#I literally just say everything I think on here

[jessiethewitchzard]

Seeing @thydungeongal constantly wrestling with people interpreting her posts about D&D in ways that seem completely alien to me has convinced me that there are actually multiple completely distinct activities both being referred to as "playing D&D" Before we begin, I want to stress that I'm not saying one of these groups is Playing The Game Wrong or anything, but there seems to be a lot of confusion and conflict caused by people not being aware of the distinction. In fact, either one works just fine if everyone's on the same page. So far, I think I've identified at least two main groups. And nobody seems to realize the distinction between these groups even exists. The first group of people think of "Playing D&D" as, well, more or less like any other board game. Players read the whole rulebook all the way through, all the players follow the instructions, and the gameplay experience is determined by what the rules tell each player to do. This group thinks of the mechanics as, not exactly the *whole* game, but certainly the fundamental skeleton that everything else is built on top of. People in the second group think of "Playing D&D" as referring to, hanging out with their friends, collaboratively telling a story inspired by some of the elements in the rulebooks, maybe rolling some dice to see what happens when they can't decide. This group thinks of the mechanics of the game as, like... a spice to sprinkle on top of the story to mix things up. (if you belong to this second group, and think I'm explaining it poorly, please let me know, because I'm kind of piecing things together from other people saying things I don't understand and trying to reverse engineer how they seem to be approaching things.) I think this confusion is exacerbated by the fact that Wizards of the Coast markets D&D as if these are the same thing. They emphatically are not. the specific rules laid out of the D&D rulebooks actually direct players to tell a very specific kind of story. You can tell other stories if you ignore those rules (which still counts as "playing D&D" under the second definition, but doesn't under the first)And I think people in both groups are getting mad because they assume that everyone is also using their definition. For example, there's a common argument that I've seen play out many times that goes something like this:

A: "How do I mod D&D to do [insert theme here]?" B: "D&D is really not built for that, you should play [other TTRPG] that's designed for it instead" A: "But I don't want to learn a whole new game system!" B: "It will be easier to just learn a whole new system than mod D&D to do that." A: "whatever, I'll just mod D&D on my own" And I think where this argument comes from is the two groups described above completely talking past each other. No one understands what the other person is trying to say. From A's perspective, as a person in the second group, it sounds like A: "Anyone have some fun inspirations for telling stories about [insert theme here]?" B: "You can't sit around a table with your friends and tell a story about that theme! That's illegal." A: "But we want to tell a story about this theme!" B: "It's literally impossible to do that and you're a dumb idiot baby for even thinking about it." A: "whatever, jerk, I'll figure it out on my own."

--- Whereas, from B's perspective, the conversation sounds like A: "How do I change the rules of poker to be chess, and not be poker?" B: "uhhh, just play chess?" A: "But I already know how to player poker! I want to play poker, but also have it be chess!" B: "what the hell are you talking about? What does that even mean. They're completely different games." A: "I'm going to frankenstein these rules together into some kind of unplayably complex monster and you can't stop me!" ---

So both people end up coming away from the conversation thinking the other person is an idiot. And really, depending on how you concieve of what it means to "play D&D" what is being asked changes considerably. If you're only planning to look through the books for cool story inspiration, maybe borrow a cool little self contained sub-system here or there, then yeah, it's very possible to steal inspiration for your collaborative story from basically anywhere. Maybe some genres are kind of an awkward fit together, but you can make anything work with a little creativity.

If, however, you are thinking of the question in terms of frankensteining two entire board games together, then it becomes a massively difficult or even outright nonsensical idea. For example, for skill checks, the game Shadowrun has players roll a pool of several d6 at once, then count up how many rolled above a target value to see how well a character succeeded at a task. The whole game is full of specific rules about adding or removing dice from the pool, effects happening if you roll doubles, rerolling only some of the dice, and all sorts of other things that simply do not translate to rolling a single d20 for skill checks. On a basic level, the rules of the games work very differently. Trying to make them compatible would be much harder than just learning a new game from scratch. Now, neither of these approaches is exactly *wrong*, I guess, but personally, I find the rules of TTRPGs to be fascinating and worth taking the time to engage with all the weird little nuances and seeing what shakes out. Also, the first group, "TTRPG as fancy board game" is definitely the older and more widespread one. I kind of get the impression that the second group largely got into D&D through actual play podcasts, but I don't have any actual data to back that up. So, if you're in the second group, who thinks of D&D as basically a context for collaborative storytelling first and a game second, please let me know if I'm wildly misunderstanding how you approach D&D. Because I'm pretty sure it would save us a whole lot of stupid misunderstandings.

[rafecameronssl4t]

Tennis || Rafe Cameron x fem!reader

MASTERLIST

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” Sarah’s voice is laced with disbelief, her eyes wide as they fixate on a distant point behind you.

“What?” you ask, lowering your racquet and turning to follow her gaze. The unmistakable roar of a motorbike engine grows louder, reverberating through the air. A sleek black bike speeds towards you, its rider’s identity obscured by a matte black helmet.

“Rafe, what are you doing here?” you ask, a smile tugging at your lips as you step forward. Rafe’s eyes soften as he approaches you. “I just wanted to check on you,” he says, his voice low and sincere. “Make sure everything’s good.”

Sarah crosses her arms, her earlier shock giving way to irritation. “Seriously, Rafe? You literally saw her this morning. Can’t you let her breathe?”

Rafe’s smirk fades slightly, his expression hardening. “I don’t remember asking for your opinion, Sarah,” he retorts coldly. His focus shifts back to you, his gaze intense but filled with affection. “So, who’s winning?”

You grin and point to yourself. “Me, obviously.” Rafe’s smirk returns, his eyes glinting with pride. “Atta girl,” he says, his tone filled with admiration.

Sarah lets out an exaggerated gag, rolling her eyes. “Oh my god, you two are nauseating,” she jokes, trying to mask her amusement with disdain.

Rafe chuckles, his gaze still fixed on you. “So, are you coming to Topper’s party later tonight?” You chuckle—you knew knew Rafe too well—shaking your head slightly. “Are you asking me or telling me to go?” you smirk up at him, a hand coming up your face to shield the sun from your eyes as Rafe takes the chance to peek down at your cleavage from your sports bra.

Rafe’s smirk deepens, a familiar glint in his eye. “What do you think?” he says, his tone playful but leaving little doubt about his intentions. You laugh, feeling a mix of exasperation and warmth. You glance at Sarah who’s already staring at you before looking back at Rafe. “I’ll be there.”

Rafe’s expression softens, a rare moment of vulnerability showing through his usual bravado. “Good. I’ll see you there.” As Rafe gets back on his bike, Sarah nudges you with her elbow. “You two are so gross, you know that?” she teases, a smile tugging at her lips despite her words.

“Yeah, yeah,” you say, waving her off but unable to suppress your own smile. “Kinda your fault for introducing us.” Sarah chuckles, shaking her head. “Well, I introduced you two, but I didn’t expect you to start sucking each other’s faces on the first day,” she retorts with mock indignation, her playful tone echoing across the court as she returns to her side.

[idkirdkok]

I don't know why some people blame stolas for how things went...He literally just confessed that he has feelings for blitz and, from his pov, not only got rejected and got the impression that it's always been only a sex thing (he saw blitz write it off as a sexual roleplay and even jokingly said "i love you sooo much" man,,,that must've hurt), he also GOT YELLED AT and INSULTED, in the same fashion his toxic, abusive ex used to constantly do and it was the first time he actually heard how blitz thinks of him.

WE as the audience know it's blitz' defense mechanism because he went through a lot of shit, that he actually wanted to Talk about it (and he did talk (or tried to, at least). He asked for a minute ro think/process and actually said how he feels, that's a great improvement. He also immediately tried to apologize once he realized stolas didn't yell back at him and that his words actually hurt stolas. I'm not blaming him at all. He has his own shitload of reasons and trauma for why he reacted the way he did), but stolas didn't know all that. His pov is dry ass responses to his texts, and blitz not showing up to neither save him nor visit him in the hospital. He saw blitz treat his confession as a joke, and then yell at him for "dropping this feelings bullshit" on him (again, WE know it's because Blitz thinks so low of himself that he convinced himself it must be a joke, and that someone like stolas couldn't possibly genuinely like someone like him). Then basically got told he's a terrible person. It's all too much to deal with.

I think had Blitz been more gentle in saying all those instead of kicking the door and yelling, it probably wouldn't have gone as bad as it did. Stolas literally FLINCHED when blitz yelled and called him a bitch. So yeah, they needed to have a longer, two sided convo, he should've heard blitz out, should have given the poor guy some time to process everything before making a decision. BUT!! he can't be blamed for not doing that, it was a hard fucking moment for him.

I also think the reason he immediately teleported Blitz away instead of waiting to hear his apology was not solely because it was the first time he realized how Blitz views him, but also because Blitz unknowingly confirmed what Stolas was worried about. "If he's only here as a prisoner, then what kind of monster does that make me?" And then Blitz went and called him a rich, pompous asshole who thinks he's more important than others.

Man...I can't wait to see what happens in apology tour

Tl;dr: neither of them are fully right or fully wrong. They both reacted based on their own circumstances, trauma and assumptions

[in-my-feels-probably]

Older Art spoiling his 20 something yo girlfriend that goes to Stanford. She looks up to him and listens to him and does whatever he says and basically lives for his praise.

I Feel So High School (Every Time I Look At You)

Request: Older Art spoiling his 20 something yo girlfriend that goes to Stanford. She looks up to him and listens to him and does whatever he says and basically lives for his praise.

and: art being 10ish years older than reader? that’s all i got. go crazy

Hi! Challengers has been on my mind literally since the day it came out, and I think I've read every single fic on here about it, so I figured I’d give it a shot writing one myself. First of all, I combined your requests, hope that’s ok. Second, this is my first time writing for Art, so please bear with me while I try and get the hang of writing his character. I haven’t written a fic in weeks, so my skills are definitely a little rusty. Please be kind! Anyways, I hope you like this. Let me know what you think, and thank you for the request :)

(Warnings: none? idk, maybe very vague mentions of sex, art is divorced, swearing, i guess the age gap taboo. let me know if i missed anything)

—

You should have known trying to explain your situation with Art to someone else would’ve been difficult, but finally telling your roommate everything was just as humiliating as you thought it would be. She always had a knack for nosing her way into your business, and not even you were immune to her federal level detective skills when it came to getting information out of someone. 

“And I’m seeing him today,” you finished your rant as you sucked in a breath, wincing as you waited for the bomb to drop.

But it didn’t. Your roommate just grinned, standing up and walking over to your closet. You watched with a confused look on your face until she turned to you, already elbow deep in your clothes.

“So…you have a sugar daddy?” your roommate asked, trying to stifle a laugh as she rifled through your closet to help you find an outfit. “No judgment, I’m honestly jealous.”

You picked a pillow up off your bed, launching it at her when she smirked as you flushed. “I don’t have a sugar daddy! I have a…well—ok, I don’t know what we are. But he’s not my sugar daddy.”

“No, he’s just an ex pro tennis player with a famous ex wife who was also a pro tennis player that he had a perfect little girl with, complete with a house in the Hamptons. Now, he’s…what, exactly? A coach? A commentator? Part of Stanford’s glorified alumni? No, I’ve got it! I know what he is — hot. In a beekeeping age, recently divorced, kind of way.”

You rolled your eyes, standing up to help her look through your closet. “He’s only in his thirties. You’re making him sound archaic and washed up.”

“Look at you, gushing over him,” she grinned as she finally landed on something for you to wear, quickly handing it to you. “At least he has good taste. You’re hot, too.”

Your roommate turned around while you quickly changed, sitting down at the foot of your bed. She talked over her shoulder as you got dressed, her voice full of curiosity.

“So, how did this all happen anyway?”

You sighed, shaking your head. “Remember alumni week with all the guest lectures and presentations a few months ago?”

“You met Art Donaldson during alumni week? What the fuck! Why didn’t you tell me? I wouldn’t have skipped all my classes that week if I thought I was gonna pick up a trophy husband instead of being forced to sit through a mind-numbingly boring presentation from some guy who used to go here that I’ve never heard of.”

“Sucks to suck, babe,” you grinned, finished getting dressed. “I’m good, you can turn around now.”

She quickly turned around, patting the spot on the bed next to her.

“How did this even happen? I’ve never seen you step foot on a tennis court in your life, and I know they wouldn’t have asked him to speak in a graduate lecture.”

You sat down next to her, nodding. “He did a seminar down at the courts for the kinesiology majors or something like that. They were learning about sports related injuries and how to treat them. He told them about how he hurt his shoulder a few years ago during a match, and he talked about all the physical therapy he had to do.”

“You’re telling me you sat through a kinesiology lecture? On a tennis court? When you don’t even study kinesiology?”

“Absolutely not,” you laughed, leaning back against the headboard. “He told me about it that first week while he was here.”

Your roommate giggled, grabbing your hand and squeezing it. “Oh my god! Okay, okay. Spill. Now. I want to know everything.”

You playfully rolled your eyes, but started ranting again anyway. 

—

In truth, you didn’t really know what your relationship with Art was. You’d met when returning alumni who’d gone on to excel in their fields came to campus for guest lectures and demonstrations.

In a total mortifying cliche, you ran into Art in a hallway while you were rushing to a lecture that had already started ten minutes earlier. You would have been on time, but your roommate accidentally locked herself out of your dorm, and the RA wasn’t answering their phone. She had an exam she needed to get to, which—in her own words—“trumps your boring book lecture.” You had no choice but to turn around and save her, making the trek back across campus to let her in. That’s how you ended up running face first into Art, your bag and all your things scattering across the floor. By some miracle, at least the halls were empty.

You quickly kneeled, scrambling to pick up all your things. “I’m so sorry, I wasn’t watching where I was going. I’m late for class.”

“Don’t worry about it,” he said, kneeling to help you.

It was then when you looked up, and you felt your heart jump into your throat. Art Donaldson—famous alumni and world renowned tennis player—was crouched right in front of you, handing you half empty tubes of chapstick, a pair of headphones, and a stray pack of gum. Oh god, you thought to yourself. Why me? Why today? You quickly cleared your throat, standing up.

“God, sorry. Thanks…Mr. Donaldson.”

You cringed as you said it, the title of Mr. feeling off as it rolled off your tongue.

“Mr. Donaldson?” he raised a brow, shaking his head. “No, just call me Art. Uh, you know who I am? Am I actually still recognizable here? I figured no one off of the courts would have any idea who I was.”

You glanced down at his shirt, pointing. “You’re wearing a name tag.”

Art paled, raising a hand to awkwardly scratch at the back of his neck. Good one, he thought to himself. Very humble. He cringed to himself as his cheeks flushed, a small smile on his face.

“Right. I knew that.”

You smiled, pulling your bag back over your shoulder as you let out a little chuckle. “I know who you are. Stanford never lets us forget about their prized students.”

“Ah,” he nodded, grinning. “In my day, it was Reese Witherspoon and Jennifer Connelly. Although, Reese dropped out halfway through her degree, so they don’t talk about her much—”

“And Jennifer left Yale to come study here,” you finished. “That’s one they do still brag about.”

Art smiled, leaning back against the wall as he looked at you. You suddenly became very aware of your situation, tearing your eyes away from him to look down the hall where your class was. Art’s eyes followed, and he straightened up, clearing his throat.

“Am I keeping you?”

“No!” you said all too quickly, biting your tongue for a second before you forced yourself to calm down and continue. “Uh, my class already started. It’s not really important, he doesn’t count attendance anyway. And, to be honest, he’s pretty dull. He managed to make Jane Austen boring.”

“Not Bazin’s class, is it?” Art asked, making you raise a brow.

“Yeah, it is. How’d you know that?”

Art smiled, letting out a little laugh. “That’s why I came this way, I wanted to see if Professor Bazin still taught English here. He was a dinosaur even when I graduated. I’m surprised they still let him teach.”

“If they actually read the end of term course evaluations they make us fill out, they wouldn’t,” you mused, making Art grin wider.

“I guess I should let you go then,” Art shrugged, glancing down the hall. “Wouldn’t want you to miss out on something you could use in your scathing evaluation.”

You glanced back down the hallway at your classroom, but you couldn’t get your feet to move. You weren’t sure why, but you didn’t want to go just yet. 

All you did at Stanford was go to and from class and stay on top of your studies. It was monotonous and boring, and you were always up to your neck in papers and projects. Other than your roommate, you hardly had any people left you talked to or hung out with. They all graduated with their undergrad degrees, and you moved on to your graduate studies. Your education was important to you, but it got lonely. You almost never took risks anymore. But as you glanced back at him, that’s what you did.

You took the risk.

“Or…you could save me from my misery?” you stuttered out, an awkward smile on your face.

Art looked at you with an amused expression, tilting his head as he waited for you to continue. You swallowed, fiddling with the strap of your bag.

“My classes are almost all entirely in this building. I’m sure you’re sick of talking about tennis, but between here and my dorm, I don’t think I see enough sunlight in a day to keep me going. Maybe you could walk with me somewhere that actually sees the sun? Doesn’t have to be the courts or anything, although I can say with full confidence that I’ve never actually seen that part of campus and I’m in my graduate studies. Uh, maybe you’ve got somewhere in mind? Or you could let me buy you a cup of shitty cafeteria coffee? I promise I’ll refrain from asking you about your career. But, as I’m sure you can tell just by looking at me, I don’t really know enough about tennis to ask anyway.”

As you rambled on, horrified by your own rambling but determined to put yourself out there, Art smiled. 

He’d met a lot of girls over the years. Some girls who had a genuine interest in him but didn’t last, and some who saw his fame and fortune as a one way ticket to an easy life. 

None of them mattered. 

He had married Tashi, head over heels from the first moment he saw her. He had a kid with her, a career with her, a seemingly picture perfect life with her. It didn’t even occur to him to look at other girls until his marriage started to strain under the weight of his career, and he’d almost forgotten what it was like to look at a girl for the first time and feel that sickening but addictive feeling of butterflies fluttering around in his stomach. After the divorce, it felt so foreign to him that he didn’t even try. He had resigned himself to being a single father who co-parents and lives the rest of his life comfortably and quietly.

But here you were, rambling on with flushed cheeks and bright eyes trying your hardest to ask him out, and he couldn’t be more captivated.

There was just something about you. You were pretty, obviously. Anyone with eyes would’ve been able to see that. But there was something else, too. You were still young and not entirely pessimistic yet, with your whole career ahead of you. Probably no more than a few heartbreaks under your belt, able to muster up some sort of courage to fight for what you wanted. He used to have that, and he missed it — admired it, even. As you finally cut yourself off and looked up at him with mortification written across your face, Art saved you from further embarrassment with a smile. 

“Um…coffee sounds good,” he said with a shy smile. “Not from the cafeteria, though. If it’s as bad as it was when I went here, I’m not gonna let you waste your meal card money on it. There’s a cart outside of the athletics center, I stopped by it this morning. It’s still good.”

Trying your best to mask the shock you were feeling by his answer, you quickly nodded. “Oh, okay. Sounds good.”

You spent the entire afternoon with him. Coffee turned into lunch, and lunch turned into a long walk. Although you both had things to do, neither of you wanted to say goodbye and go on with your day. You skipped the rest of your classes for the day, letting Art show you around campus. He took you to all the places you had never been, and you kept quiet and let him show you anyway when you passed somewhere you had already been a hundred times. He was polite and asked you about your major and career goals, even managing a graceful smile when it was his turn to tell you about his career and how it unfolded after he graduated. He was careful to leave out the end, but he found himself comfortable enough to tell you about the first few years. You asked what you could, but you really didn’t know enough about the sport to ask much of anything.

“I’m boring you to death, aren’t I?” he asked when there was a lapse in silence after you passed a poster with his face on it for a Wimbledon campaign.

“No, not at all!” you replied, tilting your head up towards the poster. “I’m just wondering how you managed it.”

Art cocked a brow, turning towards you. “Managed what?”

“Not becoming a complete asshole,” you shrugged, making him burst out laughing. “I’m serious! You’re not the first celebrity to come here during alumni week. The difference between you and them is that you didn’t show up and immediately start bragging about how successful you had become. As far as I can tell, you’re the same as when you graduated. That seems pretty rare.”

“There’s not much to brag about,” he shrugged, too humble for his own good.

“A career Grand Slam isn’t worth bragging about?” you asked, turning away from him when he gave you a confused look. “Okay, fine, I may or may not have Googled you back in the restaurant while you were in the bathroom. I was running out of things to ask you, and I figured I should know something about tennis. Anyway, I was impressed.”

Art just chuckled. “I’m flattered.”

After walking a few more minutes, the street lamps turned on. It had gotten late enough in the evening that they were starting to light up around the darker parts of the campus. It was your cue to stop walking and look around, both of you realizing how long it had been since you started talking.

“I guess I should be headed back to my dorm,” you said, a hint of disappointment in your voice. “My roommate is probably freaking out by now. She knows I never really go anywhere after class without her—and yes, I heard how pathetic that sounded as it came out. She’s probably gonna call campus security if I don’t show up soon.”

Art nodded, knowing you were right. And yet, his feet didn’t move. Neither of you made any attempt to leave, still standing under the soft light of the street lamps. Art looked at you with soft eyes, absentmindedly reaching to fiddle with his wedding ring with his thumb before he remembered it wasn’t there anymore. Finally, he cleared his throat. 

“Well…I guess this is the part where I ask you for your number.”

“It was nice meeting you, too—” you started, doing a double take once his words registered. “Wait, what?”

Art let out a nervous laugh, shrugging. “You bought me a coffee, it’s only fair that I do the same. I’m here all week. Maybe you’d want to do this again sometime?”

“Uh, yeah! Yeah, that sounds good,” you replied, trying your best and failing to sound as nonchalant as you could.

Art smiled and pulled out his phone, opening his contacts. He handed it over to you, watching as you typed in your number before handing his phone back to him. You fought the heat pooling in your cheeks, fiddling with the strap of your bag. Art grinned, breaking the silence. 

“Go find your roommate. Tell her to call off the search party.”

You chuckled, nodding. “I’m on it. Well…bye, Art.”

“Bye, Y/N. I’ll text you,” he replied, enjoying watching you shuffle back and forth on your heels. 

He made you nervous. And for some reason, he liked that. He’d spent practically the last decade of his life perpetually nervous. It was nice to know someone else felt the same way. 

He watched you go as you turned around and headed back to your dorm, a distant but still familiar warmth in his chest. He’d only known you for a few hours, but he could already tell he liked you. By the time you made it back to your dorm and managed to come up with an excuse for your roommate who immediately interrogated you the second you stepped through the door, your phone was ringing. You excused yourself to the bathroom with a bashful grin on your face, answering the call.

—

You spent the better part of a week with Art when you both had time between your classes and his seminars. 

It felt surprisingly easy and normal talking to him. Your small talk about your careers and plans turned into more personal topics, and then you were talking about anything and everything. You were fully aware of the age gap between you two, but it didn’t bother you nearly as much as you thought it would. If anything, it was part of the draw to him. He was also kind and friendly, with a surprisingly self deprecating sense of humor that made you laugh. Not to mention the fact that he was drop dead gorgeous. You had to actively make sure he didn’t catch you staring at him when his head was turned. He made you want to actually giggle out loud, which is something you never thought you’d do over a guy.

By the end of the week when it was time for him to leave and go back to New York, you both were dreading saying goodbye. 

It was late in the evening, about an hour before he had to leave to catch his flight. He’d finally taken you to the courts, once again only lit by the street lamps overhead. It was the first time all week he’d stepped onto the court and actually wanted to be there, not surrounded by onlookers who knew every nook and cranny of his life and career. Instead it was you, the sweet pretty girl who made him genuinely laugh when you asked him why the points system would ever use the term love to describe a lacking score. 

He fiddled around for a while, teaching you a few serves and how to hold the racquet to hit the ball. Eventually he was on the other side of the net, watching you giggle and chase after the few balls he’d softly serve your way. He could hear you panting and the sound of your shoes skidding across the court, but your laughter was too sweet to make him stop. 

Finally, you stopped to take a break, sitting down on the bench. “Don’t look at me, I might cough up a lung.”

“Very impressive,” he smiled, passing you his water.

“Thank you,” you grinned, motioning between him in the court. “Go on, let’s see what you’ve got. I’m down for the count, but I’m sure the ball machine will be more than happy to fill in for me.”

Art smiled, watching you grin at him with flushed cheeks and glowy skin. If anyone else was asking, he wouldn’t have done it. He wasn’t interested in showing off his skills, or lack thereof to put it more accurately as of late — he’d stopped training as intensely after the divorce, no new tournaments waiting for him to come and win. But the look on your face when you asked was just one he couldn’t say no to. Plus, your knowledge of the sport wasn’t that vast. You probably wouldn’t notice if he slipped up anyway. And if you did, you’d be too kind to make him feel bad about it.

“If you insist,” he groaned, but he was still smiling to himself as he moved to the other side of the court.

You watched him play for a few more minutes. He really was something to see. Every movement he made was smooth and graceful, a far cry from the stumbling around and huffing and puffing you had been doing. Every ball hit its target, every serve lining up exactly where he wanted it to. As silly as it sounded, you actually had to prevent yourself from clapping once he finally slowed down and turned the machine off.

“Look at you go,” you smiled from the bench, handing him back his water as he walked back over.

His cheeks flushed pink, and he was silently praying you couldn’t see it from under the low lights. He was too busy getting all flustered to reply to you, and it made you smile. It was silent for a long moment as you stared at each other, before he finally stood up. You followed him, a sinking feeling in your gut as you realized that it was probably time to say goodbye.

It had been a week you had never even dreamed would’ve happened to you, and yet it did. The one risk you decided to take had led to the most fun you’d had in your entire time at Stanford. You didn’t want to see him go.

As you looked up at him with soft eyes and a melancholy look on your face, like you were looking to him for all the answers, Art felt a sharp tug in his chest. He found himself immediately wanting to fix it, wanting to make you smile again — smile because of him. He’d have done anything in that moment to get you to laugh again.

So, against his better judgment, he leaned in and kissed you. 

It was a spur of the moment decision, one he almost immediately regretted. But then he felt you sink into the kiss, your hands coming up to his waist to steady yourself. He cupped your cheeks and pulled you into him, unable to stop the smile spreading across his lips. 

And that was all it took — he was falling, and falling hard. 

—

That was months ago now, and yet, Art still found reasons to visit you. 

When there was lapses in tours, or it was Tashi’s week with Lily, he always somehow found himself ending up coming right back to you. He’d pick you up from your dorm, and you’d spend the entire day with him. On weekends, you ended up in whatever hotel he was staying at, telling your roommate you were going back home for a few days. When you weren’t together, you were constantly texting or calling. He even sent a postcard once when the ATP took him to Europe. It was cheesy, but you couldn’t wipe the smile off your face all day when you got it in the mail. 

You hadn’t exactly put a label on the relationship, but it was clear to the both of you that you meant more to each other than either of you cared to admit out loud. Quite a bit more, actually.

And Art wasn’t stupid — he knew what your relationship looked like. 

Recently divorced, a younger woman by his side. If they knew, the media would paint him as one of two options: an easily manipulated victim of a gold digger, or a washed up athlete who split with his wife that was now taking what he could get, the younger and prettier the better. 

But that wasn’t it at all for Art.

It wasn’t just sex, or a new pretty face. You were something different. A breath of fresh air. Someone who didn’t care about his career or money or fame. You had no interest in what he could offer you, or what you could get out of him. You never made him feel pressured to do anything or talk about anything he didn’t want to. He’d spent so many years craving a sense of normalcy and peace. Time and time again, he’d wanted to go to Tashi and beg for a break in his routine. But, always too afraid to disappoint her and everyone else watching him, he stayed quiet. He never got a break. As odd as it was to say, that’s what you were to him when he met you — a break. A minute to breathe, a moment to relax. He always felt that way around you.

Simply put, he was head over heels for you. He didn’t think he’d feel like that for another woman after Tashi until he met you, and it shocked him how easily the feeling came to him.

And it wasn’t just him that had fallen. 

You practically hung on every word he said, and soaked up every ounce of praise he gave you. You had never been with someone like him before. Someone so experienced and sure of himself, but just as gentle and patient as he was sure. He made you laugh and smile, and he made you feel safe. For whatever reason he had taken interest in you, you didn’t care, you just didn’t want it to stop. You clung to it, enjoying it while it lasted.

And if either of you had anything to say about it, it would last.

—

By the time you finished explaining your relationship with Art to your roommate, she was already pushing you out the door. 

“Go, go, go,” she squealed, tossing you your keys. “Wait!”

She wrapped her hand around your wrist, stopping you in your tracks as she glanced down at the outfit she chose. “Is that a new dress? Did he buy you a dress? Oh my god, please tell me he has a brother.”

“Not sure,” you grinned, smoothing your hand down your front. “Show up to alumni week next time and find out.”

You were already pressing a kiss to her cheek and rushing down the hall before she could get out another word, giggling as you made your way to the stairs.

On the drive over to the hotel, the nerves in your stomach were making you nervously tap your fingers on the steering wheel. You must’ve got caught by every stop light, making the trip even longer. You were practically vibrating once you finally pulled into the parking lot, grabbing your bag and hurrying inside before your nerves got the better of you and made you stand like an idiot in the lobby, trying to muster up the courage to get in the elevator. You coasted on autopilot as you forced your feet to lead you upstairs to his floor, all the way down to his door. You only came back into your body when you raised a hand to knock on the door, pausing to take a deep breath.

Just knock, you thought to yourself. You’re a big girl. Just knock.

You had barely even knocked twice on the door before the door swung open, and you came face to face with Art. Your breath hitched in your throat, and you took a second to take him in. Still as pretty as you remembered, and every bit as alluring. You could feel yourself melting. 

The feeling was mutual. 

Art let out a sigh of relief, like it was the first good breath he had taken in weeks. A genuine smile crept onto his face as he reached for you, practically making grabby hands like a child. 

“Come here, pretty girl.”

You tried and failed to stifle a giggle, immediately burying yourself in his chest. You let out a hmph as you pressed your cheek against him, your arms wrapping tightly around his waist. You could feel his thumb running along the bare skin of your arm, his lips pressing a kiss to the top of your head. He nudged the door closed with his foot, tugging your bag from your shoulder and setting it on the floor without even letting you go. He was warm to the touch, and steady against you. He hummed into your hair, squeezing you tighter.

“There she is,” he murmured, letting out a small laugh. “My girl.”

“Hi, baby,” you giggled, the sound making his heart soar in his chest. 

He slowly walked you backwards to the bed, supporting most of your weight as you laid down. He was quick to follow, burying his face into the crook of your shoulder. His arms hooked lazily around your waist, his weight pressing you into the mattress.

This is what you both had been waiting for. This feeling, this moment. Just this.

“You look very pretty today,” he whispered into your skin, pressing a kiss where his lips rested. “All this for me?”

The humor in his voice made you grin, your fingers running through his hair. “Couldn’t let you be that pretty all by yourself.”

Art smiled, pressing his face further into your neck as he let out a breath. You tightened your grip around him, holding him close. You let your eyes close, resting your cheek against the top of his head. 

A comfortable silence fell over the both of you, as easy as it ever was.

—

A/N - Hi! So sorry this took so long to get out, thank you for your patience. I keep rereading this and editing it over and over, I’m not totally happy with it. But something is better than nothing, and I’m tired of staring at, so here you go! Hope this is ok, let me know what you think :)

[nikitaxlee]

"𝖒𝖞 𝖐𝖎𝖓𝖉 𝖔𝖋 𝖑𝖔𝖛𝖊"

✿ ❀ ✿✿ ❀ ✿✿ ❀ ✿✿ ❀ ✿✿ ❀ ✿✿ ❀ ✿✿ ❀ ✿✿ ❀ ✿✿ ❀ ✿✿ ❀

ᴊᴀᴋᴇ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ₊˙♡﹗˚ ༘

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs: ᴀɴɢsᴛ, sᴜɪᴄ!ᴅᴇ, ᴄʜᴇᴀᴛɪɴɢ, ᴛᴏxɪᴄ ʀᴇʟᴀᴛɪᴏɴsʜɪᴘ, ɪɴᴛᴇɴsᴇ sᴄᴇɴᴇs, ɢᴏʀᴇ.

𝘴𝘺𝘯𝘰𝘱𝘴𝘪𝘴: 𝘞𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘫𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘪𝘴 𝘤𝘢𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘪𝘯 𝘣𝘦𝘥 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘢𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘸𝘰𝘮𝘢𝘯 𝘣𝘺 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘴𝘰 𝘤𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘦𝘥 𝘨𝘪𝘳𝘭𝘧𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘥, 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘨𝘪𝘳𝘭𝘧𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘥 𝘥𝘰𝘦𝘴𝘯'𝘵 𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘪𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘸𝘦𝘭𝘭, 𝘦𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘤𝘪𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘴𝘩𝘦'𝘴 𝘥𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘺𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘨𝘢𝘮𝘦𝘴 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘑𝘢𝘬𝘦. ₊˙♡﹗˚ ༘

ᴍᴜsɪᴄ: ᴀ ʙᴏʏ ɪs ᴀ ɢᴜɴ*- ᴛʏʟᴇʀ, ᴛʜᴇ ᴄʀᴇᴀᴛᴏʀ

ᴘᴜᴘᴘᴇᴛ - ᴛʏʟᴇʀ, ᴛʜᴇ ᴄʀᴇᴀᴛᴏʀ

ᴛᴀɢs: @hwanchaesong here you are babes😊

✿ ❀ ✿✿ ❀ ✿✿ ❀ ✿✿ ❀ ✿✿ ❀ ✿✿ ❀ ✿✿ ❀ ✿✿ ❀ ✿✿ ❀ ✿✿ ❀

letter from reader

I didn't know why I so badly wanted him to go away that first time he talked to me. Maybe it was the way he always looked at me like one looks at a meal. Knowing he'll enjoy it in the moment but in the end he'll need a new meal preferably different than the one he had the night before, whatever the reason was, I was right to have wanted him gone. A small roadblock in my life. The night I caught him was the night I died. The day that car was speeding faster and faster until it hit that tree, figuratively and literally. That was the best way to describe me and Jakes relationship. Exhilerating in the moment but doomed from the start. A fucking trainwreck. Maybe that was why I loved him. Still do love him. God did I love every intoxicating moment of bittersweet hapiness. A paradox isn't it? A girl who loved and a boy who didn't. Perfect fucking match.

Jake, my love, why didn't you love me? I gave you everything and more. I wanted the kind of love you have for soccer, for layla, and you're stupid fucking PC that you would fucking waste time on. You know what they all had in common? You all loved them unconditionally. I. Gave. You. Everything. And as you read this I am giving you my life. Because, Jake, love, this is the last thing I do to prove I love you, to prove I can't live without you. God, even if you never loved me. As long as you were there... Please, my love, come visit me when I'm gone, at least once. I want you to love me when I'm gone, but I don't think that will happen. So this is where I say goodbye Jake, my pretty boy. Give Layla extra kisses for me. I love you.

---

1:02 A.M

When Jake made his way to the kitchen, unfamiliar body still tangled in his sheets, he didn't feel anything but numb. The look in your eyes as you opened the door to see him 8 inches deep in someone that wasn't you. In the moment it gave him this sick satisfaction of seeing you hurt. But he couldn't help but wonder if he had perhaps taken this game he played a little to far. Although the two of you weren't necessarily dating, you had a somewhat exclusive relationship. And he loved seeing the tears well in your eyes as he hurt you intentionally just to see run back to him. This wasn't the first time he had called you over here when he had a girl over. he loved seeing you break little by little. In his own sick world, he thought it would cause you to stay by his side.

The floorboards creaked as he made his way down the stairs and into the kitchen to grab some food. He would have to kick the girl out of his bed before you came back in about an hour he guessed. The second he stepped into the kitchen a feeling of dread rushed over him. He didn't notice anything amiss in the kitchen. Except the envelop sitting on the counter with the lighter he gave you for your birthday. The one thing you had from him. You had never reacted this way, usually you would just send him a text letting him know when you'd be back and to text you when he was done. As he pocketed the lighter and opened the letter he noticed the rushed handwriting right away, with bits scribbled out. He started reading and with each word his heart dropped. Each sentence was a stab in the heart. When he moved onto the next paragraph he started connecting the dots on what you were about to do. He didn't even finish the second paragraph before he was in his car.

1:10 A.M

"Fuck, Fuck, FUCK." He screamed. This could not be happening to him. Contrary to popluar belief, he really did love you, he just had a fucked up way of showing it. His tears streamed down his face as he sped to your house. "Y/N I swear to god, please, please, hold on for me baby, I'm so fucking sorry." he was going at least 15 over the limit right now. He entered the bridge before getting on the highway, and that was when he noticed the crowd of first responders on the highway. He was no longer crying just pure terror overcame him as he recognized the car lodged in the tree. The entire 3 lanes were blocked off but he still pulled up to the site. "Baby, baby, no no no NO" He quickly hopped out his car as his phone blew up with texts from the members;

Jay: JAKE, TELL ME THAT ISN'T Y/N'S CAR ON THE NEWS RN

Jungwon: oh god

Ni-Ki: call us now

10 new messages

12:25 A.M

Y/N: Hey Jake, js letting you know I'm going to be running a bit late, I'm picking up some food on the way over, wanna watch a movie? :)

12:36

Y/N: Omw, i picked up sushi!

Y/N: Is the key in the usual spot?

He felt like throwing up as his vision cleared and saw you laying there on the concrete paramedics rushing around you as others are currently performing CPR on you. For some reason he couldn't bring himself to run for you, just slowly shuffling towards the scene. He felt like he had just died and started seeing it all in 3rd person, him slowly walking towards you, the paramedics. Then he was running, almost reaching you but not before the police pulled him back.

"HEY THIS IS A SCE-" "THAT'S MY FUCKING GIRLFRIEND!" He said as he dropped to his knees and cried.

The policeman just held him back as he thrashed and watched as the paramedics put the white sheet over you and spoke.

"Time of death 1:46, died due to imapct to the head flying through the windshield, suspected suicide due to last text messages to family."

'No, no, she can't be-" he sputtered and hyperventilated.

"Ch-check again" he said to no one in particular.

The letter you left crushed in his hand.

✿ ❀ ✿✿ ❀ ✿✿ ❀ ✿✿ ❀ ✿✿ ❀ ✿✿ ❀ ✿✿ ❀ ✿✿ ❀ ✿✿ ❀ ✿✿ ❀

A/N: Moral of the story don't take your roomates cinnabon or it's on sight. One ❤️= One Cinnabon for me🥹₊˙♡﹗˚ ༘

[mischelmayleys]

CHAPTER 2

As Ingird let me through their apartment I noticed how spot on it was. Everything had its place and was dusted off. A cat came to sniff my legs as we entered, making me bend down and pat its fur letting out a soft smile at the bal of fur.

“Okay so your room is right next to ours so if you need anything you can just come to us.” Ingrid explained as she opened the door to the room.

It was mostly a bare room with a nice king size bed in the middle and TV right on the opposite wall. As we walked it I spotted the big window where in front of it was a dest with some plants and a laptop.

“We didn’t know if you needed a laptop for school or not, but we figured you can just use it for whatever you want. It has netflix in it as well as the TV.” Ingird explained, probably seeing me eyeing it.

I didn’t know what to say: “I…thank you.”

She smiled softly at me and went to put a hand on my shoulder which made me flinch: “Hey don’t worry I just wanted to dust off your top.” She pointed her finger on my shoulder which had a bit of blood on it from the fight yesterday.

“Oh, that’s just um…” I started to say but Maria came literally running into the room with my bags on her shoulders.

“I don’t know if Ingrid already told you but we can do whatever you want with the room, we can paint the wall or buy new sheets, some decorations?” She was rambling and it made me look at Ingrid for help.

“Maria calm down, she just got here.” Maria stopped talking and apologized.

“It is okay. Can I use the bathroom please?” I asked not knowing where it was.

Ingrid nodded and pointed to a door in the back of my room: “There, it’s just yours.” I stared at her in shock. Did I just get my own room WITH a bathroom?

“We will let you settle down a bit, if you need anything we are in the kitchen.” Maria said and they left me alone.

I breathed out as they closed the door and I looked at my hands. They were bruised and they hurt less than yesterday but it started to get worse again due to me picking up the skin on my fingers. With a shaky breath I went to the bathroom, and carefully washed my hands under the water. It stinged and I hissed.

I replied to the fight in my head, it wasn’t my fault…I was just protecting myself. I might not have friends in school but outside it was better. Rodrigo was one of my closest friends to many people. He seemed like a bad person, but he was a sweet guy deep down. We met when I was at my first foster home when I was seven and he was ten. I saw him in a park where he had just fallen from his skateboard and I went to help him and since then we were attached to him until he started to hang out with the wrong people.

He is twenty now to my sixteen, and still he is my rock. I came to his flat more than I was to my different foster parents. And the fight happened because of him.

Flashback:

I was sitting next to Rodrigo on a couch as he smoked some weed and I just casually smoked cigarettes. His other friends were split all over his place and just doing nothing at all.

“So…you ran away again.” Rodrigo said to me as he turned my way.

I nod: “Yeah, what was I supposed to do? Get myself killed.” he gave me a soft smile and put his hand on my thigh: “Don’t worry, you can stay here if you want.”

I chuckled a bit: “Nah, I don’t think your friends would appreciate me sleeping in here.”

“You are right, we don’t want this chick sleeping here.” Someone from the other side of the room yelled as Rodrigo went to stand up and defend me but I pulled him back down: “don’t.” He huffed and sat down but couldn’t keep his mouth shut: “Shut up Diego, you bring here sluts and I can’t have here my friend?!”

It was the wrong move and from that time on, one of the only things I remember is that Diego hit first. They were punching each other hard and somehow I stood up and went to split them up.

And that was when Diego grabbed me so to my self defense I hit.

The only other thing I remember is police breaking into the apartment and separating us from each other.

I shook my head as a shiver went down my spine. I stopped the water and walked back into my room and took it all in again.

The fresh sheets.

The Tv and laptop looked completely brand new.

There was a thing I didn’t acknowledge the first time.

It was a framed Barcelona jersey. It had Alexia along with the number 11 written on the back. Alexia…Alexia… I tried to think about where I heard it before. I took out my phone and went to google it until I realized I didn’t have any wifi or data. I sigh and go to the laptop placed on the table and carefully open it. It was connected to a which I assumed was Ingrids and Maria's wifi.

I opened google and wrote about Alexia Fc Barcelona. So much information came up, that’s when I realized it’s THE Alexia, which people in my old school were always talking about. Alexia was the best footballer in the world. It’s not like I didn’t know that Barcelona had a female team, I just never had the opportunity to see them play, I never had a Tv before or money to go to see them play. There was one picture that caught my eye. It was a full squad photo, that’s when I saw them…Ingrid and Maria both being in the picture dressed in their very own kit.

I am living with famous football players…

I didn’t know if that was good or not. They are probably going to travel all the time and not have time for me…great so no need to get close to them. Since they are public figures, they wouldn't hurt a kid…at least I hoped so.

I closed the google and leaned back into the chair. What am I supposed to do now? Unpack?

The question in my head was quickly answered when my phone ding with a message.

Rodrigo: Come over?

I pursued my lips and looked at the closed door and then out of the window. It had the railing and stairs there…great way for escape.

INGRID POV:

Eliza was quiet in her room, we thought she would come out by now to eat dinner, but we didn’t want her to feel pressured so we stayed at the table waiting for her.

Mapi was texting away on her phone when she suddenly put it down: “I am going to look at her.” I nod as I waited.

She came quickly running back to me.

I frowned: “Why are you running what happened?”

Mapi had a worried look on her face: “She is not in her room.”

I quickly stood up: “What do you mean? Maybe she is just in the bathroom.”

“No, she is not anywhere and the window is open so I think she sneaked out.” Mapi said as she sat down on the chair and put her head into her hands. I ran my hand through her hair.

“Well…we know what the social worker told us. We are going to wait for her return.” I said quietly not really believing we won’t go looking for her

[try-set-me-on-fire]

Tagged by @doeeyeseddie and @eddiebabygirldiaz for seven sentence Sunday! Since I haven’t been posting much for tag games lately, here’s significantly more sentences than that from bucktommy acquire a child au. Warning for mentions of past child abuse in Tommy’s family.

Tommy stares down at the dotted line, pen hovering, running the name through his head over and over again and feeling kind of stupid for it. There’s no meaningful difference, at this point, between this last signature and any other of the seemingly dozens of pieces of paper they’ve signed tonight. Nothing really counts until Buck hands it over to the lawyer on his way to work tomorrow. He could sign and then tear the thing up, toss it in the trash. Find someone better to take this on. Take his name out of it, at the very least, hand the kid over to Evan entirely.

Evan, sitting next to him close enough that their knees are pressed tougher, bony, under the table. “What are you thinking?”

Tommy sighs and sets the pen down, tilting his head back to look up at the ceiling. “Can’t we just use… I don’t know, Diaz? I don’t want to give the poor kid my name.”

Buck laughs, just a little, still mostly serious. “I mean, I’m sure Eddie’d say yes if we asked, but- You gave me your name, why’s it a problem now?”

Tommy slides his fingers between Buck’s, surprised as he always is at how well they fit together. “You’re an adult, you can- handle it, carry it. Kinard children have historically been miserable things.”

Evan tilts his head, probably thinking about what Tommy is thinking about: Tommy, beat by his dad who was beat by his dad who was beat by- etc, etc, going back the entire horrible line of them. He’s imagined it before, some medieval peasant kid somewhere, crying into a hay bale or whatever the fuck it is poor folk slept on back then. Evan’d probably know. Maybe farther back than that. A caveman all the other cavemen side-eyed ‘cause he threw his kid in the path of a sabertooth or something.

“Okay,” is what Evan says. “I could get all pop psychology about, like, breaking cycles or whatever, but actually-” he points down the hall. “When I put him to bed tonight he talked literally right up until he was unconscious about all the stuff we saw at the zoo today, that I was in fact there for. Passed out mid word about how we got ice cream and saw a bird. Just a regular bird, that pigeon that landed on the table next to us. I think he was as excited about that as he was about, like, actual lions.”

Tommy laughs, despite his mood. “He was excited about the pigeon.” Milo had been so fascinated by it his ice cream had mostly melted by the time they could successfully prompt him to eat it.

Buck grins. “That kid- our kid- is happy, Tommy. Another talking point? How you carried him everywhere. He got to be so tall, he said you showed him everything.”

“I always hated being too short to see past crowds of people,” Tommy says quietly. “All those legs, everybody strangers.”

“I think most kids hate that,” Buck nods. He leans in to kiss Tommy’s cheek. “You’re not having second thoughts about this?”

“No,” Tommy says, immediate, breathy like it got punched out of him. “No. More than sure.”

Evan nods again. “He’s happy, and safe, and loved because of you. Sign the paper. It’s just a name, and one that I like very much actually.”

“Just a name,” Tommy raises an eyebrow. “So you would’ve been fine with him becoming a Buckley if we had done this the other way?”

“Oh, fuck no,” Buck says, face twisting up lemon-sour as Tommy laughs.

“You hypocrite.”

“Hey, you should have come up with a new name when you married me,” Buck sticks his tongue out, leaning back in his chair like a pleased cat. “Combined them maybe? We could have been… the Binards?”

Tommy squints at him. “No.”

“The Kuckleys?”

“Evan,” Tommy snorts. “No- that’s terrible.”

Buck grins. “Yeah. We really should have just asked Eddie. All be Diazes, it’d fix everything.”

“Imagine the kid’s family tree project at school,” Tommy says, picking up the pen, signing his name as fast as he can before doubt creeps back in. “We’re gonna have to teach him the words ‘non-conventional family structure’.”

Buck laughs and laughs, leaning into Tommy’s side until he kisses up the sound.

Tagging @shitouttabuck @bigfootsmom @iinryer @chronicowboy @butchdiaz @homerforsure if ya got anything to share!

[thedaythatwas]

not a hot take, but I'll say it again: there is literally no way that akechi liking philosophy was part of the detective prince front. this is a man who genuinely enjoys thinking through ethical dilemmas. like, he confirms it in royal, when you're at the jazz club together third semester:

(and yes, in third semester akechi-speak, this is him saying he enjoys it!)

I'm going to ramble on, so I'll insert a page break here real quick.

even if it wasn’t confirmed for us in canon, liking philosophy just fits with akechi's characterization. akechi's referenced hobbies are all activities he can do alone: darts, billiards, bouldering, cycling. sure, everything I listed is much more fun with a partner– enter akiren– but that's literally the narrative role akiren plays in akechi's story! akiren drives home for akechi that more can be accomplished when you learn to rely on others. this applies to talking philosophy. especially so, actually.

I think enjoying it serves a dual purpose for akechi.

one: being able to throw out philosophers' names is undeniably something you can use as social clout, and I know that akechi is well aware of that. he likes being pretentious. yes, it's to uphold the prince image for the sake of his revenge plot, but he also does it for himself, because of his past experiences as a so-called undesirable child. image, including appearing to be well-educated, is important to him for a number of reasons.

two: thinking is something that can fill his time spent alone. as someone who's been so profoundly wronged by the system– and gone on to do objectively harmful things within it himself– he's got plenty of life experience to fuel his pondering. you can bet it's all pretty angry and jaded. nobody said thinking about ethics makes you feel good.

and sure, you can weigh the merits of utilitarianism alone. you can think all you want about what "justice" and "free will" are by yourself. but it's much more fun to talk about with someone else, if that's what you're into (and akechi is).

I don't think it's a stretch to say that akiren's willingness to talk philosophy with akechi is one of the reasons he finds himself sucked into the revenge-scheme-threatening shitshow that is their rivalry. it's easy to say that their "discussions" are a front akechi uses to get closer to akiren, and really, they probably started out that way. but akechi soon finds that akiren really is an enigma– his constant praise of akiren isn't empty. akiren is self-assured, he pushes akechi, and akechi finds himself pulled into their banter like a moth to flame. if akiren couldn't pique akechi's interest, I think akechi could have maintained much more emotional distance from his would-be target.

all this to say, akechi genuinely being a pretentious nerd makes his relationship with akiren make ten times more sense. if akiren couldn't keep up with him, I think their story (or at least, how akechi experienced it emotionally) would have gone much differently.

[rishiguro]

59; “I DON’T WANT TO DIE”

iwaizumi usually did his best to enjoy the visits to you. he made a conscious effort to show up whenever possible - which lately seemed to be almost every day - and he made sure to soak in every second he got to spend with you.

who knows how many he had left with you.

even on bad days he was always a hundred percent present, waving away any thought of work or other issues and focusing entirely on you. that didn’t mean that he didn’t confide in you or shared anything with you, quite the opposite actually. he was aware of how much you enjoyed listening to him talk - or even rant - about his day.

however, today was different.

you were quiet, more quiet than usual, and barely even looked at him. if you did say something, it were mostly one worded answers and everything came out snappy.

honestly, iwaizumi didn’t want to think about it too much. he couldn’t possibly imagine the situation you were in currently, but he was sure that you weren’t avoiding him like that on purpose.

he couldn’t deny that it made his heart hurt though.

after the n-th minute of awkward silence between the two of you, with you staring at your phone with such an intensity that it was obvious that you forced yourself to not look at him for even a fraction of a second, iwaizumi couldn’t stand the lingering tension any longer.

leaning forward, he put one hand on top of your thigh. “love?” he asked. “what’s wrong?”

you still didn’t even glance at him as you replied monotonously. “nothing”

you clenched your jaw subconsciously, a small movement that your boyfriend didn’t miss. he closed his eyes for a moment to compose himself, allowing a small but compassionate smile to appear on his lips.

“it’s okay. tell me,” he whispered, his free hand reaching out to grab yours.

“i’m fine,” you muttered again as your boyfriend intertwined your fingers, tugging softly at your hand.

“talk to me,” iwaizumi urged again.

“i said i’m fine,” you insisted, your voice however not sounding as convinced as you wanted it to be.

swallowing thickly, he looked down at his hand, fingers softly grazing your thigh. “i heard that,” he says as he looked up, tilting his head as he carefully examined your facial expression. “but i know you’re not”

in return you turned your head completely away from him, muttering at him. “shut up”

skillfully ignoring your words, iwaizumi stood up from the chair and sat down right next to you, his shoulder touching yours. “listen, i know you’re not okay. that’s alright,” he whispered with a low, but warm sounding voice. he stopped for a moment, swallowing down the small lump in his throat. “love, let me be here for you”

he expected many reactions.

iwaizumi saw you shut down completely, going nonverbal for who knows how long. he could see you try to change the topic, ignoring whatever he said until he allowed you to shift the conversation. and he saw you open up to him, confiding in him and revealing whatever was plaguing your mind right now.

“i said shut up!” however, your boyfriend didn't see you get up so quickly, stepping away from him and raising your weak voice. he wouldn't have imagine you to - literally - turn your back on him, your hands clanching on your sides.

and yet for a brief moment, he was able to catch a glimpse of your face. his blood ran cold when he saw your painful expression, like you were about to start crying. he could see your form trembling and heard you breathe so heavily.

his lips pressed together, iwaizumi took a couple of seconds to himself. he knew he couldn't press the topic like this further. he had been so caught up in trying to figure out just what made you so unresponsive to him that he seemed to have forgotten the bigger picture of things.

you were chronically ill, your health seeming to worsen every day, the "good days" a rarity by now. you were in hospice for heaven's sake, all while everybody elses' lives seemed to go on just fine. friends, family, partner; everybody was able to live their normal life, while you were stuck in a facility to be taken care of; all while teh dream you had followed your whole life was to take care of others.

to give something back.

and now you literally couldn't do this anymore.

taking a deep breath, he took a moment to regulate himself, before softly saying your name. “look, okay, i’m not forcing you to talk to me,” he began slowly, “and please don’t yell at me when all i’m trying to do is be there for you”

“i’m sorry,” you whispered back, dropping your head in shame and slowly turning around. while you might still not look at him and nervously played with your hands, he couldn't help but feel relieved when you at least let your body turn back to him.

nodding slowly, iwaizumi reached out to you and you didn't even hesitate to grab his hand. he brought your hand to his lips, pressing a soft kiss on the back of it. “i know you are, love” the two of you relished in uncertain silence for a few moments before he decided to speak up again. “do you want me to go?” he asked in a hushed voide. when you looked at him with wide and concerned eyes, you saw the compassionate look on his face, allowing you to breathe out calmly.

whatever you would say, he would be okay with it.

“no,” you replied quickly, shaking your head. “i don’t want to be alone”

your boyfriend couldn't help but feel relieved, his smile widening ever so slightly. “okay” he tugged softly at your hand. “come here”

almost like on auto-pilot you obeyed his command, not coming to a stop until your stood right at the edge of the bed, your knees touching the mattress.

“we don’t have to talk,” he muttered, drawing circles with his thumb on the back of your hands, before he raised his head again, looking at you. “but i’m here” you nodded, subconsciously biting your inner cheek. “don’t try to push me away. you know i won’t let you”

slowly your vision grew hazy, tears filling your eyes. you couldn't help but to clench them shut, your fingers tightening around iwaizumi's with every shaky breath you took.

he didn't rush you. he simply sat there, his eyes on you as he continued to caress your hands with his thumb, no matter how tight your grip got.

after you let out a shaken, but calming breath, you finally managed to find some words. “i don’t want to die, hajime,” you whispered. “i don’t want to die. i’m so scared”

iwaizumi didn't even notice that his jaw clenched as did his fingers around yours with every word you spoke. "and i don't know what to do anymore. i can't sleep, i can't eat, i can't even get dressed myself. i need someone to be near me when i'm just showering, because sometimes i can't even stay on my feet for long enough"

"i'm going to die, no, i am dying! and there's nothing i can do about it. nothing is working, nothing is helping" your knees buckled underneath you, making you stumble and ultimately fall. thankfully, your boyfriend had his arms securely around you, pulling you into his lap.

"i don't want to die," you managed to choke out as you pressed your face in his chest, letting your weak body be cradled by him.

iwaizumi desperately wanted to say something. offer comfort, be there for his partner. his heart ached seeing them like this, crying in his arms so helplessly. clenching his own eyes shut, iwaizumi swallowed thickly.

was there even anything he could say?

“you’re not going to die” the words sounded hollow, like they had no meaning.

like he didn’t believe them himself.

“you’re going to stay right here with me,” he muttered into your hair, “and you’re not going anywhere”

iwaizumi waited to believe everything he said. he wanted to picture a future with you by his side, more energetic, positive, healthy.

or at least not stuck in here.

at night he dreamed of a time where the two of you would grow closer every day, move in together, maybe even get married. he yearned for many more happy memories with you.

but he felt like this dream wouldn’t become reality.

evanescent

/ɛvəˈnɛs(ə)nt,iːvəˈnɛs(ə)nt/ — “soon passing out of sight, memory, or existence; quickly fading or disappearing.”

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taglist: @not-another-ackerman @midnight-drives-with-sunarin @bloombb @jewlmin @tia827 @namyari @fuckyouwhotookmyname @yuminako @megumuro @saiewithakatana @sukunasrealgf @julia-1901 @basically-an-anime-stan-acct @siriusblackrunmeover17 @kaidoslastbraincell @navymacaroons @sunarins @lees-chaotic-brain

[sweet1delusi0ns]

Giving naruto boys flowers ──☆*:・ﾟ

Characters: Naruto🦊,sasuke🗡️,Itachi🥀, kakashi🍃, kiba🐺, shikamaru🀄️,shino🪲,neji🎋,Lee🥋,choji🍥,gaara⏳,kankuro🪆

Naruto🦊-*

“FLOWERS!!!!” He’s so touched by the fact that you actually cared enough to buy him flowers! When you brought him a bouquet of a all kinds of orange flowers he lost it

“I LOVE THEM OMG OMG OMG” he fangirls so hard over you. “THANK YOU!” He rushes in for a very big kiss “your welcome baby! Do you like them?” “I love them! But not as much as you!” He snorts from laughter “your adorable foxy~”

He doesn’t know how to take care of flowers that well but he still gets so sad when they start to wilt. He waits for you to buy him more thought! Tried leaving hints that he wants more flowers. “Ohhh look a coupon for that flower shop you love so much hmmm” “your not sneaky naruto. Just say you want more flowers!” “I want more flowers.”

Sasuke🗡️-*

“What are these for It’s not my birthday?” “You deserve presents other than on your birthday?” “I do…?” “YES!!!” He doesn’t quite understand why you got him flowers yet he

still loves them!

“I still don’t get why you got me flowers?” “because I love you dude!” You use dude in slight annoyance but you weren’t mad! “Well I Love You too darling, and I suppose I like them..” “you love them huh?” “Yes thank you y/n. This is very special, I’ll cherish them” he meant it, those flowers lived much longer than you thought was possible in a vase.

He CARES for those flowers, seriously that’s how they lived so long. This is how his obsession with taking care of plants started, from those first flowers you got him. Now you get him new one every month and he loves caring for them. If you ever have anyone in the house you brag about how much of a green thumb he is, but if someone dares to touch the flowers you gave him he will smack them away.

Itachi🥀-*

He understands why you got him flowers he just feels like it’s undeserved. “Oh flowers, how pretty!” “They are for you~” “oh! Thank you. But wouldn’t you rather have them?”

You don’t understand why he tried pushing them away but you didn’t let it slide. You push the flowers into his hands causing him to softly blush. “No they are for YOU.” He looked up at you before looking back at the flowers “ok…thank you darling, I’ll care for them I promise”

He like flowers but not a crazy amount. A few flowers here and there was perfect. No matter what he thinks of himself he still loves how you still consider him even when going to the flower shop.

Kakashi🍃-*

“Oh thanks!” You were shocked that there was no reaction in his voice. “Nothing? Not even a laugh?” “I don’t blush at everything you do!” You literally looked at him with the blandest expression ever. “Oh really?” You pulled his mask down to reveal his VERY RED FACE. You laugh at his silly attempt to hide it.

“Not blushing huh?” Sigh “fine fine. Thank you y/n I love them.” He doesn’t care for flowers but he still loves them because they are from you. But he prefers succulents and such so when you gifted him one he didn’t hesitate to pull his mask off and smother you with kisses (privately)

Kiba🐺-*

Last time you got him flowers akamaru ate them soooo this time you had to give it to them were akamaru wasn’t around. You leaded Kiba to the bedroom and when akamaru followed you kicked him out, this obviously made Kiba think you guys were going to do something else-

“No no not you akamaru, leave” “what why can’t he be here?” You groan “because i want to do something special” a smirk grew on his face “oh really~ say less” you dropped on his knees and you finally realized what he thought was happening. “NO IM GIVING YOU FLOWERS FREAK!” His face turned red quickly “oh… ehm…give them to me” you handed him the beautiful flowers and he softly smelt them. He can obviously smell more from the flowers so he really likes them.

He doesn’t know how to care for them but he loves the smell and he loves that it came from you

Shikamaru🀄️-*

“Flowers…? Thats really thoughtful thanks” “You don’t like flowers that much huh-” “no dear. Sorry but I like them because they came from you!” He doesn’t like flowers ok they were just never his thing but he appreciates any gift from you so he sucks it up

He just puts them on the counter for a whole day and was confused on why they died so fast until he asked you. “You put them in water right?” “Water…?” “Yes water idiot.” “Uhm no I did not-” You got him another bouquet just to teach him how to actually care for them

Shino🪲-*

The second you handed him the flowers his face turned rosy and a colony of his bees instantly when for the pretty flowers. He sniffs the flowers while his bees buzz around them happily

“Do you like them bugaboo?” (LOL) “yes, I love them. My flower gave me flowers~” “and my bees are very happy with the nectar. Thank you they are perfect!” He plants them if possible to keep them alive for as long as he lives but if that’s not possible he still makes those flowers live a VERY long time, probably because of all his cute bugs!

Neji🎋-*

You leave him flowers everywhere with little notes on them, he loves finding them, reading the love note and then adding the flower to his secret collection (you thought he just threw them away after but NOPE) one day you got him a bouquet of a dozen flowers either with notes on them~

“Y-y/n this is to much..” “nonsense, read them all!” He gladly read them all infront if you, growing redder with each love note. He started tearing up from your sweet notes and giving you a very big hug!

Lee🥋-*

“OH MY GOSH FLOWERS!” “GIMME!” “Ok ok calm down! Here rocky, I picked them all myself!” He grabs the flowers from your hand and gives the bouquet a hug, which caused one of the petals to fall off which he did NOT like

“NOO THEY ARE DYING ALREADY!” You laugh “they aren’t dying they are just shedding don’t worry!” “Uhm…fine. But when they do die can you get me more!!!” “Yes Lee-”

Choji🍥-*

The only flowers he’s use to are those edible ones on the side of his fancy dinners so he was lost when he couldn’t make food with it. But still LOVES themm

“I can’t use them as a garnish?” “No they will make you sick!” He looks at the pretty flowers and smiles “oh well, I love them anyways, just how I love you~” you blush softly at his sweet talk then kiss his cute cheeks

Gaara⏳-*

He understands the gesture but also doesn’t feel like he deserves them. So when you handed him the flowers that match his red hair perfectly he smiled at them but it turned into a frown

“They are so pretty…but why?” “Because I love you~” you grab a flower from his hand then tuck it behind is ear, then you rest your hand on his cheek before speaking “so pretty, I hope you like them” you kiss his nose causing him to cover his face with the flowers

Kankuro🪆-*

“Lameeeeee” “don’t be a brat! He grateful I spend money on you!” “Whateverrr” you leave the room to leave him be but once you left he picked up the flowers and brought them close to his chest before whispering “I love them…” which you heard

You run back into the room to see him huddling the flowers against him while he face is in shock. “Aw your so cute kuro~ my baby loves flowers~” “shut it! I’m not your baby! And I don’t like them I just uh…feel it’s wasteful to not appreciate them-” “oh sureeee, don’t hide your soft side from me.” “Ughhh…yes I love them y/n, thanks..”

[phasesofpencils]

Yeah no Blitz is fully within his right to be pissed off about that "confession".

Blitz literally has no reason to believe that their relationship was anything other than transactional, their last meaningful interaction together was Ozzie's and we ALL know how that went. Even the episode directly before that Stolas is still calling Blitz his "impish little play thing". Blitz's argument that Stolas is "Springing this feelings bullshit on him" is completely justified because Stolas's feelings really do kinda feel like they spring up out of no where during the Ozzie's episode.

And plus we have been getting force fed Stolas's pity party about his horrible marriage, how he's loved Blitz since he was a kid [which A) always felt weird/unnecessary and like they were just blatantly trying to retcon his intentions and B) arguably might have even made it worse cus even back then Blitz didn't have a choice in it], how he now sees how wrong the deal is and how bad he feels and oh he loves him so much. But even if you see all that and sympathize with Stolas for it, BLITZ NEVER SAW THAT DEVELOPMENT!!!

Blitz only ever saw Stolas talking down to him by calling him shit like "itty bitty imp" and "impish little plaything", not taking him seriously when he tries to set boundaries with him and completely ignore every single request he makes to not come onto him in public and not humiliate him in front of everyone from strangers to Stolas's own fucking daughter.

THEIR WHOLE DEAL WAS ABOUT SEX AND NOW STOLAS IS GETTING ANNOYED WITH BLITZ FOR "ALWAYS MAKING IT ABOUT SEX"????? MY BROTHER IN HELL YOU WERE THE ONE WHO MADE THE TERMS AND CONDITIONS FOR THE FUCKING DEAL!!! YOU WERE THE ONE WHO MADE IT ABOUT SEX TO BEGIN WITH!!!!! You were literally just bemoaning how wrong and unfair the deal was, earlier that same episode you asked "if he's only here as a prisoner what kind of MONSTER does that make me?" but now that Blitz is calling you out on it suddenly it's "i didn't realise you thought so low of me😢" you have never given him a reason to think any higher of you. You say you "think so highly of him" and how you don't care about social status but everything you've down towards Blitz so far has shown otherwise. Even literally dismissing him like Blitz accused him of doing by throwing him out for the crime of making him upset. Stolas didn't deserve that Sorry Blitz was gonna give him anyway.

I can already tell that watching reactions to this episode is gonna he so frustrating, so many reaction channels i watch have been so deep in the Stolas UwU Soft Boi propaganda the season has been giving us so far and already get pissed off at Blitz for the crime of making Stolas sad. I'm at least glad for Sarcastic Chorus cus even tho he ships it he can still think critically enough about it to not just blindly coddle Stolas.

[ratherembarrassing]

alright pals, it's time for some rhaenicent fic recs, as asked for by literally 10s of you. here are nearly 500k words of things that have made me kick my heels with joy.

(for the full list of things i've liked enough to think someday i might like to find it again, see here.)

you don't know what love is (if you don't put up a fight) by tansymeadows. 144k, E. technically not finished, but the first 14 chapters feel like a complete story. rhaenyra returns just in time for viserys' death, alicent doesn't back aegon and instead rhaenyra is crowned queen. visenya lives, daemon takes his leave, and rhaenyra courts the dowager queen through the process of succession. the slowest slow burn to ever burn. there is so much plot, a whole-ass war, and they're so ridiculously in love. this fic is why it took me so long to finish compiling this list, because i sat and reread every single delicious word, because it circles back and forth all over their history in a way that just askjdhas. i've read this twice now and even just flipping through it to write this up is trying to suck me back in.

i dwell in possibility by ladybundle / @ladybundle. 29k (2 part series). viserys doesn't die and rhaenyra returns to king's landing. visenya lives, aegon dies, and alicent in this is the most tortured lesbian while they mend their relationship. i really dig the whole vibe of the writing in this, which feels very in character, if that makes sense for the vibe of a fic rather than just a character. the second fic is the origin of the 'alicent hightower's belated sexual awakening' tag i started using, which is a category of fics that i enjoy very, very much.

you'll love me at once, the way you did once upon a dream by rosiep8801/ @rosehathaways-sidepiece. 12k, M. another one where viserys doesn't die and rhaenyra returns to king's landing, this time one in which they wholeheartedly and rabidly throw themselves into sorting their shit out, as they share a bed over and over each night as they battle through their issues. this one has my favourite iteration of the traditional alicent hightower learns of the female orgasm scene.

cleopatra by dontaskmedude. 52k, E. this one appears on every rec list i've ever seen, and rightfully so. kicks off with the weirwood scene in 104, and runs from there, a lovely alternate reality where alicent/rhaenyra/laenor/joffrey live the next 20-odd years in relative peace. this one smashes me in the feelings.

where fire and ice meet by wariangle. 41k, 4 part series, E. pre-series through to rhaenyra's ascension, everything's the same except she refuses to marry or have children. it's okay though, because she has a plan. i am deeply obsessed with "and they were two queens through machinations" fic. alicent in this is my actual fave, she's so spiky; the final fic in the series, although actually deeply sad, has a premise that makes me howl with laughter because obviously alicent hightower, lesbian with a wife for 20 years, would also be a massive homophobe.

not on the last day by revans_mask. 48k, E. alicent goes with otto to meet with rhaenyra and offer terms, and while she's there she slips rhaenyra a message. there are a couple of beats in this that are so romantic i clutched at my chest.

keep the promise in your mouth by iwantthemtostay / @iwantthemtostay. 87k, E. technically not finished, but only missing an epilogue. the closest thing to AU on this list; rhaenyra is barren, alicent has four daughters, and when viserys dies while rhaenyra is away from westeros, daemon takes the crown. when she returns, he forces alicent and rhaenyra to marry each other for reasons. as the summary says, they make the best of it. this fic makes me insane, it's so dreamy.

ride the dragon (do it quickly) by molter / @molter-writes. 36k, unrated. in the free real estate between 106 and 107, viserys sends rhaenyra and alicent to do some politicking in the north. alicent cannot stand the cold, so what is rhaenyra to do but share her bed to keep her warm. alicent is so angry about it.

thine is the queendom by liadrell / @lesbianalicent. 11k, M. the only non-ship fic on this list. an alicent character piece set in the free real estate between 105 and 106, and deal with the absolutely batshit fact that alicent was pregnant with daeron at the same time rhaenyra was pregnant with jace in a way that made me sad as fuck tbqh.

daughters of the dragon by DMCMercy. 14k, M. the kiddos patch things up with alicent's first pregnancy, kicking off what is not at all secretly one of my favourite categories of early canon divergence: alicent's other husband rhaenyra.

[madi-writes-things]

Making The Bed (Johnie Guilbert X Reader)

Summary:

Pushing away all the people that know me the best…

Word Count: 1,415

TW: Passing Out, ED, Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Self Deprecation, Self Destructive Thoughts and Actions, Avoiding Foods, Parties, Drinking, Johnnie Being a Supportive and Good Boyfriend, platonic!Jake Webber

A/N: this has been in my drafts for like three months. Sorry if it seems rushed or anything, I fell asleep halfway through writing it and finished when I woke up. 🫶

“”“”“”“”“”

Y/N’s POV

I stand in the bathroom, obsessively typing the calories from the meal I just ate into the calorie counter that I promised I wouldn’t redownload. I didn’t mean for it to get like this again, but here I am. It just started as a few missed snacks, which turned into meals, and it all snowballed into daily weigh-ins and days with no food. I stop by the mirror for a moment, and I regret it immediately… the second I see myself, I feel my stomach churn.

The worst part of this is the lying to the people close to me… I don’t push them away on purpose, it just makes it easier. On days where I don’t see Johnnie much, I’m able to go the whole day without eating. I know that he’ll find out eventually, but I can’t let it be now.

In an ironic way I find it funny how people on the internet find out what you struggle with, and do their best to make it worse. The only reason that I started skipping snacks, was because people started commenting on my weight gain. It’s not the people who praise me for looking healthier, the issue is the people who spew my worst fears in the comments.

I know in the back of my head, that I will lose everything I’ve worked for if I don’t stay skinny. Johnnie won’t want me, Jake won’t chose me over him, Tara won’t want someone like me as a friend, my fans will get tired of me once I’m not interesting to look at, my family wo-

I hear Johnnie lightly knock on the bathroom door, pulling me from my doom spiral. “you okay in there babe?”

Shit.

I quickly wipe my face off, leaving no trace of the tears that were spilled. “Yeah! Be out in just a second.” Sometimes I wonder if he knows, and he’s happy that I’m losing weight. No. He’s not like that.

“”“”“”“”“”

I think Jake knows…

He stared me down after making me lunch. I think he was trying to see if I actually ate it. He made pasta, and I cried in the bathroom for thirty minutes after leaving the table. I saw him staring at me anytime we were in the same room after that.

Now I’m climbing into his car with Johnnie and Tara, headed to an influencer party. I’m wearing a cute Tank + Cropped Hoodie with skeleton hand’s bedazzled on the tits, and a pair of high waisted jeans. I knew that going out was a bad idea, but I have to stay under Jake’s radar… if he says anything to Johnnie, I’m done for.

I offer to be designated driver when we pull up, there’s no way I’m drinking tonight. One shot of vodka is nearly 100 calories, and vodka is the lowest calorie alcohol I’ve found. Everyone agrees pretty easily.

“”“”“”“”“”

The party has been going on for hours, and all of my friends were pretty tipsy at this point. I decided to go sit with Tara a little bit ago, and now we’re talking about her latest hookup. “He was literally so pretty… and his dick was huge!” She nearly falls over laughing at my reaction. I tell her I’m going to grab a water from the cooler, and find the guys so we can head out.

The second I stand up, everything goes blurry for a second. Shit. I don’t think I’ve had anything to eat since Jake made me, and that was like three days ago. I reach out and steady myself on Tara’s shoulder, as she asks if I’m okay. I mutter a quick yes, as I start walking away. It’s takes a second for my eyes to focus again, but most people just seem to assume I’m drunk.

Once I find the guys, we head out. My head is pounding, and all I want is to get home and go straight to bed. Once we finally get to our room, Johnnie holds me tight in his arms as we drift to sleep.

“”“”“”“”“”

The party was two days ago, and while I know I shouldn’t, I took advantage of everyone’s hangovers. I still haven’t eaten or drank anything other than water. Every morning I wake up lighter than the day before, and I’m not risking gaining any weight at this point.

Today is different, Jake and Johnnie are wide awake. The guys have been filming all morning, and they asked me if I wanted to join them in a video… I obviously agreed. I’ve missed my boyfriend, and I doubt he’d notice anything while we’re out at target.

“”“”“”“”“”

We stopped at three different targets before finding one that would let us film, totaling about an hour and a half of driving around. We’ve been walking around this target for a while, but the lights are too bright and I can’t seem to make my brain work hard enough to figure out how long.

I’m standing in the board game isle when it happens. I see Johnnie’s face fall when he sees me. “Babe, are you okay? You look really pa…” I don’t even hear the full sentence before everything turns to static.

“”“”“”“”“”

Johnnie’s POV

It all happens so fast. One second we’re laughing at something stupid, the next second Y/N has gone completely silent. “Babe, are you okay? You look really pale.” Then it happens. I watch as her eyes roll back into her skull.

Shit.

I barely move fast enough to stop her from hitting her head on the ground. “Jake! Go get some juice and a granola bar.” He practically drops the camera before breaking into a sprint across the store.

nononono… how long have I missed this? It all starts clicking into place… the long bathroom breaks after meals, the pulling away, the way she offered to not drink. Jake returns within 30 seconds, and Y/N starts to stir in my arms.

“”“”“”“”“”

Y/N’s POV

Everything feels like static… I think my eyes are open, but I still can’t see anything. I reach up, and my hand graces something, it takes me a second to register that it’s my loving boyfriend. I mutter a quick apology, and I hear him talking to someone but it’s so muffled. I don’t know how long I lay there before I start to regain feeling in my body. I can’t tell if I’m shaking, but I feel like I’m having a seizure or something.

once I’m able to sit up on my own Johnnie hands me a juice box and a granola bar. I can see Jake sitting across the aisle, also sipping a juice box. They wait until I’m done with my snack before talking. “Baby, I need you to be honest… when is the last time you ate?”

Shitshitshitshit. “I had lunch with Jake.” I try to sound confident, but my voice is shaky. I see Johnnie look across the aisle at Jake, questioning whether I was telling the truth.

“Y/N… that was almost a week ago.” He looks at me with a nearly indecipherable expression, but I know it well. Pity. “Is that really the last time you ate?”

Seeing how worried my they are breaks me. I only allow myself to break down because we are in a fairly secluded area of the store. Johnnie pulls me into his arms, kissing the top of my head. We stay like that for a while before heading home.

“”“”“”“”“”

Three Months Later

That day was a massive wake up call. Johnnie let me take a nap when we got home, while I slept they assembled friends and family. When I woke up they held an intervention. They gave me the choice to Go to an inpatient treatment, or try to get better at home… I chose getting better at home, scared that nobody would wait for me.

That night we worked out a plan. Johnnie made me a meal plan full of foods that I felt safe eating, we threw out the bathroom scale, and we deleted the calorie counter. It wasn’t an overnight change, but I had amazing support from the people around me.

Johnnie is truly the man of my dreams. He never stops telling me how much he loves me, and reassuring me that he would never leave me. He is the reason I wake up in the morning, and I know that he will always be there.

“”“”“”“”“”

@unbruisable @bernardsbendystraws @sturniolo-fann @jnkvivi @stasiesturn

@h3arts4harry @slutforsturniolos

[monzamash]

lando norrisrating – mature (language, angst) requested by anon ✨

monaco was a magical place that you thought only existed in a fairy tale. picturesque mountains, crystal clear water, extravagance emanating in every street corner – it was otherworldly to you, somewhere all the special people go to shed their inhibitions and you hoped it would be a place you could call home someday.

but it wasn’t home, at least not to you. every part of you wanted it to be the place to settle down and find a job, live life alongside the man of your dreams but the transition had been hard – harder than you thought it would be and much harder than lando knew. he worried about the move and how you would adjust, the small town girl with big dreams and humble beginnings. hell, even with all the luxury he had been privileged to grow up with was nothing compared to the indulgent monacan lifestyle.

but he saw the way the city lights sparkled in your wide eyes when you strolled hand-in-hand along the bay and how your sweet face glowed in the candlelight when he'd treated you to a romantic dinner. he thought you loved it here with him, never once suspecting otherwise. and you did love it, when you were with him.

lately though, it felt like he was never there.

“baby you look very cozy but i don’t think sweats and ugg boots are the vibe for jimmy’z…”

“i really don’t feel like going out – was thinking it might be nice to stay in for once,” you coaxed open one of the few remaining buttons on his white shirt and teased his neck with a kiss before lando gently caught your wandering hands.

“i promised martin we would be there.”

his words felt dismissive, a stark reminder that his social life took priority over everything and you couldn’t conceal the huff of frustration when you stepped away and plonked down on the couch with a pout, “then say hi to martin for me.”

“are you serious?” lando’s question and tone surprised you but you kept your expression neutral in an attempt to supress the tears that were already threatening to spill.

“you never come out anymore and then you make me feel guilty for leaving… it’s fucking annoying and i’m sick of making excuses to our friends for you.”

"our friends? lando, they’re your friends, with your people, at your favourite clubs, playing your favourite songs, in the place you call home… i dropped everything to be with you! everything! and all you want to do is hang out with other people."

“what? I’m literally standing here waiting for you to get ready to go out because I do want to hang out with you! Why do you have to be so difficult all the time?” his question knocked the breath from your lungs, the shock rattled your composure as the tears began to silently fall.

“i’m not trying to be difficult – i just want you to understand how hard it’s been to leave everything i know behind for you. and i’m sick of going out because it’s the same every time – you find someone you know, leave me to fend myself amongst complete strangers who for the most part speak a different language and you expect me to subject myself to that every weekend?”

lando shrugged his shoulders with an incredulous laugh as he angrily snatched a jacket from the coat rack and scooped up his wallet and keys.

“i don’t expect you to do anything anymore because you always say no anyway! it’s pretty hard to make friends from the couch, you know… and to fix all the things you hate about this city, you actually have to try but you don’t.”

you were speechless, teary-eyed and vulnerable – all of the things you hated being in front of people you loved. there was a part of you that did want to change, to really change and embrace the new life you were being promised. it was a dream that any girl would die for, a life that any sane person would be grateful for but it wasn’t home.

the air was different, the people weren’t friendly like they were back home where everyone knew everyone and nobody judged someone based on the car they were driving or the shoes they were wearing. it was superficial and nasty and you didn't know who to trust because too much was on the line. lando's reputation, your reputation.

your life had been modest, carefree and peaceful – all things lando was when you first met him way back when. but the principality had changed him, skewed his perspective and resolve for the simpler things in life. he’d lost sight of what was important; who was important and you couldn’t hide your feelings anymore. life was too short to feel like an outsider.

“you used to be the life of the party, someone who loved an adventure… what happened to that girl?”

it hurt you to see lando's handsome face riddled with confusion but his inability to understand you hurt even more. so you shrugged and slouched further into the couch, the walls you had worked so hard to bring down retracting back into place.

“i’m not that girl anymore and if you have to ask me why then you haven't been listening to a word i've said for months."

"what am i missing?" lando sighed, desperate for an answer.

"that all i want is to go home."

just between you and me, i hate this lol the emo hours are over for now and i'll be going back to our regularly scheduled programme (inconsistently posting filth) so stay tuned x more writing...

[sobasluuurp]

Ok. About Tenko.

I understand why so many people are angry that he's dead. I really do. I would've loved for him to live as well. I cried when he died.

However.

Just because he's dead doesn't mean his character has been handled poorly. In fact, all things considered, this ending (even though it makes me real fucking sad) makes the most sense for both his character and his story. Let me explain.

First and foremost, there's the matter of Shigaraki's characterization and arc. It goes without saying, but he's an angry, used, and abused child who grew up into an adult who wants nothing more than for everything to end. His goals have always been destructive to an extreme and honestly, the logical end to "let's destroy it all" is LITERALLY everything, including himself. He's also had absolutely zero agency since the moment his parents even thought of conceiving him, and has been struggling to become his own person since the beginning of his arc. He, against his abuser, who covets immortality and eternity.

What better a way for a person such as himself to assert his agency is there than to go out the way he did? To shift his focus away from the faceless masses and to the (similarly faceless, lol) abuser who caused his pain in the first place? To destroy the control AFO has held over him and prove to him that he was always his own person? To say, this is who you molded me into. And because I am who I am, I will now kill you, and take myself down with you, and be glad for it.

(and in the process, destroy the worldview AFO showed us in the Star and Stripe arc, that the ones who survive are the victors. AFO has completely and eternally lost, but Shigaraki is victorious to his last.)

It's his first moment of complete agency in his life -- acting entirely against anyone else's wishes for himself or his actions. And he uses it to do the one thing he's been itching for his whole life -- to destroy the source of his pain.

It's a negative character arc, in a way. It's not what any of us would've wanted for him. In a perfect world, he would be able to recover and readjust, building a life for himself and his found family in peace. He'd be able to experience life fully for the first time, and see that the world is not so bleak after all.

(I'm choking up just thinking about what's been lost. It's a fucking tragedy.)

But not every character arc gets to end happily. Sometimes people do slip through the cracks. That's always been what Shigaraki's character is about.

....and what every other member of the League's characters have been about.

Because here's the thing. The story of Shigaraki's life and death would be incomplete without his relationship to his found family. He's their leader. Their symbol. Their All Might.

Shigaraki's death is not the grimdark, fuck-the-audience, senseless kind of tragedy. He is a martyr, yes, but the people he stood for will in all likelihood survive. He died for the League. His life -- his existence -- brought them together, gave them purpose, and showed them a bright future. It is my steadfast belief that he will be the only death among the main villains. Because this is a story about saving to win, after all. And given that My Hero doesn't like to kill characters off too often and each one of them still has a path to recovery, I think it's a safe assumption to make. Especially since (especially in Toya's and Toga's cases) each of them had a moment of reconciliation at the end of their fights -- the kind of thing that can help them move forward.

And to be honest, we've known for a very, very long time that BNHA is the kind of anime that likes to turn old cliches on their heads. Kacchan did not become a villain during Kamino. La Brava's literal power of love was not enough to win the battle. Deku fought tirelessly to talk-no-jutsu Shigaraki into redemption, and while he did get through to him, he still couldn't save him after everything that happened. It's nuanced and messy in a way that I've come to expect from BNHA.

So yea, Shigaraki died. But Shigaraki also lived. Despite everything that AFO and Kotoro wanted from him (despite the fact that he was never meant to really be alive in the first place), he lived on his own terms and fought so that the people he cared about would be seen. Because he lived, the old world was destroyed, and from his ashes, a better one can be built. He achieved everything that no one thought he could, and reclaimed his life in the process. What better ending could you ask for a tragic character?

[winrarrr]

:: "ALNST doesn't have any canons😂" at first YOUR MOM /j , and at second try to understand a fucking character's lore i beg you. mizisua is canon cuz it's one of the [[MOST UNDERSTANDABLE]] types of relationships in ALNST, they're literally lesbians in love fr AND EVERYTHING IS VISIBLE ON THE SURFACE. some of their phrases from that album where everyone says some goodbyes to each other: sua -> mizi

That day when I lay on the grass in Anakt Garden, watching the stars, they became my dream. For me, spending time with you was a wonderful moment. (I want to say so many things, my heart is full)

mizi -> sua

In any case, we will be together forever! Sua, you are my dream, I love you! I truly love you, your Mizi.

and like, y'know, my clematis is literally it's their love song lmao🙏

and now fucking ivantill RAAAAHHHHH. SO, LOOK HERE, it’s commonplace that no one played or spent time with till except ivan, and till could spend time with him, because close friend y'know. at least ivan stole till’s things and returned them back and till KNEW about it and didn't mind; after till returned to the anakt garden when ivan showed him the sky and freedom, till was ashamed in front of ivan, WHICH ALREADY MEANS THAT HE [[GIVES A FUCK]] ABOUT IVAN AAAAAAAAA!!!!!! and i beg you watch black sorrow with your eyes, and you'll see the [[RED PUPILS]] IN IVANTILL'S EYES!!!!!

(till had them in the official comic for r6, but everyone said that they were a reflection of ivan’s eyes. YOUR MOTHER FUCKING REFLECTION) +in cure they become wider when ivan touches till’s cheek, what are you going to say now🤘

with hyunluka it’s a big problem in terms of content. but come on, hyuna wasn't disgusted by luka, she protected him, was with him, in the song love&peace it is literally sung that she is his "love love ты металл и я металл а вместе мы сплав", BUT SOMEONE NEED CLIPS😂😂😂 GUYS THIS IS [[ADDITIONAL SONGS]] FOR HYUNA AND DISCLOSURE HER [[RELATIONSHIP]] WITH LUKA, FUCKING GENIUSES. some lyrics from love&peace for you to think:

For you, this love This darkness has no end My body's all beaten up But this love But this love But this love, I can't let you go I'll find it one day Inner peace that I long for, peace I call out to you and hope My heart reaches you

I DON'T THINK THAT A PERSON WHO [[HATES]] WOULD SAY THIS 😲😲😲 yes, hyuna has a trigger, but despite this she wants to save luka, GFKJHSLIUDFLIB!!!!!!

just because they don’t serve you everything on a [[SALVET WITH A GOLDEN EDGE]] doesn’t mean it doesn’t exist. ship whatever your heart desires, i cannot judge, but don’t say that there are no fucking canons in ALNST

i drop the microphone and go into the sunset