#yes I know it's fatigue for different reasons

[lxcke]

My Hancock Headcanons

Some of these are a little OOC from the game but I'm rewriting the Commonwealth to have darker and more realistic overtones. 1.9k words.

Can't bring himself to take Daytripper anymore. The euphoric effects hooked him hard for a while and it's one of the reasons why he used to do benders so much.

Doesn't wear the red frock coat while out adventuring because he can't bear the thought of getting it burned up or ruined.

Some hair follicles survived on the top of his head and there are tiny tufts of platinum silver hair that grow in. He lost his hair pigment in the ghoulification process, and they fall out or break off before the strands can get very long as it's very brittle.

Tries to one-hand his double-barrel shotgun like a flintlock pistol and regularly messes up his wrist joint because of the kickback.

His eyes appear pitch black, but if you look closely or shine a light on them, you'll notice that his eyes are actually just a really, really dark red from burst blood vessels (radiation poisoning side-effect). In some areas where the black hasn't taken over, there are broken flecks of grey in there.

Hancock is a caffeine junkie.

He deals with fatigue and arthritis from ghoulification (his bones did not take kindly to the radiation.) The pain lessens during radstorms, where he feels incredibly rejuvenated, and often hyper.

Favors Mentats and Jet because they're "less heavy" chems. He takes the Mentats to help himself properly fulfil the role as a responsible mayor. Long-term use has led to him learning a lot in a short time span, leading to his extremely high INT stat.

He favors Jet because it helps sooth the fire in his brain after overdoing work on Mentats. They balance each other out.

Used to wear a lot of jewelry and had piercings in his youth but found out the hard way that they snag during a fight, so they had to go.

Keeps his switchblade(s) in his boot.

Was taught how to sew by his mom as a kid and is now the guy everyone goes to when they end up with holes in their clothes. He keeps his John Hancock getup in good condition.

Isn't a huge fan of swimming. He can swim but it makes him feel incredibly uneasy. He needs his boots on the ground.

Bad temperature regulation. He gets cold at a slight breeze and hot on a sunny day. His tricorn hat keeps the sun off of him.

Some people headcanon that he has heightened senses, but I beg to differ. The dude has bad vision. He uses a shotgun so it's harder to miss. You'll often catch him squinting at documents and terminals. He knows the smell of specific chemicals like the back of his hand, but he doesn't necessarily pick up scents "better."

E.g. you'll both catch a whiff of something weirdly metallic, and he just pops off with, "ah, yes, Psychojet with a little too much jet saturation and a smidge of black mold in the container. Feelin' bad for whoever just took that; that's some low-quality stuff."

Back in his human days, he was a degenerate junkie back in Diamond City. He was a sleazeball with high charisma; let's just leave it at that.

DC guards would regularly sweep him off the curb near the Dugout Inn or bust him selling chems to the locals behind the stands.

As alluded to in the game dialogue, Hancock would go on benders in Goodneighbor and would often shack up with the locals. He used sex as an escape almost as frequently as chems. He has a lot of experience due to this, but he also has his fair share of "horror stories."

He's now a lot pickier about who he shares a mattress with, but whoever gets lucky with Hancock? Say goodbye to your dignity because he will systematically destroy that shit just because he feels like it.

Gave the player character chems so they'd get hooked and be dependent on him to provide. He was buying insurance so they wouldn't betray him if push came to shove. He also just wanted a smoke buddy for the road.

Hancock is a selfish person. He wears the "easygoing helpful stoner friend" persona to try and make right for his previous sins. "Hancock" is the good guy face. "John" is a cynical bastard.

Only his closest, most trusted friends will ever call him John or see that side of him.

Often can't sit still and has sensory-seeking tendencies (just a smidge touch of the ADHD. Could be a side effect of chem-usage as well.)

As a young child, he grew up in a waterfront cabin with his older brother and mother. His father was a drifter and was rarely seen. John can't remember his name or face well, but his mom is a shining star in his memory.

John falls back into the Daytripper habit after finding out his brother was replaced with a synth. The player character pulls him out of it if they're close enough. If not, he keeps it quiet. Nobody will notice, right?

His eyes are very mirror-like and have that "red-eye glow" effect when a bright light is directed at him. Sometimes, in the heat of battle, one can literally see the fire reflected back in his eyes. It's high-key freaky.

Has the subtle air of inhumanity about him. He sometimes moves in a way that makes you question if he's real or not (e.g. standing way too still, movements too rigid or too fluid.) He's probably just really high when this happens.

Riffing off some dialogue from the game, Hancock has been dealing with hallucinations all his life. He blames it on the chems, but he's too afraid to admit he's probably just a tad psychotic from wasteland living. This is also a known PTSD symptom, which he won't touch on the subject of with a ten-foot pole.

"You see 'em, too?" he says jokingly whilst sweating bullets.

When he gets particularly high, one might catch him listening to some very strange experimental jazz. He'll never admit to this.

Riffing off of Danny Shorago's beautiful musical performances, this dude can absolutely slam out vocals like a pro. Isolation in the wasteland leads to completely useless talents. He absentmindedly sung along to Diamond City radio to himself one too many times and well, one thing led to another...

Took over for Magnolia at the Third Rail on one of her off days. Never did it again. Will never mention it happened.

Attention whore and heavily ashamed of it. He stabbed a guy in the first ten seconds of meeting the player character, but if you tell him he was showing off, he'll deny it.

Will happily bum a preserved cigarette off of the player character if they have any.

He has nine toes and walks a little funny because of it. Jack Sparrow with a limp.

Was not raised in the era of soap. Due to the game labeling soap as junk, Hancock will ridicule the player character for picking it up. He doesn't understand what it is; it just looks like a stick of lard to him.

Doesn't use soap (dirty wastelander behavior.) He keeps two pine-scented car fresheners hanging on the inside of his coat. He calls them "coat fresheners."

The sweat glands in his skin were burned off so he doesn't smell incredibly bad, there's just this weird dusty ozone smell to him... he'll take a dip in the river to get the grime off, but he doesn't like how cold it makes him afterwards.

Standard sex-education does not exist in the wasteland. It's incredibly rare to meet a wastelander who views sex as recreational, and not a clinical way to make as many babies as possible. It's also incredibly rare to meet a wastelander with any kind of clue of what they're doing in bed. This makes Hancock a literal gem, and it's probably why he has so much sway with the people. Per Bobbi No-Nose: "Everyone is so damn afraid of him or so damn in love with him. He thinks he is invincible."

Slams Dirty Wastelanders like they are water. He has a specific taste for mutfruit and sweet drinks.

Fahrenheit is indeed Hancock's daughter, but she was a bastard "oopsie baby" he didn't find out about until she was well in her adulthood. She's not inclined to tell him, nor does he want to acknowledge it. He was never a father to her, and she knows he doesn't want to be... not that she cares. They stick together out of an awkward unspoken need to make sure the other stays alive, though. Neither of them have the willpower to bring it up to each other.

Her mother was a fling situation with a cute ginger in some small settlement miles from Goodneighbor back before he was a ghoul. Count on his surprise when a particularly fierce ginger girl shows up on his doorstep many years later sporting his bright grey eyes looking for a job. What was he supposed to do, tell her to get lost?

Has an under-the-table deal with the Railroad and allows them to operate in Goodneighbor. Has a disdain for Deacon though, because his first language is bullshit, and Hancock's first language is "rooting out bullshit."

Food of choice is wherever the munchies lead him. The few things he can't stomach usually fall into the category of "200 years old." He'll eat bug if it's cooked well enough; anything that can be hunted or picked as a crop is on the menu. Salvaged food, though? Like the dusty remains of Sugar Bombs or unrefrigerated Salsbury Steak? He couldn't be paid to eat those.

Leave it to the player character to introduce him to spices and seasoning. Like any wastelander would, Hancock sort of turns into a rabid, frothing dog at good cooking.

He spends his leisure nights at the Third Rail among his people.

Reliving his memories at the Memory Den has led to some rather intense experiences. His frequent usage of Mentats has led to a rather interesting side-effect of being able to hyper-analyze what he has seen while using one of the machines. He has used this to his advantage by going over encounters he's had with various gang leaders or political interactions with settlement leaders.

He's able to catch details using this method that many others fail to. He is frequently one step ahead of the game.

Liver failure was beginning to catch up to him before he went ghoul. Now, the symptoms have miraculously vanished... he takes full advantage of this.

In a particularly bad moment in his life, Hancock once seriously considered cannibalism. It's made him weary of the dangers of hunger, so he always has some sort of snack on-hand or at least nearby. He's a very, "you do what you gotta" person, but it personally scares the shit out of him when the scarcity of the world corners him.

He made a pact with Fahrenheit to shoot him if he ever showed the warning signs of going feral. It gives him a little peace knowing he won't end up wandering the streets in a confused, violent stupor one day, but the looming deterioration from his ghoulish nature keeps him up at night, sometimes. He knows the day will come eventually.

"No warning, no fuss. Don't tell me, just do it. Got a plan to keep your name clear in the event my peeps want to know why you eighty-sixed their beloved mayor."

[thebibliosphere]

Dysautonomia is so annoying. I'm trying so hard to be good about getting more calories and eating consistent meals (take that executive dysfunction), but as soon as I eat, my body needs to lie down.

Like, what's that girl? Little Timmy fell down a well? We need to use the digestive system? Better shut down the rest of the body. Energy for productivity? Hahaha, bless your soul. No. No, we won't be doing that. Nighty night.

[eu-nicola]

one night

summary: one night with Max left a problem that you didn't talk to him about

warnings: pregnancy, and idk you tell me

word counter: 8005

author’s note: english is not my first language

The night was charged with a strange electricity that you didn't know how to explain. It was one of those improvised meetings in the house of a mutual friend, where laughter and talk mixed with the low sound of the music. You had known Max all your life, shared years of friendship, confidences and mutual support. He had always been your refuge, the kind of person who could read you with a single look.

That night, however, everything felt different.

Max was sitting next to you on the couch, closer than usual, and you couldn't help but notice every detail of his presence. The way his fingers played with the edge of his glass, the sound of his deep laughter when someone told an absurd joke, and how his eyes seemed to look for yours more than necessary. You tried to ignore it, attributing everything to your imagination, but it was useless. There was something there, something that both seemed to feel but did not want to admit.

The night advanced and the hours became more blurry. Most of the guests had left, leaving only a small group of close friends. But even they began to disappear, until you found yourself alone with Max in the dimly lit room.

"Another glass?" he offered you, getting up to fill your glass of wine.

"I don't know if I should," you replied, laughing softly, but you accepted anyway.

The conversation became more intimate, the topics more personal. They talked about the moments they had shared, how they had changed on time. At some point, Max leaned towards you, his expression more serious than usual.

"Have you ever wondered...?" he began, but left the phrase in the air.

"What?" you asked, feeling how your heart was racing.

He shook his head, as if he had decided not to say it. But his eyes told you something he couldn't put into words. Then it happened. A moment of courage - or madness - led you to close the distance between the two. The kiss was unexpected, intense, full of years of repressed feelings that finally found a way out.

The night continued between caresses and whispers, the outside world disappearing completely. For a few hours, everything felt like it was fine, as if this was what both had been waiting for without knowing it.

But the next morning, reality struck like a bucket of cold water. Max was in the kitchen when you woke up, his movements tense, avoiding your gaze. They barely spoke, an uncomfortable silence that looked nothing like the dynamics they had had for years.

"Last night..." he began, scratching the back of his neck, "it was... unexpected.

"Yes, it was," you admitted, pretending to feel a tranquility that you didn't feel.

They both knew that something had changed, something they couldn't ignore, but they didn't know how to handle it either. So, slowly, they began to move away. Messages that were previously constant became sporadic, and then non-existent. The calls stopped. His absence hurt, but you didn't know what to do about it.

Weeks later, while trying to move on with your life, you realized that something was not right. Morning sickness, constant fatigue, and the absence of your period led you to buy a pregnancy test at the pharmacy, your hands shaking while you waited for the result.

Two lines. Positive.

Your mind was filled with questions, fears and doubts, but one thing was clear: the baby was Max's. And although your first instinct was to call him, reason prevailed. Max had been in a serious relationship with Kelly for a while, a woman who had a little daughter whom he had accepted as his own. You knew he was committed to that life, and you couldn't ruin it all.

You decided to keep quiet. You would raise your baby alone, without complicating anyone else's life. But deep down, you knew that this secret would not be easy to carry. The life you had shared with Max felt like a distant memory, a "and if" that would never have a response.

You refused to think too much about what it implied. The more you thought about it, the more you sank into a whirlwind of contradictory emotions: fear, sadness, pride, and a kind of determination that you didn't know you had. You knew that your life would change drastically, but you also knew that you didn't want Max to be part of this new chapter. Not because you didn't trust him, but because his life was already defined, and you didn't want to be the person who broke it to pieces.

The decision was clear to you: you needed space, distance, something that would help you start again without Max's shadow and his responsibilities. So, little by little, you began to prepare your escape.

First, you stopped frequenting the places where you knew you might meet him. You changed your phone number, blocked almost all mutual friends on your social networks and pretended that you needed "time for yourself" when someone asked about your disappearance. Weeks passed, and your pregnancy began to be harder to hide. You looked in the mirror every morning, noticing the changes in your body and reminding yourself why you were doing it.

One day, after a visit to the doctor, you sat in your car and made the final decision. You looked at the familiar streets around you, the places that had always been your home, and you knew it was time to leave them behind.

London. You had always wanted to live there, and now it seemed like the perfect opportunity to start over. Without telling anyone but your boss, you submitted your resignation, packed your things and booked a plane ticket. The plan was simple: you would settle in an apartment, work in your family's company as they had wanted so long, and raise your baby away from any possibility of Max discovering the truth.

When you arrived in London, the city greeted you with a cold and humid air, typical of early autumn. You moved to an apartment in a quiet area, with enough cafes and parks nearby to keep you busy.

Then you had disappeared from the digital radar for months. Your social networks, which used to be full of spontaneous photos, updates and everyday moments, had been left in absolute silence. You hadn't posted anything for a long time, and although you kept looking from time to time, reviewing the stories and publications of others, you made sure not to leave any traces of your presence. It was as if you had become a ghost that I watched from a distance.

People began to notice your absence. You knew it because, when reviewing your old posts, you found endless comments asking you where you were. "Everything okay?", "We miss you", "Why haven't you uploaded anything?" some said. Others simply left emojis, hearts, or words of support. But even when nostalgia for your previous life invaded you, you still didn't respond.

It wasn't exactly fear, but a feeling of wanting to protect this very personal stage. The pregnancy had been a roller coaster of emotions: illusion, uncertainty, and moments of loneliness that you fought remembering why you were doing this. Your little world in London had become your refuge, and sharing it with the rest of the world still didn't seem necessary to you.

But everything changed when the month came in which you decided to know the gender of your baby. The doctor's appointment was marked on your calendar, and you couldn't deny that you were excited and a little nervous. It was a strange feeling, as if knowing the gender made everything even more real, as if the baby that grew inside you began to take the form of a person you would soon meet.

The doctor's room was lit with a warm light, and the constant sound of the monitor filled the air. You lay back on the stretcher, taking a deep breath while the doctor applied the cold gel to your belly. The screen in front of you showed the blurred silhouette of your baby, and you felt that knot in your chest that always invaded you when you saw it.

"Do you want to know the gender?" the doctor asked, with a smile.

"Yes, please," you replied, your voice barely a whisper.

The moment they told you was unforgettable. A child. A child who would soon become the center of your world. You smiled as tears accumulated in your eyes. For an instant, all the doubts, fears and difficult decisions vanished, replaced by pure and simple happiness.

That same afternoon, while you were walking back to your apartment, you decided it was time. For the first time in months, you felt the impulse to share this part of your life with others. It wasn't out of pressure, or to please anyone, but because you wanted to celebrate this little miracle you were waiting for.

You took a couple of pictures, wearing a white dress that highlighted your belly. The brightness of your skin, the pride in your eyes and the shy smile on your face were more than evident. You weren't the type to plan great revelations, but you knew you wanted to do something special.

You sat on the edge of your bed, carefully selecting the images and writing a description that reflected how you felt:

"After months of silence, I finally want to share the reason why my world changed. I'm expecting a beautiful baby, a boy who will arrive soon to light up my life. I can't explain in words the joy and love I feel knowing that I will be a mom. Thank you to everyone who has been asking about me and worrying in silence. I'm fine, better than I've been in a long time. 💙”

You took a breath before publishing it, hesitating for a moment. What would happen if this reached Max's ears? You knew I would do it but you pushed those thoughts away from your mind and pressed the publish button.

Within minutes, notifications began to flood your phone. Comments of surprise, love and congratulations appeared one after another. "Congratulations!", "You're going to be an amazing mom!", "A child? What a thrill!". The answer was overwhelming, and as you read them, you felt a warmth that enveloped you.

You allowed yoursellelless to smile again. For the first time in a long time, you let the world know a part of your new reality.

You didn't expect all that to go so far. After posting the news on your social networks, you felt a mixture of relief and vulnerability. You had shared your truth with the world, but you couldn't control who could see it, how they would react or what they would say behind your back.

Then Max's message arrived.

It was almost ten o'clock at night and you were on your couch, with your legs crossed and a bowl of ice cream in your hands, responding to the hundreds of comments that kept coming. Your phone vibrated, and when you looked at the notification, you felt how the air left your lungs.

It was a message from Max.

"Congratulations to you and the baby's father. I hope you are well. Really, I'm glad to know that you're happy."

You were frozen, reading and rereading the message as if you were unable to process it. How did he get your number? Who had told him? Why had I decided to write to you after so long? All these questions crowded into your mind, but none had an immediate answer.

You didn't know what to do. The most instinctive part of you wanted to ignore it, as if you had never seen the message. But another part, more emotional, I knew that would not be fair. He had been kind, had respected the distance, and had not hinted at anything that could complicate things.

You put the phone aside, squeezing your eyes as you took a deep breath. You had to answer, but what to say? You couldn't reveal the truth, that was clear. But you didn't want to sound cold or distant either. So you took your time, thinking about every word, every semicomon, before writing:

"Thank you, Max. I'm fine and so is the baby. I'm glad to hear from you."

You hit "send" before you could regret it, your heart beating hard while you waited, not knowing if he would answer. Every vibration of your phone made you jump, but the minutes passed, then the hours, and nothing else arrived.

Silence was a relief and torture at the same time. On the one hand, you were grateful that he didn't insist, that he didn't ask questions that you couldn't or didn't want to answer. But on the other hand, you wondered what he would be thinking, if he had really believed your version.

That night, before going to sleep, you thought about his message over and over again. It was so typical of Max: courteous, respectful, but letting out that closeness that had always existed between you. You knew him well enough to know that he must be curious, even if he didn't say it.

Max didn't write to you again. There were no more messages, calls or contact attempts. And although one part of you hoped it wasn't like that, another, more practical, deeply thanked him. The conversation had been at a neutral point, without complications or confrontations, exactly as you wanted.

The days passed with a strange tranquility. Since Max's message, you had not heard from him again, and life in London was on course. Your daily routines had become a kind of comfort: working from home, walking through nearby parks and mentally preparing for the arrival of your baby. But that calm was suddenly broken when your family called you with news that you did not expect.

You were lying on the couch, reviewing a list of things for the baby, when your mother called you. Her voice sounded excited, almost as if she was holding herst out so as not to scream with joy.

"We have something to tell you," he said, without even saying hello first.

"What happened?" you asked, anticipating that something important was coming.

“Your father and I have decided to go back to Monaco. The company is doing better than ever, and we believe it is the perfect time to return home. We've been away too long.”

The news hit you like a gust of cold air. Monaco Your lifelong home, the place where you had grown up, where you knew everyone and everyone knew you. But also the place you had left behind when you moved to London, in search of a new beginning.

"When do you plan to move?" you asked, trying to sound calmer than you felt.

"In a few weeks." We want you to come with us, of course. It's time for us to get back together, especially now that you're expecting a baby.

The proposal left you silent. You knew that your mother didn't say it with bad intentions; she was excited about the idea of having her first grandson around. But for you, the decision was not so simple. London had become your refuge, the place where you had managed to rebuild your life away from everything that tied you to your past. Returning would mean facing everything you had been avoiding, starting with Max.

Monaco was not a place where you could easily hide. Your family was well known, with important connections in the business and social circles of the city. If you came back, everyone would be behind you with questions. And even worse, there was a high probability that you would cross paths with Max during the Formula 1 break.

The following days were a storm of thoughts and emotions. On the one hand, the idea of being alone in London terrified you. With the baby on the way, you knew you would need support, and your family had always been by your side in important moments. But on the other hand, returning to Monaco meant opening a door that you had closed with so much effort.

You sat in front of the window of your small apartment one night, looking at the city lights while reflecting. You were mature enough not to worry about what people would say, but facing Max was something else. You knew each other, and you knew that his presence had an effect on you that you had never been able to fully control.

Finally, after days of thinking and rethinking, you made a decision.

You would return to Monaco.

It wouldn't be easy, but you were tired of living in fear. You didn't want your child to be born in a place where you felt isolated and vulnerable. Your family was important to you, and you knew you could trust them to support you, even if they didn't fully understand why you had made certain decisions.

The next day, you called your mother to give her the news.

"I'm going back with you," you said, your voice firm but with a touch of nervousness.

She couldn't hide her joy. He started talking about the plans for the trip, how they would organize everything so that you were comfortable. His enthusiasm made you smile, although a part of you was still restless.

The weeks passed in the blink of an eye. You packed your things, silently saying goodbye to London and the small shelter you had built there. When the day of your departure came, you looked for the last time at the streets that had become your temporary home, promising yourself that, whatever happens in Monaco, you would be strong.

The plane landed in Monaco at sunset, and the view of the city filled you with a mixture of nostalgia and nervousness. It was as if a part of you had never really left. But you knew the real test was yet to come. Max was there, somewhere, and sooner or later, you would have to face him.

It didn't take long for that, "The event" as your family used to say was something typical: a great meeting in one of the most exclusive lounges in Monaco, where the closest families could live together. Your parents had organized it as a kind of welcome to resume old connections after returning to the city. From the invitation, you knew that it would be inevitable to cross paths with people from the past, but you didn't think too much about who might be. There were so many names, so many familiar faces, that you assumed you could stay on the sidelines without drawing too much attention.

You dressed up with care that night, choosing a simple white dress that enhanced your figure. The fabric flowed gently over your growing belly, marking it delicately without being too flashy. You left your hair loose, with natural waves, and applied light makeup. You wanted to see yourself well, but without trying too hard.

When we arrived at the event, the room was already full. Laughter and conversations filled the air, and the children ran back and forth while the adults met in small groups. There was something familiar in the atmosphere, something that transported you to the years when you had also been a girl in those meetings. It was at one of these parties where you met Max.

Years ago...

You were a restless girl, full of curiosity and not afraid to talk to anyone, even if they were older than you. Max, on the other hand, was more reserved, even a little grumpy for his age. However, somehow, you found a way to break his serious facade. With your energetic personality, you managed to let my guard down. To everyone's surprise, he, who always seemed uncomfortable in these meetings, got along with you from the beginning. In those days, both became inseparable, exploring together every corner of these events while the adults chatted.

Returning to the present...

That memory made you smile a little, but it also made you feel a knot in your stomach. You tried to shake the nostalgia and focus on the night. You walked among the guests, chatting with those who approached you, most of them congratulating you on the pregnancy. Although you felt out of place, you tried to stay calm.

That's when you saw it.

Max was standing near one of the tables, dressed in a dark suit that sat him spotlessly. He was accompanied by Kelly, and her little daughter. The air seemed to disappear from your lungs instantly.

He also saw you.

For a second, your eyes met, and his expression changed. He seemed surprised, maybe even uncomfortable, but he immediately regained his composure. You, on the other hand, felt that your heart was beating so hard that it was hard for you to breathe. Instinctively, you turned on your heels, looking for a way out. You weren't ready to face him, even less with Kelly by his side.

But Max was faster.

Before you could disappear into the crowd, he and Kelly approached you. His every step made the panic inside you increase. You wanted to run, excuse yourself, anything to avoid that moment, but there was no escape.

"Hey!" Max said, with a smile that seemed contained, as if he was also dealing with something internal. His voice was warm, as if the months of silence between you had not existed. He pointed at Kelly and said—: “This is Kelly, my girlfriend.”

Kelly smiled politely and held out her hand.

"Nice to meet you," she said. Max has told me that you two have been friends since you were little.

Your mind was going a thousand per hour, but you managed to force a smile and shake his hand.

"Yes, that's right. For... many years” you replied, striving to keep your voice stable.

Max, as if he wanted to relieve the tension, added with a more relaxed smile:

"It's amazing to see you here, and congratulations again, both for you and for the baby's father.”

The words "baby's father" echoed in your mind like an echo. Kelly also congratulated you, and although there was nothing in his words that sounded malicious, you felt that your whole body tensed up.

"Thank you," you managed to say, nodding with a shy smile.

You couldn't take it anymore. You made up the first excuse you could think of.

"Excuse me, I need to go get something to drink." It has been a pleasure to see you.

Before they could say anything else, you walked away with quick steps, feeling the eyes of both of them fixed on your back. You didn't stop until you were far away, in a corner of the living room where you could catch your breath.

Your heart kept beating hard, and your hands were shaking. You had managed to get out of that conversation, but the meeting had removed all the emotions you had tried to bury. Max was there, and although you hadn't admitted it out loud, seeing him had made everything feel real again.

The night continued as a blur of superficial conversations and forced laughter. Every time Max and his little family appeared in your line of sight, you found a way to dodge them, pretending that someone else required your attention. You kept busy talking to acquaintances, checking your phone and serving yourself lemon water in an attempt to distract yourself. All in vain. His presence weighed like a cloud on you, a constant that you could not ignore even if you tried.

As soon as you finished pretending to be interested in a business conversation, you decided you needed a break. The bustle of the living room began to suffocate you, and the fresh air outside seemed like the perfect solution. You walked towards the gardens, feeling the relief of the silence as you left the music and laughter behind.

The sky of Monaco was clear, and the city lights were reflected in the nearby water. You recharged against a railing, closing your eyes and letting the breeze caress your face. For a moment, the world seemed calmer, less complicated.

Until you heard his voice behind you.

"It's not very typical of you to escape from the party."

You turned quickly, with your heart racing. Max was there, with his hands in his pockets and an expression that you didn't know how to interpret. He seemed relaxed, but there was something in his eyes that made you feel that he had come with a purpose.

"I didn't escape. I just needed a little air” you replied, trying to sound casual while your hands fiddled with the railing.

Max approached, leaving enough space between you, but enough to make his presence impossible to ignore.

"It was nice to see you today. I didn't expect to find you here," he said, his words loaded with something you couldn't define.

"I say the same," you replied, looking at the horizon instead of him.

There was an awkward silence before he spoke again.

"Your family must be excited about the baby and his father too. I'm sure they're spoiling you a lot.”

You smiled slightly, although his tone made you feel a pang in your chest. You decided it was better to be honest before he continued to assume things.

"They are happy, yes. But my baby doesn't have a father.”

Max seemed to stop in his tracks. His expression changed, and for a moment he seemed to be looking for the right words.

"I'm sorry... I didn't know."

You looked at him then, meeting his look that seemed sincerely hurt.

"Don't do it," you told him, your tone firm but without hardness. “Don't be regretted. I'm happy, Max. My family is happy. I can't ask for more. This child will be surrounded by love, and that's all that matters.”

Max nodded slowly, but his eyes continued to reflect something else, something he didn't say out loud.

"I always thought you would be an incredible mom," he said after a moment, with a small smile.

You forced yourself to smile too, although his comment stirred you inside. You wanted to change the subject, prevent the conversation from taking a more emotional turn, but Max was the one who spoke first.

"I want to be in your life again."

His words were like a direct blow to the chest. You looked at him, stunned, trying to understand exactly what he meant.

"Max..." you started, but he raised a hand, interrupting you.

"I'm not saying that I'm going to get into something that doesn't belong to me. I just... I want to be part of your life again, as we were before. I could be a good uncle for that little one," he added, with a smile that seemed sincere, although also somewhat sad.

That was too much for you. His words, his tone, the way he seemed so sure of wanting to be close but at the same time setting limits... It was a reminder of what had been and what it could not be. You felt your heart tighten, as if the air became denser.

"I would love to have you back in my life, Max. You've always been a good friend” you managed to say, although it was hard for you to keep your voice stable.

He nodded, his eyes fixed on yours for an eternal second. Then he looked towards the house, as if something was calling him back.

"I'm glad to hear it. See you inside," he said softly, before turning around and walking towards the living room.

You stayed there, watching how his figure disappeared between the lights of the party. You felt a mixture of emotions that you couldn't fully decipher. There was something reassuring in knowing that he wanted to be in your life, but also something deeply painful in hearing the words "good friend" come out of his lips.

You took a deep breath, trying to calm the lump in your throat. You knew that the best thing was to return too, but before you needed a few more minutes to pull yourself together.

When the night finally came to an end, and while you were helping your mother say goodbye to the last guests, you felt the exhaustion creep into every fiber of your body. Between smiles, short conversations and the unexpected meeting with Max, everything had been a whirlwind of emotions. You went up to your room, closing the door behind you and letting out a long sigh. You had succeeded. You had survived that night without collapsing, although the cracks in your facade were deeper than you wanted to admit.

You took off your dress carefully, letting the fresh air ease your skin. You put on a comfortable nightgown and got rid of the makeup with slow movements. Every step of your nightly routine was an attempt to distract you from the only thing that really occupied your mind: Max. The conversation outside, his insistence on wanting to be back in your life, his words loaded with a meaning that you refused to interpret... Everything kept spinning in your head.

When you got into bed, you took your phone out of habit, checking notifications and messages before going to sleep. That's when you saw it. A message from Max.

Max: "Good night. I liked seeing you tonight."

Your heart skipped a beat when you read it. You didn't expect me to write to you, not after what they had talked about. You thought about ignoring him, but you knew you couldn't. Something inside you drove you to respond.

You: "Simely. It was nice to see you."

You sent the message before your mind could stop you, and just a few seconds later his answer came.

Max: "I don't know if this sounds weird, but I feel like I've missed you more than I thought."

You bit your lip, your fingers floating on the screen as you decided what to say. Finally you wrote:

You: "It doesn't sound weird. I've missed you too."

The conversation flowed with a naturalness that baffled you. Talking to him was like returning to something comfortable and familiar, as if the months of distance had not existed. They talked about trivial things at the beginning: how he was, how you were, small anecdotes of the event that had occurred while you were escaping to the garden. But then he wrote something that made you stop.

Max: "We should have a coffee or something. Really catch up."

Your first reaction was to doubt. You knew it wasn't a good idea. Seeing him was to risk letting your guard down, saying something you shouldn't have, opening doors that you had closed for a reason. But, at the same time, the idea excited you. You wanted to see it. I wanted to see it.

"I'd love to," you finally wrote, almost with fear.

Almost instantly came his answer:

Max: "Tomorrow? I have something in the afternoon, but I'm free at night."

You bit the inside of your cheek, weighing your options. You knew you shouldn't accept, but your fingers were already writing.

You: "It's okay. Tomorrow night."

They quickly confirmed it, deciding the place and time, and after a few more messages, he wrote:

Max: "Sleep well. See you tomorrow."

"You too," you replied, even though you knew that sleeping was the last thing you would do. You put the phone aside, but your mind was still at full speed.

As you settled in bed, you looked at the ceiling with a sigh. You had done something you knew you shouldn't have done, and the anxiety of what could happen consumed you. But, at the same time, a small spark of emotion lit up inside you.

The idea of seeing him, of talking to him face to face after all, made you feel like you were playing with fire. And yet, you found yourself counting the hours for the next day.

The next morning the day began in a rather routine way, although you felt a slight tingling in your stomach when you remembered your plan for later. After a light breakfast, you made sure to review your to-do list, and among them was the doctor's appointment. Although all the previous reviews had gone well, it always gave you a little anxiety to attend. You wanted to make sure that your baby was perfect, that everything went as it should.

You put on a loose and comfortable dress, choosing a pastel shade that highlighted the shine that lately your pregnancy had given to your skin. You looked in the mirror quickly before leaving, noticing your already noticeably rounded belly. You had reached that point in pregnancy where it was impossible to hide it, and although you felt proud, there were times when that reality made you think about everything that was to come.

The clinic was calm when you arrived. After signing some papers and waiting a few minutes in the room, they called you to go to the doctor. She was a kind woman, someone you fully trusted and with whom you had developed a good relationship since you arrived in Monaco.

You lay down on the stretcher while they did the routine ultrasound. The screen lit up with the image of your baby, and as always, your eyes filled with tears of pure emotion when you saw it.

"Everything looks perfect," said the doctor, smiling as she checked the measurements and heartbeat of the little one. “He is growing well and has a lot of energy, as always. Have you felt good?”

You nodded.

"Yes, although he's been a little restless today. I don't know if it's me or him.”

The doctor laughed softly.

"Probably a little bit of both. They feel our emotions, did you know? If you're anxious or nervous, he feels it too.”

You were thoughtful with that comment. It was true that you had been nervous since you woke up. The idea of seeing Max again, of sitting in front of him after so long, had you in a constant state of anticipation.

"I guess he's right. Today I have... an important day.”

You didn't go into details, but she gave you an understanding look.

"Well, try to relax." He's fine, you're fine. Enjoy your day and make sure you rest.

When you left the clinic, the mid-morning sun greeted you warmly, but you still felt some restlessness in your chest. You knew there was no reason to worry about the baby, but the conversation with the doctor left you thinking. Your little one was connected to you in a way that no one else could be, and his well-being was completely up to you.

The rest of the day was spent in a blur of domestic activities and small errands, but your mind always returned to Max. You wondered what it would be like to see him again, this time in a more intimate environment. Would he be nervous like you? Would it still be as easy to talk to him as it had been last night?

As the afternoon progressed, you noticed that your baby kept moving. Every time you tried to sit down for a moment to breathe, he kicked or settled down, as if trying to get your attention.

"What's wrong, little one?" you murmured, placing a hand on your belly. “Are you also nervous about tonight?”

The thought made you smile, although you felt a knot in your stomach. You caressed your belly with gentle movements, trying to calm it down and calm yourself down in the process.

You sighed as you looked at the clock. Every minute that passed brought you closer to the meeting, and although you were nervous, a part of you couldn't wait.

The afternoon was sliding into the night, and with each passing minute, you felt how anxiety was taking over you. You repeated to yourself over and over again that everything would be fine, that there was nothing to fear, that it was only Max. Max, your lifelong friend. Max, who was now much more complicated than you had ever imagined.

When it was time to get ready, you went into the bathroom and looked at yourself in the mirror. There was something different about you, a mixture of emotion and tension that made you feel like you were about to cross an invisible line. The dress you chose was simple but elegant, a dark blue tone that highlighted your skin and concealed your belly. You left your hair loose, falling in soft waves on your shoulders. The makeup, just enough to give a touch of color to your cheeks and highlight your eyes. You wanted to look good, but without looking like you had tried too hard.

While you were putting on the last touches, your phone vibrated on the table. You took it with slightly trembling hands and read the message.

"I'm outside. I'll wait for you."

You toom a deep breath before answering.

"Ok."

You picked up your bag, taking one last look at your reflection before leaving the room. You went down the stairs calmly, although your heart was beating hard in your chest. When he opened the front door, there he was. Max Verstappen, waiting for you next to his car with a smile that, despite all the time that had passed, was still the same you remembered.

"Hello," he said softly, his eyes running over you for a moment before returning to your face. “You look... good.”

You smiled a little shyly.

"Thank you. You too”

Max was dressed casually but flawlessly, a dark shirt and jeans that fit him perfectly. I had always had that ability to look good without much effort. He opened the car door for you and, once you were inside, he circled the car and sat behind the wheel.

The journey was comfortable, although full of silences that spoke more than words. Through the reflection in the window, you watched him sideways. His firm hands on the steering wheel, the way he concentrated on the road, everything was so familiar and at the same time so distant.

Finally, they arrived at a small secluded, discreet and cozy restaurant, a place that Max had chosen carefully to avoid curious glances. Upon entering, you were greeted by a warm atmosphere, dim lights and tables separated enough to ensure privacy.

"It's a quiet place," he said while helping you sit down. “I thought we would be more comfortable here.”

You nodded, grateful for your consideration.

"It's perfect."

You both asked for dinner, and for a few minutes, the sound of the cutlery and the soft background music filled the space. But soon, the conversation began to flow.

"So..." you said, breaking the ice. “How is everything? Life, the team, your relationship?”

Max took a sip from his glass before answering.

"Life... is fine. Busy, as always. The team is doing well, although this year has been more complicated than I expected. And Kelly...” he paused briefly. “We're fine. Things are stable, which is good for me, for P.”

He mentioned his girlfriend and stepdaughter naturally, but you couldn't help but feel a pang in his chest. You forced yoursellsel on your smile.

"I'm glad to hear that. You know I've always wanted you to be happy.”

Max looked at you with an expression that seemed to contain more than he was willing to say.

"And you?" he asked, leaning slightly forward. “Why did you disappear like that? One day you were here, and the next, you were gone. Without a word.”

You tensed up a little in your chair, fiddling with the edge of your glass. You had known that question would come, but you were not completely prepared to answer it.

"It was something... I needed to do," you finally said, choosing your words carefully. “London was an opportunity to start again. And... I didn't want to complicate anyone's life.”

Max frowned slightly, his eyes looking for yours.

"Complicate life for whom? To me?”

The air seemed to become denser between you. You avoided his gaze, concentrating on the napkin that you now held between your fingers.

"You already had many things in your life. You didn't need... more complications.”

Max was silent for a moment, but his eyes didn't turn away from you.

"We were always friends, remember? No matter what happened... that doesn't change.”

The sincerity in his voice disarmed you, and for a moment, you felt that the weight of the last few months was about to collapse on you. But you stood firm, smiling softly.

"I know. And I'm glad we can talk like this, like before.”

The conversation continued, returning to lighter topics: childhood memories, career anecdotes, moments they shared before everything got complicated. But, deep down, they both knew that there were things that remained unsaid.

When dinner ended, they both left the restaurant, the night in Monaco unfolded calm and cool, with a gentle breeze that caressed your skin. You felt strangely light, despite everything that dinner had moved in you. You thought the night had come to an end, but Max, standing next to you in front of the car, seemed to hesitate before saying goodbye.

"Are you tired?" he asked, with a look that contained more than what his words said. “Because... if you're not, we could go for a walk.”

You were surprised by the invitation, but a part of you, the one that was still looking for any excuse to prolong the moment, did not hesitate to answer.

"No, I'm not tired. I would love to walk a little.”

Max smiled, a soft smile that lit up his face for a moment. He walked by your side, and soon they both left the restaurant behind and went into the quietest streets of the city. The night in Monaco was a spectacle in itself, with the lights reflected in the sea, the distant sound of laughter and music, and the constant murmur of the nightlife that unfolded around it. But at that moment, nothing seemed to matter more than the presence of the other.

The silence between you was not uncomfortable. On the contrary, it felt almost like a conversation in itself, a pause that allowed both of them to think about everything that had been left unsaid for so long. They walked at the same pace, their steps synchronized, and from time to time your fingers brushed his, which caused a small chill that ran through your body.

Finally, it was Max who broke the silence. His voice was low, almost a whisper, as if he feared to alter the stillness of the night.

"I like walking with you at night," he said, with a sincerity that took you by surprise. His eyes looked at you sideways, looking for your reaction.

Your heart turned upside down, and you bit your lip before answering, allowing a soft smile to form on your lips.

"I like it too. I enjoy it.”

And you meant it. There was something intimate at that moment, a connection that didn't need words. The world seemed to have reduced to you two, walking together under the dim lights of Monaco. The breeze was fiddling with your hair, and Max noticed it, because his eyes stopped a second longer on you, before looking away.

Both continued walking in silence for a few more minutes, until both of you reached a small viewpoint that overlooked the port. The lights of the yachts and the soft waves of the water created an almost magical atmosphere. You leaned on the railing, contemplating the landscape, but aware that Max had come closer, until he was a few centimeters from you.

"It's beautiful," you commented, trying to stay calm, although your heart was beating hard.

"It is..." he replied, but when you looked up, you realized that he was not looking at the landscape. He was looking at you.

The atmosphere became denser, loaded with electricity that seemed to envelop them. You felt trapped between the desire to maintain that closeness and the need to step back, to protect yourself from what that moment could mean. But you didn't move.

Max leaned slightly forward, resting his arms on the railing next to yours. His fingers brushed yours, and this time he didn't move away. Neither do you.

"I missed this," he murmured, with a voice so low that you barely heard him. “I missed being with you.”

His words disarmed you. You felt a lump in your throat, but you tried to stay calm.

"Me too..." you admitted, almost in a whisper. I missed this, you.

Both stayed like this, in silence, letting the moment last, feeling the closeness of the other. There was so much you wanted to say, so much you had saved for months, but you held in. You didn't want to ruin it. Not yet.

Max turned his face towards you, and for a moment, time seemed to stop. His blue eyes, intense and full of contained emotions, met yours. The world around him disappeared, and all that existed was that look, that instant in which the past, the present and the future seemed to collide.

"I'm glad you're here," he said, with a softness that almost made you lose your balance.

Your breathing quickened slightly, and without looking away, you replied:

"To me too."

The silence that followed was different. It wasn't uncomfortable or empty.

But before either of them could do or say anything else, Max took a step back, breaking the spell.

"We should go back," he said, his voice a little more controlled. “I don't want you to get too tired.”

You nodded, grateful and at the same time disappointed. Both began to walk back, this time more slowly, as if prolonging that walk could change something.

When both got to the car, Max stopped before opening the door for you. For a moment, he seemed to doubt, as if he was about to say something important. But instead, he just smiled.

"Thank you for tonight. I needed.”

"Yeah. Me too..." you murmured. “Thank u.”

He leaned slightly, as if he was going to say goodbye with a kiss on the cheek, but he stopped halfway. Instead, his fingers gently brushed your hand before opening the door. You got into the car, still feeling the warmth of his touch, and when he left you at home, they both said goodbye with a smile that said more than words could express.

That night, while you were lying in your bed, with the breeze of Monaco coming in through the window, you thought about every detail of that walk. In his gaze, in his words, in the touch of his fingers. And for the first time in a long time, you allowed yourself to dream about what could have been... and what it could still be.

[lilacxquartz]

pregnancy woes;

toji fushiguro x pregnant!reader

summary: lil drabble post, i might do more pregnant reader x jjk in the future but i got a request for a milf reader x any, so here we go! requested by @lolitamermaid123 — i hope this was what you were looking for🩵

tags/themes: pregnant reader, very in love toji, praise, validation, suggestive undertones, massage — w.c: ~700

ao3 • masterlist • more drabbles

Nothing prepared you for how lovesick Toji would be when you were carrying his second child. The guy had always been sarcastic, maybe even arrogant, but never before had he been this obsessed with you. From the moment your stomach started showing visible signs of growth; he simply couldn’t keep his hands off of you.

Despite this, you didn’t quite feel the same. You didn’t deny that the miracle of life or what have you was a beautiful prospect, yes, but it was also exhausting on your body. You were not only constantly in a state of simmering fatigue, but you were once again feeling all sorts of puffy and achy with very little that could be done to alleviate the symptoms.

Yet, Toji didn’t quite see it that way. Or maybe he saw it differently. To him, you were the living embodiment of what could have been perfection in his eyes.

Every morning, without fail, he would roll over to his side and wrap his strong arms right around you and pull you in as close as he possibly could. He would bury his face right into the crook of your neck with his large hands palming over the swell of your stomach while acting surprisingly sweet—given who he was and what he did for a living.

“Good morning,” he murmured, his breath hot against the exposed area of your flesh. His voice was lower than usual and thick with sleep.

You mumbled something out in response, although it was barely coherent. You tried to shift away slightly because as it turned out, you didn’t quite feel as hot as you usually did and his touch would only feed your insecurities even further.

“Oh no you don’t,” he teased as he pulled you closer, not quite letting you get away. He could see right past you and you were being harsh on yourself—like usual—and for no good reason.

“Toji, please…” you sighed into a weary groan, appreciating his effort but feeling groggy from all of the exhaustion. “I feel so bloated and big… you wouldn’t get it…”

Toji however simply rolled his eyes. “There you go again, talking down on yourself like that. You have no idea how sexy you look to me right now and it hurts.”

You tried to stretch the remainder of the sleep away to little avail, leaning your head back against him as you finally gave into his hold. “Yeah, well it’s hard to feel sexy right now.”

He shrugged as he didn’t back down, digging his lips even further into your skin while planting lazy kisses along your neck and shoulder. His voice was laced with want and need the more he pressed himself right against you, unable to quite let you go, if at all, “You’re not seeing my vision then, huh? You don’t get it. You look so hot, so incredible like this…”

Finally, you managed to thaw into a slight smile as his words were finally starting to get to you. Even if you didn’t quite believe him fully, Toji had a knack for making you feel like you were the only thing that mattered in the entire world. His attention to you was dedicated and you were his only focus.

“Would be better if I wasn’t so achy though,” you slightly whined while attempting to straighten out your back.

He hummed at your statement, seemingly forming an idea in his mind. “How about a massage then? Give me an excuse to keep my hands on you.”

“That could be nice…” you admitted.

“Yeah,” Toji murmured, repositioning you gently so that you laid against his lap with your back in between his legs. You could tell that he was very excited to this, given what else you felt. “I’ll knock those knots clean out of you, babe. You won’t even know what tension is.”

“I’ll hold you to that one,” you replied, feeling already relieved from just how well his hands could work into your shoulders, kneading and squeezing in all of the right places.

In turn, he leaned down to press a kiss on top of your head as he slowly felt you come undone and relax in his company. “Trust me,” he added, “I'll do anything to help you feel good, you’re doing all the hard work after all in getting our next kid here. So leave it to me to take care of you.”

[onlyangel4]

pushed too hard. mv1. SMAU + written.

max verstappen x chronically ill! reader

in which max's girlfriend has a very valid reason for not attending the races but the public doesn't know. and when the hate gets too much she pushes herself too hard.

author's note: so i have written this completely from experience, so the reader has elhers danlos syndrome (which i also have) but if you suffer from a different chronic illness please do imagine it as that.

warnings: chronic illness. hate. hospitalisation. injury.

face claim: katie douglas

y/ninsta posted a story tagging maxverstappen

written: y/sister managed to get a picture of me as soon as i woke up to find out that max won the bahrain gp with a twenty second lead. i am such a proud girlfriend rn.

maxverstappen replied to your story: good you are awake i'll facetime you rn. i miss you and the cats.

user1 replied to your story: if you really were a good girlfriend you would have been there supporting him

maxfan: you are such a bad wag you didn't even stay up to watch the race.

you had woken up on a high. you had turned your phone on to see all the messages informing you of your boyfriend's impressive win and you had even managed to facetime max before he went to bed. it felt like a good day. but then you made the mistake of opening social media. people on twitter were doing what people on twitter do best, talk shit. your eyes scanned over the screen as for the millionth time people picked apart your relationship and called you every name under the sun. they saw you as a villain that just did not support her boyfriend and that could not be further from the truth.

if you could attend every race you would but that just was not plausible. you suffered from elhers danlos syndrome and on top of that you had chronic fatigue. the elhers danlos effected your joints making every day painful to some degree. yes there were good and bad days but there were never pain free days. both of your knees had been operated on and you were awaiting surgery on your ankle due to frequent dislocations. the simple description of elhers danlos is that you had fault collagen, this collagen is what makes your connective tissue so your connective tissue was faulty and therefore your joints had a habit of dislocating and causing you a hell of a lot of pain. it was a domino effect the constant pain that you were in made you incredibly tired and that is where the chronic fatigue came in. max often called you his sleepy girl because you needed at least one nap per day to function properly.

you knew the problems you were having with max's fans could be solved by you telling them what you suffered with medically but they did not deserve an explanation from you. you should be allowed to live your life how you want to without thousands of strangers telling you that you were doing it wrong or that you were a bad girlfriend. you wanted to keep your medical issues private and max completely understood and supported your decision to do so. so instead you had to deal with all the hate. you just had to remind yourself that these people did not know the real you and if they did they, hopefully, would not treat you like this.

y/sister posted a story tagging y/ninsta

written: y/n finally left the house for the first time in five days and it was just for a snack run.

maxverstappen replied: is she having a bad week, she only eats reese's when she is a lot of pain

y/sister: i didn't tell you this but she is not doing well at all, she slept all of yesterday and then today the internet hates her because she wasn't at the race.

as the saudi arabian gp came and went max was busy with stragety meetings and such this meant that instead of coming home for a few days like he had previously planned he stayed out there and was going to go straight from there to australia and at this point you were really missing your boyfriend. the hate had not subsided either. it was just a very difficult time for you. one night where you had just been scrolling through twitter reading through the cruel things that people had been saying about you, you hit your limit. there was no way that you could deal with this for the rest of the season. so insteadyou decided to do something about it.

the morning you needed to fly to australia was when you realised that this was a bad idea. you had woken up in enough pain to down a horse, joints aching and head spinning. but danny had pulled strings for you. he had arranged everything just so that you could surprise your boyfriend and there was no way you were going to cancel when the plan was already in motion. so instead you just grinned and bared it. the flight was okay, luckily daniel had booked you a first class seat.. but sleep was hard to come by due to your body not being used to sleeping while being in flight. you were already tired when you landed in australia. due to the lack of notice the only flight daniel could arrange got in late on the saturday night. so you had booked a hotel next to the airport and arranged for a car to pick you up in the morning.

it had been so fucking hot in your hotel room and that meant that sleep was incredibly difficult to find. you tossed and turned all night only getting five hours of low quality sleep. in the morning you had pulled on a comfortable outfit and made your way out to the car that daniel had arranged for you.

y/ninsta posted a story

written: fit check

f1wags

liked by user30, user31, user32 and 89,172 others

f1wags: y/n y/ln has arrived to her first ever grand prix. y/n has been dating max verstappen for 18 months and had never been to a race before. but today that changes. she is not dressed in usual wag attire instead in an oversized shirt and bike shorts with a red bull cap. she may not be dressed like the others but we are happy to see her in the paddock

view all 628 comments

user30: we wait for her to show up and she comes wearing that. what an awful wag

user31: go on girl. give us nothing.

user32: i'm actually so happy she is here. i love y/n and have never understood the hate i think she is the cutest

the red bull garage was incredibly easy to spot. your eyes found danny loitering outside having a meaningless conversation with your boyfriend, "i got you a present mate. as it is my home gp i decided to spoil you", danny spoke and max raised an eyebrow.

"whatever it is i am sure that i don't want it", max responded

"i wouldn't be so sure", you cut in and max turned around instantly at the sound of your voice a wide smile gracing his features.

"oh my god, y/n", he spoke as his arms engulfed you in a tight hug. "what are you doing here love?"

"i wanted to surprise you"

"well consider me surprised"

you laughed softly as you followed your boyfriend into the red bull garage he gave you a tour of the garage and you followed him clinging onto his arm. he was used to having to hold you up so leaning on him did relieve your aching joints. max knew all about your medical issues he had helped you with them for over a year. he knew that coming to australia was pushing your body past its limits so every so often he made sure to check in on you. make sure that you sat for a little bit before interacting with the rest of the team. however when he left to go and race there was no longer anyone in the garage that knew about your medical issues. and this is what led to you being stood all of the race. stragestists and other people who you gathered were important to the team took the seats, while you stood towards the back of the garage.

it was around lap twenty when your left ankle began to properly hurt and your eyes felt heavy. a clear indicator of fatigue and your body telling you that you needed to rest. but your boyfriend was racing so well and you wanted to be able to watch him. the race continued for a few more laps however just as max started the thirty first lap your ankle gave way, dislocating from the strain of you being stood on it when it was already under pressure. you crumpled onto the floor a yelp leaving your lips as you fell but you were unable to put your hands out to soften your fall so you ended up hitting your head on the hard ground. this was enough to knock you out. first aiders ran over and called the ambulance into the paddock but you next regained consciousness inside the ambulance, on the way to hospital. alone.

f1updates

liked by user35, user36, user37 and 54,092 others

f1updates: as the drivers go into the 4oth lap of the australian gp an ambulance was spotted leaving the paddock with full lights. sources say the ambulance was parked outside of the red bull garage, but no one knows who was inside of it when it left the paddock

view all 554 comments

user35: the stress finally got to horner

user36: shit i hope whoever it is is okay

user37: the red bull garage do look rather stressed

"well done max you have just won the australian grand prix", christian had called over the radio. he felt guilt twinge at him. his girlfriend had been rushed to the hospital thirty laps ago but christian had made the decision to not tell max until the end of the race. he knew that the dutch driver was going to be mad when he heard the news. christian decided he needed someone else to tell max what had happened. "daniel can you come find me as soon as you are out of the car", he had intercepted the racing bulls radio just to give daniel the message, christian knew it would be better to have bad news coming from him rather than himself.

"thirty fucking laps ago", max spoke pacing back and forth in front of one of his closest friends. "you are trying to tell me my girlfriend had an ambulance called on her thirty laps ago and no one told me. she is in a foreign hospital. alone and probably scared shitless", max ranted to danny.

"i know man, christian just asked me to tell you. we can go to the hospital after the podium ceremony"

"oh fuck that i'm going now"

"you aren't driving", daniel knew better than to argue with max in that moment. yes christian would be pissed to find out that max was skipping the podium ceremony but daniel was not going to stop him from leaving. instead the two man snuck out the back of the paddock and to danny's car. the two racecar drivers got to the hospital in record speed with max running up to the front desk asking the nurse where he could find you. he was ushered through the hospital to a ward.

you were sat in a private ward you ankle elevated, an ice pack on your head and fluid iv in your arm. "max. you won.", you spoke softly. you had the television on and the grand prix on, you had just watched footage of a frantic christian looking for the driver that was now in your room.

"that does no matter my love, what happened?"

"i just pushed myself too far max. i forced myself to stand the whole time and my ankle dislocated, the doctors want to operate on it soon. and when i fell i gave myself a nasty concussion", you explained and the look on max's face could only be described as broken.

"oh my love", he spoke softly pressing a kiss to your forehead.

"i just didn't want the fans to think i was a bad girlfriend. that you deserve more than me", you spoke quietly, "they all hate me because i can't go to races", you spoke tears forming in your eyes but max's thumb quickly wiped them away.

"they don't hate you. they just don't know you honey."

"we should put out a statement, tell them what has been going on with me"

"you just read my mind my love"

maxverstappen posted a story tagging y/ninsta

y/ninsta

liked by maxverstappen, landonorris, daniel ricciardo and 830,121 others

tagged maxverstappen

y/ninsta: a long awaited health update. after a week in hospital i am now finally back home from australia. i am expected to have surgery on my ankle in the next couple of weeks. and i am on a strict diet of hourly lollipops because my blood sugar was low. i just wanted to say a massive thank you to max who literally ditched his own podium ceremony (sorry christian) to be with me. i am so incredibly lucky to have you and i love you with all of my heart, even if i am pissing you off while i'm on bedrest.

view all 28,001 comments

maxverstappen: you could never annoy me

y/ninsta: even when i try to walk when i'm not supposed to

maxverstappen: y/n sit tf down

danielricciardo: so glad to hear you are doing better

y/insta: thank you for bringing me take out every day i was in australia

user40: the world owes this girl an apology. you all bitching and moaning about her not being present just to find out that she has a chronic illness. some of you should be really embarrassed rn

[cripplecharacters]

Hi! I was actually wondering if you all could do a really in-depth post specifically on canes versus forearm crutches. I’ve noticed a couple of the recent asks pertain to it, and I think I myself still have one in the queue related to it, but in all of the posts y’all link us too in your answers to those asks, I have found the information is still very sparse and doesn’t directly compare the two in a lot of detail. I would really really love to see a specific dedicated post that breaks down the differences Between them directly, and goes into a lot more detail about what kind of person might prefer a cane and what kind of person might prefer forearm crutches. Differences in conditions, pain levels, fatigue levels, location of issue on their body, other symptoms, examples of disabilities that might more commonly default to one over the other, all that stuff. I’ve looked through basically all your posts on the subject I can find, and still feel like it’s really only scratching the surface, so if there’s a way y’all would be willing to do one big post on this topic specifically, I know at least I would really love it and I think others would as well! Most of the existing posts are a little too broad and surface level, and while I have found them super helpful as a starting point, I would love to see one that zooms in just on these two mobility aids rather than a broad overview of all types of mobility aids being compared like most of the existing resources y’all have. Seriously love what you all do and I would be extremely grateful for this!

Hey anon, just for you:

On Writing Characters Using Canes vs Crutches

[large text: On Writing Characters Using Canes vs Crutches]

This is a writing advice post that doesn't cover every single possibility because that's too impossible to try and do. It's simplified to be coherent for writers who have little to no experience with these sorts of mobility aids, and I encourage anyone who wants to write a character using either of these to treat this post as a small part of a larger research process. This post will contain generalizations for the purpose of me wanting to actually finish it. This is writing advice, not medical information, nor something you should be applying to real life.

Please keep in mind that a lot of the disability examples will only be shown in a single category because otherwise this would be a comical block of text. So yes, I know that a ton of conditions outside the "chronic pain" category also come with chronic pain, but I want this list to be actually easy to look through.

This will compare the cane (singular stick) to crutches (two sticks). Differences between a singular crutch and two canes will be at the end.

Canes

[large text: Canes]

The most primitive mobility aid that's out there. A wrist-height stick with a handle. An incredible invention. You hold it in your hand (at a rather natural angle) and that's mostly it - it's meant to follow a standard (left leg forward, right arm forward) gait and be a support meant for generally milder mobility issues. A cane can take up to 25% of body weight, so like half of what a leg does.

As a TLDR, here's what they could be:

One leg unable to bear the entire weight (but not completely unable) - this could be a result of a problem anywhere from the bottom of the foot all the way to the hip.

Milder balance problems - largely neurological, so either a condition that affects the brain, the spinal cord, or the nerves in the leg. There are also some autoimmune, respiratory, and cardiovascular causes as well, plus a few more.

Back/trunk problems, most commonly pain.

To use a cane you need two legs, most people who use canes for leg reasons will have a “good leg” and a “bad leg”. If this is the case, you'd typically hold the cane on the good leg side, as that redistributes the weight - and pain - between the bad leg and the cane.

The good leg needs to be able to bear the whole weight comfortably, the bad leg needs to be able to bear, at the very least, half of the weight. If the disability affects legs to the point where either:

both have problems weight-bearing;

one can't bear weight at all (e.g., amputation, flaccid paralysis, pain too severe);

then two crutches (or other mobility aid, like a wheelchair) would be the move. The cane doesn't replace an entire leg and is meant to be a minor support.

Examples of what would cause someone to use a cane:

Monoplegia or hemiplegia that is spastic (rigid) in the leg. This could be a result of stroke, traumatic brain injury, cerebral palsy, multiple sclerosis, nerve damage, Brown-Séquard syndrome, polio, encephalitis, transverse myelitis, progressive multifocal leukoencephalopathy, alternating hemiplegia of childhood, hemiplegic migraines, or being a hemispherectomy survivor. And many more things.

Chronic pain; arthritis, hypermobility spectrum disorders, chronic patellar instability, h-EDS, neuropathy, peripheral artery disease, past injuries (e.g., broken foot that healed incorrectly), systemic lupus erythematosus, joint replacement, chronic bursitis, and a lot more.

Relatively minor fatigue - most fatigue disorders will be on a wide spectrum, and people's symptoms often vary a lot. But a cane could help with fibromyalgia, Charcot Marie Tooth disease, POTS, scoliosis, severe kyphosis/lordosis, COPD (and other respiratory conditions), or milder forms of CFS/ME. Someone undergoing chemotherapy (or taking some other fatigue-causing medication) could also use one.

Muscle conditions, which are an even bigger spectrum. Spinal muscular atrophy type 3 and 4, early Limb-Girdle muscular dystrophy, tibial MD, Becker MD, or early myotonic dystrophy type 2 can all be reasons to use a cane. Keep in mind that these have drastically different presentations from person to person, and it's not entirely unusual for two people with the same kind of muscular dystrophy to use very different mobility aids (e.g., a tilt-in-space powerchair vs ...no aid at all). These are just the ones where I'm aware of a person who 1) has it, 2) uses a cane, even if it's not the most common aid.

Prosthetic leg on one side; usually below knee (high level amputees will more often go for crutches, even if they use a prosthetic).

The second biggest reason why people use a cane is balance. For this the cane can be held in either hand; some people have a preference, generally for the non-dominant hand for convenience - although many people with balance problems will also have a coordination disorder that might make using their non-dominant hand too difficult. Some people will switch the side they hold it on.

For a lot of people with balance problems, a cane might be the aid they use at home, and use a rollator or a wheelchair outside.

A good cane for balance purposes is a quad cane - it has four legs at the bottom and offer more stability than the single point equivalent. However, the larger base might also mean that for some people it can be easier to hit it with their foot, which ranges from annoying to dangerous.

Examples of disabilities that affect balance;

Many of the things included in the first section - primarily those that directly affect the brain or nerves.

Conditions that cause vertigo - again, many of the same things as before because a lot of them tend to originate in the brain. So other than aforementioned meningitis or stroke and the like: Ramsay Hunt syndrome, migraines, basically any sort of brain damage, POTS, Meniere's disease, labyrinthitis.

Respiratory problems, like chronic obstructive pulmonary disease, severe asthma, or lupus.

Coordination disorders - again, a lot of overlap with aforementioned disabilities, so I'll skip to things I haven't mentioned yet. Ataxia could be caused by a lot of things; some include the Chiari malformation, ataxia-telangiectasia, Friedrich's ataxia, Parkinson's, brain tumors, or Niemann-Pick disease. Dystonia is usually a primary condition rather than being caused by other things (although it can be). Dyspraxia is also a coordination disorder generally milder than ataxia, and canes can be potentially helpful for it as well.

As mentioned before, some coordination disorders will affect the upper limbs as well, and it might be too difficult to use a cane. For disabilities like Huntington’s disease, or ataxia that significantly affects the hands, rollators and wheelchairs tend to be more helpful.

Anything that causes the person to fall. Fall risk is the primary reason people use canes.

A cane can also be used for back/trunk issues. One can lift off some weight of the body from above the Problem by putting the weight on the arm instead. I have really severe kyphosis as well as (partial) trunk muscle atrophy/coordination problems and quite literally can't straighten my back for more than a few minutes at most - my cane allows me to do that more easily and without needing to think about it as much.

Examples of some conditions that cause that include;

sciatica;

degenerative disk disease;

past spine injury;

scoliosis or severe kyphosis/lordosis.

In my experience, you need fairly good arm strength to use a cane comfortably. For people with more significant weakness in upper limbs, rollators tend to work better.

Grip strength is also important; there are canes designed to mitigate this (the platform cane/crutch comes to mind) but they're not the most common because often (not always) when someone has this issue they already require a larger mobility aid.

Canes are often a "starting" mobility aid, i.e., a person starts using it at first but later transitions to using something else as their disability progresses (or they realize that it wasn't adequate in the first place, it mostly happens with slowly progressive conditions - when they decide to get a cane, it's often just too late). A cane can be useful at the very start of an onset of amyotrophic lateral sclerosis, but it's basically worthless beyond that.

Similarly (kind of), a cane can be the "smaller" mobility aid for someone who uses multiple of them at the same time. Someone dealing with fatigue could use a cane at home, but need a rollator for going out, or a wheelchair for longer trips. Another person could use a cane when going out with a prosthetic leg on, but use a wheelchair or crutches at home when not wearing the prosthetic.

Crutches

[large text: Crutches]

These are more complex and provide more help. Crutches directly affect your gait depending on the exact disability, and take away both hands. They can potentially take up to 100% of body weight for parts of the walking cycle if you have good upper body strength and balance, and 50% otherwise (so, one good or two half-good legs still required).

Crutches are used for a lot of things (realistically too many to cover here) so I'll just go with the main categories that encompass most of them.

A) Both legs can't fully bear weight;

The same things as in the cane section, but present on both sides rather than one.

Hypotonia; can be caused by thousands of things. Some include Down syndrome, Tay-Sachs syndrome, achondroplasia, being born prematurely, brain damage, and congenital hypothyroidism.

Paraplegia that's low-level and/or incomplete, or quadriplegia that's incomplete. Quadriplegia is a huge spectrum as well, and it will depend on the amount of strength and flexibility that the individual person has in their arms and hands.

Bilateral amputation with prosthetics. (Someone who can bear weight no problem but has a milder balance problem could use a cane instead.)

B) One leg can't bear any or a lot of weight;

The same things as in the cane section, they're basically all on a spectrum, so some people choose a cane and others choose crutches.

Unilateral amputation, or congenital limb difference.

Limb length discrepancy where it doesn't touch the ground or barely does so.

C) Significant balance issues;

Same things as for canes, but either more severe or just someone's personal preference.

D) Back/trunk pain;

Same as C).

Additional note based on things I have seen: you can't use crutches if you have no legs and no prosthetics. You can't walk literally just on crutches. You need at least a single leg or prosthetic.

(Yeah I'm aware that there's probably a guy somewhere who does tricks where he does exactly that for a short video. That's Crutches Georg and he should not be counted because 99.9% of crutches users won't be doing that ever.)

Crutches will provide much more stability and relieve more pressure than a cane, but there is a wide range of the amount of support depending on how they are utilized.

What the disability is can actually present itself in the person's gait - there are a few main ones that are associated with crutches;

Four-point. The two legs and two crutches work as four different points of support, and three of them are in contact with the ground at any time. A lot (not all) of people who use it will use crutches full-time and/or not be able to stand without them. The most stable and the slowest out of all of these.

Three-point. Probably the one most people have in mind when thinking crutches. The crutches both move at the same time, along with the bad leg, then the good leg follows. This is the "broken leg in a cast" way of walking.

Two-point. The closest to how non-crutch users generally walk. It's like having a cane on each side; left crutch forward, right leg forward. Fairly fast.

Step-to. The crutches work as one point of contact, and the legs as the other - both of each will move forward at the same time. In the step-to, a person puts their feet at the crutches' height. Fairly fast as well.

and step-through. I'd say the most difficult, least stable, providing the least amount of support. The same as in step-to, both crutches go forward before both legs, however here the legs get swung through them while the person is only holding up on crutches. This is the fastest that it gets, and can definitely be faster than an abled person walking. You can run quickly like this.

If you have issues visualizing them, there are a lot of great demonstrations on YouTube that you can look up for clarification.

There are a lot of subtle differences in which one people end up using, but as a rule of thumb, the more balance they lack, the more points of support they need. To provide some examples;

a person with quadriplegic cerebral palsy might lack balance and coordination, so they might use a four-point gait.

A person with one-sided tarsal tunnel syndrome can walk with a three-point gait, as it can be used to mitigate weight-bearing fully or partially - if the pain gets worse, they can just not touch the ground with that leg.

A person with incomplete thoracic spinal cord injury could also work with a three point gait, though they would put both legs on the ground. If someone has good strength in the arms and trunk, they can get both crutches in the front along with one leg, then try to get the second one to go forward as well. This is how a lot of crutch users with a disability affecting two legs, but with decent balance and upper body strength, walk.

A person who had a traumatic brain injury and now experiences balance problems but not as much leg issues could opt for a two-point gait. It does help with weight redistribution, but primarily provides a lot of balance.

Both step-to and step-through are primarily used by single-leg problem havers (like unilateral amputees) in my experience, but I've seen people with diplegia or incomplete low-level spastic paraplegia use it too. You need very good balance and good upper body strength. I've seen dudes do backflips and ride skateboards on crutches like this. You can run as well and be way faster than you think.

The same as canes, crutches require arm strength. The more you're looking to take away from the legs, the more will go to the shoulders. If someone doesn't have the needed arm strength, a rollator will be more helpful. Walkers not so much as they still require some strength to turn.

More Direct Comparisons

[large text: More Direct Comparisons]

The differences between pain and fatigue levels might be somewhat evident from comparing the sections above - to generalize the subject as much as possible: the bigger the pain or the fatigue, the higher possibility of using crutches over a cane is. They provide more relief for both, as well as providing more balance.

Now, there's always exceptions. Someone might not be able to use two sticks, because of a disability affecting one of the arms - hemiplegia is a common example. In this case, the person could prefer to use a single crutch rather than two. They could opt for platform crutches, which don't require as secure of a grip. They might need a rollator instead. They might have a powerchair that they operate with their good arm.

Another thing is that some people will use crutches even if a cane would work just as well. Some people like the grip more, or find them easier to use. They could also like that crutches are seen as more medical than a cane, which could be seen as a fashion accessory. Maybe they can be faster on crutches than with a cane (e.g., if their disability is limited to a single leg, getting it out of the walk cycle might be more convenient) and that matters to them.

And to go with this, some people just don't like crutches. I personally don't like the forearm cuff because I tend to swing my wrist around with my cane rather than hold it perfectly straight, so the cuff seems annoying. For someone else that could be more than a preference, e.g. if they have a limb difference that affects the length of their forearms to be much shorter - a person like this could prefer two canes.

As to what mobility aids are better for which disabilities, it's highly individualized, but to heavily generalize again: canes tend to be more helpful for relatively milder disabilities, and crutches for relatively more significant ones based on the amount of support they provide. But that's an oversimplification so simple that it's not really useful.

Someone with neuropathy in parts of their foot might find a cane completely sufficient, but it wouldn't be as useful for someone with nerve damage that caused flaccid paralysis from the hip down; they would probably prefer crutches. But then again, someone with mild vertigo could use crutches because they prefer them (even if a cane would work just fine) while someone else might have incomplete C6 quadriplegia and use a cane with leg braces over crutches because they enjoy having a free hand.

For more similarities between the two; overuse injuries can happen to both cane and crutch users, generally in the shoulder(s). They're not very common unless you're putting more weight on them than you're supposed to. They're very annoying because it drastically tanks your mobility until they get better (unless you can walk without them just as much that is), but they're treatable with physical therapy.

Now for the two canes and a singular crutch. Let's start with the fact that the latter is infinitely more popular than the former. It's basically the same as a single cane but more supportive; it's good for people who need more balance than a cane provides but can't use both hands. Two canes is very rare and I can't tell you what the actual pattern of choosing them over other options is outside of personal preference because I have no idea.

The general conclusion of the post is that crutches and canes really aren't that different, and are more of a spectrum of usable sticks by the amount of support they provide to the user. That's why often you'll see canes and crutches listed as the same thing when it comes to "management of XYZ disability" type resources - for a lot of them they're rather similar in practice, especially when compared to rollators, walkers, scooters, or wheelchairs.

I hope this was more in depth and therefore more helpful, if this still leaves you with some unanswered question feel free to reach out again.

mod Sasza

[ilovejoostklein]

HAIII, sorry if this is confusing, but can i request joost with a reader who is like... a TERRIBLE social reject but also makes music... they dread doing concerts, releasing full albums, and interviews but they still do it for their career?...

hii, yes ofc <3

-

Bed Peace

You’re an anxious singer and your boyfriend Joost comforts you the morning of one of your shows

sfw: fluff, light angst

-

You lay tangled in the bed of your hotel room with Joost. You grimaced at the empty bottles and shot glasses littering the coffee table, the headache from your hangover squeezing your head and pinching the back of your eyes making you more miserable than you felt last night. Your body was destroyed with fatigue and from the two-hour concert you’d had last night, ears still aching from the sounds of the music and screaming fans. You dreaded the fact of knowing what the day held in store for you today. 

It was only moments like these that brought you true happiness, your boyfriend sleeping peacefully behind you with his strong arms around your waist. He was always so calm. He was like a pond, still and beautiful, nothing ever disrupting his mood that always seemed to be cheerful, and if he wasn’t it was still always so contained and rational. You didn’t know what to compare yourself to, a riptide, a never-ending storm that could only be lulled into security with substances and the presence of your sweet boyfriend who put up with your worries. 

Joost woke up when he felt your heartbeat against his hands. It was certainly a strange way to wake up, and incredibly alarming to see that you were already so distraught first thing in the morning. It was crushing to see you this way, he tried whatever he could and still, he felt like a failure. Since you’d been together you’d turned him into a better person, he felt the difference every day when life had slowed down and everything felt and appeared more beautiful. He wished that he could do that for you, but he was beginning to realize that the issue was far bigger than you both. 

“You’re always up before me.” His voice was still groggy with sleep, pressing a kiss to your bare shoulder. “We overdid it last night, hm?”

You didn’t respond, staring at the empty bottles under the exposing morning night you couldn’t help but feel a bit ashamed. You felt Joost kiss your cheek, putting his fingers underneath your chin so that you’d face him. 

“I think you have to get up soon.” He dreaded saying it as much as you did. “Big day today.”

You groaned, rolling over so that you’d be able to bury your face into his chest. You breathed him in, he still smelled faintly of the body wash he always traveled with which somehow calmed your nerves. 

“I wish I could cancel the stupid fucking interview.” Your profanity made him chuckle, bringing you closer into his arms. “Do you think I can?”

“For the second time?” Joost asked, his voice gently suggesting you to be more rational. “It’s short, and you’ll do a good job like always.”

Even if you were media trained to the point you felt like a circus animal, you abhorred nothing more than doing pointless interviews and touring. You tried to avoid falling into more dangerous substances, facing it all head-on, and by the end, you were dizzy and overcome with anxiety. You’d always been so anti-social, it was a miracle that you had someone like Joost who was effortlessly charming and sociable. You wished that you could take some of it for yourself. 

“I hate it.” You mumbled, glancing at the clock on the wall realizing that you didn’t have too much time. 

“I know, baby.” He said, kissing you. “But you love to sing, and I love it too, so it’ll be worth it.”

“It’s easy for you.” You retorted. “You know I just want to sing and do nothing else.”

“It doesn’t work like that.” You frowned hearing his tone shift into something more serious, forcing him to be the voice of reason. “Your career isn’t like mine.”

He was right. Your career was much more serious than his. It wasn’t that Joost was careless, but he could be himself and have fun with his career while you couldn’t. You wished it was the same way for you, even knowing you couldn’t be half as charming if you tried.

You wanted to stay with Joost in bed all day. You held him closer, expecting him to pressure you to get up again, but you felt him give into you when he pulled you atop his chest. His arms wrapped around your waist, and you two stayed embracing each other in silence for a while. 

You hoped that Joost would fall asleep, giving you an excuse to do the same and blame him when you’d inevitably wake up and realize you’d missed the interview. You propped yourself up only to make direct eye contact. Your face flushed with anxiety, forcing yourself to smile to try to dull the intensity you felt. 

“How badly do you not want to go?” Joost suddenly asked the blush on your cheeks now feeling unbearable. 

You stifled the tears forming in your eyes. Joost cared about you so much, no matter how stubborn and self-deprecating you could be he was always so gentle. You felt his hands cup your face, his thumb smoothing down on your cheek tenderly. 

“I don’t want to.” You mumbled. “I just want to stay here with you, before my show.”

“Ok then, liefde.” He whispered, bringing your head forward to kiss your nose. “Oh no.” He said in a concerned tone.

“What is it?” You asked, feeling your heart rate pick up. Your anxiety was always set off so easily. “Joost.” You pressed.

“You feel really warm.” You realized he was being sarcastic, feeling a smile form on your face. “I think I have to call your manager m’en meisje is getting sick.”

You watched in relief as he grabbed his phone from your shared nightstand and sent a text to your manager, turning his phone to show their quick response. You could feel their annoyance through the message, but you couldn’t be bothered to care. The relief felt almost invigorating, your anxieties and worries melting away all at once knowing that you could spend the rest of the afternoon in bed with your boyfriend. 

“I love you, Joost.” You said sweetly, kissing him over and over again on his cheek. “You’re the best, I’m serious.”

“I’m just selfish.” He chuckled, kissing you back, “I want to keep you with me all the time.”

“I wish.” You said a bit solemnly, knowing that the time would quickly pass as it always did when you were happy. “I’m glad you’ll be at my show at least.”

“I’m your biggest fan.” He pinched your cheek lovingly. 

You settled into your boyfriend’s arms, the safety and unconditional love soothing your heart completely. You wished that you could love your career, not just the act of singing. You wished you could grow to love the process of waking up before the sun to write and record songs for hours every day until your entire body ached with boredom. You didn’t know what you would do without Joost, he was your person in all of this. 

“I really love you, Joost.” You mumbled, feeling both of you slowly getting taken away by sleep again. “I’m so lucky.”

“I love you more.” You could hear him getting more tired, it was cute. “And I’m luckier.”

“You’re falling asleep again?” You whispered, trying to keep the calmness of the room. 

“Mhm.” He hummed, his eyes still shut. “You should rest too, you’re sick remember?”

-

ya’ll i hope i’m using these dutch words right… hope u enjoyed

[goldenrulemotherfucker]

Real talk, I came to the Fallout series a total newb, knowing nothing about the lore/games and came away with a new favorite show, easily in my top five. In particular, something it does exceptionally well is narrative payoff. Nothing in this show happens just to happen; every choice the characters make shapes their future arcs. As a SFF writer myself, I'm not only impressed--I'm inspired.

I feel this way about the entire story, but in terms of Lucy and Cooper specifically, we get so many great payoffs from their interactions. When he doesn't share his water, it seems like he's just being a dick until we learn that his canteen is full of dirty water. (Yes, he was still being a dick, but he knew she naively thought he was drinking clean water.) When he forces her to use the knife in the "ass jerky" scene, he's absolutely being cruel, but he's also extremely fatigued to the point of near collapse, which only becomes clear only after she's out of sight at the Super Duper Mart. When he cuts off her finger, it seems like nothing more than him "getting even," when he actually took a much-needed replacement part for his hand (from someone he assumed wouldn't be alive much longer).

These interactions are all brutal, give us new insights into both characters, and also set up a massive payoff in Lucy's "golden rule, motherfucker" moment. Even after everything he put her through and how he treated her as disposable, she does the opposite and shows him empathy and kindness. To put it plainly: Her choice in this scene wouldn't carry half as much weight if he hadn't repeatedly treated her like shit. Coupled with her ability to self-rescue, the scene cements who Lucy is as a person--both for the viewer and for Cooper. (And what happens next? He watches a film clip where his old self looks right at him and delivers the line about a villain being ugly and strong but having no dignity.)

The moment when Lucy gives him the vials could have been enough of a payoff for their arc by itself. But it sets up an even better one: The next time they cross paths, he treats her differently. Having already seen himself in her, and knowing that they both want answers to the same (or very similar) questions, he invites her to accompany him on his journey this time--no longer as a pawn, but as someone he trusts and respects at least a little. As a direct payoff for her memorable act of kindness toward him, this fucking rules. It's surprising while also feeling completely earned. "Golden rule, motherfucker," isn't just a satisfying moment (or my favorite line), it shapes the characters' future.

On Lucy's side, when she decides to follow him, she has no reasons to trust or respect him (yet); she likely just recognizes that he's currently the only person who will lead her to the truth. But she's only met the Ghoul so far, not Cooper Howard. She doesn't know that his primary motivation has been searching for his family this whole time. She doesn't know that she's seen him before, in those old movies she watched at home. She doesn't know why he shot the billboard.

Now, I'm not making predictions about how their future arc will play out (nor am I asking for them), I'm just along for the ride. But I feel confident that there will be many more great payoffs to come now that they've gone from "hostile forced proximity" to "traveling together by choice." I've rarely been so pumped for a second season. <3

[entertext]

HGSN 33-1

Chapter (Japanese)

(Please hit the green thumbs up at the end of the Japanese chapter to show support)

Rough translation by me

P1

(sign: Tenban Retreat)

(sign: Udekari Specialty: Mountain Forage Ice Cream - Take a break after a long hike!)

--

(sign: Are your eyes fatigued? - Takahashi Optometry)

Asako: So, our ancestors offered heads to that "hole"?

Tanaka: That's right.

P2

Asako: You're super suspicious, mister, but I guess you really are a researcher...

Tanaka: I'm no good at dealing with other people, sorry about that.

Tanaka: You've heard of the folktale, "The Farmer's Head", right? It's the hole from that story.

Asako: "The Farmer's Head"? I've heard it...The one everyone gets told?

Asako: (If I remember, the farmer was greedy and tried to hide the mushroom in the hole when his head came off...)

Asako: (...what was the reason the head came off again?)

Tanaka: Now listen

P3

Tanaka: To close the hole

Tanaka: There are two different methods

Tanaka: The first is what I said before, the method where a person crosses to the other side to close it.

Tanaka: But for that, you or I would have to die.

Tanaka: So we'll go with the second method: making a monster close it instead

P4

Asako: Make a monster close it... I see! Then that sounds like a plan!

Tanaka: No, we could still totally die, hahaha!

Tanaka: There's just a small chance we won't

Tanaka: That's why it helps that you're here. You can hear them but can't see them right?

Asako: Yes...Right now, its only my left ear, but I can basically only hear them...I can't do anything else...

Tanaka: That's actually better for us

P5

Asako: You're saying it's better not to see them...?

Tanaka: When you heard a voice from that house before, you thought it was a cat, right?

(??: i'm a cat i'm a cat i'm a cat)

Tanaka: Just like that time

Tanaka: Carelessly giving something a form is very bad

Asako: Giving something a form...

Tanaka: It's next to impossible for a human to accept something formless as is. So...

P6

Tanaka: We give it a name and for the first time recognize what it is.

(label: Circle)

Tanaka: This isn't a bad thing per se. It's what's necessary for humans.

Tanaka: But reality is complex and filled with things that can't be easily categorized

Tanaka: All the more so for the world of monsters

Tanaka: The moment you fit it into a human value system

(label: Cat)

Tanaka: You become unable to discern its true nature

P7

Asako: Um...In other words, it's important to think without deciding something is "definitely this!"?

Tanaka: Well, that's about right. That's why not being able to see them is an advantage in this world

Asako: ?

Tanaka: People only see what they want to see. The moment a person sees one, they'll always fit it into some form

Tanaka: And an impurity given form will also be able to look back at them

Tanaka: Like that, "eyes" create a connection between you and an impurity.

P8

Tanaka: That means that when people like us make contact with monsters, we have to look with eyes beyond that of a human

Tanaka: To earnestly look at only what's in front of us

Tanaka: If you don't try to know it one-to-one without fitting it into a human framework

Tanaka: That "connection" will rip the rug out from under you.

Asako: That sounds like it's really difficult...

Tanaka: ...well, if someone could really do that perfectly, they wouldn't be human anymore.

P9

Asako: I don't know anything about the thing inside 'Hikaru' either...

Tanaka: From what's been observed, there are tons of them, but... it's an unknown existance that very rarely appears in this world and grants people's wishes

Tanaka: ...that's all we know about them. Well, knowing that you don't know something is still the first step forwards

Tanaka: Anyway, you have the advantageous power to hear without seeing.

Tanaka: Using that...

P10

Tanaka: I'd like for you to be "interpreter" for our negotiations with the monsters.

(sfx: trembles)

==

Extras:

1 - (link)

2 - (link)

Asako: How come you only ever ea-...like sweets?

Tanaka: My taste buds are dead and I can't taste anything but sweetness!

Asako: Huh? Huh?? So do you just eat ice cream everyday??

Tanaka: Toothpaste tastes good too!

[358jours]

Yanqing x GN!Reader⎢But I’m so ‘eepy

Word Count⎢1300

Genre/Tags⎢SFW, fluff, Reader is a big introvert and is sleep deprived, shopping dates, PDA, written and posted before game launch⎢Crossposted on AO3

You stifle another yawn as Yanqing drags you around. You’re holding hands, fingers laced together. He walks ahead of you, loud joy in his steps. He’s almost always sporting a smile in public, but the happiness radiating off of him right now is something else. He forced you out of your room today, and though you love his presence, your social battery can only last so long. At this point, you’re practically dead weight he’s carrying on his own.

Yanqing is an energetic young man, extroverted, optimistic, though perhaps a bit naive. He enjoys anything that has to do with swords the most such as taking care of them, training, competitions. He’s also a big spender on his hobbies, always ending up begging his father –or even you– to finance his basic needs. Many people are aware of who he is due to all that, and also the fact he’s the lieutenant. 

You are the opposite. An introverted soul, sleep deprived, fond of staying inside. You tend to stay up far too late into the night, kept up by good video games, and bad decisions. “I can still play, like, fifteen minutes more”, cue three am beeping on your alarm clock after hours passed unnoticed. You could count on one hand those aware of who you are too. First General Jing Yuan, the leader of the Luofu himself, then an unnamed accountant, whose existence only matters for a single reason (your pay), and Yanqing himself. Perhaps Marshal Hua might count as well as she knows about everything, but you never met her personally. 

Yanqing is the only person able to drag you out of your room for more than an hour, and the only person able to drag you out outside at all. Perhaps ‘drag you out’ is too strong a word as you always consent to going out with him, but your mood is a bit sour from your dead social battery and the fatigue in your body. As far as you’re aware, everyone on the Luofu market street has dubbed you “Yanqing’s sleepy partner” (You can’t really blame them, it would be quite awkward to ask “so what’s your name?” while your self-proclaimed knight in shining armor is right by your side). You have a very “cat and dog” personality contrast that makes people laugh, opposites attract or so they say. 

.

Yanqing pulls you forward amidst the crowd. “Finally, we’ve arrived at the Artisanship Commission!”

You take a moment to take in the sight. The sun is high, barely two in the afternoon, and illuminates the red city radiantly, this shop as well. The view is beautiful, yes, but honestly your mind is so jaded, it’s hard to grasp reality. Hopefully this is the last stop for today, Aeons know you won’t survive if you don’t get your afternoon nap. You hear Yanqing's voice and– oh he’s talking to a vendor, nevermind. They seem to know each other, by the way they laugh at least. 

You look over to the swords on display. They’re all impressive, a vast range of different colors and sizes. The one you like best is mainly clear blue and has a yin-yang on its guard, it looks pretty though perhaps a bit heavy for Yanqing? The second one is thinner, it’s mainly black with white and blue accents. It would look good in his hands. The one beside it is ew full-gold yellow, and though the color is less than attractive, the details forged on it are stunning. 

You don’t notice the vendor handing Yanqing a sword. He lifts the hand you’re holding, and looks at you curiously. You let go sheepishly to which he only smiles. The vendor giggles. Ah, embarrassing. 

You space out once more while Yanqing listens with grand attention to the explanations about the ki-controlled attacks the sword can perform. You’re kind of staring at him as he tests the sword through different movements, touching the blade with the tip of his finger. It looks alright, but the swords on display are prettier. He hands it back, the vendor leaves for a moment, and comes back with another. The same happens, and again, and again, and you feel your legs more and more. Trying not to yawn becomes harder and harder.

Your interest is peaked when the vendor brings him the sword with the yin-yang guard. They talk about the features again, he moves it a bit. He hums, does bigger movements, it seems he likes this one too. You rest your head against his shoulder “I like this one.” 

He shifts his head slightly. “Really?” 

“Yeah. It’s pretty and it goes well with your outfit. You should take a dark gray scabbard to go with it.” 

Yanqing hums. He looks at the sword one last time before handing it back. “Alright, I’ll take two, and two dark gray scabbards.” 

The vendor looks very surprised, but happily obliges. They shuffle, occupied in preparing his purchases. Your partner sports a smile on his face, his happiness showing through his proud stance. You don’t fight your yawn this time, and close your eyes. You open them soon after at the sound of a pathetic whine and your name however. Yanqing’s face is contorted in dread. You’re a bit confused about what is wrong, your mind foggy— oh. 

.

His wallet is completely empty. 

You laugh loudly, which makes him even more embarrassed. “Hey, come on! How am I supposed to pay now? And I already said I was taking it home too…” But it only worsens your fit. You grip onto his arm to not fall. The vendor comes back, and Yanqing hastily hides the hollow pouch. He looks at the vendor worriedly as you continue laughing against him. 

“You two are adorable together. Mind repeating your joke?” The vendor smiles at you both. 

“Yeah, thank you. Uh.” Yanqing let out an embarrassed laugh as he scratched the back of his neck. 

You recover enough to hand your credit card to the vendor. “He forgot his money at home.” Yanqing stutters as the vendor snorts. You’re handed back your card, and your partner receives his new swords. He carries them with his left arm while his right hand is occupied, as he refuses not to hold hands with you whenever you are out. 

You walk together for a bit, saying nothing. He’s not dragging you everywhere like before anymore, thankfully. The sun is still high, but at least forty minutes have passed, if not more. Yanqing is the first to break the silence, “You should name it, the sword. But it’s important so you should think deeply about it, yeah?” 

You hum, your mind occupied by other priorities. You pull him in a direction. “Nap time.” 

“What?!” He’s taken aback, clearly confused and in shock. “No way I’ll let you name it that!”

You pull him again and— push him to sit on a bench? He’s still lost, looking at you for clarification. He’s by the far side while you go sit in the middle. He’s about to ask more when you suddenly lay down. Your head goes to rest on his lap. “Nap time, wake me up in one hour or if it starts raining.” 

Yanqing opens his mouth and closes it, still confused although now flustered. “Really? Right here, right now? I thought you disliked being in public.”

You hum a bit, shifting, making yourself comfortable on the hard bench. It would take longer than one hour before getting sunburned right? So this is probably fine. Between the sun high in the sky, the soft breeze, and the comfort of Yanqing, you don’t think you’ll have much trouble resting in public. “Bed is too far, and I’m so ‘eepy.”

He huffs, although there’s a smile on his face. “Alright.” 

[sad-not-glad]

I Know Something You Don’t

Bucky x pregnant! Reader

Warnings: nothing but pure fluff ahead

Word count: 1077

A/N: another repost from my old account. This was my favorite :’)

Part two: Here!

Bucky had noticed several things changing about you lately.

The first thing started nearly two weeks ago. You were going to bed earlier everyday and waking up even later than that. It was very unusual for you, and it worried him. Although it wasn’t quite tot he point of talking to you about it he still made sure to keep a close eye on you as you went about your daily buisness per usual, seeking out anything else that could be wrong.

The second thing began about five days ago. You felt really sick and could never keep your food down. At least that’s what he though, until he saw you squirreling some of his favorite beef jerky away at 3 in the morning. He didn’t mention the fact that you hated jerkey or the odd time, just helped you back into bed where you belonged, wrapped in his arms. While you fell back to sleep his mind kept him awake, staring at the wall over your shoulder as he ran every possible scenario through his head. What could be wrong with you?

The third thing he noticed was only this morning. Well, it was two things actually. To start, your cute face was just a little puffy. He adored you either way but he knew how active you were and it didn’t make sense to him that you would be gaining weight like that, until you stepped out of the shower. Without the hum of the bathroom fan the room was strikingly quiet. With his enhanced hearing he could focus on certain sounds, someone in the next room, a spider in the corner, a heartbeat. And very clearly right beneath your own was a small quick flutter of a new heartbeat. His breath caught in his throat as the pieces slowly clicked themselves together in his head.

Fatigue

Odd food craving

Sickness

Bloating

Pregnancy?

He watched dumbfounded as you went about your morning routine, changing into clothes and brushing out your wet hair. Bucky couldn’t move from the bed, he felt like he was frozen in place. Before he was composed enough to question what was happening you had kissed his cheek and left the bedroom you shared.

After training with Natasha you joined whoever was present at the tower for breakfast on the communal floor. You’re preparing to sit next to Bucky when he takes your waist, gently guiding you to his lap instead, and it takes you by surprise. Bucky was never big on PDA, he had multiple reasons and you respected them. So for him to be so affectionate in front of the team, it was shocking to say the least.

He wouldn’t let you feed yourself, keeping one hand trapped in his while he raised the food to your mouth bite by bite. You both kept getting weird glances from your friends. After breakfast he followed you around like a kicked puppy, showering your exposed skin with soft kisses and clinging to you any chance he got. It was cute to start but now it was starting to worry you. Bucky made you stop walking down the hall so he could squeeze you to his chest, placing a breathtaking kiss to your lips. When he pulls back you blink, trying to remember what you wanted to say. He smiles down to you, petting the hair away from your face softly.

“Bucky, what’s wrong with you today?”

“What do you mean?”

“You’ve been… different. Needy.”

He stares down at you before his face slowly rises in heat as a dark blush stains his cheeks.

“No, I haven’t.”

You raise an accusing eyebrow as he shuffles nervously on his feet while checking the hallway for other people.

“Seriously, Bucky, what-“

“You’re pregnant.”

That wasn’t what you were expecting in the slightest. Your jaw softly falls open as you gape at him in shock, because how could he possibly know that?

“I’m not pregnant.”

“Yes, you are. I can-“

He takes a deep breath, hands coming down to gently pet across your stomach.

“I can hear them, (Y/N). Its so small but it’s there, I can hear another heartbeat.”

Your eyes shoot down to where his hand rests as you slowly start to really consider what he was saying. You were feeling more tired lately, and eating things you hate, and your period was late, but that was all normal, right? It’s just my hormones wasn’t a good excuse anymore, clearly. Finally you look back up at Bucky who’s almost vibrating with nervous energy.

“I have to take a test.”

“A test?”

“A pregnancy test, Buck. I need to go buy some.”

He nods, hauling you up into his arms as you shriek in surprise.

“Bucky!”

“What? I’m taking you.”

“I can walk just fine-“

“But my baby can’t walk yet!”

You stare down at him in astonishment as he makes his way quickly to your room so you can get your shoes, wallet, and keys.

This was easily the longest two minutes of your entire life, waiting for the little digital screen to display the words that were about to change your entire life. The loading bar disappeared for a second before the word ‘PREGNANT’ flashed across the screen. You choked back a strangled sob as Bucky stepped closer from his spot near the door.

“Is it…?”

You turn, hands shaking as you look over to him.

“I’m pregnant.”

There’s a beat of silence and you can’t stop your smile from splitting your face. Bucky grins back at you, pulling you forward against his chest as you both rocked gently from side to side.

“We’re gonna have a baby!”

He pulled back just a fraction to smother you with kisses. You screamed with laughter as his stubble tickled your cheek, trying in vain to push him away. When he finally looks up at you it takes your breath away, the pure love and adoration in his gaze. All for you. Before you can think to stop yourself you grab his face, pressing your lips together in a sweet kiss as the tears begin to break free.

“Oh honey, I’m so happy.”

Softly you brush the tears from his cheeks as you ignore your own. He chuckles, leaning his head into your hand as you stare at each other in silence. This was the start of their new life together, and neither could wait for the new addition to their little family of misfits.

[stayinlimbo]

Returned Call

wc: 765, genre: exes to lovers(?), warnings: cursing in beginning, slightly unedited

note: although i feel this could be read as a stand-alone, here is the sequel to Missed Call you guys were asking for. i hope you enjoy ♡

Your call has been forwarded to an automatic voice message system: You know. Lee Minho. Not available. Voicemail. Speak. 

Fuck you, Lee Minho. No, seriously, fuck you. 

Tell me why I was contacted by not one but three of your dancing buddies within the past twenty-four hours about how you’ve been moping around and trudging through your routines for the past week. 

They were all essentially the same. You haven’t been the same since we broke up, is there any way we could reconnect, give you one more chance, blah blah blah. 

You must be doing really bad if one of them was Hyunjin, of all people. 

Two months too late, don’t you think?

As if any of this was my fault.

…

I was getting better before you called, you know?

I finally fixed my sleep schedule. I won’t lie, it took longer than I’d like to admit to break the habit of staying up late for you. At least I was already used to sleeping alone. 

I reconnected with some old friends since I couldn’t talk to Jisung as much without being reminded of you. They can still read me like a book, even after all these years.

I even went on a date. 

Granted, it was with myself, but I like to think it still counts.  

…

You know what I realized on my “date?” And while out with my friends? And on the sleepless nights I spent staring up at my childhood bedroom’s ceiling?

I had forgotten what it felt like to be seen. To be appreciated. To be loved. 

It seems like you’ve come to that conclusion as well, because you’re right. I deserved better. I deserve better. I may have ended our relationship, but I wasn’t the one who left first.

I remember our last kiss, paired with another one of your lies I foolishly kept believing in until I finished the movie night you promised you’d be home in time for. And I remember waking up on the couch with a sore neck to see your fatigued silhouette entering the front door, barely sparing me a glance as you dragged yourself towards the bedroom. 

You didn’t even look sorry. 

How could you, I guess, if you left everything back at the studio?

…

I used to admire your passion, Minho. I hate that I still do. You pour everything you have, everything you can possibly give, into what you love. So why couldn’t you do the same for us? For me?

You say you love me, but why does it feel like I lost something I'm not sure I ever had? 

…

Where did we go wrong? What did I do wrong? I gave everything to you. I gave you my heart, my body, my entire being. I gave you everything until there was nothing left to give.

I never asked for anything outlandish. I think it’s reasonable to want to talk with your partner, to share your lives with one another. I think it’s reasonable to ask about when you’ll be home for our anniversary without being yelled at in front of your friends. 

You want me to be proud of you? You want me to be happy about one of the very things that ripped us apart?

Yes, you’re selfish, but I’m no better. 

…

Maybe this is my fault. After all, no one should feel obligated to love someone. I just never thought it’d apply to us. 

…I wish I could hate you. I really do. 

But all I see is your stupid face smiling at me when I close my eyes. I hear your laugh ringing in my ears when I remember the ways you said or did something ridiculous to make me feel better after a stressful day. I still feel the warmth of your body wrapped around mine when we did wake up next to each other, our legs entwined together to where it was impossible to escape. Not that I ever wanted to. 

I want you to keep smiling at me. I want you to hold me. I want you to miss me. I want you to want me. 

Because I still want you. 

…

I want to give you a second chance, Minho. If things could be different this time, if we could be different. If we could share ourselves, wholeheartedly, as lovers, and not strangers.

I want to fall in love with you again, Lee Minho. 

…

Call me back, when you get the chance. You can keep the shirts for now.

Just please, don’t make me regret this.

liked this work? want to let me know how i did? please like, comment, and/or reblog; they are greatly appreciated my asks are always open ♡

taglist: @linospuddin @linocz @spicyhyunn

ending note: I hope this didn't disappoint. I really tried my best to make it work with all the angst in here :D. I also tried incorporating parallels from Missed Call so hopefully that wasn't too annoying or anything <3

[silentsneezes]

MLM jay/vik sickfic! it’s around 2k words, there are brief mentions of mess/spray but nothing excessive

i appreciate any feedback or comments! it’s my first time writing these characters, so if they’re out of character at all please lmk- i won’t take any offense to it :)

there are no spoilers, it’s set sometime in act 1

anyways, i hope someone enjoys:

Between their time in the lab and their developing “partnership”, Jayce and Viktor spend a significant amount of their time together. Being in such close proximity with one another means noticing the little details. Details which are admittedly insignificant, but still catch Viktor’s attention. He’s become accustomed to their unspoken but persistent routine in the lab: Jayce arrives around 8 AM, hangs up his coat, exchanges pleasantries with Viktor, and begins his work.

But today was different. Viktor didn’t hear the same habitual click of the coat rack as Jayce deposited his jacket, nor did he receive his “good morning Viktor” upon Jayce’s entry.

‘Unusual, yes, but people can have bad days’ Viktor reasons, biting his tongue as Jayce sits wordlessly at his desk.

After a painstakingly unproductive hour of work, Viktor grows tired of stealing glances at Jayce. It’s been taking every ounce of patience for him not to say something as his clearly sick partner tries not to pass out at his desk. Viktor’s fingers tap soundlessly along his workspace as he watches Jayce’s head stoop down with fatigue.

“Rough night?” Viktor breaks the silence, offering Jayce a sympathetic expression. Jayce’s posture straightens a little, and he shakes his head dismissively, “Jusd behind on sleeb.”

Viktor only nods in response, taking note of the congested, nasally quality of Jayce’s voice.

Viktor turns back to his journal, but his mind remains on his lab partner. His attempts to focus only become more futile as he hears a quiet sniffle behind him.

Unable to help himself, Viktor chances a look back at Jayce, swallowing as he catches the sick man rubbing his nose with a knuckle roughly.

The next thirty minutes pass in a quiet, but tense haze. Neither man completes any work, both preoccupied over Jayce’s illness: Jayce is too busy trying not to cough or sniffle too loudly, and Viktor is too busy trying not to fawn over his sick companion.

Viktor shifts in his seat as he hears a quiet, but distinct “hh-“ from Jayce. He tenses, his ears straining as he watches Jayce from the corner of his eye.

“hehh-“

Viktor purses his lips as Jayce’s breath hitches again, his expression hazy.

“hhHZZDSCHhew!” Jayce doubles over as a wet sneeze tears through him. His cupped hands do a poor job of muffling the sound, but they do manage to catch the spray.

Viktor’s heart hammers in his chest, his stomach swirling with arousal as Jayce lowers his hands from his face.

“Excuse mbe,” Jayce murmurs politely, snapping Viktor out of his haze.

Viktor’s slim fingers fish into his vest pocket, retrieving a silk handkerchief, “it seems like you need this more than I do,” he comments as he moves across the lab, leaning against his crutch for support as offers the handkerchief to Jayce. The silk almost looks illuminated in Viktor’s hands, his slim fingers holding the fabric with indescribable ease.

Jayce hesitates before accepting the handkerchief; realistically, it’s only a matter of time before he’ll need it. “Thanks.” Jayce can’t help but feel a flicker of disappointment as Viktor lowers his hand, wishing it had remained outstretched– he misses the closeness already.

“Don’t mention it,” Viktor dismisses lightly. His eyes linger on Jayce’s face, meeting his gaze in an uncomfortable silence.

Jayce breaks first, sighing and admitting “Look… I don’t wand you gedding sigk-”

Jayce pauses, the word “sicker” lingering on his tongue with a bitter sting. Viktor notices his falter, letting out a quiet sigh and pinching the bridge of his nose. Neither of them need to say anything, they both know the stress Jayce feels over Viktor’s health, the responsibility he feels to take care of and protect his loved ones.

“For once in your life, rest, and stop worrying over someone else,” Viktor says, a softness to his voice intermixed with the hurt from Jayce’s unsaid quip, “Besides, I’m better equipped to handle undercity illnesses than you are.”

Jayce rubs his nose roughly with a knuckle as an itch blooms in his sinuses, “no need to rub it in.”

Viktor grins, “even ill, you feel the need to bicker,” he taunts lightly, placing a gentle hand on Jayce’s shoulder. He watches as Jayce’s eyebrows knit together, his shoulders tensing as he draws in a desperate, “hhH-“ before pitching to the side, “hhHG’ZZSXhh!”

Viktor’s stomach pools with heat as he watches the spray settle on Jayce’s forearm.

“Bless you,” Viktor murmurs, his accent thicker as he forces himself to speak through his arousal. He tries to focus on anything but the sound of Jayce’s sneeze, which plays on repeat in his mind.

Jayce buries his nose in the handkerchief, giving it a soft but productive blow.

“I assume you haven’t taken anything for this… cold of yours” Viktor questions as he takes the seat next to Jayce. It doesn’t take a genius to notice the strain it takes for Viktor to lower himself into the seat, his legs shaking with painful instability.

Jayce places a hand on Viktor’s knee, his gaze softening as he rubs his thumb along Viktor’s pant leg gently.

“You didn’t answer my question,” Viktor prompts, his heartbeat quickening as the touch of Jayce’s warmth settles against his knee.

“No, I haven’t taken anything,” Jayce admits with a huff, earning a slight smirk from Viktor.

“You know, your ego won’t suffice in fighting illness. You need medicine too.”

“Ha-ha,” Jayce enunciates sarcastically as he rolls his eyes. A slight smile tugs at his lips; he may feel like shit, but it's easy to feel content in Viktor’s presence.

—-

Over the next few hours, it becomes increasingly evident that Jayce is no match for undercity illnesses. After treading carefully around the subject for a painfully long time, Viktor finally pushes Jayce to admit how shitty he feels; although the admission is more credited to Jayce’s rising fever than Viktor’s prompting— his feverish haze has left him uncharacteristically docile and clumsy.

Jayce has always had a gentler side hidden beneath the councilmember persona he created. Although at the moment, ‘pathetic’ might be a more accurate adjective to describe the sick man. His skin is coated with a thin sheen of sweat, his clothes sticking to his uncomfortably hot body. His nose is raw and red after hours of being pestered.

The once soft handkerchief is stuffed in Jayce’s jacket pocket, sodden and overused. Viktor sits beside Jayce at his desk, cautiously resting a hand on the small of the sick man’s back.

“You should rest,” Viktor prompts simply, his fingers trailing little circles along Jayce’s back.

“We need to figure out how to control the hex core,” Jayce mutters in response, his head in his hands as he tries to think coherently, which is proving to be impossible in his feverish state.

“And we will, in time,” Viktor assures him as he gently massages Jayce’s shoulders with a hand, his fingers pressing into the knots with ease. A smile tugs at his lips as he manages to elicit a soft, contented breath from Jayce.

Viktor freezes as he feels Jayce’s shoulders tense with a sudden, “hh-“. His hand remains on Jayce’s back, feeling his body shudder slightly as his breath hitches, “I’m ghhh-gonna- sn-hheh-“

Viktor’s chest tightens with arousal, his stomach filling with heat as Jayce’s voice intermixes with the desperate hitching.

In his fever haze and busy with the pretense of not sneezing directly on Viktor, Jayce completely forgets about the handkerchief in his pocket. He snaps to the side, spraying the air with a harsh, “hhHRZSXCHhew!”

A moment passes before a second sneeze follows, spraying Jayce’s hand as it hovers halfheartedly in front of his nose, “hhHDTSZCHh!”

Viktor swallows, his arousal only heightening as Jayce sniffles liquidly, mumbling, “bless me.”

Viktor’s mind reels as he tries to formulate a coherent thought, his brain short circuiting as Jayce blesses himself. After a moment, he clears his throat, “the handkerchief might prove more sanitary than your hand,” comes out of his mouth without second thought.

Jayce’s cheeks flush pink, suddenly realizing how disgusted Viktor must be with him, “Right, sorry.”

“Don’t be,” Viktor dismisses quickly, his eyes trained on Jayce’s nose as he presses the silk handkerchief to his septum.

The silk’s contact with Jayce’s nose seems to be a mistake, only bothering the itchy appendage further. With the handkerchief held haphazardly under his nose, Jayce snaps forwards, “hhDT’GDSXHchew!”

Viktor swallows as he feels Jayce’s shoulders shudder with the expulsion, his fingers still tracing gentle patterns along his sick partner’s back, “Bless you.”

“Thangks,” Jayce mumbles, his voice thick with congestion.

“You need to rest, Jayce,” Viktor tries again, although part of him longs for Jayce to stay in the lab. An admittedly selfish longing, yes, but he can’t ignore the persistent, adamant desire to be in Jayce’s company while he’s ill.

“I’ve dealt with worse, and our problems aren’t going to solve themselves,” Jayce says in response, his voice catching in his throat with a phlegmy crackle. He swallows, trying to keep any semblance of control he can as his body revolts against him.

“Stubborn,” Viktor tuts, his hand resting on Jayce’s shoulder again. Jayce’s lips curl into a slight smile at Viktor’s taunt, his glassy eyes doing their best to focus on Viktor’s face, “you’re one to talk.”

Viktor is about to reply when Jayce holds up a finger as a silent ‘hold on’, his face contorting into an itchy expression as he takes in a desperate “hhHHh-“

Jayce tucks his nose into his shoulder, his upper body shuddering forwards with the force of the sneeze, “hhHZZDXCHhh!”

Viktor blinks, his heart racing as he mutters a quick, “gezhuentiet.”

Jayce keeps his head tucked against his shoulder for a moment before he straightens up, his movements slowed. His ears ring as the beginnings of a headache bloom behind his eyes.

Viktor sighs, rubbing his thumb along Jayce’s shoulder gently as he says, “understanding your body's needs is an essential skill in succeeding as a counselor. You can’t help anyone if you can barely function.”

Jayce looks at Viktor with a tired expression, “‘barely function’ is a bit overdramatic, no?” he murmurs lightly, offering Viktor a little smile, “but you’re right.”

“I am?” Viktor speaks without intending to, shocked that he finally made progress in breaking down Jayce’s walls. His blunder earns a smile from Jayce, “you are. I’m not helping by sitting here and exposing you to whatever it is I have.”

“So you agree to rest?” Viktor asks, his eyes scanning Jayce’s face for any idiosyncrasies that might suggest he’s lying.

“Yes,” Jayce admits, running a hand through his hair before reaching down to rub his nose. Viktor smiles, feeling an odd sense of pride at having persuaded Jayce to take a break.

“Good.” Viktor stands, propping himself upright with his crutch before holding a hand out for Jayce, “Come on.”

Jayce’s haze lingers on Viktor’s outstretched hand, a rush of warmth blooming in his chest at the affectionate gesture. He stands up with the assistance of Viktor’s hand, though he avoids putting too much of his weight on Viktor.

Viktor starts leading Jayce towards the exit, but Jayce steers himself towards the cot in the corner of the lab instead.

“Jayce-“ Viktor starts, but he’s interrupted before he can get too far.

“I want to stay here,” Jayce says, and Viktor finds himself unable to argue. Even glassy and feverish, Jayce’s eyes always implore Viktor to listen to him, however foolish he might be.

Viktor doesn’t have the time to reply as Jayce plants himself on the cot, slipping off his shoes. After a moment of hesitation, Viktor leans forwards to pull the blanket over Jayce’s torso. It’s small and frayed, but it suffices.

It’s not long before Jayce’s congested snores sound through the lab, reminding Viktor of the sick man’s presence. To some, it might be irritating, but Viktor rather enjoys the sound as he works.

sorry for any grammatical or spelling errors i might’ve missed in my editing!

i hope i did jay/vik justice. if anyone has prompts, suggestions, comments or whatever feel free to reach out to me!

[kikyoupdates]

Changing Plotlines ⭑˚💞⭑ 𝑎 𝑙𝑖𝑣𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑚𝑖𝑟𝑎𝑐𝑙𝑒

yandere!ocs x f!reader

yandere, reverse harem, yandere reverse harem, original characters x fem!reader, slowburn, isekai

A desperate cry on your deathbed leads to you being given a fresh start at life. You're overjoyed at having finally obtained a healthy body and a real chance at living normally, only to discover that you've been transported into a yandere game, where danger lurks at every corner. Determined to protect your new life at any cost, you vow to stay as far away from the major characters of the game as possible. But things don't always go as planned.

prologue | story masterlist | next

You woke up with a gasp, only to find yourself in an unfamiliar room.

Where am I?

It took you a while to come to your senses. You remembered dying, all too vividly at that, but a quick glance around affirmed that you were no longer in your hospital room. Either you were stuck in some strange dream in the afterlife, or this was heaven.

You were lying in a bed, much like you’d been when you died. Strangely enough, you still had a material body. It was easy enough to move through instinct, just like you’d done all your life.

You stepped off the bed, and to your immense delight, your body felt the best it had in a long time. No pain, no relentless fatigue. It was as if you were brand new. Surely, this must be heaven. Although it was quite a bit different than you’d been expecting. You always assumed heaven would be more of a spiritual realm that was intangible and completely separate from the material world, but it didn’t seem to be the case at all.

Speaking of material, the room you were currently in was rather extravagant. The room itself was huge, but there were so many expensive-looking objects lying around as well, not to mention the intricate architecture. It was the way you always imagined the highest of the elite—the ultra-rich—living.

Also... for some reason, everything looked weirdly antique? It was tastefully decorated, that was a given, but none of the objects were particularly modern. Not like what you were used to, at least.

But before you could delve into things any deeper, a stranger came into the room. It was a woman, dressed as a maid for some reason. She stopped to curtsy in front of you and greeted you with a smile.

“Good morning, Lady [Name]. I’m quite pleased that you managed to wake up on time for a change.”

“Uh, who are you?” you blinked. “Are you also dead? Is this really heaven?”

The maid gaped at you. “My lady, I daresay it’s far too early for this kind of talk. You know I’m terrible at understanding your jokes.”

Okay, this is a bit weird. Since when are there maids in heaven?

Everything was still rather confusing, so you glanced around the room and spotted a mirror, which you eagerly bounded up to. You were curious to see if you even looked like yourself any more. Perhaps people’s souls inhabited different bodies in heaven, or something like that.

“Damn, I’m gorgeous!” you exclaimed. You did still look like yourself, but you couldn't remember having ever looked so healthy before. You were practically glowing.

The maid chuckled softly. “Yes, my lady. You are the flower of the kingdom. You’ll always be the prettiest lady in my eyes.”

“Kingdom?” you frowned. “I thought this was heaven.”

“Again with the strange jokes...”

She sighed and shook her head, looking just about fed up with your nonsense.  Nothing was really making any sense. Every time you brought up dying or being in heaven, she kept giving you all sorts of judgmental looks. If this wasn’t heaven, then where were you?

“Are my parents here?” you asked. It couldn’t be possible. You’d died, and even if you were in some sort of strange afterlife, there was no way your parents would be with you. Not yet, at least.

The maid cocked her head to the side. “By here, do you mean inside the manor? Of course they are. Why, would you like me to bring them to your room?”

“Uh, yes please.”

She nodded hastily and left the room, only to return with two awfully familiar people by her side.

Yep. They were your parents, alright. But how? And why didn’t they look surprised to see you, even though you should be dead right now?

“Mom, dad,” you spluttered, rushing towards them. “How am I here? Didn’t I die? The last thing I remember is being in the hospital bed...”

Just like the maid, they too stared at you in bewilderment.

“She’s been talking this nonsense ever since she woke up,” the maid said tiredly. “I’m assuming it’s meant to be some sort of roleplay, but I’m having a great deal of trouble following along.”

“Oh, [Name], you’re ever the joker,” your parents laughed. “Of all the stories to contrive, why would you make up some ridiculous tale about being in the hospital? You’ve always been healthy as a horse. This is a stretch, even for you.”

“Healthy as a horse,” you gaped. “Me?”

“Yes, of course. Did you not sleep well, my dear? You’re obviously kidding, but the expression on your face is oddly serious.”

Things were getting more perplexing by the second, but you needed to try and reassess your situation and not give anyone reason to believe that you were absolutely mental.

You knew for a fact that you’d been chronically ill for a very long time. The pain and suffering you’d experienced was altogether too vivid to forget. But for whatever reason, after passing out in the hospital that day—when you were certain you’d died—you seem to have woken up here instead. Where exactly here was, you had yet to find out, but you were fairly certain about one thing, and it was that you weren’t actually dead.

I’ve been transported somewhere else?

It seemed too farfetched to be true, but everything felt so real. It couldn’t simply be a vivid dream. Your memories and your senses were completely intact. You had full awareness of what you were thinking and doing. You weren’t in the hospital anymore, neither were your parents, and the longer you stared at them, you came to realize that their attire was completely unlike anything they would have ever worn. It was just like the room you were in—the opposite of modern.

Okay. You really needed to figure out what the hell was going on.

“I’m gonna walk around,” you announced abruptly.

“My lady, you can’t!” the maid called out after you. “You’re still in your nightgown—”

You sped out the room before she could keep you from leaving. Clearly, the bedroom was no exception, because the hallways and the rest of the building appeared to be just as extravagantly decorated. What did the maid call it again? Ah, right—a manor. Your first assumption was right. This place was for the filthy rich, which begged the question of what you were doing here.

You spent a good while walking around. There were other maids and servants working here, it appeared, and they all averted their gazes when they saw you passing by. Probably because you were in your nightgown, though you didn’t really get what the big deal was. It was hardly anything indecent.

As you took in your surroundings, you noted that there wasn’t any sign of the technology you’d been surrounded with your entire life. Everything was tasteful and aesthetically pleasing, but it didn’t seem like the type of stuff a normal person would keep around in their house. It just wasn’t practical. But the fact that there was no technology at all, coupled with the antique feel of the place, made you feel like it wasn’t just a personal preference. Rather, it didn’t seem like there was any technology to make use of.

So, not only did you not die that day, but you seemed to have woken up in a completely different time period. How the fuck?

“I can’t believe this is actually happening,” you mumbled in bewilderment. “Sure, the isekai trope is super common in media, but I never thought it could be real. So, this is like reincarnation? Except I’ve been reincarnated as... myself. In the past, no less.”

It was only then that you vaguely recalled that strange voice in your head back when you were dying in the hospital bed. At the time, you’d been so desperate to stay alive that you said you were willing to do anything. Had some higher deity actually heard you and answered your calls by giving you a new chance at life? If so, that was...

“Fucking epic!” you cried out, fist-pumping the air. “I’m actually alive, and I’m healthy! And apparently rich too? This is awesome!”

You didn’t care if this really was all a dream. At this point, you’d take even an extremely vivid dream if it meant you could experience life as a normal, able-bodied person. There was no point in questioning too much and feeling panicked over this situation. It was your new reality, and already much better than what you’d had to endure in the past.

Feeling immensely grateful and much more at ease about the whole thing, you decided to familiarize yourself with your new environment and get your bearings while you were at it.

During that time, you managed to acquire some information without coming across as too suspicious (you hoped).

Firstly, you were apparently the daughter of nobles. Your father was a baron, and your mother, his baroness. From what you could recall in your high school history classes, as far as nobles went, it was one of the lowest ranks. But who really cared about all that petty nonsense when you were clearly wealthier than you ever needed and could live out a happy life?

Secondly, apart from your vastly improved health, everything else seemed to be mostly the same as in your previous life. You still looked to be about twenty years old, your parents still had the same personalities—apart from acting a bit more formally according to their positions—and it didn’t seem as though anyone realized you were acting that much differently than normal, which meant that the “you” of this universe was still, well, you—just in a different timeline.

You didn’t get reincarnated and put into some stranger’s body. You’d literally gotten a fresh start to properly enjoy the rest of your life, which was better than you could have ever asked for. The only thing that would have been more ideal was somehow making a miraculous recovery back in your original timeline, but even modern science had failed to save you.

One way or another, you’d avoided death. Sure, it would probably take a bit of getting used to not having convenient devices like phones and computers, but if it meant that you could finally be healthy and happy, it was truly a small price to pay.

And lastly, but certainly not least, you were now free to do all the things you couldn’t do before.

What came to your mind right away was taking the time to enjoy your new, healthy body. You did so by running around in the grass in the courtyard—yes, you had a courtyard. It was so incredibly blissful and cathartic that it almost couldn’t be put into the words. The sensation of the fresh air filling your lungs and the sunlight warming your cheeks... it was enough to bring tears to your eyes. You kept running and running, still with plenty of stamina left over. It must’ve been years since you’d been able to run like this.

“Oh, Lady [Name],” the maid called out to you with a weary expression. Her name, from what you’d gathered, was Lizbell, and it seemed that she was your personal maid, based on how she kept following you around all over the place. “I’m glad that you seem to be in very high spirits, but you really shouldn’t be running outside like that in your nightgown. Come, at least change into some comfortable clothing first.”

You looked back over your shoulder, grinning widely. “Sorry! I just can’t help it. I’ve got so much energy, I don’t know what to do with it!”

“That’s very nice. But do you mind changing out of the nightgown? A young lady like you shouldn’t be seen in such a state of undress.”

“Eh, maybe later. I’m gonna run some more now!”

“No, wait—!”

It was clear that she was getting exasperated with your antics, but you were far too excited to feel bad about it. Never in a million years could you have imagined your frantic plea for a new chance at life actually being answered. For once, the universe was smiling down upon you.

You stayed out for a while longer, up until you started to reach the end of your energy reserves. Sure, you had a nice healthy body now, but it wasn’t as if you were superhuman. Now that you had been blessed with such a constitution, you were going to do your damn best not to squander it, especially since you found yourself in an age of far less advanced medicinal practices.

After running around, you were pleased to find that a big, hearty breakfast had been prepared for you. The sight alone had you salivating. Everything looked so good. Back in your previous world, you’d been kept on a strict, bland diet due to your weak immunity. Having the chance to eat delicious food without any consequences really was a miracle.

“Dis ish sho good,” you half-sobbed, stuffing your face without caring how unappealing you looked at the moment.

Once again, Lizbell let out a sigh. “Good heavens... I know you enjoy your food, but there’s no need to devour it like that. Were you really that famished? Please take it slow. Your meal isn’t going anywhere.”

Obviously, you couldn’t tell her that it had been years since you’d eaten anything as palatable as this. Actually, had you ever eaten something so delicious? This meal had clearly been prepared by the well-trained chefs working in the manor. It was probably the equivalent of a fancy gourmet meal, and you’d certainly never had one of those before.

You’d really struck gold here, that was for sure.

Breakfast was incredible, and better yet, you didn’t feel sick after consuming it. You stood up from the dining table, stretched out your arms, and sighed happily. This was almost too good to be true. And being placed in a different time setting was amazing in its own respect. This was basically like time travelling, getting to experience all sorts of unique things from the past.

Still, it would probably be best to find out a bit more about where exactly I am.

Funnily enough, right as you had that thought, your parents walked into the room.

“[Name],” they beamed. “Good, you’ve finished breakfast. A bit later than usual, since you ran around for so long. You’ve woken up with quite a bit of energy today, hm?”

“Oh, you don’t know the half of it,” you laughed.

“Well, now that you’ve eaten, would you like to go into town together with us? We can enjoy a nice walk, and we were hoping to stop by the tailor to get some new clothes fitted anyhow. If you come with us, you’re free to pick out whatever trinkets you like.”

Bless your parents. No matter the time or place, they were still as lovely as ever. This was good for them, too. At least here in this world, they wouldn’t have to live on mourning your death.

“Okay!” you beamed. “I’ll come with.”

And so, you took a trip in a carriage all the way into town. The carriage ride was a bit bumpy and uncomfortable, but a new experience in its own right. Cars were easily more convenient, but again—you would trade all of that in a heartbeat for your new body.

The town was certainly bustling, alright. Unlike in a modern setting, there were probably a limited number of places where so many people would gather and buy or sell things. But all of it was rather refreshing. Back in your previous life, you were used to seeing people travel around in a hurry, irritated by their long shifts at work and eager to get home already. People back there were used to working themselves half to death, but here, everything seemed to move at a much slower pace, and people actually looked like they were enjoying their lives.

Science and technology certainly made things more convenient, but none of that really guarantees happiness, huh?

You could definitely get used to this. A novel setting, a healthy body, and countess possibilities.

Clearly, you were quite distracted by all the new sights, because you accidentally bumped into someone on the street.

“Oops,” you blinked. “Sorry about that. I wasn’t looking where I was going.”

You turned towards a man with a very handsome face. As in, supermodel handsome. He had raven black hair and yellow, snake-like eyes. And those eyes were currently glaring a hole into you.

“Can’t you pay attention?” he snapped. “You’ve gotten dust on my coat.” He proceeded to gesture towards the coat in question, as if there was some sort of damage there that was visible to the naked eye.

He had a rather nasty attitude, which pissed you off. You weren’t going to stand for this when you’d been enjoying one of the happiest days you’d had in a very long time.

Right as you were about to give him a piece of your mind, you heard your parents gasp beside you.

“Please excuse her, Lord Cassius. She tends to get distracted quite easily, that’s all.”

The man, Cassius, by the sounds of it, merely scoffed at you, then walked away. You could hardly believe the nerve of him, not to mention the dramatics. As if bumping into someone ever ruined a person’s clothing.

But for some reason, you were getting a strange feeling. It almost felt like you’d seen him somewhere before, and even his name was giving you a weird sense of déjà vu.

“That guy sure seemed like a dick,” you remarked aloud.

Your mother immediately jabbed you in the ribs. “Language!” she hissed. “You’re just lucky he didn’t stir up any more of a fuss. He’s always so temperamental. Thankfully, we seem to have caught him in a good mood.”

“That was his good mood? Who is he, anyways?”

They both stared at you in disbelief. “You know... all of today, you’ve been acting rather strange. You’ve heard of Cassius Crowe countless times by now. He’s practically famous around the academy. Haven’t you ever spotted him on campus before?”

You’d been so caught up in everything that you’d forgotten to pretend like you had any memories of this place prior to today, but that was hardly important right now, because a weird sense of dread was gradually washing over you.

Cassius Crowe... it can’t be.

“The academy,” you swallowed, no longer caring how suspicious you came cross. “The academy I attend?”

“Yes,” they frowned. “Of course. You were very insistent on enrolling, and it had to be at Zodite’s finest institution. [Name], you’re really starting to concern us now. Have you hit your head? Are you suffering from some sort of memory loss? If it’s serious, please don’t hide it from us. We’ll call a doctor right away and have them check on you.”

They kept rambling on, clearly worried that something might actually be wrong with you, but you weren’t listening at all anymore.

What they’d just said had finally helped you put all the pieces together. Cassius Crowe, and Zodite. Zodite Kingdom, from Zodin’s Benevolence, the most recent dating sim you’d played. You hadn’t been reincarnated into the past, or even into some alternate universe.

You’d been transported into the world of a yandere game. 

More chapters are available on Quotev!

⊱.⋅follow + post notifications on for story update announcements or join the author's discord!⋅.⊰

💞 main masterlist ♡ character appearances

[onlyangel4]

life of pain. LL30. final part. smau + written.

liam lawson x chronically ill reader

reader has dealt with pain for as long as she can remember but what she did not respect was for her pain to be the reason she met her soulmate.

author's note: i shall be writing this from experience so reader suffers from elher's danlos syndrome, chronic pain syndrome and chronic fatigue syndrome. but if you have a different chronic illness please do imagine it as that

faceclaim: kristine froseth

part one

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sleeping most of the day helped you greatly, you were able to get all that rest that you truly desired and your joints ached a lot less when you woke up from your second nap of the day. you flicked your phone all and checked the time. shit, liam was going to be at your hotel within an hour.

you reluctantly peeled the bedsheets back and climbed out of the warm abyss and began digging through your suitcase but nothing seemed good enough. you were about to have a racing driver in your room, you needed to look good, but you had never been really good at this shit. so you quickly grabbed your phone a face timed your best friend.

to say that she was shocked to find out you were going to be hanging out with one of the drivers was a little bit of an understatement "holy fucking shit y/n, how do you always get yourself in these situations", you just laughed her off and you guys go to work on picking an outfit that screamed casual, i did not try too hard while also not looking lazy. and once you had finally done that and promised your best friend she was going to get the full run down on your time with liam you hung up and began cleaning the room ready for him to come over.

y/ninsta posted a story

written: today's fit

once your hotel room was finally to your liking you took a moment to breathe. it was difficult to wrap your head around what was about to happen. in mere moments a f1 driver was going to be in your hotel room to just hang.

growing up you watched f1 every race weekend with your father, it was one of the main things that you were able to bond on. you would set up the tv in your hospital room after surgeries just so you could watch it together but as you got older and moved out of your family home. you kind of just stopped watching. yes you kept up with the teams just so you could talk to your father about it on your weekly phone calls but you were no longer the little super fan that you had been.

being able to surprise your father with paddock tickets was a way for you to force yourself back into the world of formula one, you knew that after seeing a race in person you would be hooked for good, who knew that you were also going to get to spend some personal time with one of the drivers.

you had been so caught up in your thoughts that you had not heard the first knock at the door, but the second one pulled you from your whirlwind of thoughts, "coming", you called out taking one last look in the mirror before going to the door, a smile plastered on your lips.

as the door opened you were met with liam standing there, he had two bags in his arms and he returned your smile. "hey y/n", he spoke as he walked inside.

"so i brought you a burger and some fries, i hope you like it", he spoke and you smiled at his thoughtfulness

"you already know me too well mister lawson", you teased playfully as he handed you the bag of food.

liam explained that he was on his race weekend meal plan so he was unable to partake in the fast food and instead pulled out a carefully curated meal that had been made for him. you both took a seat on the floor of your hotel room and just ate and spoke. it was really nice, liam was refreshing. yes he talked about racing and his life but he was more interested in wanting to get to know about you and what your life was like. as you spoke about your family and friends, you caught liam looking at you like you were the only person in the world. it was enough to make your heart jump in your chest and cause you to stumble over a few of your words but you powered on.

it unsurprising that you and liam both caught up in each other's company it was only when liam's watch buzzed to alert him that he had a meeting in fifteen minutes that you realised you had been sat yapping for over an hour.

"you have no idea how much i want to skip this meeting right now, but i think i'll lose my seat", liam spoke making you laugh as you stood up to walk to the door.

"it was lovely talking to you y/n, i'm glad you are feeling a bit better. i for one am really looking forward to seeing you tomorrow.", he spoke softly, "and maybe carry on seeing you after the race", he spoke carefully as if he was testing the water between you.

your cheeks flushed softly at the thought of continuing seeing him after this whirlwind of a weekend, "I would like that liam", you spoke softly.

that was when liam reached down and took the unbranded baseball cap off your head putting it on the ground, he removed the rb hat from his head and gently placed it on your head, "much better", he whispered lowly before pressing a soft kiss to your lips. one that you quickly reciprocated. it was gentle and loving as if you had forever.

"goodnight liam", you whispered softly when he pulled away.

"goodnight darling", he spoke before making his way down the hall leaving you to shut the door behind him smiling like the cheshire cat.

y/ninsta posted a story tagging liamlawson

written: someone hustled us garage tickets

y/ninsta posted a story

written: all celebrations in the rb garage DOUBLE POINTS BABY!!

liamlawson

liked by y/ninsta, oscarpiastri, alexalbon and 638,283 others

liamlawson: finally relaxing after a whirlwind of a season

view all 23,485 comments

user1: A SOFT LAUNCH

alexalbon: does the baby finally have a girlfriend

liamlawson: finally

user2: really was not expecting a soft launch from liam, he has not be pictured with any girls at all

oscarpiastri: idc about you, what is the dog called

liamlawson: glad you have your priorities straight mate that is marshmallow

y/ninsta

liked by liamlawson, y/bff, user3 and 643 others

y/ninsta: life lately

view all 23 comments

y/bff: a man???!!1

y/ninsta: babe you have met my man let's not act surprised

friend1: pretty girlll

liamlawson: the prettiest

user3: i was stalking to try and find liam's new girlfriend and i swear i saw him comment here

y/ninsta: who is liam, i don't know anyone called liam

liamlawson posted a story

written: as someone who loves somebody that has a chronic illness i wanted to highlight chronic illness visibility day. people living with these conditions are warriors and we as a society need to treat them as such, please just be empathetic to the strong people in your life that suffer every single day.

liamlawson

liked by y/ninsta, lilymhe, alexalbon and 728,371 others

tagged: y/ninsta

liamlawson: obsessed with you

view all 34,283 comments

y/ninsta: i am so in love with you

liamlawson: i love you more pretty girl

user4: not liam hard launching on a random wednesday

user5: i just stalked her and she has the same medical condition as me, i feel so seen

user6: she seems so down to earth and normal, i love her already

alexalbon: so does this mean i can meet marshmallow this season

liamlawson: yes, yes it does

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[kookieskookiejar]

Alpha! Jeongguk x Omega! Reader

This is a part two of Don't Blame Me, but can be read as a standalone as well :))

Synopsis:

It's been two years since you've moved in with Jeongguk, and since then, the global tour your dance academy was on has since ended long ago, allowing you to have more time to spend with your boyfriend. However, Jeongguk still feels like the two of you have been going around in circles in terms of where your relationship is at. Should Jeongguk make a move to ask you about it? Or is he just being worried for no reason and should just let the relationship grow at its own pace?

Warnings: unprotected s*x, upcoming rut mating, marking, knotting, bre*ding k*nk, really fluffy.

A/N: sorry this took soooo long, mental health has not been looking good lately so...yeah, I hope you guys like this!

Everyday Jeongguk wakes up feeling like the luckiest man in the universe, he can’t believe it’s been two years since you’ve moved in with him.

Your job hasn’t gotten any less busy, and Jeongguk respects that, he’s gotten busier lately too, and recently he just wrapped up a long term project, and now they’re out to celebrate with his friends, and that consists of you, his sister, Jihyo, his Namjoon hyung, and his girlfriend of two years now, yes, the resident third wheeler of the friend group is finally dating, Jihyo’s still doesn’t want to settle down yet, and that’s perfectly fine, in Jeongguk’s opinion, she needs some growing up to do before she sends someone to therapy.

To put things in perspective, he feels like everyone around him, other than his sister, have started the next chapter of their lives, okay maybe that’s a stretch, he’s just feeling a bit stagnant with you after hearing Namjoon talk about how he and his girlfriend are planning on getting a matching couple tattoo after sealing their mating mark.

Is it considered quick to seal the mating mark after two years? Maybe, but they are planning to get married next year, so it wasn’t a hasty decision, Jihyo even chastised them for making the decision only after two years, to which she deemed, too impulsive, so maybe two years is seen as hasty in this time and age, but that doesn’t make Jeongguk feel all that much better about the pace between you and him, not that he’d ever voice that out, he knows you want to take things slowly, you’ve always been a build the foundation type of person.

However, you and Jeongguk have been dating for four years now, and you haven’t brought up about the mating marks before, you did talk about it briefly, but it wasn’t even a serious conversation, although you sounded very much sincere.

So now Jeongguk’s sulking in the pub where all his friends are laughing about something they’re reading on Jihyo’s phone, absently, a pout is on his lips, and his hyung notices it immediately, snapping Jeongguk’s attention away from staring at the rustic decor of the pub.

“Hey, you’re tired, aren’t you? You haven’t been talking all that much tonight,” Namjoon points out, his brows furrowed, he’s always seen Jeongguk as his little brother, brothers from a different mother.

“Nah, I’m okay, I was just spacing out,” Jeongguk dismisses, finishing his drink.

“We can leave if you want,” you say, immediately, preparing to get up from your seat, grabbing your purse.

“Yah, he said he’s gonna buy us drinks with his bonus, don’t you try skimming out on us,” Jihyo complains, arms crossed.

“He’s tired, Jihyo ah, I’ll buy you drinks next time okay,” you promise with that sweet voice you use to get things out of both the siblings, something that Jeongguk can never say no to, to which his sister sighs, nodding begrudgingly.

“Be grateful she loves you, can’t believe my brother stole my best friend,” she says, obviously joking, and Jeongguk nods absentmindedly, letting you lead him out of the pub.

Jeongguk heads home to sleep off the fatigue, but it was probably due to his bad mood and the alcohol that made him sleepy.

When Jeongguk woke up the next morning, he was feeling hot, but it wasn’t out of the ordinary to him, it is summer after all, but what had him questioning was the fact that you were cooking breakfast in the kitchen instead of going for your morning run with Jihyo.

Jeongguk clambers out of bed, messy hair and everything, hurrying to wash up, eager to have your cooking as breakfast.

“Hey. you’re up earlier than expected,” you joke when Jeongguk wraps his arms around your waist, his nose buried in your neck, lips almost slobbering near where your mating mark should be.

“It’s 9.30, of course I’m up,” Jeongguk says with a whiny voice, you just love to tease him, says that he sounds and looks cute when you do, so he indulges you.

“I don’t know, I thought you’d be more tired when you’re near your rut.”

Jeongguk freezes up at your comment, he was so busy that he hadn’t even noticed his scent had some minor changes over time, and he doused himself in cologne last night, craving for the scent of fresh laundry over his natural scent, so that’s probably why his friends hadn’t noticed.

“I didn’t want to tell you because I know you’d tell me to sleepover at Jihyo’s,” you say, turning around to run your hands over Jeongguk’s arms comfortingly, the act so sweet, but it instantly has Jeongguk hard.

“But, we, what if I accidentally mark you? What if your heat gets triggered? Then we’d have to-

“Hey, I’m ready, and I’m ready to have our mating marks now, I think it’s time, if you think you’re ready,” you reassured, you know he’s wanted this for quite some time now, but you were nervous, it isn’t an easy decision, choosing to be connected to someone in the closest way possible.

“But you’ll go into heat a bit later, don’t you have any performances lined up?” Jeongguk asked, eyes darting to every corner of your face to make sure you weren’t doing this out of obligation.

“I called out of work once I realised you were going into rut, and I’m really ready, Jeongguk, unless you’re not,” you look at him quizzically, but both of you know there’s no malice behind your tone, and the slight bossiness of your tone is certainly waking him up in more ways than one.

“How long till the brownies are done?” Jeongguk asked with a fluttering heart, he loves your brownies, and making it for breakfast is weird, but you love how weird he is, and you actively indulge in his quirkiness.

“About 20 minutes, think you could make me cum before they’re done?” you ask with a challenging tone, quickly taking off your apron.

“You bet,” Jeongguk says before he wraps his arms around your thighs, carrying you back to the bedroom where he emerged from not too long ago.

Jeongguk throws you on the bed lightly, getting a giggle out of you at the bounciness of the bed.

“Let’s see if you’ll be laughing in a bit, baby,” Jeongguk teases before he captures your lips with his, his lips still taste minty fresh from brushing his teeth.

Jeongguk breaks off the kiss to take off his shirt, his abs looking like they’re sculpted by greek gods under the morning rays.

Jeongguk manhandles you onto his thighs, he’s not a horny teenage alpha who can’t control his urges, but he just enjoys the process of having your cute butt grinding on his clothed cock.

You got the message quickly, rotating your hips in circular motions, arousal dampening Jeongguk’s sweatpants once his length starts to grow under your ministrations, getting turned on by the fact that you’re the only one with this sort of power over him.

“I need you fuck me, Jeongguk, 20 minutes, remember?” you remind him after having caught a whiff of the scent of chocolate mixing with your scents.

“Yeah, sure, baby,” Jeongguk promises, tugging your shirt up to reveal your bare breasts, your nipples pebbling up from the cool air of your shared bedroom, the AC still lingering in the air after you turned it off before leaving the room, catching the attention of your boyfriend, who quickly envelopes the closest nipple he could get to, sucking diligently, his other hand occupying your other boob, twisting, sucking, and licking, your back arching off into his hold, his free hand’s fingers dipping into the curve of your back, he tightens his hold on you before he ceases all actions.

“Present yourself, baby,” Jeongguk says, his voice dropping into a lower octave, his eyes flashing red, he’s not using his alpha voice, Jeongguk would rather chop off his dick than force you into having sex with him, he just knows you get your panties drenched whenever you hear his ‘sexy voice’, as you often call it, which is why you’re quick to get into position, hands and knees on the bed with your ass perched high for Jeongguk’s taking.

Jeongguk mutters curses under his breath at the sight of you, your pretty pussy shining with arousal that flows down to your smooth thighs, Jeongguk is definitely a lucky man.

When he starts dipping his fingers into your core, you whine.

“Just put it in, Guk, I’m ready,” you complain with a whine as you wiggle your butt enticingly, and it worked like magic, his hands smacking one of your cheeks, that recoil is going to kill him.

Then you feel it, the blunt tip finally breaching your walls, if your heat hasn’t started, it definitely has, with the way you get wetter with every inch Jeongguk feeds you, your omega accommodating to your alpha naturally.

When Jeongguk finally sinks his entire length into you, your toes curl at the feeling of being full.

“Can I move, baby?” Jeongguk asks, he knows the two of you are in a time crunch, but he’d rather let his favourite dessert burn than hurt you in any way.

“Yeah you can move,” you say breathlessly, Jeongguk steals your breath away at any situation, whether it’s because he’s fresh out of the shower, dressed up for a date, or merely cooking, he looks flawless executing what he does, especially in bed.

Jeongguk starts off with shallow thrusts, biting on his lower lip at the way your walls hug him right back deeper at every movement.

When Jeongguk feels your walls finally accommodating his size, he increases the pace of his thrusts, groaning when he feels you clenching onto his length when he finally hits that sweet spot that has you whining and body coursing in pleasurable ecstasy, your back arching into his touch, the sight of your round ass catching his attention, smacking your ass, hands grasping for a bit before he lets go, choosing to make his way to your pretty little clit.

Jeongguk knows you’re close, it’s written in the way you’re gripping him in an almost death grip.

“Cum for me, baby, need you to drench this cock so I can pop my knot inside you, fill you up with pups,” Jeongguk says with a groan by your ear before he feels his knot swelling, the added girth pushes you over the edge, your body spasming as you feel your breath being knocked out of you.

Soon after, Jeongguk’s knot starts to deflate, gushes of cum spilling into your womb, and that feeling kick starts this carnal need inside you.

“Need you to mark me, Guk, I’m ready, ready to be your mate,” you confess, still clenching onto him.

Jeongguk halts his movements, but the jerk of his cock gives him away.

“Please, your omega needs you,” you plead, stretching your neck to reveal the tempting expanse of your neck.

“Baby, we should talk about this-

“No, please, I’ve thought about this for a long time now, I’m ready,” you reassured.

“O-okay,” Jeongguk finally agrees, his alpha growling in agreement.

Jeongguk continues on with shallow thrusts while he rubs your clit in quick circles when he finally bites down on your neck, sealing the two of you together, and you would’ve never imagined this feeling.

The feeling of a weight lifted off, your omega that used to feel so restless, now being a part of you and your alpha.

Jeongguk quickly laps up the wound, easing the healing process before he pulls you sideways, wrapping his arms around your figure.

You curl up next to him seamlessly, sighing in contentment.

“When we’re done eating the brownies and your heat strikes again, you have to promise to give me my mating mark too,” Jeongguk says with a slight whine to his voice, the alpha image dissolving right before your eyes.

You weren’t surprised he asked for his own mating mark, the last time you guys discussed about mating marks, he had insisted on you marking him.

“I promise, now hurry up and deflate your knot or my brownies are really going to burn,” you say with a huff.

“Hush, there’s still 9 minutes left, we can just waddle to the oven together,” Jeongguk teases, which earns him a playful slap on his butt that’s conveniently within reach.

You definitely won’t regret being Jeongguk’s mate.