#this is basically me talking to myself but it doesn't feel right to write it in my phone that's for more poetic stuff

[running-in-the-dark]

the thing is. I've said many times that it'd probably be better if I didn't post on here so much, especially when I'm not doing so great. it does not feel good. but. when I don't, it just all stays inside my head and it feels so much worse for far longer, so I really just don't know how I would cope without this.

[abitofouterspace]

.

[kaijuposting]

"Saw traps for people with moral OCD" is a phrase that has embedded myself into my brain because, well, Saw traps for people with moral OCD are everywhere.

Stuff that basically amounts to...

"You have to listen to my opinions on [issue], or else you don't care about [issue]. (Constantly talks about how people like you are the absolute worst.)"

Anything that's functionally like, "you have to let me tear you down over things you can't control or you're a bad person."

Anything that's functionally like, "you have to let me vent to you whenever and however I want or else you're a bad person."

"If you enjoy X media/trope, you just hate Y people."

"Everyone knows that X thing is harmful/hateful; if you engaged in it, it's just because you were fine with perpetuating hate/harm."

"You should have just known better/should know this already!"

This thread over here talks about the inherent issues of putting this kind of stuff out there. The TL;DR is that it really only works on people who are mentally unwell and have poor boundaries, while just pissing off everyone else. It really doesn't matter if you're technically correct; you're still attacking people, and that means they're not wrong to block you.

I think that many of these Saw traps are created when people effectively write posts directed toward people who don't want to help, rather than the ones who do. Like, if you catch yourself writing an angry, shame-laden post, ask yourself: who are you writing it for and what are the odds you're going to change their minds? If your mental image is some smug fuck or angry reactionary, you're writing for the wrong person. Write for the person who's curious, who's willing to learn.

Also? Work on figuring out how to transmute negative feelings into positive, encouraging rhetoric. EG:

"Why is there no X positivity?" -> "Let's hear it for X!"

"No one cares about Y problem!" -> "Hey, we need more recognition of Y problem" or "I haven't seen many people talking about Y problem, so here's some info on what's up."

"If you don't reblog this, you don't care about [group]" -> "Please reblog this, it would mean a lot for us [group]."

And if you're really super duper frustrated and want to vent with a lot of nasty words and sentiments? Consider taking it to a private vent channel or a journal or somewhere that a stranger with moral OCD/scrupulosity isn't likely to run across it.

Remember, most people don't want to hurt anyone. More people are ignorant than malicious. People naturally want to do the right thing, so if you feel like you have to guilt them or shame them into it, there's probably a fundamental communication issue somewhere, or they simply lack the context to understand why what you're saying is so important.

[cutebat]

You know what, fuck it. I'm going to write my own neglectful yandere batfamily cause everyone else is doing it, but I'm going to do it in a different way.

Yandere Batfam x Neglected, but Defiant Reader

Prologue (Diary Entry)

Warning(s): Mentions of yandere themes, neglect, emotional abuse, mentions of physical abuse, forcing to drop out, attempted guilt tripping, reader is just venting out her feelings

(I made this in the reader's POV to make the whole 'diary entry' thing more sense.)

~~~~~

July 22, 2024

It's funny when someone tells their story.

Only to be told back that it's unrealistic.

Almost as if they're afraid to believe it's real...

Oh, God, that sounded dark.

~~~~~

For everyone who doesn't know,

Bruce is a billionaire who's also a shitty dad

Dick is a dick, like actually

Jason uses his trauma to let all his frustrations on me

Tim is a delusional bitch

Cass was okay until she knocked me to the ground

Damian is just a thing who you want to burn to ashes

Alfred... I guess is just Alfred

~~~~~

I was basically raised as what people would call a 'black sheep'. Kind of like... actually, I don't need to explain all that.

Basically, I was adopted by the infamous Bruce Wayne when I was ten for whatever reason. After the first day of living with him and the family and giving me the new role of Batgirl, everyone just pretended as if I didn't exist.

I tried to interact with every one of them and all I got were "sorry, can't talk right now" and "can you shut up".

Like, WHAT THE FUCK DID I DO TO THEM?!

Is it because I'm prettier than all of them and had barely any trauma in my past? Seriously, why are people so jealous about these kinds of things?

Bruce really signed all that paperwork for nothing.

Of course, my little ten year old brain would think that if I tried to impress all of them with what I could do, maybe I could gain their attention.

So by the time I was twelve with my ten year old mindset goal in my head, I did nine different after school activities, won over fifteen awards for my achievements, and went out to patrol at least six nights a week.

And none of that worked! Those fuckers wouldn't even spare me a glance!

~~~~~

After a while, you don't see a point in trying your best.

I dropped out of most of the clubs I regret joining, I just laid back in my classes, and most of all...

I quit being Batgirl.

I didn't want to, but like I said, where's the point in that?

So with that, I just gave up on everything and just... stopped trying.

~~~~~

But then one year all of that almost changed?

For the first time ever, I found myself suddenly really pretty, and after a month I entered eighth grade, I was suddenly asked out by one guy, then two, and all the way up to ten!

It was like really cool!

The popular girls became my best friends, more guys would ask me out, and the teachers started pointing out that I was their favorite student, even the ones who weren't my teachers.

It felt like I was on top of everything. That I was special. The world is revolving around me.

Finally, I was in a place to build a great reputation.

And then life was like FUCK THAT!

~~~~~

After the first semester of eighth grade, Bruce was weirdly in my room and he said wanted to have a 'talk' with me.

So, during this talk, he was basically talking about the last three years of me being neglected by him and his family. To be honest, I forgot everything he told me, but honestly, I don't really care.

He also told the others about all this and now they suddenly feel bad which I don't give a shit about. But, I knew he was doing all this to guilt trip me, which was honestly so stupid.

Now, after he dropped that bomb, he told me that I had to drop out of school to do some "bonding time" with the others along with him and the people who actually cared about me didn't really matter at all!

I JUST GOT SETTLED IN!

All I said was "FUCK YOU" and just stormed out of my room with the only thing that I took was my diary that I had for quite a while that I never used before.

~~~~~

So, yeah. I'm currently in the attic, venting my feelings all out on this stupid glitter diary with a random pen that I found on the ground.

But whatever.

It doesn't matter.

Nothing matters...

My life is just a game.

A sick, hopeless game.

[leaentries]

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SYNOPSIS: just luke really loving his girl’s tits

WARNINGS: smut, basically no plot, dry humping, tit sucking (?), boobjob, luke likes to dirty talk a wee bit, a whole lot of praise bc who doesn't want to be luke's good girl?, cursing

WORDCOUNT: 1.47k+

MESSAGE FROM ME: howdy my loves! this is my first writing since coming off my hiatus so bare with me please! i’m slowly but surely coming back and will be posting more often so be on the lookout! + feel free to hit up my inbox and chat with me or send in your smutty lil thoughts! 🧚‍♀️

══════════

“Oh, fuck.”

“Shh, Jack’s gonna hear us, pretty girl.” Luke’s voice came in a hushed whisper as his breath hit against your ear.

Your hips buck against his thigh as it slotted between your own. Luke’s body pressed into your plushy one, pinning you to the wall of his room. You bit your lip in attempt to stop the moan threatening to escape at the friction against your swollen clit.

Your head tilted up, desperately searching for the respite that is Luke’s warm lips. The pure, unbridled need that churned deep in your gut gained control over every rational thought you could have wished to conjure up.

“So needy,” He mumbled, dipping his head to fulfill your wants.

You couldn’t help the small moan from escaping your throat as his lips clashed with yours. Luke’s tongue immediately licked at your own, savoring the taste of desperation mixed with the flavor of your lip balm. His hands gripped at your hips, guiding them in a gentle motion across his thigh.

“Please, Lukey,” Your voice came out as a broken plea.

“Please what, baby? What do you need?” He smirked against your lips, knowing how wound up you’d been after he left you high and dry before he and Jack left for morning skate.

“Need you,” You pant.

Luke felt his resolve breaking at the sight of your wide eyes gazing up at him. He could feel the way your breasts pressed harder against his front with each gasp for breath. He groaned, his eyes shutting briefly.

“You’re killing me here, pretty girl.” He says, opening his eyes and bending slightly to be level with you. “Pressing these…” He pauses for a moment, stooping lower to suck open mouthed kisses to the top of your ample cleavage, “Gorgeous tits against me.”

Your head lulled back against the wall with a low ‘thump.’ His hands traveled from your hips to slip under the material of your low-cut sweatshirt. He eagerly pushed it up, only separating from you in order to remove the soft fabric.

“Want these in my mouth,” Luke rasps, gazing down at you as his calloused hands cup your soft breasts, “You’ll let me have them, right, angel?”

You felt yourself nodding mindlessly, the thought of his lips around your stiff nipples sending jolts through your body. Luke carefully guided you to the bed, pulling you onto his lap.

“Arch your back a little,” He instructed lowly, one of his hands pushing at the middle of your back. He smiled as your breasts perked up further, now directly in front of his face. “Good girl.”

The praise buzzed through your bones, settling deep in your gut along with the warm feeling of arousal. Your eye fluttered closed the second his lips wrapped around the first peaked bud, swirling with intent. Your hands grasped at his shoulders for stability while Luke’s splayed possessively on your back.

“Oh, Lukey,” You breathed out, your hips rutting against his prominent bulge.

He groaned at the pleasure, the vibrations traveling through your breast. You yelped as his hand came down harshly on your ass.

“What did I say about being quiet?” He mumbled against you.

You let out a shaky breath, biting your lip as he bucked his hips to meet your movements. With the way he sucked on your nipples, paired with his clothed cock dragging deliciously against your throbbing core, you found yourself struggling to stay quiet.

Luke removed his mouth, gazing up at you, “Are you going to keep those pretty sounds in? Or do I need to keep you quiet myself?”

You felt yourself blush at his question. However, you quickly answer it by letting out a loud whine as his cock presses up against your clit.

“Thought so,” Luke mumbles, bringing up one of his hands to cover your mouth. He takes your nipple back into his mouth, biting slightly. You could feel your eyes flutter closed at the joint pleasure and pain. Luke switches to the other tit, giving it the same attention. In tandem, his hips maintained the pace against yours, his own moans muffled into your supple skin. He eventually pulls off, his chest heaving.

"Let me fuck these pretty tits, baby," He practically begs, his voice cracking with need, "Please?"

The sound of dripping sex poured from his voice, and you quickly found yourself scrambling to rest on your knees as he pushed down his sweats, revealing his swollen cock. You had to hold back a whine at the sight of his angry red tip leaking precum, the pearly white bead having your mouth ache with emptiness.

Luke wrapped his hand around the base, groaning softly, "Spit on my cock," He commands, "Be a good girl for me, angel." You immediately oblige, getting his cock slick enough to glide through your cleavage. "Such a good fucking girl, aren't you? Now, push those gorgeous tits together."

You let Luke nestle his cock in the valley of your breasts as you push them together snugly. He takes his bottom lip between his teeth as he slowly begins to thrust up into the warm plush. "Oh god, pretty girl," He groans out, "These tits were fucking made for me."

You whine at his crude words, your cunt dripping with arousal at this point. Shifting on your knees to try and gain some form of relief, Luke's eyes bore over your form intensely.

"Does my sweet girl need something?" He coos down at you as he continues his leisurely pace.

You nod desperately, "Uh-huh...h-hurts, Lukey" You whimper out. Luke tilts his head as he does his best to manage control of his breathing with the sheer amount of pleasure that is being shot through his cock.

"Yeah, baby?" He pants, "Reach down and rub your clit f'me." He says, bringing his hands to help you hold your generous boobs together. He watches your movements with sharp eyes, his breathing stuttering the second you begin to rub at your swollen bud. "Atta girl," He smirks as his breath comes out in short bursts, "Lettin' me use her like the perfect girl she is."

You whine at the praise, your lip slotting between your teeth as you move your fingers in small figure-8s. Luke's head falls back, his adam's apple bobbing as he swallows thickly. You can tell by the way his abs clench that he's beginning to near that precipice of pleasure.

"Just like that, baby, rub faster for me. Want you to cum with me," He grits out, his chest tensing as a sheen layer of sweat coats his pale skin.

"G-gonna cum f'you...be your good girl," You mumbled mindlessly, too lost in the strumming beginnings of your climax to keep your mouth shut.

Luke smiled, "You are, pretty girl," He praised, "All mine, baby. Always such a good girl."

Your fingers continue their movements bringing you teetering on the edge, but you don't let yourself tip over into that blissful state just yet, wanting to wait for Luke to give you permission. "Fuck, fuck fuck," You murmur under your breath.

Luke thrusts up into your tits at an unrelenting pace, chasing his oncoming high, "F-fuck, baby, be a good girl and cum for me. Cum for me now, sweet girl."

Not wasting another moment, you tip over into the surging waves of pleasure. Your hips buck against your hand, thighs clenching from the intense stimulation. "Oh, Luke, Luke, Lukey" You chant as your eyes squeeze shut.

"Fuck, that's it, baby," He pants, his own high hitting him like a train at the sound of his name falling from your swollen lips, "Gonna cum all over these pretty tits," He mumbles, his mouth dropping open in a low moan as he paints your chest, neck, and lower face with his finish. His pace falters, abs tensing with the aftershock of his orgasm. His chest heaves as he drops his hands from your breasts, letting his softening cock slip out from its place.

You gaze up at him, eyes glazed over in euphoria. His features soften as he takes in your state. "C'mon, pretty girl, let me clean you up." He says, pulling you gently from the floor and helping you sit back against the pillows before grabbing a warm cloth. Luke carefully wipes away the evidence of both your orgasms, before joining you on the bed. His arms wrap around your body, tucking your head under his chin as he strokes your back lovingly.

"You did so good for me, angel," He soothes softly, "My perfect girl."

You smile, humming contently as you snuggle closer to his chest. However, the moment is short-lived before the sound of a door opening echos through the room.

"You guys really couldn't have at least warned me first?"

Luke's laugh rumbled through his chest as you gasped softly, "We forgot about Jack!"

[coco-loco-nut]

Hii!

Can I please ask for an angsty fic with Max, where the reader defends him from Jos after not finishing his race in Melbourne...idk if you remember when Max kept his helmet for four hours after a race because he was afraid of what Jos would have done to him after not winning...and the reader basically tells Jos to get lost even if she's like 5'4 and definitely not as intimidating as them both lol.

And then maybe after the win in Suzuka, they "reconcile" but she still reminds him to act right around her boyfriend, who's now a man and not a little boy he could pressure like he once did.

Sorry if it's too long!! Thanks for taking your time and reading my request!

Guard Dog

Pairing: Max x Reader

Summary: You are sick and tired of watching Max take Jos' shit

TW: verbal abuse

A/n: thank you soooo much for the rec, I love writing these out so much <3

requests open masterlist

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

"Maxie... are you okay?" you wait patiently by the door to his driver's room, careful not to barge in like Jos would, as you have for the past year since you first witnessed Jos' beratement of his son. He is sitting on the couch with his helmet between his hands. The fire causing an unpleasant start to the race, and you are just glad you got here first.

"I'm okay," his voice cracks and you step into the room, closing the door behind you. "I know it wasn't my fault, but I can't help but feel like it was my fault," Max looks in your eyes, the fire brewing behind them. You were genuinely the sweetest girl he's ever met, and to get you mad took a lot. God help you if Jos shows up, you are tired of Max feeling bad even when he podiums.

"You're right, you didn't do anything wrong, the car failed you today," you stay calm, sitting beside him and cuddling into him. Max stays quiet, enjoying your warmth, and decompressing from the start. He can understand why the fans were so happy to see him lose, in fact, if he wasn't himself, he would join them. No, the fear of his father is what has him on edge. Rightfully so, because a few seconds later the door is slammed open again.

"Max, what the hell did you-" Jos starts and you launch yourself off the couch. Jos and Max were big guys, and you were average height for a woman, 5'6 or so, but you didn't seem like it in that moment.

"Shut the hell up and leave. You have nothing useful to say and you are going to shift blame to Max who had NO fault in the DNF," you snarl, setting yourself up as a barrier between the two, Jos still in the doorway and Max on the couch.

"Girl, I don't know who you think you are, but I am Max's father, and I can-," You cut Jos off before he can continue.

"No, you aren't his father. A father doesn't talk to his son like that, you are simply a man who shares the same last name as Max. A father is someone like Carlos Sainz Sr or Lawrence Stroll. No, you are a man- sorry a boy in a man's body- who can't cope with the fact that he doesn't race anymore and wants the man who shares the same last name with him to be impossibly perfect and win every single race, even when the car breaks down." You sneer at the man. "You need to leave, before I call security and make them remove you," you don't back down, instead you step closer. Max watches in both awe and fear.

"I-"

"Leave, Jos, now. Don't make me repeat myself," you say, practically slamming the door behind him. You turn around and look at Max, seemingly calm and normal. He looks at you bewildered.

"That was the sexiest thing ever. Thank you, Schatje, you didn't have to do that," Max hugs you, a large weight off of his shoulders.

"Of course I did, who else will be your guard dog?" You smile at him, squeezing him tighter. "Now, get changed and get back to the garage," you tell Max, stepping out to the room. You let out a deep breath, surprised with how you treated Jos and stood up for Max. A couple minutes later, Max rejoins you, quickly stopping inside hospitality for a snack.

The two of you avoid Jos, going extremely low contact, not that he was trying to. Jos would never admit it, but he was embarrassed at how you spoke to him, and his retreat allowed him to ignore it. Instead, you and Max enjoyed your time together in Japan. The both of you were aware Jos was there, but chose to ignore it. After Max won, Jos warily approached the two of you.

"I wanted to congratulate you on winning. You drove well," Jos says stiffly, silently calling for a truce. You let Max take the lead on the conversation.

"Thank you," he says, feeling like a little boy again, but accepting the temporary truce.

"It was good seeing you Jos, but we need to go," you interject, sensing the still tense atmosphere. The older man, still a little scared of you despite your sweet demeanor, lets you go, not quite willing to cross you again.

"Love you, Maxie"

"Love you too, Schatje,"

[foodtruckery]

I've been having crazy Stancest brain rot thinking about an AU where they don't have the portal incident and instead have crazy marathon hate sex instead (Inspired by some amazing art by @CoreArde on Twitter) and I thought it'd be fun to share that with you.

They start off arguing in the lab and then oops they're fucking on the lab floor, and they really should be thinking this through but nope now they're upstairs fucking on the kitchen table and okay maybe now they'll finally talk about it nah, they're fucking in Ford's bed now.

It starts off as rough hate sex getting out years of frustration, but by the time they make it to the kitchen its become insanely desperate and cloying because they missed each other, and their bodies fit so well together, and GOD how could they have not been doing this all time? They're going at it so long that they basically end up passed out in Ford's bed by the end, and Stan's not going to be sitting down for a while after this. He's probably just happy to be sleeping in a bed, but Ford is trying to figure out how he got so far from the initial plan.

Even better if the two of them have been harboring feelings for years and never acted on it, because they get the one-two punch of all the weight of their time apart and processing the fact that OH GOD I JUST FUCKED MY BROTHER (which of course they both wanted to do but still).

I have no idea what would happen after that, but both of them waking up sore, sweat soaked, sticky with cum (some still inside Stan because of course Ford didn't use a condom this wasn't supposed to happen) after having gone at each other like rabbits in heat despite never having expressed their attraction to each other before is a hilarious and hot idea to me. What do you think?

HI THERE ANON. i am so fucking sorry that i left you waiting for so long about this, but i need you to know it's because i was FUCKING OBSESSED with this. like just absolutely beside myself over it, and i refused to respond until i had a chance to sit down and respond PROPERLY.

cause uh YEAH FRIEND i know the exact fucking piece of art (explicit) you're talking about, because it's INCREDIBLE. and in case you didn't know, the artist is over here too and shares some fucking fantastic writing and headcanons also! (seriously, go check out @/cartoonsinthemorning if you haven't. and cart, i hope you don't mind that anon and i both kinda lost our minds about your art over here! i genuinely have no idea what tag etiquette is on this site and didn't wanna bombard you, but you did this. again.)

i'll be honest, anon, this kinda got away from me (fucking shocker) and i am too tired to do any legit editing of it right now, so please forgive any typos or weirdness! i'll try and clean it up before it eventually goes up on ao3. but thank you for such a LOVELY ask because this was so hot, and so inspiring, and i hope i did a little justice to your idea and cart's gorgeous art!

--- Ford isn't entirely sure how it had started. His memory, his perception of time, his ability to follow a linear order of events -- all if it is less than reliable at the moment, so he can't entirely blame himself for losing track of things here and there. But the jump between trying to wrestle his journal out of Stan's hands to trying to wrestle Stan out of his dingey jeans is a jarring transition to lose in the dull static that's been edging around his awareness for weeks now. 

Not jarring enough to stop him, though. 

He thinks, vaguely, while he's blindly tugging at Stan's denim, that there's a concerningly high likelihood that he's hallucinating. His head is swimming in so much caffeine and adrenaline that he doesn't even feel the rough concrete of the lab floor under his knees -- maybe that isn't where he is? Maybe he'd nodded off without realizing. Maybe he's going to come to with another lapful of polaroids and a new humiliating tattoo. 

Maybe, maybe, maybe -- he can reckon with a probability model later. For the first time in what feels like months, the stability of his perceived reality is not actually at the forefront of Ford's mind.

Pressing in on him harder than the doubt, harder than the disassociation from his physical body, and harder than the threat of the creature lingering in the depths of his subconscious is anger. It feels like a beacon in the muddled, fuzzy mess inside his head, something bright and real and his. It's searing through him, slicing away all the frayed edges of his paranoia and doubt like a hot blade through so much butter. 

Ford clings to the sharp edges of that anger and feels more alert than he has in weeks. 

He can't remember how their bickering had taken this particular turn, but if he's liable to lose his eyes and his life in the next few days, Ford will be fucking damned if he squanders the opportunity. He knows he's made a mess of things, that he's made the sorts of mistakes that can't and frankly shouldn't be forgiven. 

But he also knows with blinding, white hot certainty that he's only here, now, because of Stan's mistakes.

Ford may not deserve absolution, but he does deserves this. 

Laughter cuts through the lab, rough and mocking, and Ford's attention finally falls, properly, on Stan. He has a bruise blooming on his cheek and a snide smirk twisting his lips. He's also on his back, his jeans and a threadbare pair of boxers bunched in Ford's fists and pulled so low he can see the tight curls of his pubic hair and the root of his cock. 

"What's wrong, Poindexter?" Stan asks, mocking, and it's only then that Ford realizes he's paused halfway through stripping his twin's lower half. The bite of the cold concrete under his knees still feels far away, but the rough material in his palms, and the heat of Stan's body so close to him are sharp, clear details. "No hands on experience with a dick that ain't your own? Afraid you might actually be bad at somethin' for once?" 

Ford narrows his eyes, feeling the hot point of anger cutting through him, steadying him, and he jerks Stan's clothes hard enough that he gets the material past his knees in one tug. Stan laughs at him again, but it stutters into a little 'oof!' when Ford flips him onto his stomach. 

He doesn't care that Stan's pants are still caught around his calves and his boots. He doesn't care that Stan hisses something that sounds like pain when he's yanked onto his knees and dragged backwards several inches across the concrete. He doesn't even care that, once upon a time, he'd dreamed of this, of crossing this line with the only person he'd ever really loved in any way that mattered, and it's nothing like the softer, sweeter picture he used to imagine. 

Stan's hips are soft, and the skin gives easily under the iron grip Ford has on them, holding him in place as he grinds against his ass. Even through his slacks, the heat of Stan's body is intense, addictive, and he grinds forward again, harder, watching the friction rub a pink  patch against his skin. 

Stan, shameless and selfish as always, pushes eagerly back against him. Ford has barely done anything beyond rocking the outline of his cock against his hole, but he can hear Stan panting against the ground, can see his hands curling into fists. He remembers how many times Stan had called Carla McCorkle "easy" in high school and thinks, now, that the easy one had been his brother. 

"You gonna keep humpin' me, or are you gonna fuck me?" Stan demands, rocking as firmly back as he can with the bruising grip Ford has on him. 

"What makes you think you deserve that?" Ford bites out. It would serve Stan right, he thinks, if he got himself off exactly like this, no different than grinding against a particularly firm couch pillow. Just a conveniently warm object for Ford to release some tension with. 

Stan looks back over his shoulder and flashes teeth at him. It isn't a smile. "Oh, I get it. Cold feet? Well, we can just chalk it up to one more thing ya promised and then backed out of as soon as you actually had to make a choice. Good to know some things never change, Stanford."

He's being goaded, and Ford knows that. But the anger boils in his chest, and he thinks, why should he care about what Stan does or doesn't deserve from him? This is about what Ford deserves.

And what Ford deserves is to have his dick so far up Stan's ass he'll be able to feel it in the back of his throat. 

"Do you ever shut up?" he snaps while he releases one of Stan's hips to yank his slacks open. The bruise of his fingerprints already forming against Stan's skin thrills him, almost to distraction, if it weren't for Stan laughing again. 

"'Course not," he says, shifting his center of balance to dig into the pocket of his dirty red coat. The little packet he tosses over his shoulder bounces off his own ass to land by Ford's knee, the word LUBE printed in large, bold letters across the front. He should be surprised to see it, and part of him is. The word "easy" comes to mind again. 

Ford rips the packet open with his teeth. 

"F-Fuck!" Stan curses, turning his forehead against the ground when Ford presses his slick cock into him a moment later without warning. 

Ford grabs him roughly by the waist when he twitches forward and yanks Stan back until his ass hits the open fly of his slacks. He makes a choked sound at that and turns his face into the crook of his own arm when Ford pulls back and rocks hard back into him. 

"What's wrong, Stanley?" he parrots. He pistons his hips at a punishing pace, watching his cock pumping in and out of the greedy, grasping ring of Stan's hole. "Nothing to say?" 

Stan makes a noise that's too muffled by the sleeve of his coat to understand, so Ford reaches down to take a fistful of his stupid mullet instead. The hitching gasp that escapes his twin when his head is forcefully jerked up makes him groan. "What was that? Come on, Stanley, use your words." 

"F-Fuck off," Stan says, his voice strained, almost whining. 

"I see you haven't gotten anymore eloquent since you left," Ford scoffs around the breathlessness in his own voice, feeling the anger and pleasure coiling harder in his gut. "What was it you said? Good to know some things never change." 

When he pulls Stan's hair again, just because he can, Stan moans. And when he shifts his hips, driving in just as hard at the new angle, Stan shouts. With his own knees bracketed on either side of his, Ford can feel the way his thighs tremble when he clenches around his cock, and he can feel the sweat beading up under his palm where he's digging darker bruises into Stan's side. 

Ford feels like he's on the edge of delirium again, consumed by every sound Stan makes, every twitch of his hips, every ounce of his heat. He thinks, a bit wildly, that Stan may have been made for this, made to take his cock, for how well he does. 

It isn't until Stan jerks under him, going hot and tight around his cock and making a strangled noise in the back of his throat, that Ford realizes he may have said part of that out loud. That Stan came over it. 

He groans low in his throat and thrusts half a dozen more times into Stan's clenching hole before he comes as well. 

It's quiet for a few minutes other than their ragged panting, but it's Stan who eventually reaches back and swats at Ford's hand until he lets go of his hair. He takes the hint and pulls out, watching with no small amount of satisfaction as his come trickles down Stan's thighs. It strikes him suddenly that he wants to follow the wet trail back up with his tongue. It's enough to make his cock give a feeble, appreciative twitch. 

He isn't sure if he's just terribly distracted or if he loses time again, because when Ford next lifts his head, Stan is on his feet, pants pulled up around his waist but still open, and he has his journal in hand. This might be more jarring than the last transition he'd lost. 

"What are you doing?" he demands, shoving himself back onto his own feet. He doesn't bother to tuck his cock back in, and he spots the moment Stan's eyes flick down. It's brief, but he'd seen it. 

"What does it fucking look like I'm doing? I'm taking your stupid diary and disappearing like you begged me to," Stan says. His voice is still a little raw, and Ford has a moment to realize how much he likes that, before the words catch up. 

He scoffs. "Oh! So now you want to actually help?! Is it always this easy to fuck the sense into you?" 

Stan's expression does a few things Ford doesn't understand before his brows ultimately slam down and he turns his back, storming towards the door with Ford's journal still in hand, and Ford himself hot on his heels. "You're fucking unbelievable, Stanford, you know that?!" 

"Me?! You're the one who came all over my lab floor and then decided he was ready to be reasonable!" 

Stan jams his thumb against the call button for the elevator several times in quick succession, despite the car already being on their floor and the gate sliding open. "Most people would just say thank you when someone agreed to help them out, but not you! What does Stanford Pines have to be grateful for? We're all just fucking lucky to get a task from ya, huh?" 

Ford crowds into the elevator with him before Stan can try to pull the gate or call the doors shut behind him. He punches the button to take them up himself, before making a grab for the journal, snarling when Stan leans back and holds it up above his head. 

"You're the one who threatened to destroy my work twenty minutes ago, Stanley! Why would I trust you with it now? Hell, I can't figure out why I trusted you enough to bring you here in the first place!" 

"Oh really? You can't?" Stan sneers, leaning in close. And when Ford takes a step back, Stan follows, backing him into a corner of the car. "I don't think you fuckin' trusted me to do shit, Stanford. I think you were all outta options cause nobody else could stand to put up with you anymore." 

Stan doesn't so much as hit a nerve as he takes a sledgehammer to it, and as soon as the elevator dings, Ford shoves him as hard as he can out into the study. Stan yelps when he stumbles, nearly tripping over his own feet, and it's only knocking into a cluttered desk that keeps him from falling on his ass. 

Ford doesn't give him any time to right himself, storming in after him and grabbing him by the front of his jacket. Stan flinches, like he'ex expecting a punch, but Ford yanks him in and crushes his mouth against his instead. 

There's a dull thump that Ford only realizes was the journal being dropped when he feels both of Stan's hands on his shoulders. They curl briefly, grasping at him, and Ford feels his mouth starting to go soft and slack. But as soon as he presses in, runs his tongue along that loosening seam, he's suddenly being shoved backwards. 

If he weren't so damn confused, Ford would probably appreciate the picture Stan makes, lips slick and pants open, leaning back against one of Ford's desks. 

"What are you doing?!" Stan demands, like he's the one who doesn't know what day it is, and keeps losing track of events. 

"I would think even you could figure that out after what happened downstairs, Stanley."

Stan flushes, visible even in the low light of the study, though Ford isn't sure if it's embarrassment or anger. The scowl on his face doesn't help clear things up, either, though the fact that he isn't actually looking at Ford is...telling.  

"That ain't happening again," Stan states, and there isn't anything convincing about the way he says it at all. But when Ford steps forward, Stan sidesteps him and the desk. He makes a wrong turn in the dark, in a house he isn't familiar with, and flinches when Ford flips on the light in the kitchen he's walked into.

"I don't know how you expect to leave and hide my journal after leaving it in the study," he points out, frowning at the back of Stan's head. 

He isn't surprised when Stan whirls on him. He is, however, stunned still when he realizes Stan's eyes are wet. 

"What the fuck do you want from me, Stanford?!" Stan shouts, his voice cracking over his name, and it makes something feel like it's cracking inside his chest. 

Ford has to wet his lips when he finds them and his throat dry. "...I told you what I wanted," he says.

"Yeah, you did! And when I finally agreed to do it, you threw a fucking fit about it! And now you're pissy because I'm not?! What do you want?" 

The anger sparks sharply inside him again, and Ford grasps at it like a lifeline, willing to bloody his hands for that bite of stability. 

"You tried to burn it! My life's work! And you only decided you would help me after we--"

Stan cuts him off, looking towards the cabinets while he raises his voice and waves his hands. "Jesus Christ, I'm sorry about the fucking lighter, all right?!"

Ford frowns. He takes a step forward and, still without looking at him, Stan takes a step back. It's the elevator all over again, but this time Ford is pressing in, backing Stan into the cabinets. He grabs the counter on either side of his hips when he tries to side step him again. 

"Stanley, look at me," he demands, frowning harder when Stan sets his jaw and stars determinedly at his shoulder. "Stanley--"

"What do you want, Ford? Just...just fucking tell me and I'll leave, all right?" Stan says, his voice tired and soft as he reaches up to rub a hand over his own face.

He wants a lot, honestly. And hasn't that always been the problem? He's always wanted -- to be normal, to be respected, to be the best, to be special. 

To be wanted. 

To be enough.

To fix things. 

"You," he realizes, watching Stan jerk his head up. His lashes are still wet, and Ford can't stop himself from reaching up and pressing his palm to Stan's cheek, skimming his thumb gently under one of his eyes. 

When he leans in to kiss him again, Stan makes a small, wounded little noise under his mouth, but he parts his lips for Ford's tongue this time. Stan's lips are chapped and he tastes vaguely of stale cigarettes, but Ford is still struck by how soft and sweet he is. 

More than anything else that had happened that evening, this is the moment that Ford knows he should suspect most of all. The way Stan relaxes between him and the counter, the almost tentative way he lifts his tongue to meet his, the careful fingertips touching the edge of Ford's coat and brushing against his loose tie. It's tender in a way Ford didn't think either of them were capable of, and it should be setting off warning bells and red flags in every part of his mind. 

It isn't. 

Ford is more certain of  the reality of this single moment, the gentle slip of Stan's lips against his own, than he's been of anything in a long time. 

And then Stan sighs between them and murmurs, warm and hopeful, "Ford," against his lips, and he's done for. 

It doesn't matter that they just fucked, that Ford's come is probably still drying between Stan's thighs -- he can't keep his hands off of him. Ford is suddenly frantic and desperate in a way that he hadn't been downstairs. He needs to relearn the new, wider shape of Stan's shoulders and pecs. He needs to feel out every new scar and take stock of all the old ones he remembers Stan collecting for him as kids. He needs to be surrounded by him again, soaking in the warmth of him. 

Ford doesn't deserve absolution, but he thinks he may be able to find something close to it in the low, shaky way Stan moans his name. 

And there's familiarity in the way Stan grabs at him in turn, tugging at his jacket and tie and surging into another, harder kiss. Ford thinks he may not be the only one looking for expiation. 

Then Stan drops to his knees between him and the cabinet, and Ford stops thinking so much. His cock is still out, and Stan wastes no time in getting his fist around the shaft and his lips around the head. He suckles and swirls his tongue, and Ford shoves the beanie off of his head to get his hands in his hair. 

"Stanley," he gasps, stroking his fingers along his scalp and fisting the strands between them. 

Stan moans around him and shuffles closer, sliding the seal of his lips further down the length of Ford's cock. All he can do is groan and try to keep from rocking his hips as more of him is greeted by the warmth of his mouth and the wickedness of his tongue. 

He keeps waiting for Stan to reach his limit, to back off and give himself room to breathe. He doesn't. He keeps leaning in, keeps taking him, and then Ford feels his cockhead slip into Stan's throat, sees his lashes are wet again, and he has to put one hand on the counter to keep himself steady. "Fuck, Stanley, you're so good at this."

Stan makes a horribly sweet sound around the girth of Ford's cock and reaches up to hold his hips as he swallows, and Ford is suddenly afraid he's going to embarass himself.  His hips twitch despite his best efforts to keep them still, but Stan simply relaxes his jaw and his throat and tugs a little to encourage him to do it again. He does, of course, how could he not? 

Despite the heat clawing its way through him and the pleasure mounting dangerously high, Ford almost feels outside of himself again. The picture Stan makes, with his eyes damp and heavy lidded, his lips wet and stretched around Ford's cock, his hair fisted in Ford's fingers and his own clinging to Ford's hips -- it's lewd, debauched, and so horribly sweet that it makes Ford's chest hurt. 

Stan gasps raggedly when Ford pulls him off. "I was go-gonna...I mean you can--"

Ford kneels down to kiss him, tasting stale cigarettes and himself, cock throbbing over the rough state of Stan's voice. "Not done yet," he manages, before tugging Stan onto his feet. 

They lose clothes and time on the journey upstairs, tripping over the steps and Ford's discarded pants, and stumbling into his wreck of a room. If Stan notices the state of things, he doesn't comment, mouth latched onto Ford's shoulder and hands all over his back and hips. 

The back of Ford's legs hit the bed and he sits hard on the mattress. Stan doesn't hesitate to crawl up into his lap. He'd lost his boots in the kitchen and his jeans and boxers somewhere on the way to the stairs, giving him ample opportunity to rub his bare cock against Ford's. 

Cursing, Ford rolls his hips and only belatedly remembers to reach up and tug the hideous red coat off of Stan's shoulders. 

"Oh, fuck, hold on. I think I have another one," Stan says, panting softly as he digs into the pockets of his coat. Ford takes the opportunity to run his hands across Stan's thighs and ass, squeezing whatever skin he can until Stan makes a triumphant sound and pulls another little packet of lube free. 

Only then does he let Ford toss his jacket aside and tug him further up the bed with him. He doesn't protest when Ford takes the packet from him, lowering his head to work open mouth kisses up Ford's throat instead, and he rolls his hips distractingly while Ford fights to get the damnable thing open. He ignores the snickering against his skin in the process. 

It stops anyway, hitching into something warm and startled when Ford sinks two slick fingers into him. 

"Oh, fuck," Stan breaths, reaching up to grab Ford by the shoulder, holding himself steady. "Y-You know you don't have to do that, right? Pretty loosened up already."

He is, to be fair. His hole is still soft and loose and fucked open. But Ford enjoys petting his fingers against the tender muscle and stroking them inside anyway. He likes watching Stan bite his lip and push himself back onto his hand. When he slides a third in after the first two, Stan's thighs tremble on either side of his own, and he makes a low, throaty sound. 

When Ford curls his fingers just right, Stan yells and grips his shoulder hard enough to hurt, and it makes warm satisfaction curl in his middle. So he does it a few more times, alternating between spreading his fingers and rubbing the tips against Stan's prostate until he's squirming in his lap. 

"I-I'm gonna come if you don't knock that sh-shit off," he gasps, slumping a bit when Ford chuckles and slides his fingers out. 

"I think I'd like that," Ford says, squeezing his slick fingers against Stan's thigh. 

He snorts and straightens back up, finding the discarded lube packet to squirt the remainder onto Ford's cock. "Yeah, I bet you fucking would," Stan agrees, but there's no malice in his voice, just warm amusement. 

His fist is warm and wonderful when it curls around Ford's cock, spreading lube, and then Ford is being held steady, Stan adjusts himself on his scuffed knees, and there's nothing else to do but hold on as Stan lowers himself into his lap. 

It feels as good as it had earlier to be inside of him, and Ford squeezes the thigh under his hand tightly, fighting against the need to buck his hips. Stan is panting softly, his head tilted back and a pretty, pink color is crawling up from under his t-shirt to flood his neck and face. 

Ford groans and leans forward, finding a nipple through his thin shirt to get his teeth and tongue against.

"F-Ford!" Stan gasps, fumbling the hand not clawing at his shoulder up into his hair, and Ford sucks hard on the firm nub,  rubbing spit-soaked cotton against it with his tongue until Stan rocks in his lap. 

Fuck, he likes that, the way his name sounds in Stan's voice, especially warm and rough after fucking his throat earlier. 

He squeezes Stan's thigh and his hip, giving him a little tug, and that's all the encouragement Stan needs before he's bouncing on his cock. Ford has that thought again -- that Stan was meant to be filled by him, that they're a perfectly matched set. But it isn't just feeling good and hot while Stan fucks himself in his lap. It's feeling like he's been missing something and he finally has it, like he's finally complete again. 

He's missed this, Ford realizes. 

Not the fucking his brother part. He'd fantasized about that for years but it still feels like a dream that it's happening, like something that's too good to be true. 

But being able to put his arms around him? To be this close to him again? 

Ford rocks his hips up, hard, and Stan says his name. He wraps his fingers around Stan's cock, and he gasps his name. He bites the same swollen, pink nipple through his shirt, and Stan shouts his name. 

He snaps his hips up to meet him a few more times and rubs the sensitive glans under the head of Stan's cock, and then there are teeth digging into his other shoulder and his fist and stomach are being striped in Stan's come while he shudders and jerks overtop of him. 

Stan goes easily when Ford rolls them over and pins one of his wrists to the bed. And despite the way he squirms and how his spent cock twitches and leaks, blatantly overstimulated, he hooks his ankles behind Ford's back and urges him on. 

"C-C'mon, give it to me. Fuck, just like that, Sixer!" 

The nickname hits him with all the subtlety of a truck and all the heat of a volcanic eruption. 

He doesn't even remember coming so much as he remembers every synapses in his brain trying to fire at once. Coming back down to reality is a little clearer, with his head spinning and pulse racing as he flops onto his back, but it still takes several long minutes before he feels fully cognizant again. 

Something makes the bed shift, and he looks over to see that Stan has rolled onto his stomach. Ford wonders if he looks half as fucked out as Stan does, with bruises blossoming across his body, his shirt rucked halfway up his stomach, and come staining his ass and thighs. Ford realizes Stan still has his socks on, and he can't figure out why that makes something twinge, hot but exhausted and halfhearted, in his gut. 

"Gonna...gonna get up in a minute," Stan says, his voice slurring and his eyes already closed. Ford watches him rub his cheek against one of Ford's pillows, and the soft sound of snoring follows soon after. 

The reality of the situation starts to settle in shortly after that, and Ford stares wide eyed up at the ceiling as if he'll find some sort of answers there. Unsurprisingly, there are no secrets etched overhead for how to reckon with the fact that he had just fucked his brother, twice, while the fate of the world was still very much hanging in the balance between his fraying sanity and Bill's looming threat. 

".....Fuck," Ford murmurs.

When the adrenaline finishes seeping out of his system, Ford expects to crash. The exhaustion certainly climbs back into his bones, but he's surprised to find himself still clear headed. Focused. 

The sound of Stan sleeping soundly beside him is as soothing as it is mocking, but he doesn't want to separate himself from it even though he knows he needs to get up. There's soft, gray light starting to creep in through the windows, and distant birdsong calling for the start of the day. He needs to readjust, to come up with a new plan, find some way to explain to Stan what's going on so they can buy themselves a little more time. 

Against all odds and his better judgment, there's a tiny, optimistic voice in the back of his head reminding him that there's strength in numbers. He isn't surprised that it sounds like Stan.

[sanemistar]

Hey lovely! Is there any chance you’d do a Sanemi x female!reader (she’s a hashria) one shot?

She’s been dating him for ages but all of a sudden she breaks up with him and gets with some other guy straight away, so sanemi is super hurt/angry about it (he was about to about to propose). Anyway, fast forward to the hashria training arc and she’s there with the new guy (he’s a demon slayer), he can see that reader is super uncomfortable around this guy so he’s super suss about the whole thing. Sanemi ends up overhearing the guy she’s now dating that he was actually threatening reader to hurt everyone she loves (especially Sanemi) if she didn’t dump him and date her. But fight insures and blah blah blah, happy ending with them getting back together!

I hope that makes sense, but you have creative freedom to whatever you think is best! Also if you don’t want to write it I fully respect your decision, but if you do write it thank you so much ❤️

never let you go — sanemi shinazugawa

pairing: sanemi x hashira fem!reader

genre: angst, fluff, lovers to exes then back to lovers

wc: 2.2k+

warnings: usage of threats, slight swearing, not proofread oops

a/n: i hope you enjoy reading <33 this was so fun to write thank you for requesting lovely anon !!

you and sanemi have been dating for ages, everyone knows how madly in love you two are with each other. you two are basically inseparable, wherever you are you’re always seen with him, to the point where other people start whispering 'that's the wind hashira's girl' when they see you. you two are the epitome of love basically. so it’s to be expected that you two will end up married at some point, and that’s been your longtime boyfriend’s plan all along. he has been planning to propose to you for so long and today he’s about to finally take that next big step in your relationship.

on a lovely spring day, sanemi leaves you a message with his crow, asking you to come by his estate later because he wants to tell you something very important, so you prepare yourself and excitedly leave your estate to see him, wondering about what is that important thing that made your boyfriend so eager to see you. your train of thought is forced to cut short, though, when someone grabs your hand which stops you from going any further. you take a moment to inspect the person standing in front of you, he seems to be a demon slayer but one of a lower ranking based on his attire. but something about him feels odd and you feel slightly uncomfortable around him.

"going somewhere, y/n?" his way of addressing and talking informally to you as if you two are very familiar with each other pisses you off, can't he see your haori, does he not know you're a hashira and that he should speak to you respectfully?

"and why i should explain myself to you?" you push him out of your way and keep on walking, you don't want to be late for sanemi's meetup. but he grabs your hand and stops you once again, this time his grip is harder than the last time to ensure that you stay still.

"i can't let you go, y/n. i love you. please go out with me." you're taken aback by the sudden, uncalled for love confession. does this guy not know that you already have a boyfriend? and he's not just any boyfriend, he's the infamous wind hashira.

"don't you think you're too bold to ask me such nonsense? i have a boyfriend, you know?" you inform him, eyes looking sharp. he's clearly pissing you off, you should be in sanemi's arms right now, but instead, some random guy is wasting your time.

"i don't care, i'm not leaving until i make you mine." the guy is still persistently pestering you. no matter how many times you reject him, he still begs and pleas. you've had enough of his constant begging and finally reach your limit, so you quickly grab you katana and point it against his throat.

"if you don't stop what you're doing, you're going to regret what i'm about to do next." you speak sternly. but he doesn't seem to be fazed in the slightest. to your surprise, his entire demeanor changes and he pulls away your katana as it drops on the ground. and before you even get a chance to react, he quickly turns around points his own katana very close to the crook of your neck.

"i think you're the one who's going to regret what i'm about to do if you don't go out with me, someone might get hurt, like your boyfriend for example." he whispers into your ear, with a voice full of threat. you know sanemi is a very strong man, but you simply don't want to put the love of your life in danger because of you, you'll never forgive yourself if anything happens to him. so you choose to give up and surrender yourself to the man's demands, all for the sake of sanemi. you always put his safety and wellbeing before everything else, even before your own desires.

"i'll let you go for now, you know what to do, right?" he warns you. you grit your teeth, trying to suppress the tears eager to fall down your cheeks. it pains you to leave the one man you love the most in the world and the only one for you, after you had promised each other to never be apart until death do you part. you can't believe you're about to break your promise in the worst way possible.

with now a heavy heart, you walk towards your boyfriend's estate and sanemi instantly greets you with a tight embrace. you bury your face deep in his warm, bare chest. you wish you could stay there forever, but the words from earlier ring vividly in your ears, causing you to jolt, startling both you and sanemi.

"you 'kay, y/n?" sanemi asks in both confusion and worry, he's sensing there's something unusual about you today, but he can't seem to know exactly what it is.

"i'm... fine." you try your best to assure him. though he's still convinced you're acting strange, he decides to drop his suspicions for now. he has something much more important to tell you, his long awaited proposal.

"i have something to tell you." you both say in unison, but sanemi insists that you should go first. you take a deep breath, your heart weighs heavy. you feel tongue tied, as if your body refuses to let you say what you're about to say next, but you force yourself to.

"i... i want to break up, sanemi." your words drop on him like a bomb, he's surely never seen this one coming. he's hurt and angry, he knows you love him so much, so why are you suddenly asking for a breakup.

"shit, tell me what is it that i did wrong? i promise i'll fix it, just please don't leave me, y/n." you've never seen sanemi this vulnerable before, you can clearly hear the pain and desperation in his tone. it breaks your heart knowing that you're causing him to be in this state, but you're left with no choice. you have to protect him, even if it costs you to earn his hatred for the rest of your life.

"there's no point. it can't be fixed. thank you for everything and goodbye, sanemi." you kiss him goodbye one last time before you quickly run away as the tears you've been holding for so long finally get released, forcing yourself to never look back. because you know that you'll get weak and throw yourself in his arms once again if you do. he watches as you slowly disappear from his line of sight before he breaks down, he's feeling utterly bitter at you for leaving him behind just like that without telling him why.

fast forward a while later, amane-sama summons all the hashiras and announces that there will be a hashira training to prepare for the final fight against muzan, and everyone must participate, which means that you’ll meet up with sanemi more frequently. if it were any normal occasion, you’d be very happy to spend time with him. but with everything that has happened, you’re not looking forward to it.

after the meeting is done you immediately prepare yourself to leave, unable to stay a minute longer knowing that sanemi is right there but you can't hold him in your arms. obviously the rest of them notice how awkward you behave around each other now, wondering why you broke up with sanemi and left him for some random guy who seems to be much less than what you deserve, especially when you and sanemi were so perfect for each other. but they decide not to pry into the matter further in respect of your private life.

the minute you step into the training grounds, you're met with your 'new boyfriend' waiting for you at the entrance as he wraps his arm around you. the sight of him brings immense pain in your heart, you can't stand seeing his face.

"how was it, baby?" your stomach turns upset upon hearing his voice and you feel sick to your core the moment he lays finger on your skin.

"good." you reply nonchalantly. you always keep your replies to a bare minimum, usually reply with a short sentence, sometimes even with just one word. you'd rather not talk to him at all, but you force yourself to.

sanemi notices that you're feeling very uncomfortable around the guy, it’s very clear to his eyes despite him standing at a distance. which makes him instantly feel something is wrong about the whole thing. like why would you date someone you're not comfortable with? he knows this is unlikely of you, so he starts to investigate further.

even after the breakup, sanemi still has feelings for you. he's never moved on from you, he’s only ever loved you, no matter how many times he tries to. he has no interest in any other girl, you're so exceptional he can't seem to find a girl that's as amazing as yourself, you're the only one in his eyes. so he promises himself to do everything he can to bring you back to him once more.

then one day while he's cooling off after a long training session, sanemi sees a bunch of low-ranking demon slayers gathered around a guy and he immediately recognizes his face, it's the guy that stole you away from him. he tightly clenches his fists until his knuckles turn white, furious is an understatement to describe how he’s feeling right now.

he accidentally overhears them asking him how he got you to break up with one of the strongest hashiras and date him instead, and he tells everyone how he threatened you to hurt your loved ones, especially sanemi himself, if you refuse to break up with sanemi and date him.

everything makes sense now, why you broke your promise to him by suddenly asking to breakup without giving any justifications whatsoever. sanemi is incredibly enraged by his statement, his blood is boiling and his veins are popping up, his vision is blinded by all the pent up anger. his body moves automatically towards where the guy is and delivers a strong punch onto his face, completely destroying that cocky look smeared on it.

"you fuckin' asshole!" sanemi shouts angrily as he continues to ruthlessly punch that jerk multiple times to a point where his knuckles start bleeding, no one is daring to intervene in any way. they just let sanemi beat him to his heart's desire. after quite some time, sanemi finally stops and grabs him by the collar.

"you better fucking never show your face to y/n or bother her ever again, ya hear me? try being near her again and i'll fuckin' kill you." the guy only nods in fear, not even being able to speak. sanemi lets go of him and drops his now passed out body on the floor.

desperately searching for you, sanemi keeps running and running asking everyone around for you. until he finds you as you're about to enter your estate. he rushes to you like crazy and embraces you from behind, startling you.

"why did you handle this all by yourself, y/n? why didn't ya tell me?" sanemi asks you in between his crying, and your whole body flinches upon hearing his cries. you know how sanemi hardly ever cries in front of anyone, especially you. because he doesn't want you to worry about him, so he only shows you his strong side.

"i had no choice, i wanted to protect you. i wouldn't have forgiven myself if you had been put in danger because of me." you join him in sobbing as you turn around and bury yourself in his chest once again. you cry your heart out in his arms as he pats your head softly until you slowly begin to calm down. he cups your delicate face in his hands as his calloused thumbs wipe away your tears gently.

"i love you, y/n." he speaks softly, as if he's whispering. you feel butterflies all over your stomach the moment you hear your name slipping out of his lips, you've missed his voice so much.

"i love you too, nemi." you reply back, looking at him ever so endearingly. you lean closer and capture his lips in a loving, passionate kiss. you feel his hands move from your face and rest onto the sides of your waist, pulling you closer to him and you smile into the kiss.

after some time, the two of you break the kiss. yet your eyes are locked on his big, lilac ones.

"i'll never let you go, not now, not ever." sanemi kneels down on one knee, grabbing out a small box with a beautiful ring in it. you feel tears slowly forming into your eyes yet again, this time they're happy tears.

"will you marry me, y/n?" he finally proposes to you, sure the proposal isn't the most grand or extravagant. but you don't mind it in the slightest, this is more than enough to you, the fact that you're finally back together with the man you adore the most is what's important to you.

"yes, of course. my nemi." no hint of hesitation is to be found in your tone, it's the easiest and quickest yes you've ever said. you can't believe you're about to spend the rest of your life with your one and only love. you have no idea what life has in store for the two of you, but one thing for sure is that no matter what happens, you'll always be by sanemi’s side and never leave.

[adhdtsukasa]

tsukasa tenma has ADHD!! except it's an actual analysis because 1. look at my url 2. i'm mentally unwell (and i started to love tsukasa mostly because i immediately recognized my ADHD traits in him). which is a thing i should probably leave for ADHD awareness month, HOWEVER!! it was my birthday yesterday and i wanted to spoil myself (i just kinda overlooked how much time writing it from scratch would take me, so i'm a bit late with it). and i reaaally don't wanna wait until november when i finally wrote it down because i'm so HYPED because i was preparing for it like what? two years? somewhere around it. and that's a LONG time.

please keep in mind that i'm no psychologist, psychiatrist nor a neurologist and while i do use some sources (cannot really confirm if they are true, though... because i forgot to write credits down... so i'm really sorry for that), most of this analysis was just based off on my personal experiences with the disorder (and i don't really have the full professional knowledge of what i struggle with i'm just a Boy). i mean, i am analyzing a character from a hatsune miku game. i think i'm already putting way too many effort than i should.

also the examples of tsukasa's behavior here are not all of the things, because i wrote down only the things i remember off from the top of my head. sorry, guys. my hyperactive ass is not sitting thru all the stories again just to get my crumbs, unfortunately.

anyways, with this a little bit unprofessional and messy introduction, let's get it started!

1. THE MAIN PART OF THIS WHOLE THING, AKA HOW THE ADHD SYMPTOMS CORRESPOND TO TSUKASA'S BEHAVIOR

i wanted to write it down in my own words, but i think the screen above has summed it up perfectly; there are some established symptoms of ADHD, but to be an ADHDer you don't have to experience them all. and this is going to explain why i'm gonna show a lot of these symptoms later, yet gonna connect only some of them with tsukasa. it's only these i have evidence for, and yet i think they're good enough to point at tsukasa and already say woah! an ADHDer!!

in short, there are three types of ADHD: hyperactive, inattentive (ADD) and combined. the combined one is the most common iirc, so that's also what i'm going to focus on today. especially since for a rep of the other types, i could say that shizuku's a rather great representation of ADD — but that's not the point of my ted talk today, so i'm not going to go into the detail about it. i'm sure some momojan or shizuku oshi would do better than me in this field, so i'm leaving it to the experts.

these are the symptoms that i managed to gather — the first two screens being about the symptoms viewed in children, the last one being about the symptoms viewed in adults. "in which one of them tsukasa belongs to?" that's a good question, because i actually don't know. calling a high schooler a child doesn't sit quite right with me, yet a freshly turned 17/18-years-old is not exactly an adult, either (although most of the symptoms i'm analyzing come from these that are viewed in adults). and while i do think tsukasa has more of the symptoms viewed in adults, we're gonna analyse them all! because i'm putting my all into this.

FORGETFULNESS

i believe there's not much left to say, as this is the most obvious one and everyone already knows that. even though it's not touched that much anymore for some reason, tsukasa's forgetfulness is his very apparent trait. it varies in severity a lot of times: from him basically forgetting both his childhood and true feelings in the main story to him, for example, forgetting his own phone and lunch (in the same day!!) in hinamatsuri. even saki in the same event, while they were arguing, called him a "big, dumb forgetter" and assumed that he forgot what happened the day he brought her the hinamatsuri dolls to hospital. while forgetting basically half of your life is not exactly normal and can be a sign of something bigger, like dissociative amnesia, his forgetting of just the ordinary things and it happening a lot definitely still fits this trait.

EXCESSIVE TALKING/PHYSICAL MOVEMENT

while this is something that you'd rather connect to emu (and for a good reason), it's not like tsukasa is completely devoid of it either; he talks a lot. he moves a lot. it's not on emu's level of hyperactivity, but it's also not "a lot" that's taken as a social norm, based on how the people around him react. he's putting the 1 in oddball 1 2, after all.

in holy night or some side stories connected to it (it might be meiko's side story? but i'm not exactly sure) it was also said that tsukasa moves in his sleep a lot to this point that his parents have to leave his christmas presents under his door instead of next to his bed.

oh, and he also talks to himself a lot. even in class, which was confirmed in chapter 6 of dazzling (or maybe even earlier, it's just the one moment that i remember). (but i'll get to this moment later on)

he says his long monologues, he strikes his poses at every occasion — and while i don't think that's the first thing you think of when you have "excessive talking/movement" in mind, for me it sure does count as it.

LITTLE OR NO SENSE OF DANGER

this point can seem rather weird, because "isn't tsukasa always riddiculed at rui's weird inventions"? well, yeah, he is, that is not a thing to deny. but he also agrees to try out most of them, if not all, if it's for the sake of the show. he's aware of what can happen, but he also doesn't back away if it means that he'll be one step closer to achieving his dream of stardom.

does it count as "little sense of danger"? well, i'm actually not sure, for me it doesn't, but maybe for someone it does. i'd say that's a rather weak point, but i wanted to include the explanation for the counterpoint of it — that's why i even mentioned it in the first place. i don't have a lot to say about this tbh.

update: oh, actually no, wait, i just remembered. remember how tsukasa in phoenix decided to not eat anything for three days just to be able to resonate with rio, while also having to do straining exercise on top of that? you certainly cannot say that's a safe thing to do, but he still went along with that in order to get the role. it makes me come to a conclusion that tsukasa actually has a sense of danger, but sometimes chooses to willingly ignore it if only it makes him get closer to fulfilling his dream. i think it's coming close enough to the little/no sense of danger to be actually considered an ADHD trait.

DIFFICULTY KEEPING QUIET

while i'm not sure if what i'm going to talk about is a difficulty keeping quiet in a traditional sense of way, it definitely counts as it, somehow: tsukasa is loud. like, really loud. and that's another obvious fact both for us and for characters in-universe, especially when thinking of tsukasa shiho's first thought is that he's kinda noisy, which can be seen in the "a friend's brother" 1koma. (and probably a lot of other cases. free shiho.)

tsukasa doesn't seem to realize that he's way louder than he should be and that him being loud is his first impression in most of the cases, though, or at least i don't remember any moment where it happens (and it's a possibility. then that's on me, i guess.). and yeah, i know what's the reason for it, obviously — he's supposed to be a comic relief character. because wansho's stories are mostly supposed to make you smile, as this is what wansho's aspiration is. however, as much as being intended to make the viewer laugh it wouldn't be, it still is a part of tsukasa's character, and a rather important one on top of that. his constant loudness is something that's definitely not considered normal by the society and could very well fit into this symptom.

and since i promised to elaborate on the mentioned before scene from dazzling chapter 6: when tsukasa talks to himself in class, it always ends up to be loud. and it already happened a few times.

(tl by tsukasa's #3 fan on youtube because i don't have proseka on my phone wah)

if it's not a difficulty keeping quiet, then i don't know what is. bro can scream up to 120dB as measured by robonene for god's sake.

IRRITABILITY/QUICK TEMPER

again, this is something that was more apparent with early game tsukasa, maybe he just got medicated. idk man. but even if it happened three, almost four years ago, it still happened, i don't make the rules. back in the early game, tsukasa was really easily losing his temper and getting annoyed, mad even — i mean, that was the whole point of the main story argument: tsukasa's first response to nene accidentally messing up their show, which was not even her fault, was to shout at her. and while this was obviously very important thing to him and being upset at this is a rather understandable reaction, taking this as far as screaming at a poor girl for not being to face the audience because of her anxiety is not something a person who can control their anger would do.

it could be also easily seen by his reaction to emu and rui's antics back in the early game, which were often stained with irritation.

another example is his hinamatsuri argument with saki, where, despite loving her so much, he still got slightly mad at her for not liking the new dolls he bought her. he started to regret his harsh words and actions soon enough, obviously, but it doesn't change the fact that it was rather easy for him to get him across.

INABILITY TO DEAL WITH STRESS

if i'm not mistaken, tsukasa has once said something along the lines of "is it anxiety? there's no way a star like me would feel anxiety" — but i cannot recall for the love of my life in which story it appeared, so i don't want to take it as a face value when i don't have a solid proof for it.

other than this vague mention of "something that's in the story but i don't remember where", i'll admit, i don't really have anything backing me up for this tbf. i mean, i guess maybe tsukasa doing his best to appear strong as a child to not worry his parents could work? because the stress of saki being in the hospital definitely was also present here, although i just see this more as a coping mechanism for his situation than a reaction to stress, so that's not a solid evidence either.

so, yeah. take this one with a grain of salt, actually.

from the symptoms that weren't listed here, i remember reading something about people with ADHD enjoying to show off more, which is certainly what tsukasa does often — and while it actually applies to me too, it wasn't on an english site so i didn't screenshot it and i cannot really find it anywhere in english... so even though i treat it just like my whole argument for the inability to deal with stress, i thought it's just worth mentioning.

however, there is obviously one more thing...

HYPERFIXATION/SPECIAL INTEREST

obviously, i'm talking about acting here: for tsukasa, acting aligns with all these criterias. it is his deep passion; it is something highly engaging for him; it is sometimes all-consuming for him; he tunes out the world around him when he thinks about how can he possibly improve his acting (see: the dazzling moment i showed earlier. yeah, i like to use it as a backing point a lot, as you can see.); and it is something that is his life-long interest.

is it his special interest or his hyperfixation, though? well, it's hard to tell...? because while according to screen two, spinterest revolves around a topic and hyperfixation revolves around an activity, so it would qualify what tsukasa feels towards acting as a hyperfixation, it's still kinda hard for me to call it so because of its length. yes, screen three clearly says that hyperfixation can last years, but they mostly revolve around shorter periods of time, after all (my longest hyperfixation was just a year long, for example). i think it's up to you to determine whether you'd call tsukasa's love for acting a hyperfixation or a special interest, but it's something from these two most certainly.

i'm also a big fan of the headcanon that tsukasa's other spinterest is kaito ww it's in no way a canon evidence (unfortunately!), but kaito's 1* side story, where tsukasa and emu are watching kaito's show and tsukasa is explaining to her why kaito's wearing a scarf somewhat implies that tsukasa knew a thing or two about kaito before the main story. and i'm all for it. colopale let tsukasa be a kaito fanboy pleaseee.

2. I REALLY LIKE ANALYZING SONGS, IF YOU CAN'T TELL

those who have already read a few of my things probably know what i love to do the most — analyzing songs!! so i wouldn't be myself if i just left tsukasa's commisions without analyzing them under the angle of neurodivergence, especially since the sole reason i became obsessed with the thought of ADHD tsukasa was that one sekahaji line (there's too much noise, so much noise and it keeps getting worse you will always be famous).

of course, remember that only the world hasn't even started yet should be taken as a canon value! producers are often given space to do whatever they want in the lyrics of the songs they are commissioned for, so they're not canonical in any way. i think it's still fun to look at their lyrics and ramble about them for a bit, though. i've already got too carried away anyways.

won't be posting photos of the lyrics since i'd hit the images limit, but you can check them yourself — all the translations i'm taking, as always, from the vocaloid lyrics wiki. (since filament fever has two tls on there, i want to clarify that i've only looked at and considered in my analysis the official english one, because it's, well, official.)

THE WORLD HASN'T EVEN STARTED YET

besides the mentioned earlier there's too much noise, so much noise and it keeps getting worse, which i think of as a representation of overstimulation (since i used to see people asking "oh but why tsukasa has something about there being too much noise in a song made out of his feelings when he's such a loud person himself". because he likes the noise he makes, not the overwhelming, overstimulating noise from the outside!!), sekahaji also has a rather good amount of quotes that could be read as something connected to neurodivergence (based on the fact that it's not supposed to be a song about this topic): the main theme of these are procrastination, which can be seen in let's cross the end of all of this, partying forever and the world hasn't even started yet line itself. the thought of the world not even starting implies that there's still a lot of time left to do something, while "partying forever" can refer to deciding to give up on doing the things you should do and going to drown in something that indulges only you and yourself for the rest of eternity. while procrastination is not counted as an official ADHD symptom, it's a trait that people with the disorder very often have (for reasons obvious).

other lines, which i couldn't entirely fit into a box of a certain symptom, are there's too much conflict, so much conflict and it keeps growing (a parallel line to the noise one, so it means something! right) and let's break the plans for a harmonious future. in my personal interpretation, they both can be viewed as your typical neurodivergent struggle in a neurotypical society — "too much conflict" refering to an internal struggle of not being completely normal, while the "harmonious future" that's going to get broken are just the social norms that are going to be broken because of an off-putting, neurodivergent behavior. something that some neurotypical people dooon't really like.

TONDEMO-WONDERZ

since i've just talked about breaking the social norms, "why?!" and "do it like this!!" aren't like you, huh? line from tondemo-wonderz is going to go first, because it revolves around the same topic. it's the same case: it's about (subconscious, not intentional) fighting what's accepted by the society by just being yourself — because you're neurodivergent, you're different.

from the other lines in tondemo-wonderz, i have only one and it's take an eraser to your memories?!, which is pretty much self explanatory. as always, a mention of forgetting something in tsukasa's commision. who would've thought.

88 SHOOTING STARS

another self explanatory line that i have written down as first: it's okay if you only remember a little part of it sometimes. another mention of tsukasa forgor™, and while it corresponds with what happened in dazzling, it's still a line mentioning forgetfulness — so it's worth mentioning.

aren't we just inevitably going around in circles? and it's okay if you take a rest for a little bit sometimes can be interpreted as another mention of procrastination and while it's not that apparent as it was with sekahaji, because going in circles can refer to something else and taking a rest sometimes is not a bad thing at all, i still wanted to mention them here. for the record.

you ought to slip and fall in panic in the final moment is connected to a symptom that i showed, yet didn't elaborate on it (because i didn't have anything to work with) — making careless mistakes. the same case, yet with another symptom goes with is this not enough yet again? is this not how it's supposed to be? couldn't we go even further than this?, which can be seen as a reflection of unability to listen to instructions. a bit of reaching with this one (like this whole part damn), but as i said earlier: for the record, i'm leaving it here. to show that i had some intense thoughts.

tbf, when i think about it now, maybe the mentioned earlier "why?!" and "do it like this!!" aren't like you [...] could very well fit this symptom too.

MR SHOWTIME

mr showtime you will always be famous, because this is a song that gave me a looot of things to work with. i was so flabbergasted when i read these lyrics for the first time. tsukasa tenma why are you like this. /aff

there are a lot of lines hinting being easily distracted, and these are basically the very first ones, too: you know what? i just can't make up my mind, it's so messed up that i can't put my thoughts together and a merry-go-round (my thought process) goes round and round are all about it. like you cannot deny it this time, if it's not about being unable to stay focused then i really don't know what is [insert the tsukasa don't look away stamp here because i love it and it's my biggest motivation to actually focus whenever i do something]. the more i mess around and waste time, the more i become hungry / and i can't handle it can be seen as about procrastination again, and even not "can be seen", it's literally being frustrated at yourself for wasting time, that's the sole outcome of a procrastination!! being bothered by feeling anxious, meanwhile, is resonating with the inability to deal with stress once again.

also jumping the gun. driving in a zigzag manner can actually connected with the little to no sense of danger. because, as far as i'm aware, driving in a zigzag manner is certainly not a safe activity. don't do it at home.

from the symptoms that i haven't yet mentioned to this point, am i taking a long way? am i making a fruitless effort? can be reflecting difficulty organizing tasks — since the poor planning of your activities can make you take a long way and can make you do a fruitless effort. then, where's the fun in taking shortcuts all the time? can be read along the lines of something coming close to extreme impatience and while a person that's extremely impatient would actually enjoy taking the shortcuts to get closer to their goal or destination, said impatience can be also connected with the desire for something interesting to happen. a task can make you impatient not because it's long, but because it's simply boring — avoiding shortcuts can make it less boring, even if it extends its duration. with this explanation, it makes the unexpectedness (unexpected program) is the best part of the show (my life) perfectly fit into this category, even though i wouldn't call this line a sign of impatience on its own.

i have some issues with i'm pathetic. i can't satisfy myself, because... at first i thought of connecting it with either mood swings or inability to deal with stress, however i'm not sure if that's really it. i'm pretty sure it connects to neurodivergence in some way, but i just can't put my finger on it, so... i'm just leaving it here for the record, once again.

oh, and there's also i got lost in the world (stage) and / the end credits rolled (the curtain fell), which also is pretty much summing up the experience of being neurodivergent in the neurotypical society. in the middle of trying to stay true to yourself and having to mask just to be accepted, it's easy to get lost — and once you do so, there's no going back. the curtain falls.

to end this part of the analysis, i'd show the lyrics from filament fever and sekai wo terasu tetrad here. i won't do this, however, and the reason for it is fairly simple — they don't give me much material to work with and i'm not really surprised, because mr showtime has succesfully sucked all of the neurodivergent coded lyrics into itself. there just won't be another song like mr showtime, i fear.

i can just say that in filament fever there is running away from the flow of time — which got me thinking of either procrastination and unability to stick to time-consuming tasks, with the former being more plausible as a potential interpretation... but that would be it.

3. NAKAYAMA IS A METAPHOR FOR NEURODIVERGENT MASKING AND IT'S THE STUPIDEST THING I'VE EVER SAID BUT YOU HAVE TO HEAR ME OUT ON THIS

listen, i know how it sounds.

i'm not actually a fan of trying to fit every thing a character does into a box of a metaphor, symbol or allegory, i really am not. i think some things should just stay as simple as they are, but this thought has been bothering me ever since i've first seen spoilers of what's happening in a story where you're the star for the very first time. i'm in no way saying it has any canonical meaning, but i just thought it would be fun to include. because maaaybe someone sees my vision.

for those who haven't seen tsukasa4 yet or want to have a recap of what has happened in it: the whole event story revolves around tsukasa trying to grasp his role (as always). wxs got recommended to shunmei-za by shousuke and went there to practice their acting skills, immediately getting thrown onto the preparation for their next performance. tsukasa, however, is not a lead this time — he got the role of a supporting character and has got basically three lines to say on stage total. since tsukasa's used to playing lead roles, he obviously has issues with grasping the role — it's hard to use method acting in regards of a character that says three sentences total and nothing more. with help of bakuno reki, one of the actors in shunmei-za, and the rest of wxs, he manages to create a portrayal of nakayama that would make him "come to life" and "be a protagonist of his own story", something that would make it easier for him to get into role, however...

he gets a little bit too carried away with his acting during the actual performance.

and this is not something that would ruin the whole play, obviously, he's just a supporting character, the less invested audience would probably forgot about his impact on the story after five minutes of his last appearance — but he still made a slip-up. he still resonated with his role, but didn't achieve the utmost perfection. he still did well acting, after all, he managed to receive praise from the director in the end... but it's still a very apparent mistake that was made.

(tl, once again, by the awesome tsukasa's #3 fan)

and that's where the nakayama masking metaphor theory (it's not even a theory but it sounds cooler this way) comes in.

nakayama is supposed to be just a man. from what we know about him, he's in his late twenties and works as an editor — and even though tsukasa makes up a whole backstory for him later on, he's still supposed to be ordinary. nothing special. he's coming nowhere near the other roles that tsukasa has played, he's not on the same level as miles, torpe and rio. and while you could possibly consider torpe and rio as rather ordinary, they still had something interesting to happen to them, the main reason why they were lead roles for their respective plays. in the tsukasa4 play, nakayama has nothing like that. he's literally just a guy, he's normal. and "normal" is a keyword here.

tsukasa did everything he could to fit into nakayama's role. he followed the script, he took the advice from a more talented and professional actor that is bakuno, he didn't do any mistakes during his preparations — and yet he still managed to mess up in the end. why?, besides of the fact that he just let himself become one with nakayama during the performance and it resulted in a supporting character outshining the lead?

if we take as a fact that tsukasa is, in fact, neurodivergent, it would make sense that he's having troubles with playing a normal person — because he's not exactly normal either. and this would very well work out as a metaphor of masking; even when you try your best, even when you mask yourself perfectly, you can still make slip-ups. you can still accidentally drop the act in middle of something that absolutely required it, or, similiar to what tsukasa did, can accidentally overdo it and end up perceived as even more weird than you'd be without masking. something something i got lost in the world and the end credits rolled. rings a bell?

and i'm not saying that tsukasa has a problem with masking, because he doesn't. he tries his best to pass as a normal member of society, but he also makes no effort in actively masking his weirdness (or else he wouldn't be a part of oddball one two). however, if you want to neurodivergent code your character, it would make sense to include a possibility of it in some way, right? especially since wxs stories' already had the theme of dealing with being perceived as weird (eg. rui's whole backstory, obviously). even if it's not affecting tsukasa directly, i think it would be cool to include something that indicates this issue's existence in his story and, in a way, his struggles.

however, as i said earlier, this is a very stupid thought and that's why i left it for the very end. i don't actually think that how tsukasa played nakayama was supposed to be a metaphor for masking, it's just a pure coincidence that it could be interpreted like that when you think about it too much.

aaand with this, we've finally come to an end!! (finally. i'm so exhausted.) i don't have anything more to say about this topic. maybe i'll retweet it with some more evidence in the future if we ever get more ADHDkasa content. for now, it would be all!

is tsukasa actually intentionally written as an ADHDer? Who Knows! there's a possibility that he is, but even if he's not, he's still one in my heart. regardless of the status of his possible neurodivergence, analyzing his behavior in this light was still very fun! and maybe i even converted someone into the ADHDkasa hell.

feel free to add something if you want to, and feel free to correct me if i got some things wrong! i still hope that even though of how messy this whole thing is written, i did tsukasa justice and didn't accidentally say too much nonsense lmao

...i hate ending analyses.

[bellarkeselection]

Oh my, you're so right. There are not enough Will Halstead fics in the one chicago fandom. I would have an idea for this fine man. Maybe you like it.

It's the best fiends to lovers trope... I'm obsessed with this kind of stuff. They're both idiots in love but are too afraid to destroy their friendship when they would tell the other how they feel. Will is super protective of reader. Reader has a chronic illness (cause I NEED to see him in worried protective doctor mode) like a heart desase or asthma or epilepsy. So he always watches out for her helping her when she feels sick... One day he gets hit on at Molly's and reader sees him flirting with a girl. He starts to date the girl. The girl is super bitchy and is jealous of reader cause she's Wills best friend. So the girl tries to drive a wedge between reader and Will, maybe weave some lies, hurts reader mentally etc so that reader distance herself from Will cause she's hurt of what his girlfriend said to her or how she treats reader. That lead to huge emotional stress which flares up her illness. Reader is feeling bad both emotionally and physically. And it gets dramatic in some kind of way. Maybe Jay or another character notices reader getting worse and tells Will. And first he doesn't belive it, cause his best friend would tell him of she's super sick, wouldn't she? Until reader is admitted to Med or is found unconscious in her apartment or something else.

Sorry for my long rambling. This is just an idea maybe you like some parts of it.

❤️Love

Idiot Friends in Love

Okay so this is one of the longest requests I have gotten for Will so far. I honestly enjoyed writing this so so much and I truly hope I did as much as you asked for 🤗 🤗 🤗 🤗

@annieradcliff

When people talk about having a best friend you have to remember that no relationship is going to be the same as someone else’s. But when my friends think of a best friend duo they look at me and Will Halstead. We’ve been in the others life from the time we were five years old and haven’t left each other’s side since then.

He had went onto to become a doctor and I had persuade working in the same police department as his brother Jay had. Years ago when Will had a fight with his dad about wanting to go off to college I was there for the aftermath when Will stormed out. He told me the main reason he wanted to become a doctor was so that he could help people, especially people like me. I was born a few weeks earlier at the end of my mom’s pregnancy which gave me underdeveloped lungs and asthma.

Walking into Molly’s bar wearing some ripped blue jeans shorts and a white tank top I was looking for Will until I finally found him up at the bar. Striding over I was about to say something until I saw him with a blonde that I couldn’t really stand to be around. Her and I had gotten off to the wrong foot and she basically always made a point to lead my best friend away me. Heading to the bathroom I leaned my body into the wall just needing a minute to myself except to my surprise the very girl I didn’t want to see came up to me. “How long do you think he’s going to be there to babysit you hmm?”

“What are you talking about?” I asked her sensing some annoyance in her tone.

The blonde named Brooke snapped. “I mean he can’t babysit you and be your best friend forever. He is an ED doc and now spends most of his time with me.”

“Did he tell you this?” I questioned her knowing my friend was very busy as was I since I was doing everything I could to someday become a paramedic for Firehouse 51 with my friend Sylvie Brett who had recently joined the team.

Brooke rolled her eyes like I was an idiot or something. “He’s just spending time with you because he’s a doctor and feels it’s his sworn duty to protect you and make sure you’re well.”

“Will and I have been friends since we were five years old. So, I think you’ve got your thoughts mixed up.” Responding to the girl I had faith in my friend way before I would ever believe what this woman was saying.

She throws her hands away from her sides. “I’m just saying he clearly doesn’t have feelings for you like he does for me.”

“How would you know huh. Can you see what he is thinking inside his head cause I certainly can’t.”

She shrugged her shoulders. “I’ve seen your little asthma attacks the first time I met you at this bar. Do you seriously think that he’s gonna want to be with somebody with a disability.”

“I’m done talking to you.” I began walking away from her until she yanked me back by my forearm.

“Just face the facts and realize you’ll just be another patient to him and nothing else.”

Yanking my arm from her grasp I stomped away not bothering to talk to her or Will for the night. The next few weeks I had basically been avoiding Will’s phone calls or texts figuring that she was right that I would always be a patient in his eyes. I decided to take a walk and see Brett so headed to the firehouse seeing her stalking supplies inside the ambulance. “There’s my favorite paramedic.”

“Hey Y/n! I wasn’t thinking I would be seeing you today. How have you been?” She climbed down out of the ambulance coming over and embracing me in a hug.

I wrapped my arms around her hugging her back. “I’m good. How are you and Casey?”

“We’re doing good. I’ve been meaning to ask how are you and Dr. Halstead. I’ve been meaning to ask lately.”

I raised a brow at her question. “Me and Will. I – I don’t understand.”

“Oh please. There’s something clearly going on between you two.” Brett rolled her eyes like I just said something completely ridiculous.

I raised my hands waving them in front of my chest not believing that there was something going on between me and my friend. “I don’t think you understand the relationship that he and I exactly. We are just friends and nothing more. Besides I’m fairly certain he doesn’t think of me in that way.”

“Pfft I’m sorry but that is the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard.” She made a noise snorting out a laugh. “Have you missed the signs where he sends you those lovey doe eyes, looking out for you, and I’ve never seen you hanging around anyone else but him since the day I met you two.”

“Look Brett, I appreciate you being hopeful. But there’s never going to be anything romantic going on with me and Will.” I felt my eyes beginning to water and I ran my fingers through my hair slowly feeling a tightening in my chest. I grabbed my chest gasping for air not expecting this to happen. “I mean why would he ever go for me. He has a girlfriend, regardless if she’s a bitch. But it’s fine – argh!”

Brett rushed forward catching my body before I could hit the concrete. “Y/n! Hey, hey, woah, woah. Kelly! Casey! I need some help out here.” She shouted before my eyes got heavy and I loosened my grip on her arms passing out on her.

I’m not sure how long I was out for by the time I slowly blinked my eyes opened and saw some bright lights that clearly looked like the hospital lights. I sucked in some breaths feeling a mask over my nose and mouth meaning asthma medicine was getting pushed into my body. The curtain drew open and I saw Rhodes enter the room carrying a chart underneath one arm. “Hey Y/n, you’re breathing seems to be doing better. I’ll just slowly take this off now.”

“Thanks Dr. Rhodes – uh where’s Brett – at?” I coughed after he pulled the mask down from my face and helping me sit upright more on the pillows.

He glanced towards the curtain answering my question. “She’s outside by the nurse desk. Will is actually with her too.”

“He is?” I asked leaning up feeling hopeful for a brief second.

He nodded walking out into the hallway waving them inside the room. Brett came in and smiled brightly hugging me and I hugged her back pulling away letting my best friend have my attention more than her. “I’ll let you two talk for a bit. Come talk with you afterwards.” She stepped outside the room back into the hallway leaving the two of us alone.

“I was so worried about you when I saw Brett bring you in like that. I mean I thought we had a better understanding going here. That – that we – “He stuttered out his words frantically running a hand through his auburn curls. “You’re my best friend so I thought you’d tell me if something bad was really going on with you.”

I did my best to lie, biting my lip unknowingly. “Will, I just had a small episode. You know flare ups can happen from almost anything.”

“I’m aware of that. But that’s not the point.”

I snapped. “The point doesn’t matter.”

“Yes it does matter.”

Shaking my head I wished he wasn’t so argumentative like I was. “No it doesn’t. Look I’m fine now so we don’t have to have this conversation anymore.”

“Yes, enough of this. Okay I know you’re lying o me about something and I’m hurt that you didn’t feel comfortable enough to talk to me about it.” He raised his hands in the air.

I rolled my eyes wishing this wasn’t happening right now between us. “You don’t need to know all of my business, William!”

“We’ll excuse me. I thought us being childhood best friends meant we were much closer than you think we are!” He raised his voice at me in frustration.

Clutching my hands into fists punching the hospital bed sheets shouting up at my best friend with some tears falling down my face. “Gosh damn it Will just stop it. I don’t want to be your friend who is always a patient in your eyes. I know that’s all I’m ever going to be!”

“What. Who, who told you that?” Will made a confused face at me.

I scoffed. “That blonde girl named Brooke you’re dating. She told me facts that you clearly aren’t comfortable saying to my face.”

“Why would she say those things. We’re not together anymore.” He responded.

I parted my lips thinking he was joking. “You’re not. Why – why not?”

“She just liked the idea of dating an ED doc. I broke up with her last Friday. That’s what I was wanting to talk with you about in my multiple phone calls. But I guess I got my answer when you never answered.” His gaze lowered down to the floor and he went to leave.

I gently called his attention. “Will, wait a sec. What was the calls about?”

“They were about my feelings for you.”

Sucking in a shacky breath I wasn’t sure how to feel about what he was about to say. “Will, are you saying that you think of me more than a friend?”

Rather than giving me a verbal response he strides forward climbing up onto my bed with his legs on either side of mine. He gently grabs my face in his hands crashing his lips down onto mine not giving me a chance to say anything. It took me a minute before I ran my fingers up his arms wrapping my arms around his kissing him back.

Threading my fingers through his hair, tugging on it hearing him moan into the kiss. I thought this was a dream for a brief moment until he broke the kiss resting his forehead against mine. “You’ve always been more than a friend to me. I just - didn’t want to say anything and ruin what we have if you didn’t feel the same. And don’t ever think for a minute that you’re just a patient to me. You’re anything else but that Y/n.”

“It’s crazy that my reasoning for not telling you how I felt before now is the same reason as yours. It’s a relief we both come off as idiots in love.” I smiled chuckling resting my other hand on his cheek.

He sent me a cheecky grin. “Well can this idiot in love officially ask you out on a date tonight?”

“Yes, yes I’ll go on a date with you.” I leaned forward beginning the next kiss we shared. We were entirely too worried for nothing and it wasn’t too long after a few dates that Will was already working on having me become his Mrs. Halstead.

Comments really appreciated ❤️

[tsuutarr]

So I may or may not be a little (aka a lot) charmed by all of your characters because, my dear, they are absolutely AMAZING and super charismatic!

and then I found myself wondering how they would react if their darlings got a little depressed about how miserable their social life has become... I mean, how do you manage to keep your mental health up with a total of ONE PERSON in your life?!

I was thinking about this because I'm Brazilian, and we are social creatures ya'know, we NEED other people to keep living and believe me, the pandemic situation DID NOT HELP IN THAT ASPECT OF US. Besides, we are touchy people, we greet each other with kisses on the cheek, long and deep hugs whenever we feel like it and I don't really think the oc's would appreciate our affection being distributed like this 😞 unless is with them, which is totally possible because if we are touchy with strangers, with the close ones we are SUPER lovey dovey.

If you could ease my curiosity about this aspect, I would be very, very happy 👉👈 and I don't mean it's just this specific scenario, just being depressed in general, begging for any kind of normal human interaction hahaha.

Anyway, sorry for this LONG text, this has been on my mind since I started reading your works (and they are AMAZING, really, I'm in love with your writing style!). As I said before, I'm Brazilian and English is not my first language, so I'm sorry for any mistakes 🤗.

Wowow thank you so much for your kind words!! I am so happy you like my yandere OCs + my writing style!! Also, this is a very fun request/scenario, tysm for requesting it :3c Your English is great, please don't apologize!

Here's the answer to your request down below!!

So, Jiu's case is really interesting because he has the intellect, power, AND money to ensure that he's the closest person to you even if he DOESN'T lock you up. He's basically puppeteering your life from the background while giving you a sense of free will (e.g., you got into your specific college because of HIM, you got your specific job because of HIM, and so on). Getting him to isolate you from society would only really happen if you rejected him/began to distance yourself from him.

If you got too lonely because you could only interact with him, Jiu would cosplay and roleplay any person/character you wanted to in order to give some illusion of diverse human interaction. If you became depressed, he'd get you a therapist and anything else you might need, but... make no mistake, that therapist (while licensed properly) is NOT on your side.

On occasion, Jiu would allow you to interact with his paid workers while he's watching. Like, he'll hire a "friend" for you (who only visits at 11 AM on Fridays) and let you talk to the nanny and stuff, but that'd be it. Now, he'll be controlling your life from the frontlines rather than the backdrop and there's really nothing you can do about it, oops.

For Finley... he's actually a very clueless yandere + extremely pathetic. His emotions are very volatile so he's easy to upset/please. When he isolates you from society, it's because he thinks it's for the greater good. People are so corrupt, can't you see? He's only doing it to protect you. If you got depressed due to only being able to interact with him, he'd just cling even harder to you. After all, you're lonely because he hasn't been spending enough time with you, right (wrong)? For him, he'd understand that you seem sad, but he wouldn't understand why. He's just protecting you! Though, he may get you some pets -- he's VERY partial to animals and likes them quite a bit more than he likes humans.

Oh man, so Tynan has mind magic, so his solution is pretty messed up. He'll either hypnotize you to be okay with your situation OR give you dreams where you interact with people. His dream magic is scary because it's genuinely really hard to tell dreams from reality, so before long, you'll be tricked into thinking you spent time with the people you love when really, you were sleeping on Tynan's lap the whole time.

As for the abandoned water god... he does care about you, but not enough to let you interact with other people, even if you're feeling depressed. After you basically helped awaken him after he was forgotten for centuries, he's super obsessed with you. He doesn't need anyone else as long as he has you, so he thinks that you don't need anyone else since you have him. He'll take you to go see a bunch of sea animals, though! But those sea animals are the only other living beings you'll see. Not to mention that he's practically cursed with immortality, sooo... yeah, you're not escaping him.

Finally, for the farmer... he lives pretty isolated on his big farm anyway, so if you're his neighbor, you're already kind of isolated from everyone else. The farmer isolates you by making you dependent on him so you'll stay by his side willingly rather than locking you up. For the most part, he'll actually let some people (who are not romantically interested in you) visit you -- in fact, he actually doesn't mind it if your family visits because they all adore him (and it's so so so cute to see them tease you about how you must be dating him). But woo boy, you are very very very rarely going to be able to leave the farm. Issues crop up one way or another: blocked road, punctured tire, empty gas tank, etc... so, really, you can't leave. Unless, well, he escorts you. But it might just be better to stay on the farm since it's much more convenient, you know?

[frozenmoonshine]

Headcanon - Hanma Shuuji as your boyfriend

Ok, I hate myself for writing this, 'cause I hate this bitch just as much as Pissaki, but I've been fighting my intrusive fluffy thoughts about him and they won, sooo here they are:

Beware of insinuated hetero relationship, f!reader, and common terms of endearment.

He's a flirt, definitely. He knows he gets lots of attention from the fairer sex simply for being tall and good looking, but he also loves the fact that he's a smooth talker and can get pretty much any girl to fall for him. And he's not better than doing just that, simply because he needs some amusement in his life. Talk about being a piece of shit, going around breaking hearts for fun.

‌However, if he genuinely falls for someone, he basically does a 180⁰ turn and is the most loyal lover you could get! He will, most definitely and undeniably, try to make his SO jealous by casually flirting left and right, just because he can, and he enjoys seeing your frustrated, annoyed, jealous face. However, if you get jealous or hurt for real, he will genuinely freak out, and will try his best to reassure you that he loves you and that he was just messing with you. You are the only one for him, after all, his safe haven and his light! If he realizes that he stepped overboard with his "jokes", he will change his behaviour immediately. Idk why, but he just gives me the vibe of someone who perfectly understands boundaries, and he will choose to honor his commitments.

‌He himself is not jealous at all, and no matter what you may do, he wouldn't get jealous. The bastard is just so cocky and aware of his desirability (even tho he overestimates himself quite a lot), it's unnerving! But unless he straight up catches you "red handed" with another guy, he won't be jealous in the slightest. And if that happens, if you do cheat on him, then he might just beat your side piece to a pulp, and walk out on you like you never even existed. He will be heartbroken about it for a long time, tho.

‌Don't do him dirty, even as annoying and flawed as he is, he is still worth it! He can be super loving and affectionate in private, and he will be your no. 1 cheerleader, in whatever you're aspiring to achieve. Tell him all about your adventures tho, he loves a good story!

‌He gets too easily bored, so he would fall head over heels for someone who can engage him in deep and interesting conversations, and be a bit of a tease as well, just enough to always keep him on the edge of his seat, but not to overdo it. After all, he is the tease one in the relationship, and he doesn't like the idea of giving up that title.

‌Speaking of him being a tease... yes, he's absolutely insufferable! In every sense. (Yes, that too!)

‌Dates with him are always so random and spontaneous, like, he'd take you on a bike ride to the beach at 3 AM, and you'd make sand castles in the dead of the night, just because. It's totally not because he's secretly a hopeless romantic and wanted to watch the sunrise with you, btw. Or he might get you out of your school/work just to take you to the rooftop of the highest building in his neighborhood, where you guys can throw water baloons on the passers-by down there, and photograph their reactions. Or you two would be in a middle of a rollercoaster ride and he'd scream into your ear: "Babe, let's go have a picnic in the woods, this ride is boring!" The worst best part - his idea of a "picnic" is pranking hikers by making weird noises. At least one thing is for sure with him - there is never a single dull moment!

‌But even as the chaos elemental that he is, he is actually looking for (inner) peace. He would want to feel safe and taken care of in a relationship, and I can picture him falling for his childhood friend. If not that, then he'd definitely go for the cozy, domestic, girl-next-door type. Despite what he shows to the outer world, he just craves familiarity and warmth.

‌His friend-turned-girlfriend definitely calls him Shuu-chan. He pretends it annoys him, but there's nothing he loves hearing more. And I will die on that hill if need be!

[romanreignsbae]

I’ll help you - R.R

Me and my boyfriend Joe of 2 years now have always supported eachother no matter the circumstances. More recently Joe's schedule has been hectic as ever, because football season has started and he has a minor problem consuming him.

Since he came into college on a full ride scholarship for football this doesn't mean grades don't matter. He's an student athlete so his grades are always took into consideration before football.

Me and him have basically have all our classes together. In one class specifically, he's been struggling and is on the verge of failing, if his grade goes any lower, he will be taken off the football team until it goes back up and he can't have that.

We have a test in 2 days that's worth enough to bring his mark back up, so here I am in our dorm room trying to help him study.

I'm explaining the question thoroughly to make sure he understands. "So, Joe do you get it?" I ask him. I get no response so I look up at him seeing he's staring at me in awe. He then keeps eye contact while pushing my hair out of my face and tucking it behind my ear. I blush profusely.

"Your so gorgeous baby, you know that" he talks in low voice while questioning me. But no- I can't fall for this right now.

"No Joe don't try to sweet talk your way outta this, you gotta get your grade up otherwise you won't be able to play" I remind him. He groans loudly before throwing his head back clearly annoyed.

I don't blame him because this is a pretty hard class, even for me. "C'mon Joe-" I get cut off with lips being smashed onto mines.

I try to pull away but he only deepens the kiss. I decide to let him get everything outta him, before I lecture him a little. He pulls away smiling at me with a proud look on his face. He reaches out and runs his finger over my now bruised bottom lip.

"Joe now seriously let's do a few more questions…then we can lay down and take a nap together" I try to compromise.

"Alright fine" he replies. What takes about 30 minutes we get through about 4 questions and I can see Joe's kinda starting to get the hang of it.

"Can we finally lay down?!” he pleads me in a whiny voice.

I nod my head and leads me to our bed. I lay down on my back and he crawls on top of me, laying his head on my chest. I start running my hands through his hair and within a few minutes I hear light snores. Before I know it I feel myself falling into a deep sleep too.

I wake up the next morning and get ready for my first class. I always wake up earlier then Joe because I like a fresh start to my day. I usually wake Joe up around 15 minutes before we leave cause he barely takes any time to get ready.

We get through all our classes and before we know it, it's break. Me and Joe hold hands walking through the courtyard. Usually during break we just sit under a tree and chill. I read occasionally if he wants to throw a football around with his friends. But it's rare cause he claims he would rather spend his time with me.

We place ourselves down under the big tree that gives a shadow to block the sun. I open my book bag and pull out the text books we need for him to study.

"Babyyyy nooo, not during break" he whines. I try not to giggle at his tone.

"Yes Joe, you have a practice that runs late tonight, when you get home your not gonna wanna study and the test is tomorrow, so you need to study" I explain.

He surprisingly complies and nods while he leans his head onto my shoulder.

"Ok so I'm gonna give you a few practice questions, and if you need help wait until the end, I want you to try these yourself at first" I announce.

I grab my notebook and write out a few questions. I hand the book over to him and I see him writing. A few minutes later he hands me back the notebook.

He had a confident look on his face and I hate to burst his bubble but these were all wrong. "Joe sweetie, these are wrong, but you got all the steps right, your just rushing the end" I exclaim.

He's truly so smart he just needs to try harder, and if he did I'm confident he would be doing phenomenal in all his classes.

"I know, I just don't have any motivation for this type stuff" he tells me. He leans forward and tries to give me a kiss. I back away and he groans.

"Y/n baby, please let me kiss you" he begs. A idea then pops into my head.

"Okay Joe, how bout every question you get right, you get a kiss, but… don't rush otherwise you won't get one" I compromise to him.

His eyes light up. He shoots up and sits up straight. "Yeah yeah lets do that, gimme some questions" he says almost excitedly. I laugh at his excitement.

I hand him the notebook and this time he takes about 20 minutes, I calmly read waiting for him.

I look over the answers and squeal. "Yes Joe! These are all right! I'm so proud of you, your gonna do great on the test" I exclaim.

He smiles at me proudly "that's because I have the best tutor" he tells me. He then quickly pulls me by my sweater and smashes his lips onto mine. We share a mini makeout session, until I feel my head throbbing in pain.

I quickly pull away and keep my eyes shut, the pain is so bad. "Hey! What the fuck man! Why the fuck would you do that" I hear Joe yelling.

I open my eyes and see that a football is right beside me. Great. I've had a football thrown at my head.

"Owww" I whine out while trying to contain myself from crying.

Joe collects all my books and puts them into my bag, he then picks me up and I nuzzle my face into his neck, his cologne calming and distracting me from the pain.

When he stops walking I open my eyes to see we are in the nurses office. Joe explains what happend to me to the nurse.

She quickly tests me out. "Ok well, it's not a concussion, but I suggest you rest now, stay home from school tomorrow and go back if you feel right" she tells me.

I thank her and we leave, while we walk to our dorm room, Joe's shit talking the guy who through the football at me, and about how he's gonna beat him up during practice.

When we get back Joe lays me down on our bed and gets a ice pack placing it on my head.

"I'm gonna stay here, instead of go to practice today" he lets me know.

I feel guilt wash over me. "No no, go Joe I'll be alright" I try to convince him. He doesn't budge at all though and pulls me onto his chest.

The rest of the night we spend cuddled up in our bed watching movies and order takeout.

The next morning I wake up before Joe per usual and decided I don't feel good enough to go to school. I wake up Joe and inform him he needs to get ready, but I'll be staying here.

He offers to stay with me, but I protest since he has that test today.

"Your gonna do great baby, just remember take your time and double check your answers." I tell him.

When it's time for him to go he kisses me softly before asking if I need anything before he leaves, which i refuse to.

I spend my day reading a book I've needed to get to, I took the opportunity since I had nothing better to do.

I look at the time and see Joe should be back any minute. While I'm finishing the book I hear the door slam open. I turn to my side to see Joe with a massive smile on his face.

"Baby, baby! Look what I got on the test" he practically yells. He walks over to me and sticks his hand out. I take the paper from him to see '93%' bolded in red in the corner of the page.

"Joe, you did it! I knew you could do it! I'm so proud of you!" I tell him excitedly.

The rest of the night is a calm night, I decide I need some fresh air so I sit on the bleachers reading during Joe's practice. And we spend our night embraced in each other's arms.

[wordstome]

the very first night (ntwdt pt 2)

tell me that you hate it hate that i'm no longer in your reach if i can't hear you say it maybe you can't change it, but if you never if you never put it on the line how am i gonna sign for it?

alpha colonel König x beta ex-lover reader

2nd person, no y/n, she/her pronouns, reader's callsign is Eden, reader speaks French, omegaverse, exes to lovers, fraternization, fantasy version of military protocol, probable incorrect use of "copy"

2.2k words

tw: mentions of dead bodies and vague violence, dirty talk, könig is in rut but no actual sex happens, mention of grinding

Do you guys still even remember this au??? 😅 I'm back to writing this fic with this specific format just like the last time I had bad writer's block. I'm sorry that I basically made you guys take a poll and then immediately disregarded the results :( metalhead König is going to be the next one published, and then kosovo maiden. Anyway, this is less of a foray into the omegaverse as it is into exploring a married couple's dynamic. Forgive me if it's inaccurate, I've never been married. (Several of the people who will probably read this are married so...I might be really embarrassing myself here lol)

“Two on your six, O’Conor.”

König watches as his colleague takes down his pursuants with practiced ease. “Good to have someone watching over me, Eden.” the man roughs into his comms.

“It was my pleasure, Declan.”

“Can you two keep the flirting off the main comms?” Fender huffs. König hears O’Conor snort before the line goes quiet.

“Steady,” Horangi says next to him.

“What?” König says.

“You’re breathing like an angry bull. It’s unnerving.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“It’s obvious you’re mad O’Conor’s flirting with your ex-wife.”

“She’s not—“ König lets out a sigh of defeat and tips his head away from the scope. “She can do whatever she wants. I’m not her keeper.”

“Right, which is why you’re white-knuckling your rifle and giving off the most furious pheromones I've ever felt."

König gives his friend a deadly side eye. “Can I help you?”

“Nah. Just confirming what I already know”, Horangi answers, unbearably smug.

König rolls his eyes and returns to the task at hand.

The two of you avoid each other, mostly.

When you’re forced to interact, it's with stiff professionalism. Cold and distant. The way it was when it was really, really bad.

You spend your time becoming closer to the other operators. O'Conor, for one, is someone you find yourself growing close to. In your line of work, it's usually not a good idea to get too attached to someone who may not see the next day, but it's part of your job to know these people now.

They're so competent that you can ignore the obvious, anyway.

König's always been competent, but watching him work nowadays is strange, like watching a remake of a nostalgic childhood film.

His movements are the same. He flicks his wrist the same way, with a heartbeat's worth of pause before the movement. Him taking cover, leaning with that awful posture you always got on his case about.

But everything about him is more ruthless, more efficient. The unrefined brutality of his youth is replaced with a honed precision that is foreign to you.

It stings, though you know the feeling has no right to exist.

You can't keep yourself from reminiscing about the past, when everything about him was familiar. When you knew him so well, it was enough to save both your lives.

"We've lost comms with König."

Your heart drops into your throat. You've been on several ops with him at this point, but this has never happened before.

"What do you mean you've lost comms?"

"He's not responding."

"What?" Fear grips your heart at everything that implies.

"He's in your building, Eden. Find him and extract. Copy."

You move slowly, like ice is flowing through your veins. "Copy."

You will yourself to calm down. Lost communications doesn't mean anything but lost communications. Panicking that you're going to encounter his body will only ensure you end up as a corpse as well. Besides, who could ever take down a man like that, tall like a giant and quick like a viper as he is?

If you had lost comms, what would you do? Re-establish them, of course. Pick your way out of the building and do everything in your power to reconnect with your team. From where König entered, he'd be exiting the building on the east side. You turn to head that way, then hesitate.

König's not you, though. He's not like any other member of the team. Proud, arrogant, vicious König, far more so than other alphas. You used to be afraid of him while he was at work, but eventually you came to realize that was simply how he was in his element—a different persona he wore to battle. As much as you wished he would be sensible and take the safe route, König would never take the safe route. He'd be carrying on the mission on his own, moving towards the target at the center of the building.

But he's a professional. No matter how good he is at what he does, he's not a one-man army, and he knows the right thing to do would be to extract. It's a gamble. If you head towards the east exit and he's not there, you could be losing precious time to find him. But if you head towards the center, you could be walking right into a fight you can't win and become overwhelmed.

You let out a shaky breath and attempt to calm your mind. What would he do? What is he thinking? If you make the wrong call, if you don't know your lover as well as you think you do, one of you won't be walking out of here. You close your eyes and think.

You open them with newfound determination and turn towards the center of the building.

You'd been right, of course, judging by the fallen enemies you find as you move through the hallways. But you don't allow yourself to feel sure until the moment you lay eyes on him, securing the target—a hard drive containing sensitive information.

"König!" you hiss, just as he whips towards you, gun drawn. He relaxes when he sees it's only you. Despite the fraught situation you're in, you can't help yourself from dashing towards him and burying your face into his chest in a hug.

"Eden," he says, his relief evident.

"You stupid motherfucker," you hiss. "You should have extracted the moment your comms cut out."

His eyes crinkle up behind his mask the way they always do when he smiles. "You knew I wouldn't."

"Yes, because I am burdened with being one of the few people on this earth who knows you like the back of my hand. Atlas holding up the sky," you grumble.

"I know you're relieved to see me," he responds, joy evident in his tone.

You let out a sigh. "Can we just get out of here?"

"Aye-aye, captain."

You could do without those memories, you think whenever the two of you trade clipped exchanges during ops now.

König still has traces of the arrogance of his youth, but it shows through less now. He's wiser, more patient and far less reckless.

You catch yourself admiring how good of a leader he's become. His connection with his teammates is like muscles flexing a hand.

You're no longer a part of that nervous system.

In fact, he's always catching you off guard now.

The energy in the common area is weird today.

You can’t quite put your finger on it. It’s like everyone’s walking on eggshells, but at the same time, nobody’s mood seems to be that affected. It’s like you’re all mice living in someone’s walls: going about business as usual, but with some looming threat casting a pall over everything.

“Is it just me or does the energy on base feel off today?” you ask Calisto.

“Oh. Yeah, that. Don’t worry about it,” she says. She swings open the refrigerator and pulls out coffee creamer. “No need for concern. König’s in rut.”

You do a double take. “He is?”

“Yeah.” She’s casual about it as she dumps cream and sugar into her coffee. “Usually he has a pretty light rut—he just gets testy and irritated. But for some reason this time is bad.” She offers you the cream, but you shake your head. “Don’t know what’s up with him, but he had to barricade himself in his room. His scent is driving people up the wall.”

You stare at the table in front of you. It can’t be a coincidence that König’s rut gets worse as soon as you’re near him again, can it?

When you look up, Horangi is staring at you from across the room. Slowly, he raises his mug to his lips, never once taking his eyes off of you.

You swallow the lump in your throat.

Calisto was right. The scent is overwhelming, but it's also familiar. You can't blame the others for avoiding the area. If you'd never dealt with him in this state before, you'd be hightailing it out of there too. Which is why you're doing this despite...everything.

You hover outside his door, trying to gather yourself, or work up the nerve to knock, or anything. It doesn’t matter in the end, though.

“I can smell you, liebling,” comes his voice, deep and growling and verging on feral. A shiver runs up your spine. You haven’t been called that in a long, long time.

“I only came here to bring you things. Water and…snacks.” you stammer, instantly hating yourself for how weak you sound.

“All these years later…and you still smell the same.” He blows right past your feeble little excuse, not even dignifying it with a response.

“I’m just here to check on you,” you murmur.

“Is that so.” You gasp as you hear a loud thud against the door from the other side. Oh God, it’s him, his body heat almost burning through the wood, pressed so close that you can hear his heaving breaths. “How kind of you.”

“It’s the least I can do, considering…”

“Considering it’s your fault I’m like this in the first place?”

Your legs feel weak. “Yes.”

His voice is silky, dangerous despite the barely restrained lust behind it. “Good girl.”

“That’s not fair,” you whisper.

“That’s a shame. You used to like it when I called you that. Still do, according to my nose.”

You wish he wasn’t right, but he is. You’re so slick that you’re soaking your underwear.

“Do you want the water or not?”

“Are you going to come with it?”

“I—”

“Because I promise you, if you’re still standing there when I open this door, you will get fucked against it.” He sounds like a savage animal snapping his jaws in hunger, and fuck, your body feels hot and weak in response. Every cell in your body is screaming out for you to throw open that door and let him fuck you limp. If you told him to break down the door, you’re sure that he would.

“You can’t say that anymore,” you whisper, hating the words as they leave you.

That seems to bring König back to rationality. You can picture him now on the other side of the door, shoulders slumping as he withdraws back into himself. "I...I'm sorry."

You slide down to sit on the ground with your back to the door, gripping a water bottle in a clenched fist. "It's like no time has passed at all, huh?"

You hear him let out a shaky breath, clearly trying to collect himself and bite back words he can't say. "Yeah."

That's the thing, isn't it? Your biology and his got the two of you into this situation in the first place. Very little of that has changed. Even though you've grown distanced in your minds, your bodies haven't forgotten the connection.

You're still struggling with how to feel about that. So much of your life has been dictated by what your body needs and wants. You've spent just as much time bucking against those needs and wants, so much that it feels like second nature.

"All of this...it takes me back. Do you remember the first night I spent with you during a rut?" you say. For a while you don't think he's heard you, but then he responds.

"How could I forget? It's my most embarrassing memory."

"Still?"

"I swore I would never let something like that happen again."

You giggle a little. "It was cute, for what it's worth." That first time, you'd come prepared with water and food, just like you had tonight, prepared for a long night full of...strenuous exercise. Instead, König had gotten so overwhelmed at his first rut with a partner that he came by just grinding on your leg and immediately fell into a 12-hour sleep.

"Yeah, you've said that. Doesn't make me cringe any less."

"And I'll say it again, it wasn't as bad as you think it is." You idly trace the cap of the water bottle with a fingertip. "There's no shame between us."

Another long pause before he responds. "Was."

A dull, throbbing pain nestles itself below your sternum.

"It...doesn't have to be past tense," you put forth tentatively.

"Doesn't it? We've gone right back to being strangers. You're still on the other side of the door."

You bite your lip. You can't deny that, nor the distance that's grown between the two of you.

This is all happening too fast. You don't know if you want to close the gap. You don't know if you're ready to make amends, after what happened.

"You're in no condition to have this conversation," you say, to distract both him and yourself.

"Conversation with you is hard to come by nowadays."

"Well...let's change that. Starting when your rut's over. Let's try talking like normal people again." This time, you don't know if you can blame your stupid biology for the relief you feel saying that. Maybe this time it's nothing but you and your treacherous heart.

You hear a thump against the door, but not an aggressive one. More like he's leaned his head against it. "I guess we have to start somewhere."

More silence. Then he speaks again, his voice tremulous.

"Can you stay? It's easier when you're here."

You swallow, your mouth gone dry like a desert. You can barely manage your next two words. "Of course."

The rest of the night is quiet, but you know he's there. At one point, you can even hear his steady, even breathing. Somewhere along the way, you notice that your breathing has synced with his.

The two of you fall asleep like that, propped up next to each other with a single layer of wood between you.

I miss you like it was the very first night...

I only revised this once while exhausted out of my fucking mind at 3am, so forgive me if anything's awkward or clunky. I'll probably go through it again in the morning (and die of cringe). But there we go! I hope you guys enjoy. As always, I would love to see your thoughts and comments <3

Regarding my tag lists: I've had to leave out a few people, so if you see your url missing from this, please let me know and I'll add you back. Also, apologies if you're here despite not asking to be tagged for this particular story. I haven't gotten around to sorting out fic-specific taglists yet 🥲

@kneelingshadowsalome @danibee33 @crowbird @poohkie90 @cumikering @iytatsworld @papaver-decervicatus @anxietyrain @cookiepie111 @no1runawaymilkdad @chthonian-spectre @backwards-readings @yxllowtxpe @hexqueensupreme @violetstyless @her-majesty-theking @vegan-peppermint @peonytarian @ghostslittlegf @deaddainish @teehee-47 @catluvwr @keiva1000 @waves-against-a-cliff @channelsoph @cutiecusp @itsagrimm @dins-riduur-anthe @mantishymns @lexuria @complexivelovely @black-moon-bunny @kit-williams @shebibtedmypepnis @mafer383

[silly-writes]

Hi! I love your work! Can you do a Mike + alters, Scott, Alejandro (seperate) x reader where the reader has really bad sensory issues, especially with loud noises, and can have panic attacks from them? if your not okay with writing this then that’s totally fine /gen. it’s important to take care of yourself.

Contestants with reader who gets overstimulated.

Aaa thank u for this request anon! Yes i'm totally comfortable writing this kind of stuff! Thanks for being so kind about it! As an autistic person with really bad sensory issues myself I actually find it a thearputic, lol. Okay enough about me, enjoy!

Mike

dealing with a traumagenic disorder (DID) I would imagine he's honestly kind of in the same boat.

He's no stranger to panic attacks, and is pretty well versed by now in how to deal with them.

The first time it happens though he's sort of an anxious wreck, he's just nervous that trying to help might make it worse, but he doesn't want to leave your side.

He gives you lot's of words of encouragement, and helps you through breathing exercises, and gets you plenty of water.

"It's okay, breathe with me, I'm right here," he assures you gently.

If you require pressure/physical contact during your panic attacks, he's more than happy to give you that.

He gets good at catching them too, he'll always be able to identify when you're about to spiral because of too much noise or too bright lights, and he'll find a quiet secluded room so he can work through it with you.

"Sorry you have to deal with this too," you said, after a particularly bad one, you still felt dizzy, and tears still stained your face, but you had come out of it now, and felt a little guilty.

"Hey don't apologize, I don't mind. Not at all."

He's just very caring with this kind of stuff in general.

Manitoba

Maintoba is similar to Mike, and I would think he likes to carry around a backpack whenever he is fronting (you never know when you're going to run into treasure). So he always keeps noise canceling headphones and a pair of sunglasses in there just for you.

Honestly I headcanon him as the caretaker of the system, so I imagine he's used to caring for people during panic attacks.

He's very observant, probably even more so than Mike, so he's better at avoiding them all together by identifying what situations you can handle and what you can't.

He always does a little research before the two of you go out in the environment to ensure that it doesn't seem loud/bright/overstimulating.

However sometimes these things are just unavoidable, and inevitable.

He'll provide you with whatever physical comfort you require, if any at all.

Anything you need, he's there to get for you.

"Take all the time in the world treasure, I'll still be here," he said.

He's all around good at keeping you grounded, and just good at being there with you.

Svetlana

I would think Svetlana is probably the protector/gatekeeper, most of her comfort comes from her just being fiercely loyal.

She'll be there no matter what, and you take great comfort in that fact.

She's not as good with being traditionally comforting, since it's a little out of her element.

Not that she doesn't try of course, she really cares about you, and she wants that to come across.

(I would think she would panic a little and ask Manitoba and Mike for help from the inner world).

But she would absolutely stay with you, coaching you through breathing exercises, talking to try and distract you.

Eventually if you let her know what you need (be it space, a distracting, physical comfort, quiet, dark) you name it, she will get it for you.

She's much better at caring for you after the panic attack honestly, when you feel really tired and put out, disoriented and just overwhelmed.

"Svetlana's here now to melt all your worries away," she smiled at you once.

She'll almost always bring you home, or take you to a secluded room, and just hangout with you. She'll turn all the lights off and sit in silence with you so you can have basically zero sensory input for a little while.

She'll absolutely stay with you until you feel yourself again.

Mal

Okay things with Mal are a little tricky.

He's for sure a former prosecutor and after a bit of system healing, definitely prosecutor turned protector.

Don't get me wrong though, he can still be a little nasty and snarky sometimes, but he's working on getting better.

Which is why he feels sort of out of his element when he's with you when you're having a panic attack.

He's not good at being comforting, and he barely knows what to do when he has a panic attack, so the first time it happens he completely freezes up.

He might even let someone else front to help you out instead of him.

After a while he gets better at keeping up with your triggers, and while he remains pretty awful at being comforting, he's good at grounding you.

He's glad sometimes that being there is enough sometimes, he doesn't know what he'd do if it wasn't.

"Sorry I can't do more..." he said one day.

You smile at him "You being here is enough sometimes."

Scott

Scott is also somewhat of a wreck I would imagine.

Growing up fairly isolated on a farm he's understandably really rough with being intune with people's emotions, he's not really all that good at reading you. Or anyone for that matter.

The first few times, he's shocked everytime.

What could be making you feel like this? He had no idea.

He would definitely need a list of all of your triggers, you have to tell him what helps you and what doesn't outright. Scott doesn't really like playing guessing games, especially when it comes to your safety and comfort.

Clear communication becomes pretty important for the two of you in all honesty, and the two of you work at it all the time.

Eventually he gets better at serving you during panic attacks, or meltdowns, he knows what to do after a little while.

Again I would think he's really good at protecting, so I think he's super good at keeping people away when he sees you're overstimulated.

"Don't touch them!" he huffed when someone was trying to tap you to get your attention.

Overall, he's really really trying for you, and knowing that is comfort enough.

Alejandro

It's no secret that Alejandro is very intune with people, just one of his many skills.

So he can tell right away from his very first meeting you, any loud noises, bright lights, things like that just don't mix well with you.

He steers clear of them when around you, always guiding you more towards quieter, much calmer and secluded dates.

When driving he turns the music down, and makes sure that all audio input looks like its helping you and not harming you.

Plus I feel like (and this is totally me projecting btw) he would carry around stim toys for you to distract yourself with, and headphones for when things are a lot.

But again, sometimes things just happen, and try as he might to protect you, it's not always possible.

He can always tell when things are getting to be a lot for you, he's good at reading everyone but you in specific.

He's really good at covering for you, if someone is asking where you are, or needs/wants to talk to you when you need to be alone he'll keep them away from you.

He'll spend as much time as you need helping you.

"Are you feeling better mi amor?" He would ask.

"Almost-" you said, voice a little course and shaky "-sorry," you said softly.

"Don't apologize, I don't mind at all."

Alejandro can be really nurturing when he wants to be.

He might deny it, deny it to the ends of the earth but he's very good at taking care of you.

[rayshippouuchiha]

Hi Ray! If I could, I wanted to ask you for some advice from one writer to the other

You see, I'd like to write smut for the first time, I've read plenty of it and I have a lot of ideas of what I would like to write, but whenever I get to the actual writing I just... sort of freeze? It never happens when I write literally anything else (be it fluff, angst, comedy, it doesn't matter) it only happens with smut, I just feel like it's never good enough and no matter how hard I try, I never seem to push myself into writing it, which is a shame because I have way too many horny thots I wanna write

(I've also have 0 experience irl so like, maybe that's it? But I know authors who have no experience like me and yet write the most beautiful smut I've ever read, so Idk)

So I wanted to ask, do you have any advice on how to deal with writing smut? Ofc if you don't wanna talk about it (I know some people might be uncomfortable with the topic) please do ignore this ask, I'm really sorry if it's a bother or anything negative, I just thought I'd, Idk, try asking anyway? I'm just *Glances at the 30-something smut ideas I have written down in my notes* getting kinda desperate I guess

You're no problem darling, so don't worry!

My go-to advice tends to be to go read some smut but pay attention to what you do and do not find appealing in each scene so you can help build your own frame of reference. Even if you've read plenty in the past, give it another go, this time with the purpose of basically taking notes.

Beyond that, since you freeze up on smut maybe don't try to jump 10 toes in right off the bat?

You can break the scene up, have snippets of what's happening instead of one flowing continuous scene? Having it be in more bite-sized portions might help it not seem so overwhelming for you to write.

Maybe write a small outline of how you'd like the scene to go, just bullet points of specific acts? That way you can get the order you want things to happen down and can go back and flesh them out afterward.

Also, if you're comfortable with it, watch some porn/hentai/etc? Like the issue could be that you're having a hard time visualizing everything so porn could actually help with that.

Also, if you're feeling self-conscious about whether or not it'll be Good, don't worry about that, just write. You can always edit later, never forget that.