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#That's the question I'm getting from writing this
inkyray · 3 days
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sick!matt x reader fluff 😛
a/n: i literally love writing a platonic reader n chris dynamic
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content ahead: sick!matt x reader, bae u a master chef in this, just pure cutesy fluff :P
TOO LATE
"You're joking." You say, holding your phone up to your ear as Nick's voice boomed through it. "I swear I'm not, he can't even like– walk on his own." Nick said, almost like he was complaining but he definitely wasn't, if anything he was worried for his brother Matt.
He called you to let you know just how bad Matt's sickness got, based on what he told you, Matt's body temperature was burning hot yet he was still freezing, he was cold and sweaty, his small strands of hair sticking to his forehead. Apparently it was a struggle for him to even head to the bathroom, almost falling over with how weak his body had gotten. "Whatever he's got, it's definitely worse than fever." Nick sighs as you hold your phone with your cheek and shoulder, putting on your shoes.
"I'm coming over, I'm bringing medicine and a few ingredients. I'll make him some soup, hopefully it'll help." You assure, tying your shoelaces. Nick sighs in relief, "Thank fuck. I knew you'd be help. I'm like, so glad Matt came to his senses and asked you to be his girlfriend. If he hadn't done it sooner I would've asked you to marry me by then." You brightly laugh at his words, grabbing for your keys.
"Okay, I'll be over in a few minutes."
-
It was a lot worse than you thought.
The moment you entered his room, it was warm with unnatural heat and he was clearly tangled under all his pillows. You approached the side he was laying in, bending down to his level, your knees on the floor as your hands immediately tangled in his hair, moving it to the side so you could see his eyes better. "Matt." You mutter, your voice low and soft, unsure if he's asleep or not. His eyes flutter open to the sound of your voice, looking up at you lazily, beyond glad that you were here. He utters your name, his voice husky and thick. You immediately lean forward to peck him on the lips. "How are you feeling?" You question
He frowns, as if his sickness has been draining both physically and mentally. "Horrible. So so bad." Matt's eyes look like they were exhausted, rimmed with pink. You scowled, feeling beyond bad for your boyfriend. "Okay, I brought you medicine. Sit up for me, baby?" You ask him, your voice immediately soothing through his migraine like honey.
You turn to the bag you brought, skimming through it as you grab the right antibiotic. Matt takes long seconds to build up the courage to sit up, knowing how much physical energy it would take from him. When you turn your head back to him, he finally uses his elbows to sit up, his blanket slipping from off his chest, a hot breeze hitting you in the face.
A small comforting grin rests on your lips, and Matt curves his lips up lazily and crookedly, his mood feeling the most better at the sight of you. Handing him the pills to his palm, you grab the water bottle by his bed. 
With the pills finding their way to his mouth, you hold the water bottle up to his mouth. He takes large gulps from the bottle, depending on you to hold it for him. He pulls his head away, deciding that was enough for him after swallowing the medicine, visibly wincing, lifting a hand to touch his adam's apple. You understand that he had a bad case of a sore throat, and you get up. Matt's eyes follow you up. "Have you eaten yet?" You question, and he drops his gaze, shaking his head. You sigh.
"I thought as much."
"I'm sorry." He apologized with a harsh and croaky voice. You melt right then and there. "No, no. Matt, hon, it's okay." You offer a breathy chuckle. "I'll cook for you." You soothe your hands through his knotted and messy hair and his face visibly softens. He loved when you'd cook, always preferring it over take-out.
One time, you had caught your boyfriend arguing with his brother, Chris, to have you cook for them instead of just ordering out.
+
"Dude, she's not gonna be able to make chicken alfredo. We don't have the fucking ingredients." Chris sighed, pressing his eyebrows together.
"Chris, trust me. We could just go out and buy them really quick! I swear, it'll be heavenly." Matt jolted his leg up and down, attempting to talk him through it, already tasting his girlfriend's cooking on his tongue.
"It's almost 12:00 AM, Matt! The store is literally closed and she probably doesn't even wanna cook." Chris initiated, grabbing his phone out to order something. Matt rests his head on his palm, leaning against the kitchen island as he watches Chris order, giving up. "Do you think she'll want to tomorrow, though?" Matt wonders out loud.
"I actually hope so. I don't think anyone's made steak the same way she has." Chris responds, not denying the fact that your cooking truly is something else. "Right?" Matt agrees. "One of the best dinners of my life." Chris nods along, secretly hoping you'd be willing to feed them the next day.
+
You tap the large wooden spoon against the pot, letting any remaining liquid fall down the pot. You had decided to make him the classic chicken noodle soup. When Nick was sick, you had made him tomato soup, thankfully he had loved it, even after recovering asking you to make him some more. But you knew if you made that for Matt, it would've been a death wish.
You pour him the soup in a bowl, lifting a normal spoon up to your mouth as you blow the steam away, trying it. Perfect.
Getting the feeling of a lingering body behind, you spin your head around, seeing Chris hold his phone between both his hands like a purse, standing shyly behind you as he eyes the pot. "You good?" You laugh, and he doesn't audibly respond, only giving you an exaggerated sigh. "You want to try?" You finally ask after he gives you another sigh, he smiles immediately. "Yes, puh-lease." He uttered desperately. You take a quick scoop and hold it up, holding a palm under the spoon to keep anything from dripping. He notices your action, taking the spoon from you and mimicking your gesture, holding a hand under it as he brings it to his mouth.
He blows on it, flinching at the hotness of the liquid before finally pulling it in his mouth. A sense of victory pumps through you as you watch his eyes light up. "Can I have a bowl? Please, please, please. I promise I won't ask you for anything else. " He begs and you roll your eyes. 
"Let me feed your brother first, if there's any left, you can take some."
"Ugh." He huffs, migrating to the living room couch, watching on his phone until you're done.
You place the bowl under a plate, stabilizing it as you head for Matt's room.
Pushing through the door, you walk in on Matt in the same position you had left him in, scrolling through his phone before looking up at you when you enter. Closing his phone, he fixates himself on the bed as you approach, sitting on the side of his bed right by where his legs are crossed over each other under the blankets. "You made soup?" He questions before his eyes level with the bowl.
"I had to, it's tradition." You tell him, knowing he wasn't the biggest fan of soup. But if you were one thing, it would be willing to get him to like anything. "Okay." He hums, although you hadn't said anything, he trusted your judgement. You hold the spoon up to your mouth and blow at it, trailing it to his mouth.
"It's too hot, baby." He gasps, his lips jolting back from the sudden heat. "I know, but you'll have to drink it down. The whole point of soup when you're sick is to drink it hot." You assure, blowing a little more at it.
"But why?" He murmured, not liking what you were saying. "To burn the germs and to help you sweat, sweating helps you lose your fever quicker." He listens to you explain as you continue a little further, mentally reminding himself that you were also an older sister, this behavior coming to you naturally.
"Mm. Okay."
Grimacing when the hot liquid makes its way into his mouth, his face drops from any stiffness and lets it marinate in his mouth, swallowing it down. "Is there anything you're not good at?" He asks.
"I always burn sugar cookies."
"Oh yeah." Matt recalls. "I thought I was gonna experience a second house fire."
You shut him up with another spoon to his mouth.
-
The hours pass and you've done everything in your will to help Matt, and now that the sun is fully set, you can tell he has gotten the slightest bit better, knowing the change would kick in the next morning. There was no doubt that you were tired, doing the dishes and putting everything away, tidying up the kitchen, the living room, and Matt's bedroom.
It was when he threatened to never recover from this fever until you finally rested when you decided to take a break. You changed into spare pajamas that you keep in Matt's room, he watched you change with an upset look playing. 
"What?" You had asked.
"Wish I wasn't sick. Doing all these things for me, and still looking so beautiful. What a lucky piece of shit I am." He began getting sentimental. "You're too perfect for this world, you know that?" He watches you turn a flustered shade of blossom as you begin crawling into bed next to him.
You lay on your side as Matt raised an arm to drape over your shoulder, pushing you closer to him as you got comfortable, resting his hands on the dip of your waist, his fingers drawing shapes. Seconds pass, and you finally answer. "I don't think you're a piece of shit."
The sound of his hoarse chuckle vibrates through his chest. "You suck at taking compliments."
You lift your head up and he looks down at you, both of you getting the same idea in mind. "Don't." He warns, but you kiss him anyway. You didn't care that he was sick, or if that'll get you sick too. His warm lips pressed onto yours as you smiled in triumph.
"Too late."
part 2 here
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wosoamazing · 3 days
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Newest Signing
Part 1 - Fire on Fire Series A/N: This is the first part of my new Leah Series, I have already started writing and planing parts of it but if you have any ideas let me know and I will try and include them.
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Leah sat on her phone scrolling through various social media platforms, it hurt to see so many other people happy, with their partners when she wasn't, she had never had a successful relationship, to her no one was right, no one was the right match, she didn't feel like they clicked. So many of her exes told her that she had 'too high standards' or that 'soulmates don't exist' or something along the lines of 'you aren't perfect so why do you expect someone else to be perfect'. However she wasn't looking for a soulmate, she wasn't looking for someone perfect, she was just looking for the someone who was perfect for her.
She had started to think that maybe she was just asking for too much, and that her standards were too high, but that was until the day Jonas introduced the team to Arsenal's newest signing.
"Girls this is Y/N Y/L/N, she is our newest signing, and yes she did sign outside of the transfer window as approved by the FA due to issues at her old club, but no further questions on that please. She isn't going to be fully joining training until our Portugal training camp, just so she has some time to settle in but also a well deserved break, but you will see her in the gym and around the place, so please make her feel welcome. I think she is going to be really great for the team."
Her eye's immediately connected with the brunettes, she was tall and muscular, her face held the dreamiest blue eyes, and her smile was perfect, she continued watching the girl as she hugged Stina, the way her hair flowed, her body flowed, it was safe to say Leah was mesmerised.
"Stop staring, you creep" McCabe whispered in Leah's ear, causing her to break from her trance, giving the Irish women a playful smack on the shoulder. "I'm going to the gym," she said as she stood up and headed out, everyone around her making eyes at each other.
_____
You walked into the locker room behind Jonas and as he introduced you to the team, a certain blonde's eyes connected with yours, you couldn't help but notice the small smile her lips created when she saw you, but you quickly diverted your gaze to your best friend. Walking up to her and hugging her.
"I'm glad they let you sign out of the transfer window," Stina said, sounding relieved as she released the hug, "yeah I was worried they wouldn't but once I explained to the FA what was happening they were horrified and told me they would reach out to whatever club I wanted to, within reason, and see if they would sign me. Apparently there are going to be investigations."
"Good, they shouldn't be doing that. But where are you staying? You can crash at mine until you find a place if you need."
"Thank you, but I'm all good, Moster and Tante said I could stay with them, as they are in Paris for the next however long, however it was more a non-negotiable, I think they also meant I was going to be staying when they came back, again non-negotiable, but I'll see."
You and Stina continued talking until it was time for the girls to go to their meeting. You had an appointment with one of the physios just so they could check your range of motion and get some base lines in case you were to injure yourself before your first fitness testing session. As you walked into the gym, you saw a certain blonde in the corner, working away at some exercises which must've been set for her. As you worked with the physio completing the activities and exercises he wanted you to do you couldn't help but notice the way the blonde kept glancing over to you, almost as if she wanted to talk to you.
_____
You sat down at a table with Stina and Frida, Caitlin joined you and wanted to catch up with you and also trying to help you integrate with the team more easily, Caitlin's presence meant that Katie and then consequently Beth sat with you too. You knew the Aussies already due to having spent most of your childhood and your very early twenties in Australia, due to your Tante's work.
"Steph," you called out as you saw the very flustered Aussie walk into the dinning hall, she turned her head around to you, just about every emotion passing through her face.
"Y/N?" she questioned as she walked towards you, "what are you doing here?"
"Well if you weren't late you would've been here when Jonas said I was transferring here," you weren't normally one to say anything about your teammates being late, especially new teammates, however you are Steph had been teammates a long time ago, making your senior team debut for Melbourne Victory exactly a year after she made hers, and she also had a mark on her neck, so you were waiting to see how bad her excuse was.
"Sorry yeah I slept in, Calvin was up barking most of the night. It's so nice to see you again though," she explained as she pulled you in for a hug.
"That mark of your neck would indicate otherwise," you whispered in her ear, she just groaned knowing everyone would've already seen it.
You spend the rest of the lunch talking to mainly Steph or Stina and Frida but occasionally others would make some small talk with you.
After lunch you said your goodbyes to the team, and started to make your way out, when you heard someone call out your name, you turned around to see Leah moving towards you. "Would you like to join me and some of the team for dinner tonight? We are just going to a local pub," she questioned.
"Umm," you filled the air as you hesitated not sure what the goal of her invitation was, "if you don't want to, that's totally okay, I mean you're probably busy anyway," she quickly spat out trying to backtrack.
"Oh no, I would love to, it's just that I don't currently have a car," you told her as you fiddled with the ring on your finger.
"Oh, I can drive you if you want, you can just message me your address later," you nodded and mumbled a quiet thanks before you both went your separate ways.
____
You were just about to put your shoes one when you received a message.
From Leah: I'm just out the front in the car, no rush though. I know I'm early.
To Leah: Hey, all good, I'm actually just putting my shoes on now, I'll be out in a second.
You're pretty sure Leah's eyes widened as you walked out of the house and to her car. You opened the door of her car and saw her eyes run over your body before she said "You look nice," "Oh, thank you, it's nothing," you blushed slightly climbing into the passenger seat, but in truth it was nothing. You had a pair of light blue skinny jeans on, with a cropped country road rugby jumper on. You also have a black puffer vest in case you needed it but you placed that on the floor as you got in.
"You look nice too," you said as an afterthought, almost regretting it instantly, it probably wouldn't been better to say nothing at all than say that.
"Thanks," she smiled at you softly before she began to drive.
---
It was safe to say by the end of the night you hadn't once regretted your decision to come, all the girls there were super nice and it was a really great way to get to know them all, outside of soccer.
"Um, we're about to head home and we just thought to offer to take you home, since, um," Beth gestured over to where Leah was a the bar, you couldn't help but feel a small wave of warmth travel through your body at the fact that the team already seemed to care about you.
"Oh um, yes please that would be great," you followed Beth and Viv to their car, making small talk with them on the way home, when the car pulled up outside your home you didn't miss the look the couple sent each other, you quickly hopped out and thanked the two women profusely, before walking up the stairs of your home and collapsing onto your couch, noticing a message from Stina.
From Stina: Hey, I hope the night out with the girls went well. What would you say to a movie night at yours tomorrow night? In the theatre?
To Stina: Hey yeah it went well, Beth and Viv took me home, will explain why tomorrow night at movie night in the lounge room, you can invite Frida if you want too.
From Stina: Okay. I'll be over around 5. From Stina: Wait, why the lounge room?
To Stina: See you then, I'll make pasta.
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tkaulitzlvr · 2 days
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REGRET - T. KAULITZ
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synopsis: when a video of tom getting a little too close to another girl circulates around the internet, your confrontation sparks a heated argument between the two of you. but after tom says something in the heat of the moment, he is determined to make it up to you.
content: angst
a/n: i have risen from the dead🎀 i’m really rusty so if it‘s not up to scratch i’m sorry, ill post about why i’ve not been writing later but for now enjoy whatever this is🗣️
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my eyes are glued to the small computer screen in front of me, face twisting in disgust just a little more every time the low quality video replays. it is almost nauseating, yet i can’t turn away, fixated until my features are scrunched up in an agitating mix of anger and confusion. i am hoping that the events will change the next time the video restarts, that maybe my eyes are deceiving me, but as the same scene plays out in front of me, i quickly realise that it is real, and that my worst nightmare is coming true. not much can be distinguished - whoever had taken the video clearly hadn't payed much attention to keeping their camera still, or investing in the most high-tech gear, but i can tell that it is him. his dirty blonde dreads fall just below his shoulders, hand clutching a drink, surrounded by a crowd of girls whilst flashing lights illuminate his figure every few seconds, lighting up the bustling club before returning it to darkness. he knows that he is the centre of attention, but that doesn't seem to matter to him, his focus on the small blonde to his right.
much to my frustration, the video is only a few seconds long, showing tom leaning into the girl's ear, whispering something before pulling back, a smirk etched upon both their faces. it quickly cuts off just as his hand brushes along her arm, leaving much to be imagined - far too much. though this is probably for the best, watching another second of my boyfriend touching another girl would probably drive me close to insane - if i haven't already reached that point. i can't tell when the video was taken, but it is clearly recent, most likely from one of his tour after parties. he had arrived home last week, and i had been naive enough to miss him - until now.
i hurriedly rush to turn the computer off, sure that i will throw up if i have to watch that video one more time, its existence torture for me as i question how to go about this. tom is totally oblivious, having left for the studio this morning. however as each second passes, i realise that he will be home any minute, long before the anger that courses through my veins has any chance of burning out. my jaw is clenched, breathing heavy and eyes bloodshot as they fight tears, focusing on the blank wall ahead in an attempt to hold them back. the silence is peaceful, an almost laughable contrast to the chaos that echoes within my mind, thousands of unanswered questions racing through it as i am just about ready to pack my bags and never come back, sure that i have seen enough - and the only explanation is that tom has cheated on me.
but when the front door opens, i am trapped, any plans of escaping now far out of reach as tom's soft voice sounds from downstairs.
"baby? i'm home, where are you?" he almost sounds excited to see me, and on any other day, my heart would melt. but today, it twists with dread, feeling as if it has been ripped out of my chest and stepped on. i stay put, maybe because i know the capabilities of my mind, and its tendency to place me in uncomfortable situations, or perhaps it is the nagging in my chest convincing me to delay any conversation with him for as long as is physically possible.
the realisation that i can't avoid him forever comes much faster than i had anticipated. the dull thud of his footsteps trudging up the stairs are enough to capture my attention and pull me out of whatever trance i am subject to. my back falls back against the bed, shoulders slacking with the intent of looking as relaxed as possible, even if the current situation is the exact opposite. i wince when his presence makes itself known, attempting to conceal the uneasy look settling across my face.
"schatz, there you are." there’s no ill intent in his voice. infact it is sickly sweet, laced with an all-too innocent sense of security that on any other day would gravitate me towards him. this part of his day, when he would trudge into bed tiredly, was reserved just for me, for us, and it was something that we both looked forward to. but now it has fizzled out on my end, an excruciating discomfort habituating in its place, becoming harder to ignore with each passing second. the seemingly rigid walls into tom’s heart visibly crumble as he lets his guard down, his tired frame sinking into the soft mattress.
he leans his head against my arm, the limb tensing slightly in response to his touch. it feels wrong. how many other women felt him this close? the thought alone brings a sharp stab to my chest, its non-existent blade twisting within at the almost sickening idea of the same hands touching anybody else. with difficulty, i lift my arm up, heaving it to rest loosely across my torso. from the rigidness of my movement, tom senses that something isn’t right. whether it be impulse or a craving to feel me against him, he readjusts himself, grasping at any opportunity to weave himself even closer, my stiff demeanour offering him the upper hand.
the concept of control seems completely out of grasp now. although unaware, tom tears every remnant of serenity from my still frame, forcing me to follow his gaze and finally look into those eyes. his lips tug into a soft smile at the eye contact, pointer finger aimlessly grazing my lips. though emotionless, he appears to miss the look on my face, far too occupied with his own desires, no matter how light-hearted they seem.
“you have no idea how much i’ve missed you.” he mumbles against me, but when i dodge the kiss that he tries to place on my cheek, he finally pulls himself out of his selfish trance and realises that things aren’t as perfect as he had thought.
"hey, give me a kiss." his voice boarders the waters of hurt and confused, eyebrow furrowed with his eyes scanning my own desperately. when i don’t respond, he misjudges my silence for compliance, leaning downward to plant a soft kiss onto my lips. i don't reciprocate, remaining motionless, eyes wide open as he wraps his arms around me. he presses his lips harsher onto mine, desperation the clear motivator of his hurried movements. it quickly fades into concern when he realises the still lips that his own try to move against. breaking apart and surrendering his desire, he finally captures the hurt etched upon my expression, eyes trailing off into the blank wall behind him. he remains on top of me, his hand reaching to cup my cheek gently, the touch providing the exact opposite of consolation - instead allowing the bitter taste of resentment to settle along my tastebuds in place of his tender kiss. another woman felt those hands against her.
"look at me. what's wrong? did i do something?" his eyes scan mine desperately, feverishly attempting to fathom reasoning for my sudden standoffishness, all whilst his thumb rubs slow and soft circles along my cheek, an action which doesn't go unnoticed.
"did you think i wouldn't find out?" my jaw clenches, eyes narrowing as i finally push his body away. his confusion only intensifies as he collects himself as quickly as he can, scrambling to stand up and reduce our distance once again. his figure towers over mine, clearly failing to grasp the hint that i practically throw at him. if my actions aren’t able to spell it out for him, my words make what i want crystal clear.
“don’t touch me.”
though subtle, i notice the way he winces at my words, choosing to let them go for the time being. "what? baby what are you talking about? find out about what?" his chest rises up and down, expression totally readable, so much that i can sense his every thought, and it is terrifying. each second of silence thickens the already heavy air, so much that a heaviness begins to set in my chest.
i say nothing, instead walking toward the computer and switching it on. the screen lights up, the all too familiar video resuming from the point that i had left it. i grit my teeth, tempted to punch the screen and tom, both ideas becoming increasingly appealing. i turn to face him, remaining calm in spite of all brutal urges screaming out from within me, deciding to put them to bed.
"see for yourself. i'm sure you'd love a reminder of your little fling. she's very pretty, i'll give you that." his mouth opens to say something, quickly shutting with the realisation that he doesn’t have any words - none that would make the situation any better, anyway.
"shit, the paparazzi." he mumbles under his breath, massaging his temples a couple times before shutting the computer off, his eyes darkened as an unrecognisable look takes over. “schatz that isn't what it looks like, i promise you-"
"really? so i haven't just witnessed by boyfriend cheat on me with some blonde whore? you tell me you missed me? you seem to have got on swell without me.” my instinctive sarcasm soon burns out, replaced with an unexpected sadness, one that makes it next to impossible to remain composed.
"jesus christ. i wouldn't ever cheat on you. i don't even know who she is, georg said that he knew her so we let her hang out with us for the night. nothing happened, nothing at all. i love you and only you." he begins to get more defensive, voice raising slightly as he tries once again to move closer to me, an effort that even he knows is futile.
"what so you whisper in everyone's ear like that? you touch everyone's arm like that? you smile at everyone like that? i’m not as stupid as the whores you take to bed.” his excuses are almost laughable, and if my heart didn't feel so heavy with the realisation that he hasn't stayed faithful, i would probably laugh. my composure is deceptive, this soon coming to light with the coming of tears along my waterline.
"no, baby, please don't cry." he starts, protective instincts taking over in spit of the situation, his own eyes becoming glassy. when i shoot him a glare he knows to step back, though it is clear he wants nothing more than consoling me, as he usually would. now it is different, when he is the fuse that ignites this entirely fucked up situations "look, that's the only time i spoke to her the whole night. we were making a joke about georg, that's all."
"you must be kidding." my brows raise, searching his eyes for any hint of amusement, quickly understanding that he is being completely serious, this realisation only angering me more. “you know what? i’m leaving.” i attempt to move past him, struggling to progress even a few steps forward when he grabs my wrist, pulling me back in front of him. he is far too strong for me to put up a proper fight, but that doesn't stop me from trying my body tenses as i pull back, his grip only tightening, proving my efforts as worthless.
"can you just listen to me? i get that it looks bad but you're really overreacting here. Ive told you that nothing happened, why can't you just trust me?" he is no longer sympathetic. instead, his voice holds an anger within it that takes me aback slightly, his change in persona almost frightening. though his sudden defensiveness only alerts my suspicions more, silently reaffirming the fact that he has cheated, even if his words tell otherwise.
"trust you? fucking trust you? i have trusted you! and look where its gotten me. do you know how hard it is to have your boyfriend leave for months? no contact besides from a ten minute call every day, not a kiss, a hug, nothing! and this is what i see from your tour. what the fuck am i supposed to do with that?" i raise my voice, its harshness mirroring tom's as i finally manage to writhe myself out of his grip, now standing a few feet away from him. he clenches his jaw, looking to the side as silence takes over, its presence only brief however, soon destroyed by the sound of his voice, far louder than it had been through the course of the argument.
"i'm sorry that i don't have a normal career, okay? i've told you so many times that i don't have eyes for anyone else. every single night on tour i go back to the hotel early, because i miss you! and you can't even trust me!" he stops suddenly, almost as if he is contemplating his next words, enduring a silent battle between his mouth and his heart, knowing that both are leading him in different directions. i wait for his response, noticing the way that his expression darkens, eyes refusing to meet my own.
"well? that's all you have to fucking say? you seemed pretty comfortable with her. do you know how much that hurts? why am i not good enough for you?"
"stop it. you know you're good enough for me. don't say shit like that." he is quick to cut me off, his voice laced with disbelief, clearly failing to understand how i could come to such a conclusion.
"do i? seeing shit like that pretty much reminds me why i'm not-"
"look, maybe if you weren't such an insecure bitch then this wouldn't be a problem!" my face drops, lips parting slightly as i pray that my ears deceive me, creating their own truth, one distorted and far from reality. i stay silent, far too astounded to produce any witty comeback, or even look into his eyes. the silence between us is louder than any words spoken, and even more painful than those left unsaid. when i quickly take a glance at him, he realises his mistake just as fast as he had spoken. regret flashes across his face, his expression softening as he walks toward me. i nod slowly, far too defeated to argue back, wrapping my arms around my small frame and walking past him, my entire body shaking slightly as i sob.
"fuck- i didn't mean that. i'm so sorry, god i'm sorry baby." he spews out incoherent apologies, though i am far too hurt to comprehend them, instead tuning them out as i walk out of the room, closing the door harshly behind me.
it doesn’t take long for him to follow, his hurried pleas sounding from behind me. i am far too angry to listen, rushing down the stairs and into the hallway, scrambling for the nearest pair of shoes that i can find. his rambling quickly turns from frantic to desperate when he picks up on the reality of the situation, soon understanding that we are far beyond a kiss and an apology to resolve this.
“wait, hold on schatz. can we please talk about this? don’t leave me, please. i love you so much.” he tries to conceal the small sob that escapes his lips, but i notice it, the almost inaudible sound enough to make me reconsider my choices. but when his arm wraps around my wrist, though not with enough pressure to hurt, i know that forgiving him would be stupid.
“let go of me. i’m leaving for a while. do whatever you want, i don’t care.” my voice is surprisingly calm, the coarseness within it somehow washing away with each shallow breath i take. but the softness of my tone doesn’t match the strength of my movements as i yank myself from his grasp, reaching for my keys and clutching the door handle before he can stop me. i hesitate for a moment, taking a second to look back at him as he continues to spew out his apologies, mixed with incoherent promises that he loves me, along with his own tears that begin to fall from his eyes.
“bye tom.”
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please come home, i’m so sorry - 8:35pm
baby? - 8:35pm
i love you so much - 8:36pm
i promise i didn’t cheat - 8:36pm
can we talk about this? - 8:37pm
please tell me you’re safe - 8:39pm
sure, tom and i had arguments just as every couple did. but when i showed up at my best friend’s house, makeup smudged and eyes bloodshot, she knew that this one was more than just a disagreement on who’s turn it was to make dinner. it was obvious that she had questions, but my delirious state was enough of a motive to save those for another time, instead choosing to rush me inside and wrap me up in blankets on her small couch, insisting that we order takeout and watch movies until i calmed down.
“he’s still texting you?” she questions, referring to my phone vibrating yet again, as it had been for the past hour. i nod my head weakly, body sprawled across her couch, shuffling over to make room for the small brunette beside me. she offers a sympathetic smile, handing me a pint of ice cream and sinking into the cushions.
“i’m sorry.” she says, reaching over and pulling me into a hug, noticing the glassy sheet that forms over my eyes, squeezing me even tighter. “boys are assholes.”
i nod in agreement, hearing my phone vibrate once again, this time not even taking the time to look at the message. they had gotten pretty predictable as they became more frequent - either telling me that he loves me, or that he wants me to come home.
“you’re welcome here as long as you need, okay?” she fills in the silence, recognising that all i need is consolation right now, creating a conversation not on the top of my list of priorities. i mutter a small thank you, feeling my eyes becoming heavy.
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the beginning of a new day somehow intensifies the feeling within the pit of my stomach, the exact opposite of what i expected from a fresh start. now that i have settled down, the reality of it all feels like a fresh wound, one that i can’t envision myself ever healing from. though any time to endeavour into the complex puzzle of my emotions is drowned out by the all too familiar sound of my phone vibrating, and this time i have lost every ounce of self-control, reaching over to the small device embarrassingly fast. the bright light emitting from the screen causes my eyes to squint as i adjust, vision slowly clearing to reveal at least a hundred unread text messages, each one from tom. my sympathetic nature gets the better of me, a wave of guilt taking over as his messages spring from concerned, to apologetic, to borderline insane at my disappearance. i groan internally, quickly realising that i can’t hide forever, no matter how much i convince myself that it is the safer option.
luckily the task of getting myself ready to go back home isn’t a particularly long one. my jeans begin to dig into my sides, a rather unpleasant yet convenient reminder that i am still wearing the same clothes as the day before. quiet snores from the bedroom alert me to sleeping body of my friend, a small chuckle leaving my lips at the sound. i decide against disturbing her, instead scribbling a messy note and sticking it on the fridge, hoping that she’ll understand.
- going back home, thank you for all ur help. i’ll keep you updated, love you
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the house is silent as i enter it, the lack of noise almost eerie though short lived when i place my keys on the table, the metal clattering with a small thud. there is no sign of tom, not even the sound of a tv from the living room, or the quiet sizzle of fresh food, indicating that he is making breakfast as he would every morning. though it seems that i hadn’t entered as quietly as i had hoped, the sound of tom’s steps, quick and erratic, echoing from the kitchen, getting louder and louder until he is standing in front of me.
our distance is temporary, quickly diminished as he takes me into his arms, pressing his lips against mine with as much strength as he can muster. i only realise just how anxious he has been when his palms cup my cheeks. they are shaking, the skin cold against my own as his entire body begins to tremble, my stomach sinking. he is crying. in spite of his vulnerability, he is the first to pull away, firmly wrapping his arms around my frame and hugging me tightly.
“god i love you, i love you so much. i thought you weren’t coming back.” he struggles to get his words out, a mixture of incoherent sobs and quiet sniffles accompanying his speech. his grip only tightens, hands running up and down my back as he repeatedly kisses my hair, tears continuing to fall down his cheeks. my arms remain firmly by my side, sympathetic enough to allow him this small touch, yet no where near as forgiving to consider returning the act.
“are you okay?” he becomes worried, putting his emotions aside and finally separating his body from mine. his calloused fingers run over the smooth skin of my arms, looking for any sign of harm. even though he knows me well enough to guess that i had gone somewhere safe, his protective instincts kick in, convincing him that the worst has happened.
“i’m fine.” i mumble, releasing myself from his grip and walking into the kitchen, taking a glass and pouring myself some water, my throat dry from the strain on my voice from the night before. he quickly follows behind, taking my hand in his. he notices my hesitation, running a thumb over the back of my hand in an attempt to soothe me, and somehow, it works. seeing him in front of me brings back memories of last night, their sting still painful and effects strong with the irritating onset of tears. tom sees this just as fast as i do, reaching upward to wipe them before they are able to fall.
“i’m sorry, i’m so sorry beautiful.” he whispers, his touch so gentle i almost don’t feel it. he replaces his thumb with his lips, kissing just below my eyes, damp with evidence of my upset.
“how could you?” i mumble, voice barely above a whisper as i struggle to make eye contact, tom’s own gaze pained. his eyes are bloodshot, cheeks red and blotchy and entire body still trembling slightly. his face softens at my question, and silence takes over for a few moments.
“i know. i know how it looks. i shouldn’t have gotten so close to her, not when i have you. but i promise you that i didn’t cheat. you’re everything i want and i’d be an idiot to throw that away. you have to believe me baby.” his voice begins to break, thumb running across my cheek and eyes staring into mine, scanning desperately for any sign that i am convinced. it isn’t the most detailed nor thought out explanation, but i know him enough to see that he is telling the truth.
“okay.” i nod my head and look to the floor, swallowing harshly in an attempt to calm my shallow breathing. his fingers come underneath my chin, gently pulling it upward so that i am facing him again. the pain is still there, regret etched upon his expression as seeing the woman he loves in such a state hurts him just as much as me leaving. he takes me in his arms, lifting me up and gently kissing me again. this time i reciprocate, a small sob leaving his lips as he recognises this, his hold on me only getting tighter. the previous lack of contact had affected more than i had realised, the small reassurance of my kiss enough to crumble his usually calm temperament.
“i love you.” he whispers against me, his lips bitter with the taste of tears. that doesn’t matter to me. pressing my mouth to his as harshly as i can, my arms wrap around his neck, bringing him in even closer. he holds me so tightly, like i may slip away, the fear of losing me all too real. my small hands cup his cheeks, attempting to deepen the kiss, though doing so unsuccessfully as his voice vibrates against me. he sounds broken, his request coming out as a desperate plea, cut off by a short sob. “please say it back. you haven’t this whole time and i-”
“i love you too.” i mumble against his lips. he holds me even tighter, something which i didn’t think was possible. but considering the realms of possibility is an activity for another day. i have no time to consider anything as he kisses me once again, his touch addictive, and more than enough to make me forget everything.
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midnightcrw · 1 day
Text
Provocative
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Pairing: Alastor x fem!reader
Summary: Lucifer visits the Hazbin Hotel because his daughter called him, but there he sees a good friend he hasn't seen in a long time.
Warnings: Swearing
a/n: I know it's been a long time, but I just couldn't get myself to write anything because of my finals coming up and everything else going on. I also didn't want to write a bad third part, so I only wanted to write when I had some motivation to do so. I hope you all will like it. Part 1 / Part 2
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If you had known that one day you would see Mimzy again, you would have been the most holy person in your mortal days, and unfortunately, you weren't.
And as soon as everyone in the hotel registered the short woman's appearance, Lucifer dropped his grip on your hand, looking almost fearfully at your expression, which probably said more than a thousand words.
"Why is everybody gawking? Is it cuz I'm adorable?" The woman playfully said while posing as you gritted your teeth.
And not even a second later, Alastor immediately stopped holding your hand, "Mimzy!" The happiness was more than obvious in his tone.
"Alastor, sweetie, doll face!" In your mind you were already imagining how you could break every bone in her body. "How have you been? Good? Good," she said as she put her arms around your husband.
They even squeezed each other as they made contented sounds. "You good?" Lucifer whispered in your ear as you could almost feel your eye twitch.
"Splendid," you murmured back as the Ruler of Hell continued to look at you uncertainly, but your eyes never left the pair.
"I heard you were staying at this ritzy slob factory and I figured I'd stop by, say hi! For old times sake" you hated the way she talked about Charlie's hotel as the blonde walked even closer to Alastor, if that was even possible.
"Of course, Sweetheart! Everyone is welcome here" the enthusiasm still didn't leave your husband's voice as you balled your fists tightly.
"'Everyone is welcome' my ass," Lucifer muttered hatefully, squinting his eyes at the man dressed in red.
When Charlie asked how they knew each other, you tried to hold back as best you could, you knew what was coming.
And the moment Mimzy heard the question, an even bigger smile appeared on her face "Oh yeah. We go way back."
A little too far back, you thought.
"You know, this one used to frequent the club where I used to perform. He's the only one I knew who could pound whiskey like a sailor and then keep up with me on the dance floor," her theatrics continued as she did a little dance and received a compliment from Alastor.
"Ho ho, you should have seen her in her heyday," oh, how you wished you hadn't seen her then.
You remembered everything perfectly. Mimzy and Alastor knew each other before you married him, and you met her through him.
Alastor was always a huge fan of music, especially the music that was played at the club where Mimzy used to work. And one day he had had taken you out on a date. Of course you were excited at first, you had never been to that club before, you were expecting something spectacular since your husband was always talking about it.
And oh, how spectacular it was, Mimzy practically throwing herself at your husband like it was nothing. Now, you really weren't a jealous person, but the short woman brought out the worst in you.
At first you really tried to like her, but with every backhanded compliment, you began to truly despise her more and more.
It was obvious that she had a crush on Alastor, and that crush probably never really went away, or she just wanted to get you mad by sticking to him like glue.
"Oh, oh, my stars," she made her way to Lucifer as soon as she saw him, and you immediately made your way to Alastor while she was distracted.
"You never told me she was here," you said in a snippy tone as you approached him until you and him were face to face, just with you having to look up due to his height.
"My sweet, of course Mimzy would be in hell," he only said as he looked at the chubby woman who was currently engrossed in a conversation Lucifer had no interest in.
Before you could snap at him, the annoying voice was heard once more, "No way!" Mimzy shouted loudly as she made her way towards you, deliberately swaying her hips.
And before you could prepare, the short woman hugged you tightly as she stood on her tiptoes to lean closer to you, "Still the jealous little wench, I see," she snickered as you bit your tongue.
"Ah, just like old days," Alastor's smile still remained on his face as he looked at the two of you, obviously not having heard what his friend had just said to you.
I'll show you the old days, you thought when Mimzy finally let go of you. And then you all remembered that the tour of the hotel had to continue.
"Why don't you let the others help you settle in and I'll be back before you know it," your husband said to Mimzy as he took your hand and led you to Charlie and her dad.
"Behave," Alastor whispered in your ear as his static returned and you could only scoff.
"I'm the one who should behave?! Look at you!" You whispered back, even digging your nails into the hand that was currently holding yours.
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And while the tension between the two of you didn't go away, Mimzy already started talking to the others at the bar.
"How ya been, fur-ball?" She asked as she leaned her elbows against the bar, holding her face up with her hands.
"Good until five minutes ago" Husk wasn't happy about the whole situation, just like you, and it was obvious, and clearly ignoring his mood, she turned around to ask what Niffty has been up to.
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"I never understood why you liked her so much," you said, keeping the frown on your face as Alastor let go of your hand and wrapped his arm around your waist while Lucifer glared at him as Charlie showed him around.
"Jealous, aren't you?" He asked with his piercing smile, having already expected this reaction from you.
"She's the last person I would be jealous of," you snapped back, but in reality you knew she was everything you were ever jealous of.
Not only was she popular, but she was beautiful and confident. All the things you couldn't see for yourself.
Suddenly, Alastor laughed, even softly, I might add, as his hand rubbed your hip, "As it should be, you have nothing to be jealous of, love," your eyes widened.
He has never called you "love" before, unless it was to get attention or to make your marriage more believable decades ago.
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"Uh-huh... Thanks, pussy cat!" Mimzy said as she drank from the glass.
"Oh, fuck you" was the only thing Husk replied with as he walked away while Angel Dust made his way to the bar.
"So uh, you and Alastor are like what? Friends?"
A grin made its way across her face, "Well, that's your word, not mine, but I think it fits," Angel Dust didn't seem too convinced as he sipped from his glass, which didn't seem to make Mimzy too happy.
"Why so surprised?" She grunted as Angel Dust responded with "Well, just didn't know he had any of those. He's been here a while and is still a big, creepy mystery. I really don't know how his his wife handles him. What even is his deal?"
At the mention of you, her face fell for a split second, but she regained her composure as she began to tell them about when Alastor revealed himself as the Radio Demon.
"But underneath is all... he's a total sweetie. Put on some jazz and pour a couple fingers of rye, and he becomes a kitten!"
Sir Pentious and Angel Dust looked at her in shock, since that part didn't sound like the Overlord they knew.
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And once the tour was over and they made their way back to the bar.
"There you all are! I was starting to get real bored here," Mimzy's voice was slowly starting to make you mad once more.
"Finally," Husk grunted as he wiped the glass in his hands clean while Mimzy continued to talk.
"I bet she was the reason it took so long," obviously referring to you as she glared, "Nothing's been the same since the marriage," the short woman ranted, while you rolled your eyes at her as you suddenly felt Alastor's hand graze your back.
Looking up at him, his eyes were a fraction softer for once, as you couldn't look away.
"Since the marriage?" Lucifer asked, clearly confused as to what was being discussed.
"Their marriage, of course," Mimzy said with disgust in her voice as she nodded towards you and Alastor.
"You're married?!" Lucifer yelled as you flinched at the sudden loudness, while Alastor rubbed your arm in reassurance.
Fuck... you thought.
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Taglist
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198 notes · View notes
pomefioredove · 3 days
Note
Hi! This is very very specific, but…I've had a rough start to my day today, kinda relating to the topic of my request…
So I was wondering, would it be alright to request HCs of Jamil, Ruggie, Leona, Floyd and Rollo with a Reader who runs into an emotionally abusive/manipulative parent they haven't seen in a long time? The kind of subtle abuse that's hard to tell (from the inside, at least) is even abuse at all, and makes you doubt yourself a lot. Kinda narcissistic abuse
Kind of a hurt/comfort thing? Like how they'd deal with the bad parent and the Reader opening up a bit about it. Romantic or platonic, either one is good
Feel more than free to ignore if this kind of request isn't your thing: that's totally fine, I understand it's a bit heavy, not to mention very specific, so please do what makes you feel best. I hope you have a good day!
ahhh of course! I relate to this sort of thing a lot (although I don't use terms like narcissistic abuse since abuse is just abuse to me) and I know exactly what you mean. I love hurt/comfort and you're well within my boundaries since the only thing I wouldn't write pertaining to this topic is intimate partner abuse (like with an s/o). so you're perfectly fine! I enjoyed writing this <3
summary: comforting a reader with an abusive parent type of post: short fics characters: jamil, ruggie, leona, floyd, rollo additional info: reader is not specified to be yuu ("shrimpy" is used as a nickname during floyd's part tho), reader is gender neutral, food mention (ruggie's part), actual interaction w the parent happens during leona and rollo's parts, mentions/descriptions of emotional abuse, although reader is kinda vague about it
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Jamil Viper
Jamil knows what it's like to feel stuck.
That's really all he has to know when he recognizes that look on your face.
Perhaps you usually wear your heart on your sleeves, or perhaps you're better at keeping your emotions to yourself, like him, but either way he can tell something is very wrong the second he sees you.
It's a bit strange, isn't it?
Surrounded by people in the cafeteria and yet no one seems to notice the shadow cast over you.
He tries to talk himself out of it for the rest of the day. He has enough on his plate as it is, and it's not his problem. He's Kalim's keeper, not yours.
But that sense of unease doesn't go away.
He drags himself out of bed and somehow finds himself at your door in the dead of night.
And even though it takes you a moment to answer, he can tell you were already awake.
"Here," he says, handing you a warm meal in a container. "I noticed you didn't eat today. We had leftovers."
You don't feel very much like eating, but you accept the gift, anyway. It smells amazing. His cooking always does.
"Thank you," you mumble.
You can't think of anything else to say.
"Are you... well, Kalim sent me to ask if you're feeling unwell," he lies through his teeth.
"I'm fine,"
Another lie, this time of your behalf, which annoys him ever-so-slightly.
"You're clearly not. Are you sick?" the question is vague enough, said in such a way that leaves you with the impression that he wasn't exactly referring to a physical illness.
"I've... had a rough day,"
Jamil is quiet for a moment, thinking to himself. And then: "Do you mind if I come in?"
He's always so careful with his words that such a direct (yet polite) request almost catches you off guard. You step to the side, letting him in your room.
"I don't mean to pry. I know it's not my place," he says, watching you close the door. "But... Kalim is worried. Yes."
You shake your head. "It's fine. I'll get over it,"
It.
What did "it" mean? Surely this couldn't just be a lousy day.
"Did something happen?"
You hesitate.
"Have you ever... ran into someone who made your life miserable? That you thought you moved on from... and it starts to feel like you're stuck in that place all over again?"
Of course. Of course he knows what that feels like.
He has to live through that exact experience every day, without even being able to move on.
But he can't just say that. And this is about you, after all.
"I'm familiar with the feeling. I suppose that's what's ruined your day, then?"
"That's one way to put it," you sigh, sitting at the edge of your bed. "Sometimes it feels like all the progress I've made is just... null. Like I'll never really move on."
He hates how much he's relating to you. How much you're affecting him, now, too.
He follows you to the bed and sits beside you.
"Someday, though, you will. It may feel hopeless now, but... you won't stay stuck forever,"
Unlike me, he thinks.
"How can you be so sure?"
"I can't be. But you don't strike me as someone to give up after hardship,"
Like me.
You're quiet for a moment, seemingly considering what he told you. And then you hug him.
A nice, soft hug. Not abrasive or sudden like the ones Kalim gives. He'd almost forgotten what it felt like.
"Thank you, Jamil,"
He hugs back. "Of course,"
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Ruggie Bucchi
It was almost painful, watching you fumble with your wallet like that.
You couldn't seem to get the proper amount out, shaking like a leaf and apologizing profusely. Sam keeps telling you it's okay, but the line forming behind you is starting to grow restless.
Ruggie included.
He has places to be, after all, and he's got two whole crates of energy drinks to lug back to Savanaclaw.
He has half a mind to ask what the holdup is.
And so, he peers over your shoulder, ready to- oh, no. You're crying.
Damn it. Why can't things ever be easy for him?
He can't even chew someone out for taking up all his precious time without being thrown a curveball. And now he feels bad.
Sigh.
"Hey, I got this," he says, setting his heavy crates down on the counter and flashing a card.
Your eyes widen. "Oh, no, Ruggie, you don't have to-"
"Relax, it's Leona's money, not mine," he offers a grin, ignoring the tears trailing down your face. "He won't even notice it's missing."
The line behind you two breathes a collective sigh of relief (much to your embarrassment) and Ruggie shoots them a glare.
"I... I still can't accept this-" you start, before he quickly shushes you.
"Hey, if you wanna make it up to me, you can help me carry these things. I'll call it even,"
You're silent for a moment as Sam finishes ringing you both up, and then you take a crate. As quiet as ever. It's unnerving.
You're walking back to the Hall of Mirrors when Ruggie breaks that silence by bringing up your purchase. "So, what's up with the afternoon snack? Not that I'm judging- I'm jealous. I skipped lunch, shishishi,"
"Oh, it's nothing," you mutter. "Comfort food, I guess."
The concept of comfort food is extremely appealing to him. "Huh. Long day?"
"Something like that... Why'd you skip lunch?"
Trying to change the conversation topic? Clever. But he'll bite, anyway.
"Leona forgot some of his class stuff, so I had 'ta run and get it. Too bad he forgot where he left it... I was all over campus,"
"Did you find it?"
"Eventually. Or else I'd be busy getting my neck wrung instead of 'bein here with you,"
You nod, and the conversation swiftly dies.
After another awkward beat, he clears his throat. "So you... you wanna talk about it, or something?"
"What?"
"You know, your... your day," he mutters, shrugging. He's desperately trying to remember all of the things his grandma did for him when he was upset as a child. "Talking about it might... make 'ya feel better, y'know?"
You're quiet again, and for a moment Ruggie is worried he said something to offend you.
Then, much to his relief, your voice picks up. "I ran into someone today,"
"What? Like someone was giving you trouble?"
"No, not a student. Someone I don't see very much anymore. Um... I guess it just threw me off,"
He tilts his head to the side. "Why?"
"I don't... well, we don't get along very much. Something about them just makes me feel... very... small. Insignificant,"
You don't ask if he understands what you mean, but he does. Not that he'd ever admit that so openly to you at a time like this, but being small and insignificant is basically his job.
And as much as he likes the perks, he can imagine how rough it would be to deal with that and not get to use a bottomless credit card whenever the opportunity presented itself.
He struggles to respond for a moment.
"That's rough,"
Definitely not the sympathetic response he was going for. At least you don't seem to mind.
"I-I mean, sometimes we have to act small to survive. It's a part of life, 'ya know? But that doesn't mean you are small. Just surviving on its own is an accomplishment," he recovers from his earlier blunder, trying to smile. "You should be proud of yourself, if anything."
"That's..." you say. "That's one way of looking at it."
He sighs. "I'm not expressing myself very well, am I? What I'm trying to say is that you're not small or insignificant, and living life feeling like you are is a survival tactic at best,"
The both of you stop in front of Savanaclaw, and he offers another grin.
"And if you ever wanna talk about this stuff... well, I'm around... And you can come inside now, if you want. I could definitely find more stuff to carry!"
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Leona Kingscholar
Leona Kingscholar is very, very much enjoying parent weekend alone, thank you.
Of course his folks don't want to attend a school event for their disappointment of a second son. Why would they care? And on Cheka's birthday weekend, no less...
But that didn't bother him. Not at all.
As long as he slept through the weekend without being bothered by any happy-go-lucky nuclear family units, he'd live.
That plan lasts about five hours.
"You'd be better off doing something more useful with your time. Sports, or science, or... something that might help your future. But if you're so sure... I suppose it's better to cut our losses now than put any more faith in you. You just can never decide, can you?"
That voice. Unfamiliar, but drawling, laced with poison. Aggravating enough to stir Leona from his nap in the botanical gardens.
And it's getting closer.
"I just don't understand. Why get accepted into one of the most prestigious schools in the world just to spend your time goofing off?" a long sigh. "But as long as you're happy... we just want what's best for you."
Leona grumbles, turning over and trying to drift back to sleep.
"I'm trying,"
This voice is different. No- he recognizes it. It's yours.
"Are you? You know I know what's best for you, right?"
Sevens. This is your parent speaking to you? No wonder you've been acting all jittery lately.
He sits up, giving up on his nap, and continues listening in.
"I know," you say. "I really am trying, though."
"Did I say you weren't? Don't speak for me,"
This is getting ugly. Leona stands, stepping out of the shrubbery and clearing his throat behind the two of you.
You're the first to turn. "Oh- Leona! Sorry, we didn't mean to disturb you,"
"You're fine," he snaps, sharp eyes turning to your parent beside you. "Who's this, then?"
"This is-"
"Their parent," they go ahead and introduce themselves, cutting you off as if you weren't speaking at all. Like you're a piece of furniture hanging in the background. He's not a fan.
"Really? From the way you were talking, I would have guessed that you were their coach. Or boss,"
Your eyes dart between the two. "Leona-"
"You're fine," he reaffirms. "I was just looking for you, anyway. We really have to talk."
You pause, raising an eyebrow. He? Wants to talk to you? Now?
"Is it important?" your parent asks. The question is directed at you, although he answers.
"Very. I was just coming to ask you, very politely, I might add, to reconsider my offer,"
"Your... offer...?"
Your parent looks down at you. "What's he talking about?"
"Can't blame you for forgetting. I'm sure you're busy with all your... school... things. But I do have to ask you to rejoin the spelldrive club. We're in shambles without you,"
He gives you a certain look, one that clearly reads "Go along with it."
Leona Kingscholar offering an olive branch to someone is a rare occurrence. So you take it.
"Oh! Right, I have been busy with school. I've been meaning to get back to you..."
Your parent looks between the two of you with just the faintest hint of confusion, and then frustration. "You've been playing spelldrive? When was I going to hear about this?"
"They haven't been playing with us," Leona says, a small smirk already forming. "They're the team manager. They're way too smart to be out on the field- no, they're running the team, they're organizing everything, their strategy is like nothing we've ever seen. If only they were in Savanaclaw, we might have a chance at winning one of these years."
"Uhhh..." you start, looking between your parent and the oddly friendly and receptive clone that's replaced Leona. "...Yeah, right."
"Now, if you'll excuse us, we really have to discuss official club matters," he says, shooing away your parent until they eventually give in and leave.
As soon as they're out the door, you turn to him. "What w-"
"Are you alright?" he asks.
Stunned would be an understatement. "I'm fine,"
"Really? Cause you're looking at me like a gazelle caught in headlights,"
"I-I guess it's just been hard... having them here,"
Leona nods, closing his eyes as he thinks to himself. Then, he sighs.
"Yeah. I get that. Come on, then,"
You raise an eyebrow as he starts off in the opposite direction. "What? Where are we going?"
"Somewhere quiet and warm to nap. Being around that person sucked all the energy right out of me, I can't imagine how exhausted you feel,"
He turns to look over his shoulder with a smile. "With any luck, we'll avoid them for the rest of the weekend,"
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Floyd Leech
Of course, he can tell something's up right away.
Well... maybe it takes him a little while to tune into the conversation, but once he does, he notices you've been... awfully quiet throughout it.
His favorite little shrimpy? All sad? Moping around like a kicked puppy?
Now this catches his attention.
"Bored?" he asks. It's his first guess.
"Hm?" you ask, looking back at him. "No, I'm fine."
"But you're not,"
"Okay, I'm a little distracted,"
Now that, he can understand. But there's still something very off about the whole thing that he can't quite put his finger on.
"You're not telling me something," he states, matter-of-factly, crossing his arms.
You raise an eyebrow. "...And?"
"And I wanna know. I'm not letting you leave until you tell me,"
Your thought process is probably ranging somewhere between "oh, no," and "oh NO," by now.
"I sweaaar, it's nothing," you insist. "I just had a bad day, okay?"
"Why?"
There's no turning back now. He's invested, and until he loses interest, you're stuck here.
"It was... just... long. Can I go now? I have things to do,"
He frowns, and stands, and then puts you in a headlock. "Alright, where're we 'goin?"
"FLOYD!"
He drags you along with him, remembering not to be too rough as he takes you from place to place on his dailies. You begrudgingly learn to accept it.
When you walk back into the Mostro Lounge, Azul and Jade don't even bat an eye.
"You're thirty minutes late- ah, why do I bother?" Azul says, rifling through a stack of papers on his desk. He only looks up when he catches a glimpse of you. "Oh. Hello, there."
You wave half-heartedly. "Can I get some help?"
"Floyd. What is the meaning of this?" he asks.
Floyd pouts. "There's 'somethin wrong with them and they won't tell me what,"
"Are they ill?"
You lower your eyes at the two as they speak like you're not even there. "Hello?"
"Nah, they feel fine. They're all mopey, though,"
Azul hums to himself, lost in thought. And then: "Well, figure out what it is, and get to work, if you please,"
"Azul!" you shout. He ignores you.
Floyd drags you back outside the office and sits down with you at one of the tables, waving to concerned lounge-goers as they pass by.
"Now will you tell me?"
"Geez, alright, alright. I give up, you win," you sigh. "I... well, my parent was here earlier. At school. And we talked, and they... said some not-very-nice things to me. That's why I've been upset, okay?"
Floyd's smile immediately drops. "I win? But that's not a very good prize,"
"Tell me about it,"
"Why would anyone be mean to you, anyway? You're the best shrimpy I know!"
You avert your eyes. "It wasn't... mean... per se. Just... not nice,"
"Sounds mean to me," he mutters. "I don't get it."
"Well, sometimes these things just... don't make sense. It's my fault, anyway," you sigh.
His gaze sharpens at that. "'An who told you that? You didn't do anything! I'm starting to really dislike this parent of yours,"
His sudden mood swing doesn't phase you, but it does lift your spirits... just the tiniest bit. Even if you wouldn't admit that to yourself. "Hey, it's fine. I'm over it,"
"You sure you don't want me to squeeze 'em?"
"Heh. No, that's okay. I would like you to let me go, though,"
His eyes widen at the sudden realization he still has you in a headlock and he quickly releases you.
You sit up, stretching and rubbing the back of your neck. "Thanks,"
"My arm was starting to hurt, anyway..." he thinks for a moment, looking back to the office door. "Ya think I can use that to get out of working? I wanna spend more quality time with my favorite shrimpy. You could use it!"
You look to the door and shrug. "Hey, worth a try, right?"
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Rollo Flamme
Out of all the things to ruin the day, of course it had to be your parent.
The disappointment between the two of you was palpable. And even though it was only a brief encounter, it was enough to sour the rest of the afternoon for the both of you.
The first thing Rollo noticed, of course, was the manner in which they carried themselves. As an authoritative, important figure, puffing out their chest and towering over you. What gave them the right...?
They were not a leader, nor a public figure, nor anyone of interest, if your earlier mentions of them gave him any idea. Nothing but an adult who spoke to the both of you as if you were tiny children.
He loathed being talked down to.
Perhaps he should have said something sooner than he did, and perhaps he should have said something more than the interruption he used to excuse you from the conversation.
And now you're just quiet.
"Are you well?" he asks, looking at you from the corner of his eyes.
You shrug.
"I apologize for not speaking on your behalf sooner. I did not want to be rude,"
No response at all.
Your silence was driving him mad. He couldn't get a good read on what you were feeling when you kept looking away like that.
"If you'd like to return home early, I would understand and escort you promptly,"
"No,"
A response. Not a good one, but a response nonetheless.
"May I ask you a question?" though he doesn't really wait for your permission to go on. "Why do they speak to you like that?"
That comment seems to jolt you, and you turn to look at him with wide eyes. "What? Speak to me like what?"
He struggles for the right words.
How could he describe it? It was so... odd. The words they spoke to you didn't sound cruel, but there was something sinister lurking beneath them. And not even in the typical "polite for the sake of it" sense.
Each response they gave was laced with a sort of venom that seemed to sting you. You had grown quiet, distant, as if you weren't really there at all.
Of course he was familiar with such tactics. He could weave his own words with ease. But you had done nothing wrong- you were guiltless. Why were you being punished?
He couldn't quite come up with an answer.
"You seemed uncomfortable," he finally says, looking away again. "I apologize for such an experience happening to you under my watch."
"It's not your fault,"
"It certainly isn't. And it's not yours, either,"
A blanket of silence falls over the two of you until he speaks again.
"You have nothing to feel bad about," he reaffirms.
Another pause.
"And I don't mean to intrude. But if you ever need my assistance, you know where to find me,"
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vivwritesfics · 2 days
Text
Fake It Till You Make It
Chapter Six - Where Is The Party Princess?
The Princess of Monaco is wild and out of control. She needs to stop being in the tabloids for all the wrong reasons. Charles Leclerc has had a spot of bad press since his very public break up. He needs some good PR. What better way to fix their problems than to pair them up?
1.8K
Series Masterlist
a/n: thank you so much to @nirrahbrii for help with some translations! i don't think this chapter would have been the same without that little world lol
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Where Is The Party Princess?
The Monaco Post prides themselves on their ability to keep the public updated on the whereabouts of our favourite royal. We've documented every one of her scandals, from the time where she was fifteen years old and found herself detained by the police, to last year, when she was caught in bed with American actor, Glen Powell.
For the past few years, we have thanked the Princess of Monaco for providing us with such stories. She was a royal like no other, one we found our readers could relate to.
So, that leaves us to wonder, where is the party princess now? It has been a week since we've last seen Princess Y/N. Our sources have reached out to members of the royal family and staff for comment, but only managed to get one reply.
It seems, dear readers, that our beloved party Princess has run away.
"Are you sure you want the party princess to drag you down to her level? Because that's what's going to happen next time we're pictured together."
Charles turned his full body towards her. "What're you saying?" He wore a frown on his face, one that didn't suit him. She realised it immediately. He looked so downtrodden when he frowned. "Do you want to break this arrangement off?"
Once again she shrugged. "Just giving you the option to get out before you end up like Frédéric Archambeau," she said.
"Who is Frédéric Archambeau?"
"Exactly."
Charles sucked in a breath. He drummed his fingers against the arm of the chair and stood up. "That's it," he said, striding towards her. "We can break off this arrangement, if you want, but I'm not going to leave you to here to rot."
She scoffed. "Stop pretending to care."
Immediately, Charles took a hold of her mug and placed it down onto the coffee table. "Come on," he said, taking her hand and pulling her to her feet. "We're going away."
She couldn't stop the laugh that was pulled from her lips. "Fuck off, Charles," she said and pulled her hand out of his.
But Charles grabbed her again. He pulled her towards her bedroom. "Pack a bag, we're going somewhere warm," he said and pulled open her wardrobe.
"Where?" It wasn't a genuine question, more of a challenge. She sat on the bed and folded her legs under her body, watching him. "Where the fuck are you taking me?" Her voice was bitter, filled with venom as she watched Charles.
He found a suitcase under her bed and began throwing clothes in. It was impossible to sort out what was clean and what wasn't, so Charles just threw it all in. "Australia," he said. "Or Spain. We can go wherever."
"I don't want to go with you," she said immediately.
Charles released an exasperated sigh. "I am begging you to go along with this," he said as he crouched in front of her. "Don't even do this for me. Do it for yourself!"
"Why?" She cried. "Why the fuck do you care about me?!"
Charles dropped his head into his hands. "Please," he said quietly. "Just, let me help you."
It wasn't for her, she realised quickly. For some reason, Charles needed this. He needed this trip, she just didn't know why he needed her. "Fine," she said and began filling her suitcase with everything she'd need for a trip away.
A relieved breath left his lips. "Thank you," he whispered.
That was how she found herself in Greece with Charles Leclerc. For the first few days, the tabloids had left them alone. The Monaco press wasn't around to write new crap about her (so they'd been recycling the same old crap).
It took a few days for her to really warm up to him. She knew Charles, sure, but she knew the Charles the world saw. She knew the rich kid from Monaco, the one that the tabloids wrote about, the one that had the tiktok edits made about him.
She didn't know the real Charles. The Charles that loved his friends. The Charles that had so much he wanted to do with his life. The Charles that was genuinely so funny. She knew the F1 driver that doubled as a super model, she knew CL16, not Cha.
Cha. When had she taken to calling him that? It had happened all at once, but she hadn't stopped. It was maybe their second day in Greece, their second day of peace, their second day of getting away from it all.
Every call she'd gotten from Henri, she'd ignored. She didn't need her brother's constant scrutiny. He didn't approve of the trip, that much was clear, but she didn't care. Henri had tried calling Charles, but, at her request, he didn't pick up the phone.
Both the Princess and Charles were used to being waited on through their vacations. They were rich enough that it had become expected. But, for this vacation, Charles wanted it to just be the two of them. No interruptions, nobody to report back to the press.
Just the both of them making the most of it.
She stepped out of her bedroom in the villa and yawned. Her body was adorned in nothing but shorts and a vest top as she walked across the cold stone flooring, heading towards the kitchen.
Charles was already sitting there. He sat in just his swimming trunks, a coffee in front of him as he went through his emails. (As embarrassing as it was to admit, it had taken the two of them two days to work out how to use the coffee machine. She and Charles each had a coffee machine, but this one was different, not as simple as having a 'go' button.)
"Wanna go out for drinks tonight?" She asked as she sat opposite him. Her body was turned towards the kitchen doors, looking towards the pool.
She hadn't had a drink since they'd gotten to Greece. Charles was incredibly proud of her, although he hadn't said anything. "We can go for a few," he answered. Nothing too crazy, Charles wasn't sure what to do with her if she got too crazy.
He was barely able to take care of her after they'd gone to The Hole In The Wall.
Maybe that was what led Charles to suggest something else. As much as he wanted to, he couldn't in good conscience take her out for a night on the town. They'd managed to stay out of the spotlight for this long, and Charles could see how much good it was doing her. Doing both of them.
He wasn't ready to drag her back into it.
"What if we stay here?" He asked, standing up and walking towards the glass doors. He carried his coffee mug with him as he looked at the pool sparkling in the morning sun. "We could have drinks around the pool."
She let out a snort, one she assumed he would have found unattractive. "You still that embarrassed to be seen with me?" She asked through her snort. But then she saw the way his face fell. "I'm joking, Cha. Yes, I'd love to have drinks with you around the pool."
They went about their day, swimming in the pool, lounging in the sun, going out for lunch together (always in big hats and sunglasses. It wasn't the most covert operation, but it was working).
In the evening, Charles attempted to make dinner. He wasn't the best cook out there, but it was something he enjoyed. They'd gotten drinks on their way back from lunch, shopping in the little supermarket on their way back to the villa.
It wasn't supposed to be anything fancy, but she still dressed up. Charles had the nicest shirt and shorts combo that he'd brought with him and she wore a pretty little dress.
He wasn't going to admit that the sight of her walking down the stairs, sitting in the little out by the pool in that pretty little dress, it would have had a weaker man on his knees. Charles didn't know how he was still standing. Maybe because he wanted to help her, maybe because he respected her brother too much to try anything on.
She sang his praises while she ate, a far cry from the girl he'd practically forced to pack a bag just a few days ago. This was a side of her that the world had forced to hide away. This was the side of her he wanted to see, the real her that he wanted the world to fall in love with. Not the her that the world had decided to hate.
When they finished eating, they just sat there, drinking and talking as they looked at the pool. "So, are you actually friends with my brother, or is it just because he's the princess?" She asked as she drank from her wine glass.
Charles let out a laugh. That was exactly the kind of question he'd expected from her. "Henri and I are actually friends," he answered, not paying attention to the way her toe hit his knee (he didn't mind it, not one bit). "I'll admit, I felt bad when people called me the Prince of Monaco, and that may have contributed to me wanting to be friends with him. But our friendship is real."
She nodded as she sipped. "Must be nice having the Prince of Monaco at your every beck and call," she mumbled.
"You're saying that like you don't."
That dry laugh he'd heard so many times before, that dry laugh that Charles hated to hear, left her lips. "Trust me, Cha, I don't." She finished her drink and stood up. "At least, not the real Prince of Monaco."
He couldn't tell whether it was the alcohol that controlled her. But she hiked up her skirt and sat himself in her lap. It was so sudden, so unexpected, he had no idea what to do. Her hands were around his neck. "I'd rather have the unofficial Prince of Monaco at my beck and call. What do you think of that?"
Charles couldn't react. He didn't get a chance to, not when she pressed her lips to his own.
It wasn't slow, it wasn't full of passion. No, it was quick and clumsy. One taste of her lips against his own. And, when she pulled away, she laid her head against his shoulder. "I shouldn't have done that," she whispered as she played with his hair. "Oh, crotte."
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copperbadge · 15 hours
Text
Lately, it's felt like every time I've started to work on writing, I'll just be getting into the rhythm of it when I get interrupted, either by work or the cats or because the time I'd booked in the library study room is up (you can only do two hours at a time, and only four hours a week total). It was getting to the point where I kept re-reading the same chapter or so of previous work but never managing to add to it.
So I tried an experiment this past weekend -- I found a really cheap rate on a local hotel room, and on Friday I took an overnight bag and a very old laptop with limited processing power and checked into a room about a mile from home for a quasi "staycation". I unpacked and had a quiet night on Friday, as prelude to working Saturday-Sunday. The idea was to write uninterrupted by other people, pets, the presence of all my Stuff around me at home, et cetera.
I had snacks but I also bought meals out, which was nice; I don't often order in or buy out when I'm at home. The way I set up was that I would do fifty minutes of writing with do-not-disturb engaged on my phone and then ten minutes of checking email, texts, etc. since often what pulls me out of writing is a text or an email that needs answering, or the anxiety that I'm missing one that would. If I set it so that every hour I check, well, nobody's going to die if something doesn't get answered in an hour, so the anxiety isn't there, and neither is the distraction. (I found a nice app for this, review later depending on how functional it continues to be for me, but it's a like $4 app called Forest.)
It worked pretty well -- writing for an uninterrupted hour, as long as I know what I'm working on, is very functional for me. I average about two thousand words, that way, though there is a limit to the number of hours I can put in. I ended up doing two hours in the morning and one hour in the afternoon, then switched from fiction writing to clearing out my tumblr drafts and some correspondence for the fourth hour. So it went something like
Go out and get breakfast, bring back and eat in room
Change into lounging clothes and do two one-hour sessions
Go out and get lunch, eat lunch out
Bit of a rest break back in the room
Two one-hour sessions, one of writing; when tired, switch to something that requires less creativity
Go out and get dinner, bring back and eat in room
And then in the evening the plan was to watch movies or catch up on reading, but I ended up being mentally weary, so instead I did some simple tarot reading. It was less divination or even meditation than just messing around, keeping the creativity stimulated; I did a couple of Creative Writing spreads, some very brief divination spreads (I nicked a nice three-card spread here that I mentally call He To Hecuba, and just used it in general rather than for a specific question) and then invented a spread when I was starting to get irritated that the same like, five cards kept coming up, more on this in its own post.
Sunday I did one more writing session but it was less successful, I think partly because what I was writing required a lot of research and partly because the previous day I'd dumped eight thousand words into the file. (Research took longer because I brought the most garbage laptop known to man, and the browsers crash if you try to open Google Maps, but in other ways it was ideal since there wasn't much I could do on it other than write.) But I had a good breakfast, got some rest, packed up easily enough, and headed home just ahead of the rain storm.
I don't think it's something I'll be able to do in that format especially often, since the deal I got on the hotel was an anomaly and Chicago lodging, even just AirBNB stuff, is stupid expensive. But in addition to helping get some work done it was a nice break, so I'm going to look into ways I could swing it on a perhaps monthly basis, or some other way to cheaply spend an entire day alone with decent access to a bathroom/snacks and a way to come and go easily. I've looked into coworking spaces before but they tend to be prohibitively expensive and don't really have the setup I'd prefer; there's a hostel on the north side with private rooms that I might try out but it doesn't seem significantly cheaper than a hotel. I might just have to pick one weekend a month and watch last-minute hotel price cuts where they simply want to fill a room for a day or two.
Anyway, functionally I wrote almost a fifth of a novel this weekend, and one that I wasn't feeling super on fire about; I'm feeling much better about it now that I've got some established plot going and I feel like I "know" the newer characters a bit better. (Also I'm enjoying writing Simon as someone who is absolutely entranced by his love interest and clueless that what he's feeling isn't mild antipathy because they met while fighting over ricotta.) So it was a big help, although if I were to put a budget line item in the Extribulum Press ledger for "writing staycation" it would wipe out my royalties surplus very quickly.
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doctorbunny · 2 days
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More serious summary of the livestream
Unfortunately I can't provide a full translation because the entire time I was watching in autistic excitement like 😊🥰🤩 whilst my brain melted out my ears and didn't pick up on a lot
Luckily, I have a feeling someone will get around to translating this stream eventually since they finally had the BGM on a lower volume so everyone was audible the whole time Without further ado:
We started with introductions seating order is Yamanaka, Yurina (Es' VA), Minami (Amane's VA), Ryouta (Kazui's VA) and DECO (who dyed his hair blonde) They each have one of the 4th anniversary acrylic stands in front of them The actors have their characters but Yamanaka has Haruka and DECO has Muu
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Yamanaka admitted to being a Haruka oshi/fan
Then Minami talks about being a Fuuta fan (she calls him cool) and she's handed the Fuuta stand and she pushes the Fuuta and Amane stand next to each other (and jokes about their height difference then imitates Fuuta going zenbu zenbu zenbu!)
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But then Yurina sticks her Es stand in between them to separate them
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And then they move the Amane stand next to the Kazui one and everyone coos
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Before moving Amane and Fuuta back together in front of Minami Then they basically just lift all of the stands up on to the table and continue on
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They discuss their thoughts on the trial
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Looking at who got voted inno and guilty Minami is happy Amane got inno but has no idea how Mikoto wasn't guilty They note that the audience wasn't very happy with Kotoko for beating up the other prisoners Then they give some thoughts on the MVs from Daisuki to Deep cover They get most excited talking about Cat and Purge March Kazui says that he was able to put the right emotions into Cat because he recorded the voice drama first Yurina and Minami actually caused the microphone to peak with their excited shrieks at one point (ow)
They answer some audience submitted questions One question was answered along the lines of "Be prepared" One was submitted in English and they tried to but couldn't read it Then they got a question (in Japanese) from someone from 韓国/South Korea [side note: I feel like the south korean milgram fandom has gotten more prominent recently, its always been there but it feels bigger than ever and that's pretty cool]
After audience questions they made a few announcements Some things we already knew, the gratte cafe crossover, the Kotoko line stickers, Earbuds are still on sale (and they're making badges and stuff based on the earbud promo art) the 4th anniversary art/acrylici stands literally in front of them Then some new things: Minigram LINE stamps (everyone was especially pleased for the Kazui XP stamp) There's going to be a part 2 to the Karaoke collab (no details yet other than its coming)
They also announce this year's perk for annual members [the pain of being an annual member but living outside of Japan so you can't get these 😭] Blank lamenated cards of the prisoner's interrogations and a whiteboard pen so you can write your own interro questions and answers They bring out the cards for Kazui and Amane and do some examples
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"Do you like cake?" "I don't eat it."
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"What did you have for lunch today?" "Gyudon." [a beef and rice dish]
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Then Minami just writes "Toilet paper" in katakana and everyone laughs (Then she writes Toilet paper rap/lap/wrap and I'm not sure what she means)
Most exciting is script books for the Hallucenation liveshow (scripts of the voice dramas and songs) The live show uses condensed versions of the voice dramas but this is the first time we'll have official transcripts of key moments to help check translations with
Then they start saying that T2 was hellish, but T3 is going to go beyond hell: They're going to send everyone to Super Hell And at this point my brain fries and overloads on eeby deeby memes as they all go back and forth talking about Super Hell
They all start doing their outros/saying goodbye
Yurina talks about upcoming challenges we have as guards meanwhile Yamanaka ominously holds the Haruka stand up in frame
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Then that's basically it, not much going on because a lot of stuff (like Hallucenation, the plushes, earbuds) came out right before the 4th anniversary
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Text
I've had a very fun and fruitful conversation with @allfearstofallto and she had some very strong reactions for a story about yandere Diluc and Tartaglia that has been marinating in my mind for a while now. I'll just give you a brief version of my idea.
You and the 11th Fatui Harbinger are to be wed. With your freedom stripped away from you and with your wedding date fast approaching, you are working tirelessly to escape the Harbinger's grasp.
However, even with your freedom stripped away, even if you have no autonomy on your own, there's an inkling in your heart in which you cannot hate your captor. He is far too kind and gentle towards you, the way in which he treats you makes your heart swell with a plethora of emotions.
But enough is enough.
You need to leave. Fast.
One evening, you act sweeter, more submissive than usual. Your fiancee eats it up and is delighted by this change in attitude. His happiness is evident because now things can proceed without a hitch. Don't worry darling, you won't be anywhere near his work. He'll keep you safe, fed and loved.
All he asks in return is to be in your heart. Love him. Love him, please. It's a hard request, a selfish one even, he knows this.
He can make it up to you. He can and he will.
He promises.
You kiss him in bed, telling him that you understand. Your eyes shift towards the hidden suitcase in the corner as you feel the drugs start to kick in. Tartaglia is fast asleep, and you finally taste the sweetness of freedom.
The man wakes up the next morning in a daze. The bed is empty and cold.
His heart shatters into a million pieces. He roars out your name like a wounded animal, his throat sore and bleeding from the pain.
He must find you.
Meanwhile, you made your way towards the City of Freedom.
You settle in, find a job, a place to live in. It's hard but you manage.
You ignore the lingering presence that you feel behind you when you're alone at night. You're making it all up, you keep telling yourself.
No one is following you.
One evening, you enter a cozy tavern. You order a drink and it is prepared by a handsome, albeit stoic bartender. You manage to get him to open up. He introduces himself as Diluc, the owner of the fine establishment in which you sat in.
How neat.
Due to various different factors, after a short while Diluc takes you in. He is patient and strict. It's an improvement.
You don't know about his ever growing obsession with you. You don't know about the endless sea of portraits he has of you. He keeps it all hidden well under wraps.
Regardless, Diluc is still only human. It's only natural that his jealousy would bubble up and rear in its ugly head from time to time.
Dawn Winery is in a way, forced to attend a massive social gathering. Diplomats from the North are everywhere and, of course, Tartaglia spots you in the crowd.
Even if his eyes were to be plucked out, he would always manage to recognize you.
Tensions rise and the danger of bloodlust reeks in the air. Much to his chagrin, Childe cannot simply just kill Diluc and be done with it.
He is being forced to play Mr Nice Diplomat.
Oh the horror, being stuck between these two.
Now, since this has the potential to be long as fuck, I was thinking of making it into a multiple part story. The best name I could come up with it so far was "A Song of Ice and Fire". I'm open to title names, if someone has better ideas. An important note to add would be that this would be a serious commitment for me as I haven't done a story like this in years. Chapter updates would probably take me a long time due to my job and potential lack of energy, but this idea has been in my brain for years now, which is a clear sign that I'm passionate about it. And, my question is - would you like for me to make this story come to life?
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dduane · 1 day
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What are your thoughts on companies like this that offer 'coaching services' for hopeful unpublished novelists?
This smells of scam to me but maybe I'm just a cynic:
Publishing Your Book
Query Letter Coaching/Editing – $550 per book (this includes two passes)
Synopsis Coaching & Editing – $750 per book (this includes two passes)
Proposal Coaching & Editing – $1,500 per book
Traditional Publishing Coaching – $200/hour (finding an agent, crafting your proposal, etc.)
Indie Publishing – $1000 (distribution to all platforms for optimal international exposure, guidance on pricing, blurb-writing, logistics, and keywords)
ISBNs for Indie Publishing – $150 per book format. Free if publishing through [the company selling these coaching services]
Briefly: before I got involved with any such operation, I'd want to talk to (multiple) people they'd worked with previously and find out what kinds of experiences they'd had. And in line with this, I'd be extremely cautious about any operation that wasn't run by professionals with a verifiable track record, and which wouldn't offer verifiable examples of feedback from people whose reality as non-sockpuppets could also be confirmed. And whom you could contact without having to go through the company in question.
On other issues: I'm looking kind of askance at some of those prices. (Here adding the disclaimer: I know people who do this kind of work out of a grounding of significant expertise and in good faith, and I'm not clear on what they're charging because I haven't really looked into it... not particularly needing it myself at this late stage in the game.)
At least part of the problem I'm having with the prices being charged in your example is based on the knowledge of how very much information of this kind is available free online. And yeah, there's the old chestnut about "The advice is worth what you've paid for it"... but that has sort of an unspoken negative corollary: "Except when you've paid for it and it nonetheless turns out not to have been worth much."
The trouble with the non-independent-publishing suggestions is that all of them deal with imponderables. Even if all the advice you purchase from those people at all those varied prices is absolutely right on the money, there's still no way to guarantee that any of it is going to lead to success in getting query letters, synopses or proposals actually looked at. Which puts this whole concept squarely in the nature of a gamble.
Not that luck doesn't have a role to play in a professional writing career. Sometimes you're just standing in the right place at the right time with a manuscript in your hands. But getting the idea that you can depend on that luck for any reason is unwise... as divine Fortuna is anciently famous for wandering all over the room, blowing on other folks' dice. (And if this makes me sound like I fall well down on the "Fortune Favors The Prepared" end of the spectrum: yeah, that.)
My advice would be to spend a good long while online, thoroughly researching all the free sites that have info to offer on all the traditional-publishing-facing topics. Then, after exhausting the available possibilities, if you still think you need to engage paid professional assistance... make inquiries among as many verifiable professionals as you can non-invasively query, before parting with any money at all.
As regards the indie-oriented fees: I'm finding those pretty steep. The prices for ISBNs in particular bother me. (Especially since in many places you can routinely buy packages of ten for about what these folks would charge you for two.) Yes, they're free if you publish with them: that sounds lovely. But publishers would normally buy many of those packages of ten. Or packages of a hundred: the more ISBNs you buy at once, the cheaper they get. And if you're paying the company for other services, who cares about the ISBNs? They're making money off you in different ways. Possibly equally overpriced ones.
So to finish: this is very much caveat emptor territory. There will inevitably be scammers out there, claiming their rates to be less than "bigger companies" are charging, but still too much. Therefore... advance only with utmost care.
...And adding this: @petermorwood glanced at the price list over my shoulder and said, "I wouldn't touch any of those with a barge pole."
At any rate: HTH!
...And now a word regarding our regrettably fickle non-sponsor, via Ol' Blue Eyes. :)
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skiiyoomin · 2 days
Note
Hey I just saw that your requests are open and the haikyuu brainrot is hitting me once more. Could I request some content energetic bbs Noya, Bokuto, and Hinata (separate) and the reader taking care of them when all that energy finally runs out and they crash? I'm in desperate need of fluff lmao
yes ma´am 🫡 some fluffy energetic bbys brainrot coming right up
am i procrastinating my exams to do this? yes, yes i am
warnings: nothing, just tooth rotting fluff
RULES !!
DO NOT COPY OR REPOST MY WORK PLEASE
REQUESTS: OPEN
NAVIGATION
WHO DO I WRITE FOR?
---------------------------------
Taking care of them when they run out of energy
Nishinoya Yuu
Noya is like a literal babyyy. He loves loves lovesss when you pamper him and baby him. Especially during those moments where all he needs is a little silence and your comfort cause he doesn´t have one single ounce of energy left. He loves crashing down on the sofa, his head on your lap and your fingers through his ginger hair.
"Long day?"
Your soft honey like voice drifts to his ears, and all he can manage to respond is a small low hum.
He feels like he absolutely won in life when you not only move away to prepare a warm bath for him, but you also slip inside the tub behind him and wrap your arms around his torso. He melts like puddy when your soft hands begin to massage his scalp while you make sure the shampoo reaches his roots, and in his mind, he questions if that was what heaven felt like.
You had to coax him into getting out of the tub after a long while passed, your skin pruned and the bath no longer as warm. Though honestly, Noya could´ve stayed like that forever, however, the image of you cuddled up under the safety and warmth of the bedsheets sounded far more tempting. So, with groggy movements, he stepped out and wrapped a towel around his waist.
He may be small, but he was not light, and in his dazed like state, he didn´t seem to remember as he all but plops down right on top of you. Were it any other day, you would´ve shoved him off, but the way his eyelids fluttered close and his lips seemed to be in a permanent pout were too cute. So, adjusting your position so you could at least breathe, you run your hand up and down his back, your other playing with his soft locks. And just like that, he was out like a light.
Bokuto Koutarou
You knew the second you started dating Bokuto, that you´d be in for a rollercoaster of emotions. You had become accostumed to his wide range of emtions that seemed to appear at the most sudden times. Nevertheless, there were days where his energy seemed to be on a constant low. He moved in slow sluggish motions and not a single thought seemed to pass through his mind.
You found out that one of his favorite things that you do at times like this is giving him a looong massage. His body would be flopped face down on the comfort of your bed while you oiled up his bare back. He´d expressed to you many times that he was convinced your hands were made by the very gods, because when they slowly massaged the tense muscled of his back, he felt like he was on cloud 9.
You´d make your way up until you reached his broad shoulders and neck. Small muffled groans would be heard from him every once in a while, but he´d mostly remain uncharacteristically quiet.
If he didn´t pass out from your massage, because trust me, he has passed out many times before, then you´d watch a random movie while he nuzzled into your warm body. His soft breaths tickled the sensitive skin of your neck and his buff arms wrapped around your body, like a bear engulfing you in a hug.
Every once in a while you´d press your soft lips to his forehead, or you´d run your fingers through his bicolored strands. And I can assure you that with a couple more sweet kisses, he´d be out like a light, his soft snores filling the silence of the room.
"I love you"
You whisper, pressing one last kiss to the crown of his head before you too, fall into deep slumber with your big baby in your arms.
Hinata Shoyo
If there´s one thing Shoyo loves more than anything in this world, it´s your cooking. And there´s nothing like your homemade food on a day where he can´t give his fullest.
He had spent the entire day jumping around, his energy at it´s peak. But the more it had dragged on the more he wished he could speed off back home and rest in your loving arms.
He was sprawled across the couch, his tired half lidded eyes boring into whatever was playing on the TV, he couldn´t even process anything. He feels the couch dip beside him, and when he turns his head, he finds you with a bowl of your homemade ramen in your hands. The steam wafted into the air and to his nostrils. He could already taste it in his toungue, making his stomach rumble.
However, he´s slightly surprised when you move the bowl away when he tries to reach out for it.
"Let me take care of you"
Is all you mutter. That´s how he finds himself curled up on the couch while you feed him the ramen, making sure to blow on the food each time you picked up a portion of it.
His heart fluttered when you pampered him this way. Or when you put away the bowl after he eats it all up and when you pepper slow kisses around his entire face. They werent rushed or overwhelming like they normally were. No, these were precise, like you were deliberately making sure to kiss every inch of his skin.
During these times, he absolutely needs to be the little spoon. He likes the feeling of being taken care of. The way your arms would wrap around his torso, your warm breath tickling the nape of his neck and making his spine shudder ever so slightly.
It´s in these moments where, as he´s drifting off to sleep with, he really feels an overwhelming sense of love and adoration for you
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chahnniesroom · 6 hours
Text
to have and to hold
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pairing: bang chan x female reader
summary: you don't think there's anything chan can do to make you love him more. chan continues to prove you wrong.
word count: 1.4k
warnings: mentions of pregnancy, lots of fluff!!
a/n: sorry it has been so long since i posted! i have been wanting to write this since that ep of return of superman where chan and felix took care of rowoon, it was so so sweet. also i'm so sorry but i did not edit this at all
till death do us part collection | read it on ao3 | masterlist
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“Do you think you’d ever want to have kids?” 
Your question breaks through the quiet dialogue of the show that you and Chan are watching. Behind you, you feel Chan freeze before he forces himself to relax and continue fiddling with your fingers.
Chan hesitates for a moment longer before answering.
“I don’t know,” he says, slowly and carefully. “I think that I’d want to eventually, but right now? Being an idol- It would be difficult. I mean, for anyone it’s hard, but especially with this career…”
“Do you like children?” you ask, curious even though you can anticipate his answer.
“Yes.” This time he replies immediately, although his voice is still cautious. He releases your hands from his hold and gently nudges your shoulders so that you twist to look at him. “Y/n- Do- Are you-”
“What?” you stare at him, not sure why he suddenly seems so worried.
“Are you pregnant?” he asks gently. “It’s fine if you are! We can totally work things out and I will 100% support you the whole time-”
“Oh!” You smack yourself in the forehead. “No! Definitely not! I was just thinking.” 
“Ah.” Chan slumps against the back of the couch, this time he’s actually relaxed. “Just thinking or- what brought this on?”
“I’m sorry,” you say hurriedly. “That must have been out of nowhere for you. No, it’s because my older sister’s wedding anniversary is coming up, the first one since she’s had a kid, so I wanted to let her go out without having to worry. I was wondering if you wanted to help me babysit?”
“I see,” Chan says, sounding relieved. “Your sister. Yes, I haven’t met Doyun yet, right? I’d love to help you take care of him.”
Your sister is delighted that you’ve offered to take Doyun for an evening and you quickly coordinate with Chan what day would work best. It’s not possible to babysit on your sister’s actual anniversary due to Chan’s schedules, but your availabilities line up on a Friday night the weekend after.
Chan is nervous leading up to it, which you find absolutely adorable. When you look over his shoulder one night, curious what he’s focusing so intently on, you find him scrolling through articles on interacting with babies as well as tips on baby-proofing an apartment.
Before your sister arrives, you work with Chan for a few hours transforming the open area of your apartment, placing pillows and draping blankets over sharp corners and making sure to keep any small objects out of reach. 
When the doorbell rings, Chan panics, popping his head out of the kitchen from where he’s been trying to figure out a way to prevent Doyun from being able to open the cabinets.
“We're not ready!” he says, eyes wide.
“What do you want to do, keep them waiting outside until you finish?” you joke, then pause when it looks like Chan is actually considering it. “Don't worry, I'll go let my sister in and you keep working on that. We'll be watching Doyunnie the whole time, so even if you can't work that out, it's fine.”
Your sister doesn't stay for very long. She hands Doyun off to you and assures both you and Chan that your place looks safe for a baby. After going through everything that is packed in the massive diaper bag that she’s leaving with you, she heads back home to get ready for her dinner.
Doyun has a short attention span and cycles between playing with a stuffed animal, a ball,
some plastic fruits and vegetables, and toy trains within the first hour. He is so adorable that you and Chan don't mind how much energy is required to keep him occupied. Luckily he's a fairly easygoing baby and hasn't fussed at all, although it did take a while for him to warm up to the two of you.
He's comfortable now, especially since Chan has started to spin the two of them around, hands firmly gripping Doyun’s torso. Doyun absolutely loves it, shrieking in excitement with his eyes crinkling. Even after a few minutes of the same thing, he never grows bored, just as thrilled everytime that Chan lifts him above his head. Although Doyun isn’t very heavy yet, after 15 minutes there’s sweat visible on Chan’s forehead and he’s starting to get out of breath.
“How about we take a bit of a break? Do you want to read?” Chan sits Doyun down against some pillows and rummages through the bag that your sister packed, finding some of the books that she included.
Chan hands the books over and although Doyun accepts both of them, he throws them aside and instead clumsily reaches up towards Chan, clearly asking to be picked up again. Chan pretends to groan and complain as he lifts Doyun back up.
“Aww,” you coo. “He really likes you.”
“And I really like him,” Chan says, spinning Doyun around. “I just wish I hadn’t gone to the gym earlier today, I didn’t realise what a workout this would be!”
Eventually Doyun grows tired, no longer begging Chan to continue. This time when Chan settles him on the ground, he just looks around curiously before crawling up to Chan and grabbing at his curls.
“He’s so small,” Chan marvels. “Look at his little fingers!”
He reaches out towards Doyun, who immediately wraps his hand around Chan’s index finger and pulls it towards his mouth.
 It's comical to see the difference in size between their hands and Chan visibly melts, allowing Doyun to gum at his fingers, quickly covering them in a sheen of saliva.
“Are you hungry Doyunnie?” Chan asks. “It’s almost time for dinner, let’s see what your auntie prepared for us.”
By the time Doyun is set up in a high chair with a bib on, you’ve finished cooking. Dinner for Doyun is simple, consisting of steamed vegetables, tofu, rolled omelette, rice, and a bit of fruit. You’ve also used the same ingredients plus a few additions to make kimchi stew for you and Chan.
Chan is distracted the whole meal, prioritising feeding Doyun and wiping his face clean in between bites over eating his own food. It's a futile effort since Doyun seems more interested in smearing the food around rather than getting it into his mouth.
When you're finished with your food, you switch spots with Chan and coax Doyun into eating the last few bites he has left while Chan scarfs down his own meal. 
After dinner, you carry Doyun into the bathroom and start filling the bathtub with a shallow layer of warm water. He watches with wide eyes as you add bubble bath that changes the colour of the water to a deep blue and creates a thick cover of bubbles. After washing the dishes and wiping down the kitchen, Chan joins the both of you just as you’re rinsing suds out of Doyun’s hair.
Cleaned and dressed in a fuzzy onesie with tiny bear ears poking out from the hood, Doyun struggles to stay awake for the rest of the evening. It’s obvious that he’s tired, he’s starting to get cranky and his blinks get longer and longer, but he stubbornly continues to play. After his third time nodding off while slotting plastic shapes into a cube, Chan picks him up and walks him around the room, rocking him slightly while humming a melody that you can’t recognize.
When your sister comes to pick up Doyun, he's sprawled out on Chan’s chest, deeply asleep. A line of drool drops from his open mouth to form a wet spot on Chan’s shirt, but Chan doesn’t seem to mind, staring at Doyun with stars in his eyes.
That night, right when you're about to fall asleep, Chan speaks up. His arms are wrapped around you and you can feel his breath against the back of your neck. 
“I think,” he says quietly. “I think I want kids. Not now, I still have the same concerns as before, but in the future? I want it.”
“You did so well with Doyunnie, it looked so natural,” you agree. “I think you would be a great dad.”
“Only if you’re there by my side,” he corrects.
“There’s nowhere I’d rather be.”
till death do us part collection | read it on ao3 | masterlist
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otdiaftg · 14 hours
Text
WHAT'S NEXT:
The out pouring of love for this blog has swept me off my feet. I knew the logic behind the follower count, but this weekend proved to me without a shadow of a doubt just how much this fandom cherishes these characters and this story.
I am overwhelmed with adoration towards every. single. one. of you.
I took the weekend to finally recoup after the whirlwind of this past year but wanted to take a moment now to answer some of the questions I've seen pop up and to inform you all of what my plans are for what's next.
FREQUENTLY ASKED QUESTIONS:
WILL YOU CONTINUE THE ACCOUNT THIS YEAR?
This took me a long time to ponder and I wanted to make sure I was in the correct headspace to answer it. Short answer: No.
Long answer: All For The Game is near and dear to my heart. And the reason I began this account was because the dates for 2023 matched that of the dates they were meant to be in 2006. To continue it in the year 2024 would mean the dates would be completely wrong and a lot more logistics would have to occur beforehand.
But also-- I'm not the best when it comes to technology, especially when it comes to BOTS so every post that was published was typed out, formatted and scheduled by hand by me. I did not have help. I did not have proofreaders, or editors, or managers. I contacted all the artists myself, sorted through every single page of the artists to find matches to the story, read and re-read the books for exact or guesstimation of dates/times, and made a hell of a lot of typos on the way through all that.
There was probably an easier way that I could have done all this. But I didn't/don't know it. So that all boils down to: It’s a long and tiring process.
Don't get me wrong, it was worth all the hours. And all the sleepless nights I had getting everything done and out. I already thanked my support network, but without my wife and my best friend being there to make me another cup of coffee, walk our dog, do the chores and generally make sure I didn't crumble from the pressure -- none of this would have happened.
So, putting myself through that again, after everything that has happened this year alone-- felt like it would cheapen the experience I had when the dates won't even match.
That being said.... 2034 isn't that far away. >__>
WILL YOU BE DOING AN OTDITSC?
Short answer: No.... sorry.
Long answer: As stated, it is VERY hard to organize what and how I did. HOURS spent researching, organizing, scheduling, etc. Time spent away from my family and other hobbies. NOT time I regret (need to keep prefacing that) but time I want back now. At least for a little bit.
It also doesn't sit right for me to start an OTDITSC when I know some people are still waiting for their copies. There are so many of us out here (as I've come to find out) and I don't want to exclude people's enjoyment and connection that this account gives. I also feel like the more posts about TSC out there, the harder it is for those who are (lets say) waiting for the physical copies to block/mute spoilers. We can say a tag is enough, but this is the internet. And that's not always true.
And lastly, personally, TSC is still SO VERY NEW. It's not even complete yet and we don't 100% know when the next one will be published. I don't want to start something, get to the end of the timeline, and than have a huge gap between posts that will potentially be moments in the second book. It doesn't feel fair to their story, to myself, or to the followers of this account to have incorrect information for something I love so dearly. If I'm doing it. I want to do it right.
SO, WHAT'S NEXT?
Well. A lot. For me personally, as well as this account. I don't want to leave everyone in such a finite way. I love this fandom. I love its art and writings and the abundance of talent and joy that it exudes.
So first, for myself, as well as those artists who agreed to help with this account, I want to post, for the next 40 days Artist Highlights (that means this account will still be active until Friday, May 24th).
Every day, I will post about an Artist and the work that I wanted to post but couldn't fit in. I've said it before, and I'll say it again, these artists are the reason this account thrives. Art, in a multitude of forms, speaks in a way words can not. And these artists prove that.
I'm excited to show them off for a couple more weeks at least. They are all wonderful people.
AND, FINALLY:
To also tie us over, I am opening both my personal account as well as this account to questions.
Questions regarding the process, the story, the best movie out in theaters, whatever. I will be answering your questions (as fast as I can) until that last Artists Highlight day (Friday, May 24th). After this day, I will leave the questions answered up for a week, and then remove/delete them from this account. I want to make this more of an archive of sorts and will be updating the Timeline Page as this progresses as well, so you can move freely within the timeline.
Keep in mind that I am only one person, have a family and a full-time job-- so answers may be sporadic, but I will answer them.
This has truly been such a pleasure. And whether I get questions or not, I see you and I appreciate you. I hope your life is filled with everything you ever want, everything you need, and that you never let it go.
🦊 🧡- Kelysium
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seraphimnoir · 2 days
Text
don't call me | S. REID
summary: spencer finds himself on the verge of relapsing, surrounded by symbols of neglect and chaos around him — in a moment of desperation he calls his only hope.
warnings: mentions of spencer's addiction, betrayal, non-bau!reader, spencer is on break(?), fem!reader, reader only referred to as 'her' & 'she'
genre: angst
authors note: first fic wooeeee yeah! I hope you enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing it. the ending kinda sucks but WHATEVER!!!!!!!! by da way not proofread (may have grammatical errors LOL)
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There were piles of brown snow on the pavement, scattered by the cars, but on Saturday at noon it rained, the drops immediately froze, and the whole city became a frozen palace. Spencer went out to buy newspapers at the little booth next to the dimly lit café, he narrowed his eyes as he realized that he didn't want to go home — to the crumbs on the table, to the unmade bed, the coffee-drenched Physics textbooks, the scattered mail and the unfinished note for his mother. He jumped over an ice block on the sidewalk with newspaper in hand and made his way into the café. At this hour it was empty, only the bearded man behind the counter and the what looked like a ten year old Siamese cat were present.
He made his way to the counter and cleared his throat, gathering the pennies from his bag to pay. "Black coffee, please." he said as he looked at the man. The barista silently nodded as he put in place the coffee cup he was cleaning, his eyes fluttering towards the coffee machine. Spencer placed the coins at the counter as he waited for the coffee.
He looked at his watch. Seemingly lost in thought for a second — but his mind quickly rebooted as the carton cup of steaming black coffee was placed Infront of him. He gave a weak smile and took in the cup carefully. He didn't wait for the change, nor the receipt. He lunged out of the cafe. He looked at the cup of coffee, a look of disgust overcame him as he realized what he had ordered. He never drank black coffee, it was always too bitter for him. But today he hoped that the dark chocolate charcoal would drown out the urge to get his fix.
He passed by an old black phonebooth with plastered obituaries, campaign posters and scribbled graffiti. He coughed almost silently and looked at the numbers on it, some of them almost invisible. He picked up the receiver and dialed the six digits. She picked up on the third ring. "Good day," he said. "is this the library?" he continued, his voice calm and collected.
"Who's this? Spencer, is that you?" she said, as she propped up her receiver with her shoulder, her hands busy with the stack of papers.
Spencer was silent. He shifted the receiver to his left hand, took a sip of the bitter coffee and sighed. "Where are you calling from?" She asked, not a tinge of emotion in her voice.
"From the city" Spencer answered and squeezed his cup a little tighter. He looked down at his feet, his hairs drifting to his forehead. She were silent, only the clicking of the pen and the papers could be heard. "Are you here?" he stuttered out. A sigh escaped her lips "Yes, I'm here."
"Please, let's see eachother." his voice guilty and full of desperation. the grip on the cup and the hot liquid inside made his hand burn slightly. "Now?" she questioned, her voice monotone.
"Now." he continued. And he realized why he shouldn't have called. If she told him "no", he would not bear it. He had lasted so long with no word from her, but now he was going to break down. He moved the receiver slightly away. Her voice came to his ears very far away. "What did you say?" he asked nervously. the wind hit his neck, making the strands of hair on it stand up.
"Spencer, we cannot. Don't call me again, okay?" she said, her voice hitting the last word. Spencer stood at the photobooth — dumbfounded, as if time had stopped. The awkward silence was followed up by "Hello? Are you there?"
"Okay," Spencers voice cracked. He hung up the phone. The street was brown and dirty. The facades of the buildings were wet. The buzzing of the city continued. Taxis were waiting down at the intersection. He imagined that a huge bouquet was in his hand and not a — now almost cold coffee, he imagined that it was a summers day, and he was going to her house — like he used to do after he came back from a case. He roamed the streets as he finished his coffee, throwing away the carton cup in an almost overflowing trashcan, his mind re-enacting different memories. But the pulsing in his veins and the voice on the back of his head couldn't stop thinking of the needle — the one thing that could save him from his misery.
His hand came in contact with the door handle, his keys wiggling vigorously in the keylock. He entered his apartment and took off the purple wool scarf that he threw on the couch, the bag was left on the table. He sighed and stood upright by the window and looked out. It was dusk, it had started to snow again.
His heart sank further. The empty ache that lingered deep within him roared harder. The craving that refused to be ignored — it called out his name. He sank to the floor, clutching his cardigan as tears began falling down.
The snow outside continued to shed, the streets soon were hugged by a new icy embrace of the snow. The buzzing on the streets continued. The world didn't end today.
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yuyu1024 · 18 hours
Text
Babe
Pairings: S.coups × y/n
Genre/tags: protective/possessive bf
Warning: 🔞🔞🔞 fluff but smut, unprotected sex, pet names, cursing, semi public, handjob
~~~ [lmk if i miss anything]
Words: 3k
Disclaimers:
- this story is just made up
- english is not my first language, please be nice 😊
A/N: looong time no post. ✨️I was away... got sick and mentally not doing okay... and I dont think im 100% okay yet...Its been hard but still trying my best :)
i might be coming back to writing here and there... but not consistent. Hopefully you understand...
meaning, i will be a 🐌 in updating nor posting and won't be online mostly. 🖤
(i cant promise i can jump back to the Yoongi/Suga series yet also sorry 😭 hopefully one day but not soon.)
Me writing... is depending if im okay.
Also, Thank you for the kind messages in DMs. I really do appreciate them...even tho i don't reply 🖤 pls know its very helpful.
Thank you.
P.S its been a long time since i wrote anything so.... rusty.🥲 this is my just trying to get back to it.
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Seungcheol, your boyfriend, texted you to meet him at school. Which surprised you the second you read it because it has been weeks since he went to school.
He has been doing special online classes these past weeks as he can't walk. Yet. He slipped while playing soccer with the boys two months ago causing an injury on his left leg. It was very painful to watch him yell in pain during that game. It was supposed to be just a fun game with his friends and you and their other friends watching but yeah, accidents happen.
"What are you doing here?" You gasp the second you enter the University clinic and saw your boyfriend sitting and chatting with the school doctor.
"Babe." He smiles and opens his arm, asking for a welcome hug
"Babe!" You squeal and immediately run and hugged him tightly.
"I missed you." He mumbles lightly lifting you off the floor even he's sitting on the clinic's bed.
He never lost his strength.
"Ditto." You say and kissed him on his cheek before letting go. "Wait... why are you here?" You ask again. "He can go back to school now?" You turn to ask the doctor behind you
"He can. But I still suggest no." He folds the folder his holding and sits down on his desk. "He can walk now with crutches easily yes... but... going up and down... walking building to building to classes...." doctor shakes his head
"I'm just here to visit, babe." Cheolie says caressing your back. "To report my health to him... to let know the team..."
"Oh."
"I'm sorry..." he press his lips together and giving you an apologetic look.
"I'll leave you two to talk... I have to go on a meeting now in the faculty. Just let the nurse know when you leave okay? So she can assist you with the wheel chair."
"Okay, doc. Thank you."
And as soon as the doctor leaves and shut the door close behind him, Seungcheol immediately grabs you by the waist, pull you close to his body and leans in to fully kiss you.
It feels rushed at the beginning but as soon as you find the perfect spot to lean your body weight to his, it felt smooth and just sensational. You even opened your mouth completely to let his tongue explore you.
You two haven't kissed for awhile. The rent is due.
"I missed you so much." He whisper as he pulls away to take a breather.
"This is the longest we've been away from each other..." you say as you straighten your stand
"Yeah... I got busy healing..."
"And I got busy at school... and at home..." you answer as you sit down beside him. "How are you feeling at the moment?"
"Good....well.. better now that I've kissed you." He smirks and plants a tiny kiss on your temple
"Babe..." you lean on his shoulder
"You know you always make me feel good..." he chuckles. "Also... Doc said my leg is healing pretty good..."
"That's good to hear..." you stand up once again. "So... can I--"
And before you could ask him another question about visiting him soon at home Seungcheol kisses you on your cheek and then on the back of your hand.
"Thank you for always calling me... every night... making sure to check on me... give me updates at school and being an understanding girlfriend. Even though you are tired yourself."
"I didn't do that much." You say holding his hand. "If only I could visit you personally I would..."
But you couldn't. It's not like he leaves far away from you. It's just that you wanted him to just rest. You know how he is when he sees you. He gets excited and acts everything is fine even though he is in pain.
He would probably force himself to get up when you visit him. It's kind og his thing to show off he is strong. Especially to you. He is your alpha lover.
"No...babe. just you calling has saved me from a lot of bad moods and not doing my therapies because... I'm not in the mood." He kisses your hand again.
"Well I'm glad... I could help..." you say smiling.
"And also..." he then bites his lower lip whilst smiling. You already know what he's about to say with those cheeky smirks.
"Hush..." you cover his mouth with your hand, scared that he might say it outloud and the nurse from behind the door might hear. "That's for us only..." you whisper.
He is referring to the video call sessions you do every now and then. To help him when he is... sad and horny.
"You promised... no one should know..."
"Of course..." he murmurs, his mouth is still covered by your hand. "The images are for my eyes to see and for my dick to feel only." He adds and then playfully licks your palm, making you jump a little.
"Hey!" You slap him on his shoulder
He is grinning so much. He is enjoying your reactions. "You're so adorable being shy..." he puts his arm around your waist, securing you between his legs. "My shy little fairy..." he mumbles just before he kisses you again.
You don't deny him of any sort of making out. Even at the clinic. Why woulf you? You missed him so bad too.
So bad that even his hands is skimming your body and even lifting your short A-Line skirt, exposing your bum, just to squeeze it is fine. Perfectly fine.
"Wait." He pauses and looks you in the eyes. "You are wearing a skirt this short... with no protective shorts under?"
"Hmm?" You look at him, confused for a second. "Oh."
He is yout alpha, yes. And one trait of him that is very dominant is him being protective of you. He does not like anyone hurting you, being mean to you and most especially drooling over you. You are his and only his.
"What you mean oh?" He raises a brow. "Well? Why aren't you wearing one?"
You don't have a good excuse. You just forgot. Well... you have been forgetting since he have been away.
"Y/N..."
"You're now calling me by name...." you move back away a little. "I'm sorry... I have no excuse..."
"What if some maniac sees you? When you go up stairs? Or the elevator in the media building? You know its glass right? They can see... what if wind blows and..." he sighs, frustrated. "You know how most guys are."
"I know... I'm really sorry." You pout. "I didn't purposely forget it..."
You see the change in his mood. He is very possessive of you so you know that just the idea of any guy looking at you because they find you cute or have interest of being close to you and whatever, he's already on guard.
He sighs again and also he's already grabbing his crutches.
"Leaving already?" You say in the softes tone.
"Yeah..." he stands up and calls on the nurse for assistance.
"Okay..." you lower your gaze.
You are not sure how to tame your boyfriend since this time you know you are at fault for forgetting and breaking a promise you told him after he was told to stay at home.
You stand up and sling your bag over your shoulder. "Just... call me when you get home."
"I will not call you." He says as he sits down on the wheel chair. "You're coming home with me."
"Wait. What?" You ask
The nurse enters the room and greets the two of you.
"Ready to go home?" The nurse asks
"Yes." Seungcheol smiles at her. "I have a scheduled therapy this afternoon..."
"Oh... I see... goodluck then." She says as she helps to push your boyfriend
"Y/N..." he calls your name out again.
This is the second time he called you by name. He is clearly not okay with the skirt situation. This never happened before.
***
You both arrived at his parent's house. They welcomed you and hugged you even. They thanked you for being a support system for their son even though physically you can't come because, well, they know how their son acts around you.
It's not a secret that their son is so in love with you that he's very clingy and trying to act cool and such.
"I already made food for the two of you so just reheat it if you decide to eat later."
"Oh. Thank you Mrs. Choi." You say
"It's nothing dear... also... thank you for being his care taker for tonight... we will enjoy our night on out staycation at the city." His mother says
You are stunned to hear what Mrs. Choi just said. You can't react beside just smiling and nodding. "Ah... ahm... don't worry about us... I'm going to take good care of him."
"Thank you, again." Mr. Choi says.
"We'll get going now... see you tomorrow afternoon, dear." She says to her son who is sitting in the sofa drinking his cola.
"Have fun, Mom and Dad!" He waves at them
And as soon the door shuts and you hear the car engine from outside.
"What the fuck was that?" You stomp you way towards him. "Care taker... tonight?? Babe?"
Nonchalantly he answers. "You will be staying for the night here with me... until tomorrow..."
"Why?"
"Why not?" He looks at you with a coldest stare. "Do you have any other plans? Are you meeting with anyone?"
"No..."
"And then... stay...."
"But... my parents..."
"I already told them... they are fine with it."
"When?"
"I called them earlier... before I texted you to come to the clinic."
You are in complete shock. "Cheolie..." you whine
"Now, you're calling me by name?" He raises a brow. "Why are you acting like that? It's like you don't want to stay with me."
"That's not it."
"Then what?"
You sigh. You are lost for words.
Yes you should be happy you are spending time with your boyfriend but he could've told you. You would say yes if he asked or told you.
You are just stunned maybe or confused with him doing this too since he's been being snappy at you since earlier.
"Whatever." You mumble throwing your bag to the floor and just sitting down at the chair opposite of where he's sitting.
Now you are the one in the bad mood.
"I still have the clothes and undergarments you left from last time..." he then says in a much calmer tone.
"Okay." You answer not looking at him.
You are not mad at him. You are just not happy with what he did. He probably wanted to surprise you with the idea earlier but since it got ruined during your clinic make out session. Now things are...
"Babe." He calls you
You turn your head to look at him. He looks serene now.
"Can you please come here..." he says
You get up and make your way to him, to sit down beside him.
"Not there." He says holding on to your wrist and leading you to move somewhere else. "Here..." he gestures for you to sit on top of him.
"But... your leg..."
"I can manage..." he breathes and then tugs you down so he could kiss you, cupping your face with one hand.
Your hands are now on his chest for balance support. You tried pulling away from the kiss but
"Sit..." he says in between the kiss.
And you do as he says. Kneeling down on the sofa, legs spread between his thighs, you sit down on him and slowly put your arms around his neck.
"Cheolie..." your lips part ways as you spoke and he tries to chase the kiss again but you bite your lips together. "Wait..."
"Why...?" He pouts
"What are you doing?"
"What do you mean?" He runs his hands from your legs to your thighs and then underneath your skirt.
"You were just so cold to me... not even talking to me like I'm your girlfriend... and now you're kissing me and touching me..."
He throws his head back for a second and then sighs. "Babe, I'm sorry.... I was... well..."
"I said I'm sorry about the skirt... Don't worry. I will just wear pants starting on monday...."
"You sure?"
"Yeah... I promise." You kiss the tip of his nose. "I will just wear skirts when I'm with you."
"Really?" He raises a brow with matching smirk, biting his lower lip.
"Yeah..." you move your hips forward knowing what this tiny move will do to him. "I know you like to have easy access with me when we're together..." you softly say
He grunts as he feel you move a bit more. Rocking your hips over his erection that's sort of protected by his black jogging pants.
"I know what you're doing..." he hums
"And I know you like... what I'm doing..."
His smile goes ear to ear. "You're lucky I can't stand on my own yet... If I could..."
"What will you do?"
"Carry you over my shoulders and spread you on top of my bed..."
"And...?" You put your forehead to his.
"And...fuck you 'till dawn..."
Just the thought made you horny and wanting him. But since he can't do what he usually does to you, you decide to handle this on your own.
"You can still fuck me..." you say, grinning. "We have all night till tomorrow to find a way... a position you want me to be in."
"Fucking hell, babe." He grunts, sounding excited and turned on.
You adjust your position, making sure you can access him easily. Him meaning his long veiny length that's already leaking.
"Shit! Ah!" His mouth drops the second you hold onto him. His eyebrows is showing how he's loving the way you stroke and pump him. "Babe..." he moans. "Babe... aaaaahhh..." he throws his head back, his hands on his hair, trying to hold on to reality coz he is floating in heaven right now.
"Should I... let the tip touch me?"
"Touch... you?" He looks at you, brows furrowed from the high.
You already removed your panties off without him noticing.
"Yes... like this...." you then adjust your position back on top of him and lowered yourself just enough for the tip of his dick feel your entrance.
"Babe, fuck!" He snarls throwing his head back. "Your so damn wet already..."
You let him feel the wetness for awhile before you ease him in you.
"Holy... shiiiiit!"
"Ngggeeeaaah..." you breathe in as you suck him in whole.
"You're doing great babe." He pushes the hair off your face. "Don't rush it... just... feel it... feel me..."
When he's completely in you, you didn't move. You just hugged your man and took a breather.
"I can't believe my little fairy is being so daring..."
"Because I want to give you what you want... what you need..." you mumble on his neck.
"Babe, you know I can wait till I'm healed and ready to fuck you..."
"I know..." you look him in his eyes, "but I miss it too..."
"You do?"
You nod. "Us video calling... while we... you know... is not enough... I thought it was enough... but when I saw you earlier... I really did missed you more than I can imagine."
"You miss my dick?" He tease
"Babe!" You hide your face on his neck again.
"Ugh..." he suddenly moans. "Wow. I didn't know you get tigher when I tease you."
Seungcheol starts to move his hips a little, to ease dipper into you.
"Ah..." you exhale shakily. "Cheolie...hmmm...."
"You like that?"
"I do."
Then you start to move yourself.
You leaned back a little, pushing forward and pulling backward in motion to meet his slow but deep thrusting.
"Cheolie..." you cry his name as you feel like reaching your climax.
"Just let it go..."
"Fuck!" You throw your head back, panting and shaking. "Come with me..." you say, "come....with me..." you clentch more down there, making him feel the tightness.
"But babe..." biting on his lips, hissing and trying to control himself. "We don't have condoms."
"I don't care." You lean in for a sloppy kiss. "Come with me. I need to see you... melt with me..."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes."
"Babe..."
"Please..." you beg, "I want to feel it..."
"Fuck it!" He snarls as he goes to squeeze your ass under your skirt as he picks up the pace with you
It's amazing how strong he is. Even with an injured leg he could lift his hips to meet yours.
"Aaah!!" You moan as loudly as you can as you felt something in you pop.
He growls as soon as feel his length starts to release and feel the warmth in you.
"Fuck babe..." he is panting. "Our first time you being on top..."
Embarassed after your orgasm, you hug your man and hide your face again. "I only did what I know and can..."
"You did amazing... your handjob is what I needed to get me into the a frenzy." Then he kisses the top of your head. "I fucking love you... whatever you do... makes me love you even more..."
"I love you too..." you go for a kiss again. But then burst into a giggle when you felt him move. "You are still in me... I can feel you."
A smile spread over his lips, "Maybe we should continue this on my bed. I can do other positions and pump more in you if you want."
You grin, blushing. "I'd love to."
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elrxiel · 21 hours
Text
"Bonus chapter ended Elriel!"
But here's the thing - it didn't have to.
If SJM had a change of heart during writing ACOSF or even before and decided that Gwyn and Az will be the final couple, she could have easily simply ignored writing anything about Azriel's feelings towards Elain. She could have not written about stolen glances - she could have written a scene where they have a conversation without any subtext, just a friendly encounter so the readers would get a clear sign - they are just friends, they are not interested in each other in any way. She could have switched the narrative - making Az behave towards any other character the way he behaves with Elain and making Elain not care, not look at him, not practically dying for him to kiss her.
But she did not.
Instead she wrote paragraphs saying Azriel cannot stand the smell of the mating bond between Elain and Lucien (which is alarming on its own, given the fact that he should not be able to smell it in the first place), that this man spent the last year almost sleepless because he keeps thinking about that girl and the gift she picked for him. She wrote Azriel questioning the Cauldron itself and Elain willing to risk it all even tho her mate was sleeping upstairs. SJM said directly with all of these "look, those two WANT each other, those scenes in previous books DID indicate that there is a mutual wanting between them".
Place yourself as an author for a second - would you really spend three books placing hints and scenes foreshadowing a couple only to "end" them in the bonus chapter, which most of the readers won't even know exist? Would you, knowing that you plan for other couples to be an endgame, wrote about things that literally point that those two characters are so into each other they don't give a single fuck about bonds and religion? Would you write another male guessing something only a mate should be able to guess, the same male being the only one noticing the woman is missing and going on a suicidal mission to get her back? Would you write "you came for me"? Would you write a full scene of this woman emerging from the shadows (the literal power of said male), using the blade he let touching only her? Would you write her buying gifts for him but not for any other man?
And finally, if you plan to make those two end up with different characters anyway, would you really write them like that? Az being the person pining for someone for 500 years and being the one knowing for ignoring orders, only to slowly develop feelings towards someone else who wants him back, would suddenly forget about it and move to a new girl in a heartbeat just because somebody said so? Elain being the person who stated blankly "I don't want him" indicating to her mate, being someone who shall wed for love, suddenly deciding "yes, you know what, I don't want this man who showed me nothing but kindness and who was the only one who actually saw and listened, who saved my life and then gave me a weapon to defend myself, I'm gonna be with my mate now, even tho I'm shrinking with discomfort whenever I'm near him". Even if it fits your fantasies, it does not fit the way characters were written. And at the end of the day, it's not the fantasies that matter. It's what has been written and given us to read and see ourselves.
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