ME HA HA

There’s a bit of staring while Cas tries to figure out what’s going on and he slowly raises two fingers before Dean slowly pushes his hand down. He doesn’t let go of the loose grip on his wrist. His hands are shaking a bit. Cas is feeling a little rejected, he can’t even heal Dean now? But Dean is so close, and he’s still holding his wrist? Why is he shaking a bit? What’s go- oh. Oh oh oh oh

Cas very tentatively leans forward and presses tiny little delicate to Deans mouth as he heals him and cdjrjgfjejficsjtjvisjtv

Anyways they kiss a lot yay the end

dean: ow, fuck. i cut my finger.

cas: here, let me kiss it better.

dean, blushing furiously: oh- uh- okay.

[later]

dean: sammy, i need you to punch me in the mouth.

sam, already winding up: done.

[writingfromabox]

Alone on Thanksgiving? (adamsapple)

Working on a fic using this ad as a prompt because all I can think of is Adam making this post:

Not done yet but I think if I manage to finish it, I’ll put it on AO3. What I have written under the cut:

Adam had placed the ad out of sheer perverse humor, absolutely certain that no one would bother to call him on it. For a short while, he achieved some internet fame as people passed it around on social media, obviously getting a kick out of the idea. He’d joked around with the girls at the bar and tattoo parlor he worked at, saying his Thanksgiving plans were all wrapped up and this was the way he’d be swimming in pussy by the end of the month.

Obviously, the whole thing was meant as a fucking joke. So, when he got the email from a Charlotte Morningstar, he’d been tempted to send her back something rude about her reading comprehension. Like, was it not clear that this was comedy? The fuck. 

He showed it to Lute, who was in the middle of sketching out something for a client: a lion, holding a dagger in its mouth. Her skilled fingers easily traced out the minute details of the animal’s mane, her mouth set into a frown in concentration. The frown slipped into a wicked smirk as she read the email, her eyes lighting up slightly. 

“What’s the problem?” she asked, setting her pencil down and giving him an expression that attempted innocent curiosity. Lute’s face wasn’t made for that, and her sharp amusement made her look like a cat waiting on a mouse to walk into a trap. “I thought this was your big holiday plan. I thought you were looking forward to all the ladies with daddy issues and the ‘fuck you dad’ sex.”

Going to Lute for sympathy for his bad decisions never turned out right, but for some reason he kept trying it. He just grumbled and put the phone back in his pocket.

“Anyway, why not do it?” Lute asked, turning back to her sketch. “It’s free dinner. Your ass doesn’t have family to go to on Thanksgiving. I’m too busy this year to do our usual ‘neither of us can cook’ dinner. You’re extremely good at being an annoying asshole, why not turn it into a fun way to get free turkey?”

Adam folded his arms and tried to be more insulted about that accusation, but the wheels in his head were already turning. Unfortunately. It wasn’t even as though this would be the worst decision he’d made on a holiday, really. That would have been the time one of his biker friends convinced him to dress like the grinch and steal their ex-girlfriend’s Christmas tree. 

The night had ended in mayhem, with the tree sparking a minor electrical fire and Adam ending up tossing it into the outdoor pool. And then ripping off chunks of flaming grinch suit, screaming, as his accomplice hosed him down. 

Apparently, the ex-girlfriend’s kid still had nightmares from watching it out his bedroom window. 

Compared to that shitshow, this would only be a minor sort of shenanigan. Probably something he wouldn’t walk away with a property damage felony with. It wasn’t technically illegal to pick fights by antagonizing someone’s probably elderly, decrepit dad. Unless he, like, actually punched him. And Adam had some amount of self control as long as he didn’t dip into the recreational beverages. 

“Well? Figured out what you’re doing yet?” Lute asked, looking up at him from her spread out stack of sketches. Someone seemed to have ordered one of a goth bear holding a chainsaw. The holidays always brought out the weird shit.

He shrugged, mulling it over. The girl had a whole screed laid out, with a father who was being a dick about her attempts to house and reform former criminals. She’d gone on some rant about the program itself and he zoned out every time he tried to read it, the whole thing seemed like she was some kind of charity ball debutante getting pissy about her dad giving her some hard truths.

Not like it mattered either way to him, in the end, as long as he got a dinner. Adam would be lying if he said it didn’t sound like fun to fuck with someone and get rewarded for it. 

And so it came to pass that Adam decided to agree to be the fake dinner date of this do-gooder princess for Thanksgiving, with about the same amount of logical thought that went into his usual decision making. Which was to say, absolutely none. 

[xxlady-lunaxx]

on the rare occasion when sanemi’s mental health plummeted and he couldn’t take it, his feet guided him, the ache and the need for numbness coaxing the money over, lifting his hand as he took the sake. he drank and he drank until he was completely unconscious. he awoke with alcohol still strong in his system and, without much thought, he found himself on the way to gyomei’s estate. he often associated the man with something of comfort, although he couldn’t figure out why at the moment. neither could he figure out when he’d arrived, instead staring blankly at the door to gyomei’s house before realizing he had to knock. gyomei opened the door for him and allowed him entry, sensing far more than the sake and gruff greeting sanemi managed. they sat quietly inside after gyomei gave him a cup of water. then, abruptly, sanemi spoke. he was uncharacteristically vulnerable under the anesthesia of alcohol.

“you asked why i don’t talk to genya,” he stated, his eyes unfocused as he stared down at his cup. he took a sip. “didn’t answer, did i?”

gyomei hummed vaguely, not wanting to accidentally set sanemi off. he wasn’t sure how this man was like, once his guard was lowered. “i do not believe you did,” he agreed, though that certain conversation had happened weeks ago. genya was here, actually. he’d been training in the back when sanemi had arrived. undoubtedly, genya must be wondering what was taking so long.

sanemi nodded, downing the rest of his water. he put the cup down. then picked it up, fidgeting with it. his movement was loud in the silence of the room. “considering the circumstances,” he began, “is there really anything else i could do?”

“what do you mean?” gyomei asked, frowning. he heard a door opening, somewhere in the house. genya was getting restless, it seemed. or he was taking a break.

“my only objective for anything is…” sanemi paused, considering this. he started again, discarding his previous words. “most demon slayers objectives are to make sure other people can live normally. even if we can’t. right?”

gyomei made a noise of agreement. sanemi nodded.

“i’m no exception,” he remarked. “but, also, i am. it’s not like i don’t care about other people, but- i don’t ever think about them. when i need to be motivated to stay alive. you know? i do have other people i care about, like iguro or whatever. but he’s not why i’m doing this. i’m not why i’m doing this. nobody’s why i’m doing this.”

there was a lengthy pause. “then who is?” gyomei inquired. he shouldn’t be taking advantage of sanemi’s talkativeness, but he wasn’t the one who needed to hear it. he knew where this was going. genya did not.

sanemi sighed. he tossed his cup in the air, catching it in one hand. “genya. he’s not strong enough for the corps. he’ll survive a couple weeks, but he’s due to die eventually. or get too injured to keep going. i don’t get him. he’s got no reason to keep going, yet he clings onto the pathetic hope that he can do it. he should’ve opted to find some woman to marry. let him have children and make a family and forget all of this happened. if he wants to survive, that’s his best bet,” he said. he seemed to have thought it over many times before. enough so he knew it all, even under the muddled mindset he was sporting. “genya deserves better than to fight mutilated beasts every day. but i can’t kill them all for him. so he just has to leave.”

gyomei let this sink in for a long moment. “i believe,” he began, slowly, “that he wants to by your side.”

“wants?” sanemi scoffed. “he doesn’t know what he wants right now. but i know what he needs. he needs to stop chasing after me. i’m a lost cause. he’s not, yet. so he should take advantage of it before it’s too late. he’s an idiot.”

“i understand where you’re coming from,” gyomei reasoned. “but… you have to consider how he feels about it. does he want a life without his brother? is it really best for him?”

sanemi’s posture sunk, ever so slightly. he was trying to curl into himself. “not like i love the prospect, either,” he mumbled. “it’s just best for him. don’t want nothing more than that.”

gyomei let out a breath. “if you tried talking to him about it-“

before he could finish, sanemi cut in. “don’t be stupid, himejima, he hates me. he wouldn’t listen.”

gyomei was completely taken aback. “what? of course not. quite far from the truth, shinazugawa.” he was confused. “from where did you gain that aspect?”

“where? he hardly listens; won’t leave the corps when i tell him,” sanemi said, full of irritation suddenly.

“because he wants to stay by your side.”

“i don’t want it. i told you. it’s better if he’s not.”

“then explain it,” gyomei insisted. “he believes you’re the one who hates him.”

sanemi snorted, as if that was the most ridiculous thing ever. “that’d be like hating a newborn puppy because it can’t provide for itself. i don’t hate genya. but he has every reason to hate me.”

[obeymefanfiction]

Kiss or Dare: Leviathan

Obey me! Fanfiction (July 2020) see masterlist Featuring: Levi X Neutral Reader Word Count: 1800 Disclaimer: Characters are the rightful property of NNT Solemare Inc. “Shall We Date” Warnings: Kissing fluff/Angst Note: adapted from an old fanfiction of mine. “Hey Levi. What’s wrong?” You and Levi were playing video games during a lazy afternoon. Usually Levi loved times like this, but your question made him jump. Crap! You noticed? He’d been trying to keep you from noticing how anxious he was! “Ah nothing, I’m just… off or something today.” Levi lied rubbing the back of his neck in agitation. He didn’t want to tell you about what happened earlier. About how Mammon promised to return his money if he… er… well… k-kissed you.

When he was talking to the big dummy of a brother of his he thought at the time it wouldn’t be that big of deal. You two were close so you wouldn’t take it the wrong way or anything… right? You’d be cool with one… k-kiss. You knew his heart was totally set on Ruri-Chan and… and even though he loved it when you leaned close enough for your hair to brush against his cheek—selfies were a must now between you—or those times when he wondered why you smelled better than a new game arriving in the mail. Not to mention he’d observed your lips appeared particularly soft and appealing. He was certain if he touched— No. This was a bad idea. What if you did get offended? Or if you did take him seriously? He didn’t know if he could handle that. At first he thought he could just explain—but that never went well in all of the magna he had read! What if you took it the wrong way and he… lost you? That’d be worse than losing Henry 2.0. He wasn’t sure he could handle that. It was bad enough that he had to share you with his brothers so much of the time. You’d become like his side kick the past few weeks. He’d come to just expect you to stick around and… He couldn’t lose you. Levi jolted to attention when your hand reached up and pushed back his bangs allowing your fingers to brush against his forehead. The sudden contact with your gentle warmth left him speechless as his eyes widened and turned to search yours for an explanation. “Nope, you don’t seem to have a fever. Do you need some water or something? Are you feeling dehydrated? Hungry?” Levi blinked at you. Oh. You touched him to check his temperature? Wow. He liked that. He really liked that. In fact his face was suddenly burning hot and he wanted to go take a swim with Henry. He released an unsteady breath before attempting to talk to you. “I’m not sick. Mammon just said something that upset me.” “Oh no! Why didn’t you tell me Levi? I’m sorry. Maybe we should be watching a Ruri Chan movie instead to help you feel better?” Oh you were the best human in the entire world, weren’t you?

Levi cut that thought off mid “beam” and tried to focus on now. “No, it’s fine. He just talked me into something when I should have said no. I hate it when he does that. He’s such a—” “What is he making you do?” You sigh sympathetically. With those big beautiful eyes looking at you and your kind smile and you sitting so close he couldn’t help feeling how much you cared about him. “He said he’d pay me back all of my money he owes me. I just have to do one thing first.” “Oh Mammon.” You groaned. “Levi, you shouldn’t have to do anything to get your money back. It was yours to begin with.” “I know, but what he asked me to do didn’t sound so bad. I thought it’d be fine. Then I thought about it some more and how so many things could go wrong and I’m not sure I can do it now.” Levi gave a defeated sigh to the controller in his lap. “What did he ask you to do? Maybe I can help?” You volunteered. Oh no. He couldn’t tell you. Uh oh! Levi began to panic. This was going to go wrong. He knew it was. He just knew it. “Nothing. I’m-uh-not going to do it. I’ll just figure something else out. So, forget it.” His face felt like it was on fire as he turned his back to you. “Leeeeeeviii! I can’t help if you don’t tell me what it is. If it’s too ridiculous I volunteer to go yell at Mammon for you and get your money back.” “You… you’d do that?” Levi felt a glimmer of hope. Maybe you wouldn’t have to get mad at him? Maybe he could just explain how dumb he thought it was and you’d laugh? Maybe— “He told me to kiss you.” The words just came out. As soon as they did Levi wanted to clap his hands over his mouth and flee the room. You went perfectly still. Well except for your eyes of course. Those went wide and seemed to be getting wider the longer he looked at you. He realized he needed to say something else. He needed to tell you all the reasons this was upsetting him so you wouldn’t think he was—well—as dumb as he felt at the moment. Nothing happened. He couldn’t get any words out. Not with you staring at him like that. Oh no. How could he say anything to you now? Crap crap crap crap crap!! “Levi… um… I can tell you’re uncomfortable with this. Is that because you wouldn’t… want to?” “Wouldn’t want to?” He echoed your words. “I—uh—wouldn’t want to if you didn’t want me to __. That’s why I’m upset. If it made things weird between us. I didn’t want to do it. Even if it did convince Mammon to give me back my money.” “So… you were nervous because you didn’t want to upset me? Awe Levi! You are so awesome.” Your expression softened and wave of relief washed over him. You weren’t mad? You understood why he was so upset over this? Oh he felt so much better now. Especially because—oh wow—you were now hugging him. It was too much but not enough and his heart was pounding and you smelled so good and— “I’m not sure how I got so lucky to have you as my otaku. I’m the luckiest human ever.” Your words made him blush harder and he tried to think of something to say. Compliments were obviously out because he’d mess them up. Maybe he could suggest the two of you could watch that Ruri-Chan movie and turn this afternoon around? He gulped and found the courage to hug you back. Your hair brushed against his cheek summoning a smile, and the words finally started to come. “You’re just really important to me. I feel like you’re the only normie that gets me and if I made you upset over something like this…” Levi shrugged. “Thanks for understanding. I’ll just go tell Mammon to give me my money back and we can forget about this.”

“Oh. So, you didn’t…” You pulled back and your gaze dropped. Wait, why did your gaze just drop away from his? Did you want to? Nah. Not with a yukky Otaku like him. So what was bothering you? “__? I thought you weren’t upset about this?” “No, I-I’m not. You’re right, Mammon shouldn’t have suggested it. I just thought… I thought it was really sweet you cared about how I felt. I didn’t realize you wouldn’t---well want—um—to kiss me.” Wow. Levi didn’t know you could turn that shade of red. “I was thinking you might, I guess, and I was really happy that you might. That’s all.” “Wait… you’re saying you’d want me to?” You shrug still blushing fiercely. “Not necessarily because Mammon told you to. But if you did because you wanted to I… I’d like that. I just never thought you’d want to, so when you sounded all upset that I might get upset over it I thought—maybe that was because you might like to kiss me too?” Too. Too? As in you would want him to kiss you… also. He didn’t think he could possibly blush to death but just now it felt like it might happen. “So, you would…” “Only if you would… but yeah.” “And it wouldn’t be weird?” “Not weird at all.” Huh. It certainly felt weird already. Would kissing you just make it worse? Or worse would not kissing you make you think he lied about wanting to kiss you? Oh man! Why did he ever agree to this? He was never speaking to Mammon again once he got his money back. “Levi you don’t have—” You broke off when his gaze crashed into yours. You were already so close and looked so confused. As confused as he felt. He wasn’t sure how it happened—if you leaned in or he did—but the warmth of your mouth against his was… it was… wow. Levi’s eyes slid closed and he couldn’t resist leaning closer. Allowing his lips to brush over yours in a gentle caress that you echoed. Your mouth tasted so sweet and soft and… wow you smelled even better when he was this close to you. When he felt your tongue brush curiously against his lips his mind seemed to go haywire. He couldn’t resist moving closer. Holding you against him, feeling your warmth, letting his tongue seek out yours and tangle with it in a heated dance. Then you moaned and he nearly lost all sense of reason as he rolled on top of you. Laying you back so he could kiss you more—taste you more. He wanted to kiss you until he knew every sensitive place in your mouth, every curve of your tongue and your lips. The warmth of your hands cupped his face and you whispered his name against his lips. “Levi?” His eyes opened slowly. Taking in your beautiful expression. Your smile and the warm glow in your eyes. “I guess I wasn’t the only one who wanted that.” “No, you weren’t.” “Are you going to tell Mammon?” You raised an eyebrow teasingly and he felt the burning heat run up the back of his neck at the thought. At last he shook his head. “No way. I’m not dealing with him right now. Not when I could be here with you.” “Good answer.” You leaned up and captured his mouth again with yours. Soon he was too encompassed by the warmth of your kiss to think of anything else.

[newkatzkafe2023]

The BALLADS OF SUN WUKONGS🐒👑

Yandere Monkey king harem x Manipulative Queen reader

Chapter 4 the Youthful indiscretions Part 1👼

The day begins with Queen Y/n as she makes her way to the mall, you had gotten off a date with Aizen Cai one of the suitors and boi was watching paint dry more exciting then the date you had with him. The public library really man? But anyway, now it's time to blow off some steam

We stretched out and began our shopping 🛍 Meanwhile a familiar group of monkey men stalked us to the mall and saw we went inside a banana republic first. LMK Wukong, NR Wukong, Netflix Wukong, BMW Wukong, and Mk Reborn Wukong. Mk reborn was dressing up his baby son Fruity up in a tiny school boy outfit.

(BMW Wukong) Ok, I don't quite understand. Why are we using specifically Fruity to spy on y/n???🤔🤨

(MKR Wukong) Well...because Silly girl's to young😒

(NR Wukong) Li is to old😅

(Netflix Wukong) Lin can take care of herself 🙂

(Lmk Wukong) Mk would get us exposed faster then a social media platform 😓

(MKR Wukong) and we don't think HIB Wukong would appreciate us using Luier to get with a girl, so Fruity is literally our only option🙄

(BMW Wukong) ummm ok but that doesn't tell me what the plan is???🤨

(Lmk Wukong) The plan is for Fruity to pretend to be a lost child and when his crys get y/n's attention, she'll go over and tend to him and that way while she's helping him we'll get more info on her😄

(BMW Wukong) Ok, good idea and all, but why is he in a school boy outfit😑

(MKR Wukong) To up the cute factor duh🙄, Ok son here she comes just work your chi magic and remember what we practiced😊

(Fruity) Yay i won't let you down baba😙

Fruity then waddled out to the middle of the mall, then sat on the ground pretending to cry

(Fruity) Wahhh!!!!!!😭😭😭😭

Immediately, you felt your ears twitch and quickly looked over to see a tiny, adorable little fruit boy sitting and crying on the ground, and immediately you ran over to him

(Y/n) Awww what's the matter little gummy bean, are you ok???🥺

(Fruity) Wahhhh, I'm lost, wahhhh I can't find my baba 😭😭😭

You frowned at this predicament and put your paw out for Fruity to climb on, but as soon as you did, you noticed something Furry and sharp in the corner of your eye. You spot a familiar tail belonging to a certain extremely violent monkey

With a smirked as you came up with an idea of your own, you then looked down at Fruity and calmed him down, and began to speak with him

(Queen y/n) Don't worry little man, I'll take you to front desk security, maybe we'll run until your baba on the way😈😇

(Fruity)(sniffling) O-okk i-im fruity😢

(Queen y/n) Hewwo Fruity My name is y/n😇(whispering) but you can call me mama😈

Fruity nodded and calmed down Meanwhile with the monkey kings

(MKR Wukong)(whispering) Yes! She took the cute fruity bait, but she's on the move now 😏

(Lmk Wukong)(whispering) alright gang Let's get a move on then😁

Then you took off with fruity through out the mall, with the monkey kings following close behind to collect info on how to win you over, the first store we went to is Swarovski as the watched you buy something but they couldn't make out what it was

(NR Wukong) Ah Swarovski their known for selling real diamonds jewelry 💎

(BMW Wukong) Agreeded

(MKR Wukong) But what did she buy though🤨

(Lmk Wukong) Can't say, I'm using my eyes of truth but I still can't see it😠

(Netflix) We'll figure it out later. Right now, she's leaving😣

Then the monkeys followed you to Bloomingdale's to make some returns

(Netflix Wukong) Ah so she likes to Bloomingdale's?

(BMW Wukong) Yes of course

Then we went to other stores like Ulta, Hot topic, banana republic, Sephora and more. As the monkey kings continued to follow you thoughtout the mall and finally you arrived to the front desk security.

(Queen Y/n)(cooing) Ok little fruit here's the security, I hope your baba will come and find you😚

(Fruity) Ok thank you mama Bye☺️

You had waved goodbye to the little Fruity fairy and left for home, secretly smirking as you left. Afterwords, the monkey kings waited a bit as they watched you leave the mall before MKR Wukong ran over to hug Fruity.

(MKR Wukong) FRUITY! YOU DID SUCH A GOOD JOB BUD😄

(Fruity) Yay I did good?!😆

(MKR Wukong) You did! You did!😁

(NR Wukong) And thanks to this little guy, we have more material and info to use to get Y/n to fall in love with us🥰

(BMW Wukong) YES LET'S GO BACK TO FLOWER FRUIT MOUNTAIN TO CELEBRATE 🥳

(Lmk Wukong) we should tell HIB and the destined one, about our findings too😃

As the monkey kings left the mall excitingly as the monkey men changed and discussed the notes and observations they made, as they brainstormed ideas and plans.

(Netflix Wukong) But Wait did anybody ever found out what Y/n bought from the Swarovski store??😥

You stood on the roof of the mall looking, looking down at the cute monkey men ad the practically ran out of there

(Queen Y/n)(giggling) Aww their so cute when they think their slick😈

You smirked looking at your new crystal peach🍑😈

FEEL FREE TO REBLOG😈

[florainkingdom]

"Nothing to gain in all honesty, expect maybe for the fact if a certain specter attempts to weasel their way in this universe, she can incinerate whoever they try to send here in an instant. Other than that, it just comes down to the fact that I could possibly help so I figured I should offer it." Blitz only needed permission to slightly alter Blaze's timeline so anything else was simply him wanting to try and help.

"Well, I certainly hope he made this caretaker powerful as well. It wouldn't be very wise to leave something that can control all of time without someone strong enough to crush anyone trying to control it." If the time God of here was as smart as Morpheus made him seem then wouldn't be surprised if the caretaker was packing some serious fighting power.

"It's not that I don't have a need for it, I'm just storing up energy. Even as we speak it's building up, higher and higher. It's not something most look out for, though if you look closely enough, you'll see me slowly soaking up cosmic energy. If things go well, I'll have a rather powerful ace up my sleeve for when things get real crazy in the universe that I'm from." Seemed he was gearing up for something big.

Blitz didn't seem phased by the voice as he looked up at Sol, and then having to look down a bit, though still up. "I was expecting something intense. I don't mind if you chill in your true form. I'd do the same thing if I had a crazy cosmic form, though this is the only one I've ever had since I'm not your typical primordial. If I don't end up kicking the bucket down the line, I'll tell you about it." Blitz better move on to business.

"Only name I got is Blitz, mainly because I can't remember my own. As for why I'm here, the God of Time from my universe needs to make a small adjustment to Blaze's timeline, only because it sorta crosses with Poppy's now. Nothing crazy, just the time Poppy ended up here which would add more detail to what life was like in Flora. Also, if you can make it so she does remember the unaltered timeline that'd be cool. I'd rather her not we did that."

"That's about the only thing I really need your help on. Other than that, if you'd like I can help restore your flame back to its prime. I also know a guy who can hopefully make you a physical body to connect to so you can freely and safely check on things easily. Oh, and if you want, I can throw a few tests at Blaze to improve her skills. Nothing crazy or dangerous, though it'll push her. She could also land the Forger making her a divine weapon."

His eyes seemed to gaze off into the distance as the other spoke of aiding Sol. They really did not understand her, then again he wasn't sure he understood her either. She was the flame of life, and she gave herself to her world to keep it teaming with life. He knew one day she might cease and when she did all things would cease, and when the last mortal ceased to be so to would he. He was content with that... as he was sure his sister was.

" I can not speak for my sister, or what she wishes and does not wish, nor do i believe it my place to speak on this matter. But you seem very willing to aid her, what is it you would gain from this? Is it true altruism or do you desire something in return? "

Her chuckled at the mention of time ceasing should there own god of time perish. It wasn't so different from there world. It was just that the old codger had thought of that eons ago.

" Ah our world isn't so different... Without a god of time our own time would come to a full stop. Yet the old man was quite cunning and always knew a day could come when he perished... tis why he built the great clock. For the clock keeps time... and its caretaker tends the clock. Thus time continues even though he is gone... though, i do not know if he is dead... he disappeared a long time ago... "

Restrictions? Ah he must mean some sort of law or self imposed rule that allowed them to easily travel between universes. In essence rules and by laws gods must follow, unlike Demi-Gods like Blaze who still retained a mortal soul, and thus not bound by those rules. Those primals like himself could not simply jump to another reality! Unless a god of that realm were dead and even then---there were rules to it and a world and its gods had to accept that god.

" I see, Well i doubt you'll find a need to use such powers at least i pray not. Here in my realm least of all, i trust you will behave as well. As for Sol... by now she is aware of our arrival. I suspect she will arrive any moment..."

It was almost as if he had summoned her, as a figure walked from the great forest in the distance. A small dot at first, yet the shimmering figure of a feline stepped ever closer. Her fur seemed to shift and move as if made of living flame. Her hair weaving in the air as it danced about her. Her long tail swayed the tip pulsing with blue fire, even her clothing was made of a pyre around her body as it flickered and flowed around her. Her steps seared the ground yet, from the turned and scorched earth sprung life as it rapidly grew behind her. her eyes were white pits of pure light. She stood nearly 8 and half feet in height as she towered over them.

" Brother... "

Her voice echoed across the island, and despite this merely being her dream vessel she exuded a power that pulsed through you, as if her mere presence was enough to bend reality around her.

" It seems i have a guest... oh, I'm being rude though... "

She closed her eyes and her form changed and shifted taking on a form closer to blazes. She often mirrored her daughters mortal form as it did seem to put others more at ease. Though she was still quite tall at 6 foot, and towered over her brother by a wide margin.

" That should be less--- intense, so To whom do i have the pleasure of addressing, and why hath you sought me out... "

[stuckinapril]

Went from being totally lost as a teenager to finding solace in aesthetics and fitting urself into a template in my late teens and now I think I struck a healthy intermediate where I know who I am as a person generally but I’m also completely subscribed to the idea of evolving and would never deny trying something just bc it doesn’t fit the image of myself I crafted in my head

[thedreadvampy]

sometimes I forget that my experience has been. um. not 'your experiences are not universal' vibes but more like 'your experiences are EXTREMELY atypical'

[skunkes]

i dont like when character being blunt/having no filter = character just being Mean, and im trying to find a good balance with that for Talon. I guess it's not that hard since he's not an (active) overthinker and I have drawn him saying things he considers neutral that seem rude to others...I guess I have to find a way to show the opposite, too

[al-luviec]

still haven't moved on from zane in this episode (aka I hit tag limit again and am unhappy about it)