#also probably call me a slur not even to be hateful but just to feel something

[gaysexdog]

positive affirmations for the day: i would intrigue doctor house so much with my mystery symptoms and he would insult me in so many different ways

[iwakuraz]

it'll all be okay because there's only one more day left in the school week and after that it'll be the weekend. wait no what do you mean after the weekend I'll just have to go back to school? what do you mean the cycle of going to school and coming back home completely worn out is gonna continue?

[arolesbianism]

Man I've gotta be mean more often Im so sick of being polite abt bigotry I should just start killing ppl fr

[enwoso]

I MISS YOU, I’M SORRY — alessia russo

based loosely off the song by gracie abram’s. i rewrote this three times and i’ve got it to where i’m happy with it. wouldn’t say it’s my best but hey ho. if there’s part that don’t make sense i do apologise i wrote some of this while being half asleep🙃

ANYWAYS hope you all enjoy! it’s a long one<33

masterlist

"i miss you" her raspy voice echoed down your phone, as she slurred over and over how she missed you. the sound of the music blaring in the background told you that she was out in a club.

whilst you were sat on your couch at home, in some old joggers and a hoodie which most definitely had toothpaste stains on it. love island playing as you were catching up on the last few episodes you'd missed, which was playing just as white noise at the moment.

"alessia, you need to go and find the rest of the girls." you said bluntly, the blonde having told you moments before her i miss you rant that she was out with the arsenal girls, which you probably could have guessed anyways after there win in the league early in the day.

but you also wanted to get back to your series, wishing you weren't having this conversation with your ex but you also couldn't find it in yourself to just hang up on her as you didn't want her to be in any harm — especially while she was drunk.

why did you still care?

"i miss you, y/n" she slurred out again, you could imagine the stupid dopey smile on her face as she said the words, her drunken ramble continuing, "i wish you were here, i miss your cute smile and, and those lips. i miss everything about you."

"alessia can you please just go and find the girls" you begged not wanting to carry on hearing her pleads but you also couldn't bring yourself to press the red button which your finger had loomed over for the past ten minutes.

"i'm sorry for everything y/n, i know you hate me but i still love you, i promise" the blonde slowly slurred out again as you could hear the pout in her voice as she spoke.

you didn't hate her, well maybe you didn’t, you hadn't quite figured that out yet where the blonde stood in your mind.

more just trying to space yourself away from everything that happened with alessia however that proved pretty difficult when you both played football, maybe not for the same team anymore but you'd still see her at england camp.

"alessia, please can you just tell me who i can call to make sure your gonna be safe?" you hated that you still cared, that you had stayed on the phone listening to her ramble drunkenly on about you for the past twenty minutes.

knowing that by the morning she wouldn't even remember it or anything she had said so why were you sat listening?

"can you stop callin' me alessia. i'm baby, less, darling, pretty girl, gorgeous—" she began to rattle out all the names you used to call her, opening up another wound you had spent months healing as with each words she spoke you could feel her opening more and more.

"alessia! will you just answer the damn question!" you yelled down the phone, cutting her off as the frustration growing in your voice was obvious, your patience was wearing thin. you didn't want to hear her voice anymore.

hearing the blonde mumble something about your bluntness, as she hummed on probably trying to figure out herself who would be the best option.

"lotte."

after the drunken call you'd gotten from your ex, you hadn't heard anything from her. not that you expected her too. she wasn't yours to be worried about, but it had left you confused especially over her words. they lingered in the back of your mind. what if she meant it. drunk words are sober thoughts as they say after all.

you knew now though you were just strangers who show up but don't matter enough to each other to be friends. however deep down you knew you had too much history to be just strangers.

weeks had gone since that night and you were arriving at england camp for the set of friendlies which were happening in sunny spain, arriving with the rest of the manchester united girls, you knew she was here. you'd seen it on instagram.

so once you arrived you could feel the tension rising in your shoulders and your chest. grabbing your key for your room and heading straight up there wanting to avoid any chance of running into her.

you hadn't seen her since december, in the home game against arsenal. you both didn't say a word to each other, you wouldn't even look in her direction. so the thought of seeing her again was sending you into hard drive, you weren't sure how you'd react, if you'd react at all.

getting yourself changed and flopping onto the bed you'd call your own for the next ten days. your body realxing into the soft sheets, as you began to flick through the channels on the tv hoping that something would take your interest.

however, you only got two clicks in when there was knocks echoeing through your room. a loud groan coming from you as you pulled yourself up from the comfort of your bed, dragging your socked feet towards the door and opening it.

"mary-"

"come on, everyone's waiting for you to come down" mary interrupted you as you looked on with a confused look, "what for?"

"cause we're watching a film as a team and if your not there then we aren't a team!" mary stated as if it was obvious reaching out to grab your arm as you nodded.

"wait! let me get my keycard!" you said quickly, stopping the door from closing as you heard a tusk of the teeth from the goalkeeper as she mumbled out her complaints. grabbing your keycard off the side table and slipping the card into your pocket, praying you wouldn't forget where you'd put it.

walking down the corridors of the hotel complex the FA had situated the team in, side by side with mary it felt a little eerie. something felt off but you couldn't quite put a finger to it.

coming out the elevator as mary continued to chat your ears off, about anything and everything. from telling you what she did last weekend to what she had for breakfast this morning. but you didn't mind, you would class mary as one of your closest friends in football.

she'd been there for you from the very first day you started at united, helping you settle in to helping you navigate your feelings after she happened.

although you didn't say it very often, you were very thankful for her and you honestly dreaded to think where you'd be without mary, even more so in the past few months.

which is why- you were brought out your thoughts as you felt yourself walk into something or rather someone.

"i wasn't looking- sorry" the blonde mumbled stumbling over her words a little as she looked up from her phone, a slight look of shock on her face when she realised who she'd actually walked into.

"s'fine" you said simply, taking in the blonde’s appearance a little. her hair scraped back in a low bun,

the shorter strands sticking out of the bun. she'd cut her hair again, you could tell. dressed in a grey hoodie and some blue england shorts, her legs bare as her socks covered her feet.

her blue eyes which you'd spent many of your nights getting lost staring into— why were you still stood there?

forcing your body to move, not before catching her disappointed look on her face at the few words you'd spoke to her. the blonde looking as if she was going to say something but her lips pressed back together as she carried on walking the way she was going originally.

"well.. that was a tiny bit awkward!" mary murmured as an awkward laugh came from her, you totally forgetting that mary was stood next to you as you tried to steady your breathing to go back to normal.

"well you could have warned me!"

after the awkward interaction with the blonde in the hallway, you’d noticed her small looks towards you before she would quickly look away. probably in fear of you catching her staring at you.

it was now down time and you were sat on one of the sun lounges, hoping to catch a few of the sun rays. with your book in hand and a fresh bottle of ice cold water you had your afternoon sorted.

glancing every few minutes or whenever a loud cheer came from the girls who were playing a game in the pool. your eyes immediately looking for the blonde before you would switch your eyes to someone else.

"why don't you just talk to her?" mary had noticed you looking towards the blonde, especially in the past few days. the goalkeeper being sat on the lounger just next to you.

she'd known since the day you joined united and no matter how many times you would say you were over the blonde or that you didn't care. mary knew that couldn't be further from the truth, she could tell. she's didn't need you to admit it out loud to know.

but mary had been put in a little bit of a hard position when the break up happened. as she was close with both you and alessia. hearing both sides of the story and giving you both advice which from the older girl you both valued deeply. however mary always claimed herself to be switzerland when asked who side to take.

the only side mary was taking was the side where both her close friends were happy whether that was the two of you happy together again, or if that was you happy with someone else. although deep down she was hoping for the first option!

"talk to who?" you tried the oblivious act, as you turned the page of your book. your eyes trying to follow the words on the page.

pretending you didn't know who she was talking about in hopes you would avoid the topic all together as well as hoping the conversation would change. but you also knew how stubborn mary could be.

"y/n don't play thick with me, you know who i mean" mary gave you the pointed look that told you she wasn't going to give up until you gave her an answer.

"maz i- i can't." you stutters over your words as you saw the sympathetic nod and smile that the goalkeeper sent your way. mary understood why, but she was also close with a certain blonde and knew exactly how she felt.

"but what's stopping you? i know that brain of yours has been whizzing with questions since you know, it ended on a sour note" mary began as you placed your book on your chest, turning over to face mary listening to her as she spoke.

"you don't have to magically become best friends or even be friends for that matter, just what have you got to loose by talking to her?" mary shrugged, as you hummed looking up from the ground. you knew mary was right you didn't have anything else to loose.

"mhm i'll think about it"

you were in london, not by personal choice. united had been playing chelsea in the fa cup. after a full 90' minutes on the pitch you had been longing for your bed since the final whistle blew.

but you'd gone out and had a few drinks with the girls to celebrate before returning to the hotel as the some of the other girls where going off into the next club along the street.

you'd just gotten changed and was about to begin brushing your teeth when there was a quiet knock ringing around your hotel room. at first you thought you'd imagined it but the knocks continued this time a little louder and more continuous.

huffing and placing your toothbrush on the side of the sink, "mary! i haven't got-" you opened the door thinking it would be mary asking if you had a spare key card for her room except it wasn't.

"oh" you whispered as you stared at the last person you thought would be standing at your door just past midnight.

"alessia what are you doing here?" you asked dismissively, wondering how she even knew where you were staying.

"um i was hoping to talk.. to you" you could tell she was nervous, her quiet tone which had replaced her usual confident tone not only gave it away but the fact she was swaying slightly from side to side. a thing she did when she was overthinking something.

"at quarter past twelve in the morning?" you pointed out tiredly looking at her as she timidly nodded before opening her mouth again.

"it's just- i've been wanting to talk to you for ages but it never seemed like the right time- and mary she said where you were saying-" she explained as you still held the same confused look still not quite grasping the fact she was stood at your hotel door at stupid o'clock in the morning but maybe that was also the alcohol in your system slowing your thought process down.

the blonde noticed the hesitated look on your face. "i'm sorry, this is stupid- i'll go. forget i was ever here. i'm sorry" alessia spoke fast, beginning to spin on her heel, not giving you a chance to respond.

but you quickly before she got to far away grabbed her arm pulling her back towards you. why? you didn't know yourself but something inside you was telling you to hear her out.

"no, i'm just a little shocked, you can come in" you said shallowly, moving out the way as the blonde wondered into your hotel room. taking a deep breath in as you shut the door behind you reminding yourself mental to have a chat with mary tomorrow.

"so?" you asked, hoping she would get to why she was actually here watching from behind as the blonde took a seat on your bed, you sitting on the one opposite her.

"i just wanted to see where we stand with each other-" the blonde started as you scoffed a small smile appearing on your face it dropped just a quick as you realised she was serious, "really?"

"yes y/n, look i know you hate me and you have every right to but i just want us to be civil or friends or something. i don't know" the blonde huffed as you nodded slightly with what she was saying.

a silence filling up the room, and an awkward silence at that.

"i miss you and i'm sorry for the way things ended" alessia admitted as your head snapped up. memories of the words she said to you when she was drunk flooding back within a second.

you paused, your head spinning giving you a slight headache, but that could also be from the shots you had taken mere hours ago. “i don’t hate you..” you whispered. this time the blonde looking at you her head tilted slightly sensing the fact you weren’t finished with what you needed to say.

“you don’t?” alessia asked, a slight bit of relief coming over her as you shook your head.

“i don’t but you really fucking hurt me alessia, i know you moved to arsenal for your career. and i’m not trying to take anything away from you for that cause i’ll admit your shining there. but i was your girlfriend. i thought you loved me and you just threw me to the side as if i meant nothing as if our relationship meant nothing!” you paused, taking a deep breathe as you continued.

“i had to ask your fucking teammates how you were doing just to know if you were okay cause you couldn’t seem to find the time answer my messages or calls..” you trailed off, your eyes starting to fill with tears.

“do you know what that felt like, to feel so unimportant to someone that i cared and loved so much and someone who was supposed to love me.” you breathed out rubbing over your eyes to stop the tears from falling down your cheeks.

alessia looked at you were pure sorrow in her eyes, a sad smile on her face as she looked down at her hands playing with the gold ring that sat on her middle finger on her left hand.

“i didn’t know..” alessia whispered, still sliding her ring on and off her hand unable to look at you as guilt filled her body from your confession.

“of course you didn’t! you never made an effort once you moved to london!” you spat back, instantly regretting the out-lash as you pinched the bridge of your nose. before moving from sitting opposite the blonde to sit next to her on your bed.

“all i want is a second chance, just as friends nothing more. i meant it when i said i miss you” alessia confessed as you hummed. “i could say it a thousand times that i’m sorry for what i put you through but that won’t do it justice, i just want for our past to be put behind us.. and i would like to get to know you, the new you. if that’s okay with you.” alessia smiled as you nodded.

“so friends then?” you asked, alessia moving her eye line to meet yours her smile still on her face. “friends!” she moved slightly forward to hug you but stopped half way thinking she misread the situation spluttering an apology out as you shook your head wrapping your arms around the blonde in a friendly hug, pulling away after a few seconds.

“so do you still like ketchup with everything?”

part of you should have known you could never just be friends with the blonde. after the night where you spent with her in your hotel room talking the entire night, getting to know each other. rediscovering old habits and discovering new ones.

you found yourself wanting her attention. needing it.

after getting only a few hours sleep that night, you having a hard time saying goodbye to her after only just gotten her back in your life after so long. you didn’t want to say bye, again.

“i don’t want to go” you whined like a child as you slowly did your hair as a giggle came from alessia who was sprawled out on the bed.

“you have to though! we can see each other soon” alessia promised as you still sat tying a hair tie in your hair a huff coming from you. “but that’s too long!”

“it won’t be, either i’ll come up to you or you can come down to me”

and much to both of your promises only a week later after constant messages and facetimes, you found yourself at the blondes apartment in london. finding your first next free day and getting the first train down.

as you spent the evening watching a film, both cuddled up on her couch eating dinner which she had prepared and made before the night coming to a close and as you were going to the guest bedroom, her hand capturing yours and pulling you into her room.

you weren’t gonna lie it did feel weird to be this close to her after so long trying to distance yourself from her, but everything you knew lead you back to her.

you were lying on her bed face to face, as her hand gently came up to move the strand of hair from your face.

a small sigh coming from you, you felt at peace again. as alessia looked at you with nothing but love in those blue eyes of her, looking at you as if you were the only person in the world.

her hand dropping from your face, but before it could drop to its original place you grabbed it. lacing your hand between her, you noticing how your hands fitted perfectly together. together like a puzzle piece.

"i love you so much." she said quietly, a slight smile appearing on your face. but just as quickly as your hand laced with hers, she kissed you.

you responded with such enthusiasm that alessia was a little taken aback at first, but regained her thoughts and reminded herself of what was happening.

alessia was really kissing you.

you were really kissing her.

a feeling you'd been craving for just under a year, since the last time she set foot in your apartment in manchester. when she kissed you goodbye on the cheek, as you stood there shoulders sunken in and lifeless.

nothing could have meant more than her, nothing could have have more beauty than this moment. the way her hands pressed into your chest, the way her blue eyes fluttered closed. you fit into her like a glove, her kiss was like the beating of a butterfly's wings. so soft and wholesome until it became addictive.

and in those few moments you were reminded of why you fell for alessia in the first place. her scent was what you craved. you wanted to have her close to you, unsure where she ended and you began. you’d rather walk through hell again and again then lose her again.

her entrancing eyes, her captivating smile against your lips, her laugh when you did something silly, her hair which now hung just at her shoulder height as she looked at you, her raspy morning voice, her love was everything to you.

but your stupid, stupid lungs had to find air again, as you pulled away from her still lingering in close proximity to her. somehow alessia had moved position as she was now hovering over you, as she straddled you.

she was looking down at you with such an inviting warmth that you wanted to kiss her again, the silence still lingered as she pulled away you adjusting yourself to sit a little upright. a heat rising to your face.

"sorry, i-i shouldn't have..." you trailed of quietly looking at your fingers playing with the rings that you wore.

"what do you mean?" she said softly, watching the your worry struck face. "that wa- it's okay love"

"o-okay?" your voice was hoarse. you cleared your throat, laughing a little before she made the move to kiss you again.

"we'll take it slow, i promise. but i know what i want and that for you to be in my future and if i have to wait then that's what i'll do." alessia spoke with such reassurance and pureness, that made your heart beat just that little faster as you nodded.

a small smile coming onto the blondes face as she leaned forwards to place a gentle kiss onto your cheek.

"i love you, so much."

[circuitcircus]

in defense of kabumisu……..

addressing things I see people say about why kabru being shipped w mithrun is ‘bad’ or why their canon relationship ‘doesn’t mean anything’ while also clearing up misconceptions of the characters some fans have

listen it keeps popping up and I just gotta do this or my brain will melt (if you don’t see it around then god I wish that were me) there’s an age gap!- erm there’s also an age gap in farcille (ily), the most popular ship in the series...also chilchuck looks like a kid but a lot of fans recognize him as a dilf because of his relative age, so there should be no age gap discourse among adult characters because it feels so conditional tbh

kabru taking care of mithrun is racist!- marcille likes to take care of others as well. is that sexist, or just an aspect of her character?

kabru isn’t treated like a servant, waiting on mithrun hand and foot…I mean he gives mithrun a foot massage but no one told him to do all that lmfao

he's also not the only one to care for mithrun. pattadol is shown to worry for him and milsril was the one to start taking care mithrun in the first place after he…...y’know. speaking of which-

they probably met when kabru was a kid!- neither of them showed signs of recognizing each other the entire time mithrun was introduced nor when they were together. and im pretty sure KABRU of all people would show some kind of recognition if they'd met before. it's kabru!!! the people person!!! mr. "i-noted-down-50+-characters-in-this-dude's-backstory-for-fun-and-actually-enjoy-social-gatherings"

you would think some kind of memory would come back to him especially after hearing mithrun’s backstory if milsril had even told kabru about him as a kid. but nope. it’s just fan speculation unless there's a side comic suggesting otherwise that i haven't seen

mithrun doesn't care about kabru, his shapeshift double looked like shit!- it's obviously because of mithrun's (then) lack of desires that it looked like that, but they really grow on each other

i think it's safe to assume it'd look more like kabru after they spent so much time together (also laios can barely even remember kabru's name..also saw his face multiple times and didn’t recognize him when they talked for the first time)

mithrun is racist!- he’s actually the least likely character to be racist since he lost his desires and that includes a desire for superiority over others. he even calls his past self out on that part of himself. the other elves in that side comic were being just as racist to shorter lived races but just didn’t use ‘outdated slurs’

(unfortunately literally every main character in dunmeshi is at least a lil prejudiced, but I believe it’s worldbuilding and a sign of the times rather than a reason ryoko kui is giving to hate each character)

taking care of others is a pain in the ass!- saying this as a reason kabru and mithrun shouldn't be together is basically saying disabled people shouldn't be allowed to have romantic relationships because they're a "burden"...if someone is actually willing to put in the work, then let them be.

that's not even all of their relationship, mithrun is the fighter of their duo and kabru would've been killed by the shapeshifter or something if he'd fallen down the hole on his own since he sucks at fighting monsters. mithrun helps collect ingredients for cooking every time, too (barometz fruits and griffin egg). he pulls his weight and then some!! i feel like people forget that part of mithrun a lot somehow.

+senshi literally cooks for everyone all time. it's kind of an important aspect of the narrative.

+also, while it is a popular fan thing I see around that kabru handfeeds mithrun, he literally never does lol this is mithrun using his own hands to eat:

also here we have him washing his own body

just saying because people like to treat mithrun like a baby even though the narrative respects him as a capable adult who also has special needs because of an accident. he’s captain for a reason

kabru hates taking care of mithrun!- not exactly, he was initially surprised and put off but got used to it quickly. i’m sure he’s grateful for all the times mithrun saved him from a monster and teleported them out of danger as well

he even starts doing “unnecessary” things for mithrun’s comfort and safety like when mithrun pushes himself too hard fighting, even after his mission to take care of him was complete when the canaries came back

here is even kabru resting while mithrun keeps watch (mithrun let him sleep for 5 hours before waking him up from the nightmare earlier, too):

there's nothing more to their relationship!- they actually have had a very tight and consistent dynamic since they met and they incite the most change within each other by the end. kabru is the one who inspires mithrun to create new desires so he doesn't waste away, and mithrun is the first person we see kabru being genuine with and it leads him to be more honest with others by the end instead of tiptoeing around everyone all the time (that mask was also the reason some ppl initially disliked kabru…)

kabru’s relationship with mithrun is honestly so important for his character and vice versa, but it’s often disregarded because of one over exaggerated aspect of it (an aspect that isn’t even the first way they interact with each other) or because people want to just straight up ignore it for some reason 🥲🥲

kui dedicates many panels to them that don't particularly serve the narrative as a whole in order to demonstrate this and i think that's pretty significant

you're taking this too seriously!- as if i'm the first person in the world to be crazy about a ship or the characters 😭 i love analyzing text and it's upsetting to see them mischaracterized when kui lays out the characters so clearly and deliberately

also they end up touching each other like all the time and have the kind of canon validation most ppl can only dream of lol i feel so insane look at this:

and this is just when they're first getting to know each other cuz there's a fuckload more

kinda hard to explain how i don't actually need them to get married or whatever but i'd die on this hill for them and i enjoy their dynamic immensely

haha you thought you were reading ship discourse but it was actually a character analysis 🤪🤪🤪

also don’t somehow take this to mean I think anyone has to ship them, I just need everyone to understand these accusations kind of don’t make sense especially when they can also apply to other pairs or characters

bonus kabru just looking at mithrun:

[shanastoryteller]

Happy holidays! Lady mo please?

a continuation of 52 53 54 55 56 57 58 59

Jiang Yanli does not often feel old. Her golden core does not keep her eternally young like it does her brother, does not prevent the more persistent illnesses from plaguing her, but it does east the aches and pains non cultivators her age often complain of, does keep her skin youthful without the aid of strange poultices and she’ll probably never need dyes to keep her hair dark. But she feels old now, watching Xuanyu and Lan Wangji fumble around one another, watching her struggle for the affection of a husband who might care for her, but does not treat her with care.

At least by the time she married Zixuan, he’d told her that he loved her.

 “What was all the commotion about?” Zixuan asks, arms encircling her waist as he tugs her back against his chest now that they’re back in their own quarters.

“Your cousin got drunk and pissed off the wrong people. Again.”

He huffs, his breath warm against her neck. “Yanli. You know that’s not what I’m talking about. I know A-Yao thinks I’m stupid, but even I notice servants running about and clan leaders and their wives going missing. Especially when one of them is mine.”

“A-Yao doesn’t think you’re stupid,” Jiang Yanli says, even though he kind of does. He thinks most people are stupid and Zixuan has at least grown out of taking it personally. That doesn’t mean she has to rub it in. “Xuanyu was just – a little upset. About things.”

“Lan Xichen likes her. Lan Wangji’s kid adores her. And we all saw what Lan Wangji thinks,” he says. Defending is also not the same thing as caring, but she doesn’t say that. “A-Yao even calls her our sister. Do you remember how long it took him to call me brother? It seems like it’s going well.”

If it had gone a little less well, she’d be less distraught.

Jiang Yanli is debating how much she can say without revealing Xuanyu’s pregnancy – enough people know that it won’t stay a secret for long, but Zixuan is terrible at faking surprise – when there’s a loud, frantic knocking at their door.

Zixuan frowns and goes to open the door.

“Fuck off,” slurs a familiar, beloved voice.

Jiang Yanli hides a smile and goes to stand next to her husband.

A-Cheng is standing there, sort of, considering he’s mostly being supported but a long-suffering Li Jun. “Meimei said she won’t deal with him anymore.”

“Ah,” Zixuan says, already resigned.

A-Cheng stumbles forward, grabbing her wrist and tugging her towards the table. He blearily glares at Zixuan. “Go away.”

He sighs, leaning down to kiss her and then saying, “I suppose I’ll be in a guest room.” He makes a face, remembering that the tower is full of foreign disciples. “Somewhere.”

He’s going to end up sleeping in their son’s room and A-Ling is going to complain about it. Loudly.

“Good night,” she says, barely keeping from laughing as she closes the door on Li Jun side eyeing Zixuan. Her sect has never completely forgiven Zixuan for being a teenage boy, not matter that she’s spent over a decade in the Jin rather than the Jiang.

She lets A-Cheng pull her down beside him at the table, leaning his head on his arm while he stares at her. She pours him a cup of water that she hopes he’ll drink. “Are you all out of sorts because of Xuanyu too?”

His face goes blank then it creases and he’s turns to hide it in the bend of his elbow.

With the first stirrings of genuine alarm, Jiang Yanli realizes he’s crying.

“A-Cheng? A-Cheng, what’s wrong?” she asks, putter her arm over his back and pulling him into her side like she used to when they were kids.

The words come out muffled, but he says, “I hate him. How could he – I hate him.” Then, quieter, in a tone that doesn’t match the words at all, “I hate him.”

She runs through everyone who’s here, every cultivator she saw A-Cheng speak to, but it’s a fool’s errand. No one gets to him like this. No one but –

“Wei Wuxian came back.”

[charlie-lec-stories]

One too many // CL16 & MV1

Pairing: Charles Leclerc / Original Female Character / Max Verstappen

Summary: When you have one too many it's great to have two boyfriends.

Warnings: Alcohol, suggestive dancing, suggestive talk, wholesome Charles and overprotective Max.

Author’s Note: I almost forgot I wrote this, the Vegas GP reminded me of it, took a while to edit but is finally done. Rate: +16 (descriptions of violence)

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"It's Friday theeeeeen... Then Saturday, Sunday, WHAT?!".

Her silver dress moved around as her hips skillfully followed the tempo of the song. She was an incredible dancer, Max and Charles loved that about her and they equally loved the little shows they got to enjoy whenever she decided that the world was worthy of seeing her dancing on a table under the ever-changing lights of some club. What they didn't love was how unable she was to say no, and when Lando gave her another drink and she accepted it gladly, they both knew that they were in for a long night. Max had to drink some himself to stop the urge of going to that table, pick her up and take her home and Charles was just following her around, letting her be while also trying to keep her safe. They both had different approaches to the relationship, they had no trouble sharing with each other, but Max had a hard time with outsiders. He hated when other people looked at Charles or Y/N, he was convinced that everyone had second hand intentions and was constantly worried that someone could just not care about boundaries. This fear was mostly with Y/N, since she wasn't only a woman but also an eye-catching one. Men were trying to win her over all the time and he was sure that she'll never cheat on him and Charles, but the chances of crossing paths with a guy who could refuse to listen to a no made him want to keep her safe at home and never let her out again. Charles, on the other hand, had no problem with other people looking at his partners, actually, it made him quite proud. He loved to show her off and how pretty she was, and to show people how much of a champion his boyfriend was. He loved it when people would look at Y/N or listen to her talk and he could tell that they were thinking "Charles, you lucky bastard". He knew that people could be mean and sometimes disrespectful, but he loved how carefree she was and didn't have the heart to rain on her parade, so instead of trying to take her home, he just followed her around and kept an eye on her.

"And here's a Monster with vodka for you, darling". Max heard Lando say as he handed Y/N yet another drink. Enough was enough.

"No need for another drink, Schat". (Babe). He quickly grabbed the glass and moved it away from her. His British friend looked back at him frowning, probably because he didn't catch what Max said over the loud music. "You've had enough, mijn liefje". (My love).

"But Maaaaax". She whined and that only made the Dutchman feel even more sure that they had to call it a night.

"C'mon, let's go". She sighed and he helped her down the table. It was messy, she had zero balance and her dress was too short, making it harder to bring her drown without exposing her too much. Charles walked up to them to help but the monegasque's presence just made Y/N a lot less focused and she ended up falling on Max. He caught her and placed her securely on the floor, where she quickly threw herself at Charles and wrapped her arms around his neck while Max looked for her purse to finally go home.

"You are the most handsome man on Earth, Charles". She slurred her words a lot over the music, but Charles understood perfectly. He smiled wide at her. Even if she had admitted before that she used to feel like he was out of her league for years, he was the one that felt lucky that she ever laid eyes on him.

"Thank you, mon amour. You are the pretties girl ever". (My love). She giggled and he couldn't help but feel his heart warm up at the action. She was really cute when she was drunk.

"Okay, I think we're ready to go, are we?". Max asked Charles once he walked back to him with Y/N's purse in hand. The girl moved her gaze from Charles to Max and smiled drunkly at him.

"You can take me wherever you want, Maxie". She bit her lip while shamelessly checking him out and Max laughed out loud, he found her extremely funny when she flirted. She suddenly changed her expression to a frown.

"Is everything alright, Schat?".

"Bathroom". Was all she let out while she ran away. Max and Charles sprinted off behind her but she was thinner and scurried away between the mass of bodies easier than them. When they finally made it to the women's bathroom, after pushing their way though with much difficulty, she was already coming out. They were a few meters away when they saw a man approach her. They started arguing immediately and Max's protective instinct just switched on. "I said no!".

"You heard the lady, she said no". Max looked the guy up and down, putting his big frame to good use, puffing his chest out a little and feeling encouraged by Charles standing straighter next to him, ready to back him up. "Fuck off".

"Get your own bitch, dude, I found this one first". The man grabbed Y/N's wrist possessively and she started pulling her hand away, trying her best to break the grasp.

"I said fuck off. Do as you're told or I'll break your fucking face". The guy must have seen the killer glint in Max's eyes because he was letting go of Y/N's hand and running off in a second. "We're going home". He stated. "Now".

Y/N fell asleep the second they got on the Uber, she rested her head on Max's shoulder and grabbed Charles hand, sighing. They were close to their house and when they made it, they didn't have the heart to wake her up. Charles picked her up while Max paid the driver. The Dutchman opened the door to the building and they walked in, inside the elevator the space was narrow so Max covered Y/N's head the best he could so she couldn't hit it with the walls and Charles moved her a little make himself and her fit inside. They were both glad to be home, Y/N was a handful when she drank but the night went pretty good compared to others. The elevator stopped at their floor and Max unlocked the door to the loft. Charles carefully walked out and into their home, then went straight to the bedroom. He placed his girl on the bed and took off her heels. She murmured something but didn't wake up. He could hear Max in the kitchen, probably getting water and then go to the bathroom to grab an aspirin from the first aid kit. Their girlfriend was up for a hell of a hungover the next morning. He moved her to make her laid on her side and unzipped her dress. Max walked in and placed the pill and the water bottle on one of the nightstands and went to the closet to grab an old shirt for Y/N. Charles took her dress off and Max handed him the shirt, the monegasque looked back at his boyfriend with a stern look when he noticed that the shirt was a Red Bull one.

"What? She used one of yours the other night". Max defended himself, walking close to his boyfriend. Charles scoffed.

"She had her PJs in the laundry basket. They are clean now". Charles argued, both of them trying to keep their voices down.

"I won the last race. I want her wearing my shirt. Stop messing around or I'll ask you to wear one too". Charles quickly pecked Max's lips then laughed at his childish behavior, putting the shirt on Y/N anyways. The whole conversation and all the movement finally woke her up.

"Where are we?". She asked softly, Charles caressed her cheek and moved the hair out of her face.

"We are home, Amour". She smiled and grabbed his hand.

"Great. I like home". Max chuckled.

"Good to know you like home, Schat". He sat on the bed next to her and started moving at the sheets so she could get under them, but her drunken mind was going somewhere else. He felt her sneak her hands under his shirt and run her nails over his abs. "Stop playing around, you're drunk, nothing's happening tonight".

"Ugh, you're boring". She turned her attention to Charles and her hand went directly to the button of his jeans, he grabbed her hand gently and pushed her down on the bed.

"You heard Max, no action tonight, Amour". She huffed, frustrated.

"But I'm horny as fuck". Max took off his jeans and shirt, putting on some shorts he found lying around. Charles laughed when he noticed that those were his, Ferrari's logo at the edge of the right leg, but he didn't tell Max.

"No sober, no consent". Said Max as he got into bed and tugged her close to him, making room for Charles who was also taking his clothes off to get more comfortable. He grabbed some Mercedes shorts that Toto gave him as a joke-gift when he stated dating Y/N and then went to bed. If Max was wearing something Ferrari and Y/N a RBR shirt, then it was fair he wore something from Mercedes, right?

"Okay, but we have to do it in the morning". She turned around so Max could hug her from behind, while Charles laid in front of her, snuggling close. She buried her face on his chest and inhaled his scent. They moved as close as possible and fell asleep in a blink.

The light coming from the window woke Charles way earlier than he wanted to wake up, the warm feeling on his face comforting, but his eyes hurting. Y/N was still in his arms, sound asleep, and Max next to her, awake and face up, his right arm covering his eyes. They forgot to draw the curtains before going to bed but they were both too lazy to get up and fix it. Charles loved days like this, where they could stay in bed all day if they wanted to, cuddling, watching movies and chatting. They spent all of their time together, working on the same field and living together, still, he never got bored or needed time alone. He just loved to be close to them both. He knew that Max liked that too, even if he didn't express it that much. Max came from a pretty cold family, while Charles came from a warm one. His parents were lovely, and he had a close relationship with his mother, even more since his father passed away. Max, on the other hand, was kind of distant with his mother, even thought he loved her a lot, and was forced to be civil with his father, who he strongly disliked. It was weird for Max to finally end up with a family that was this warm with him, who cared so much about him. So he enjoyed every second they had together. The little family they created was Max's most precious treasure and he cherished it with his whole heat. They stayed laying on bed for a while, until Max couldn't take it anymore and got up. He draw the curtains and then went to the bathroom. Y/N moved closer to Charles and he kissed her head, she still smelled like champagne and even though he loved the smell, she still needed a shower. The sound of Max flushing the toilet woke her up and she stirred a bit, moving away from Charles. She opened her eyes and smiled at him, then she moved around to look at Max, but she couldn't find him. Charles giggled at her pout.

"He's in the bathroom". She turned around again and brushed her nose with his. He went down for a kiss but she moved away. Now it was his turn to pout.

"My breath is terrible". Max laughed from the bathroom doorway.

"Doesn't surprise me, Schat. You mixed almost everything on stock and then threw up in the bathroom". She groaned and drop her head on the pillow, closing her eyes. The two men chuckled.

"Don't laugh at me. I'm suffering". She started getting up. "I'm never drinking again".

"You said that last Monday". Charles reminded her.

"And the one before". Max added, she just flipped them off.

"Fuck you both".

"Yeah, you tried that last night". Max told her when she finally walked up to him on the doorway to the bathroom.

"Really?". She walked past him and prepared everything to brush her teeth.

"Yes. Nothing happened, of course, but you're a persistent woman, Amour". Max went back to the bed and just then noticed that he was wearing the Ferrari shorts. He groaned and Charles let out a burst of laugher, Max sending him a killer gaze. Y/N walked out of the bathroom to find Charles spread out on the bed while Max took off his shorts.

"Oh, I guess we're picking up where we left off?". She walked to Max and kissed him fondly, her minty breath mixing his. But her head started hurting and she had to step away. "Ugh, my head is killing me".

"Maybe you should sleep a little more, Schat". Max suggested, ignoring completely the effect the kiss had on him.

"Here, take the aspirin". Charles passed her the pill and the water bottle. She took them and he got up, going to the bathroom too. Max went back to the bed and Y/N swallowed the pill with some difficulty. They heard Charles brushing his teeth too and she followed Max back into bed. They started kissing again, but at some point he pulled away, knowing that they all needed more sleep to recover from the night out.

"I want to be in the middle again". She told him and Max rolled his eyes.

"You're so needy". She hit his shoulder but he let her take his place anyways. Charles walked out and went straight back to bed. They resumed the position they were all in before.

"Can I have my kiss now? We both brushed our teeth, Amour". Y/N giggled and moved close to him, grabbing his face and pulling him in for a kiss. Their lips moved in sync for a while, until Charles started to feel the same effect Max felt before and broke the kiss. "Let's stop here and get some more sleep. You need it, Y/N".

"Okay, but we have fun when we wake up". Max chuckled behind her and kissed her shoulder.

"Of course, Schat".

They all fixed their positions to get more confortable and tried to go back to sleep again. Charles and Max grabbed each other's hand and rested them on Y/N's waist, Charles running his thumb in circles over Max's hand. The boys were almost asleep when Y/N spoke up.

"Thank you for taking care of me". She whispered it, vulnerability dripping from her words. "I know that I can be a handful". She sighed and they both hugged her tighter. "I love you both, so much".

"We love you too, Amour". Charles kissed her forehead. "You don't have to thank us for taking care of you. We'll always look after you".

"Always. No matter what, Schat".

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Okay! I hope you guys liked it! I'm in the process of editing three more stories, so more content will be uploaded soon. As always, thank you for reading.

[etherealily]

𝒮𝐻𝒜𝑅𝒟𝒮 // 🇳​​🇦​​🇹​​🇪​ ​🇯​​🇦​​🇨​​🇴​​🇧​​🇸​.

Nate Jacobs + Fem!reader. Warnings : Dark. SFW, but discretion advised. Slur used.

This one is loooong.

Part 1 : Whiplash

Part 2 : 9 Lives

Part 3 : Blessed

Part 5 : Eighteen

Part 6 : Sin

You do NOT have permission to repost and/or translate any of my fics.

Desc. : Bender? Nah, bend...her (to your will).

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Nate didn't really seem the type to get anxious.

Okay, scratch that. He got anxious when you weren't there to high-five him before a game.

But even that didn't come close to whatever the fuck he was feeling when he called you that evening, yelling as if you'd killed his fucking cat, or something.

"Come faster, come faster!", he urged, ignoring you as you informed him you were only human, and you were on your way as fast as possible. The lewd joke was right there, and he didn't take it. Something was seriously wrong.

"Why the hell are you so jumpy?"

"I'll explain when you get here. Slight change of plans. You're wearing something... conservative, yeah?"

"What?"

"Like, jeans and a T-shirt is fine, I guess.", he muttered, on the other end of the line, as if he was mentally picturing exactly what he wanted you to be wearing.

"Did you think my original plan was to show up in lingerie?"

"Jesus fucking Christ, stop being so fucking defensive!"

That was a slur that you just heard in his voice. "Are you drunk?"

"You're scarily good at this."

"Why are you drunk already?" Wasn't even dark yet.

"Can you just fucking drive, please?"

You rolled your eyes, taking a small moment to sadistically picture his head caught in the wheel, before placing your phone down and speeding up the car that unfortunately had to relive the trauma of driving because Nate Jacobs told it to.

The Jacobs household was infuriatingly stereotypical. Of course he'd have a pretty spectacular front doorstep. It was almost designed to lure you in.

You weren't even allowed to ring the doorbell, he answered the door much before. That was a shame. You wanted to be the one forcing him to come somewhere reluctantly, for once.

"Don't speak unless spoken to." Well, hello to you, too.

"What?"

"It's not just us."

No, no, no, no.

"Nate, you fucking asshole.", you hissed.

"I didn't know! My brother found out you were coming over and told my parents, so they cancelled plans to meet you."

"Why?"

"'Cause our Dad's a jerk, and my Mom's probably going to judge you, and my brother's a coward who hates me."

That was way too much Jacobs drama for one single minute, and you were not even two steps into the house.

"Wait, just-"

"It's fine, just sit next to me, shut up, and don't like... make eye contact."

"Am I meeting your family or getting into the cage with a fucking tiger?"

"Also, don't cuss.", he warned, pointing a finger at you and guiding you by your shoulders further into the abyss he called a home. "Smile. A lot."

Was it really even a normal family dinner if you had to be prepped this much? No, probably not.

"Hey, look who finally showed up!", he chuckled, the fakest breeze in his voice as he steered your shoulders towards a chair.

The rest of the Jacobs family looked up at you.

And suddenly, you'd have been fine clinging to Nate, because he was evidently the mildest of them. Rich freaks.

"Oh, the project partner." His mother, laying plates down on the table before patting your head, was a sight to behold. "Bit late.", she remarked, sickening sweetness lacing her tone as she stared pointedly at Nate behind you as if you couldn't fucking see it.

"Yeah, well, she's just learning to drive, y'know? Goes really slow."

Oh, boo-fucking-hoo, mama's boy, just say you had no intention of having your family here tonight.

"Nate, you never told me she could legally drive."

That must be the brother - the coward. He looked like he'd fucking rip you apart with just a glare.

"I didn't tell you anything.', he mumbled, more for you than him, before making his voice louder. "Y/N, this is my brother, Aaron, Aaron, Y/N."

His eyes made your skin crawl. Like you were a weapon he'd just been able to use against Nate.

"And, uh, my dad. Dad, this is, uh-"

You had no idea when your name had become so hard for him to pronounce, the way he was unable to get it out.

"Y/N, yes, I heard. I'm Cal. Cal Jacobs."

You'd take Nate forcing a gun down your throat to the feel of Cal's hand shaking yours any day.

In comparison, Nate's gun was basically the gentlest thing you'd ever be able to feel. A caress, essentially.

"Sit, sit.", he instructed, gesturing at you to do as he said in his own house or else. "So."

He was so fucking drunk. You could see it in his eyes.

Both Cal and Nate Jacobs were shitfaced.

Nate, you understood, because after hearing his description, even you seemed to need liquid courage to get through a dinner with his drunk dad.

"So.", responded Nate, blankly, as he sat down next to you, as promised.

The chairs you were on were fancy but seemed tired, in a way. Like they were putting up a strong front.

"What, pray tell, is this famous project that you've apparently been sneaking out for, according to Aaron?"

Oh, that was the problem! The sneaking out! Oh, that was okay, that was in your jurisdiction, you could just fix it. Make it sound like there was no other time to meet up. Cool cool cool.

"It's just this thing for psychology. About athletes and superstitions."

"My Nate doesn't have any superstitions. He wins because he's the best.", interjected his mother, as if you'd been holding a gun to his face and she'd just jumped in front of him. You looked at the giant plate she'd just set down. Fucking steak.

With a knowing glance at Nate, you nodded. "Yes, but jocks don't really like admitting it. So I just ask him about his buddies who do have superstitions. Seeing as he has none of his own."

You didn't bother to look at the fuck-you-so-much glare he was sending your way.

"Oh, yes, Mom, Nate's just the best. Don't you think he's just the best, Y/N?", cooed Aaron, clearly hinting at something only he and Nate were in on.

"Yes, yes, he's very good at what he does."

"What he does?"

"I mean, you are talking about him as QB, right?"

He took a gulp of water, nodding as he searched into your eyes for some tell that he'd expected you to have. "Right."

Nate subtly shook his head after you frowned at him. Let it go.

"So, you've taken psychology."

His dad didn't really seem the jerk that Nate had made him out to be. Sure, he had the whole terrifying handshake thing going, but he wasn't all bad. He was the only one with his sanity intact, and the fact that he was plastered yet normal was both relieving and mildly concerning.

"Yeah."

"How come?"

"Always been interested in how it works."

"Can you read minds?"

"Essentially."

"Read mine."

"I... don't know you well enough."

"Later, then. When we know each other a bit better. Meanwhile, dig in."

Involuntarily, your gaze turned back to the asshole you'd had the misfortune of interacting with for the past three weeks, and he nodded, either telling you you did well, or giving you permission to eat.

Either way, your mouth was now shut and would continue to be unless someone forced it open. The awkward clinks of glasses and clangs of cutlery rang through the room, battling fruitlessly to dissolve the tension.

"How's the food?"

Why was Nate trying to get you to talk?

"Oh, great, I really like it."

Nate's mother smiled at that. "Well, thanks. It's actually a new recipe I found on some obscure old cooking show tape my mother had recorded, back in her day! God, I'm telling you, those were simpler times."

Oh. So Nate hadn't cooked. Couldn't say you were surprised.

"Well, it's lovely.", you replied, smiling down at the garbage you had to put into your system. It was nothing personal, really, steak was just gross.

"I must say, Y/N, you're so much more polite than that girl. She was a real-"

"Mom. Mom.", warned Nate, shaking his head and waving his hand in front of his throat in a cut it out motion."She's friends with Maddy."

The entire table suddenly went silent, as if he'd just confirmed your involvement in a pyramid scheme. "Oh.", said Aaron, and his fucking eyes showed you he was full of pure mirth. "That's interesting."

"You're friends with both Nate and Maddy?", questioned Mrs Jacobs, as if trying so desperately to figure out your intentions for her baby boy.

"I'm friends with Maddy, and have been for... basically my whole life. And, yeah, I guess now I'm friends with Nate for the project. I don't get why it's so-"

"She's pretending to be her friend, Mom, alright? It's a childhood loyalty thing, but no one likes Maddy, she's a fu- she's not likeable."

Oh, so now Nate could suddenly write out your entire story and replace it with a script of his own making?

Acting as if she'd just dodged a cancer scare, she placed her hand on her chest, sighing in relief. "Thank god. You could've said that, dear. I was worried for a moment there."

You looked back down at the food. You couldn't shake the feeling that your lack of response had been a form of betrayal, though it was rooted in fear.

"So you and Nate are friends?"

"Yeah."

"Why?"

I don't know, Aaron, why do people befriend psychopaths? To save their own asses, of course.

"I mean... what do I even say to that?", you laughed, and it was supposed to mock him, but it just showed how nervous you really were. Fuck. Blood in shark-infested waters. "I guess he's... a nice guy, so, y'know."

Even you didn't believe that. Even NATE didn't believe that.

"That's a new one."

You nodded, clearing your throat as you continued to work on slicing up your steak. All three Jacobs men watched the piece go into your mouth and you wanted to throw it right back up.

"You think he's hot?"

"What?"

"Nate. My lil' bro. You think he's hot?"

"Aaron, honestly!", muttered his mother, shaking her head as if this was all just a playful banter session. "Stop it. Nate said they're friends, so they're friends."

Your phone buzzed.

'I really didn't know they'd be here.'

'Shut up.'

'Ur doing great.'

'I said shut up.'

'Lol.'

"Nate, didn't you tell her we've got a strict no-phones-at-the-table rule?"

You stuffed the phone back in your pocket, as well as any hope you'd get out of this house anytime soon.

"I mean, you're a total smokeshow. And he's..."

"Aaron."

Aaron smirked through his chewing, winking at you. "Well, he's attracted to smokeshows. Total match. But you're, what, a cheerleader? That's his real type."

"No, I'm not a cheerleader."

He sucked in breath, sharply, tutting as he shaked his head. "Tough luck."

"Aaron.", warned Nate, sucking his teeth. "Shut up."

"I'm just saying. It's not surprising he hasn't dicked you down yet."

THAT escalated fast.

"Aaron! No cussing at the table, and especially not in front of guests.", hissed Mrs. Jacobs, as if her youngest son's entire vocabulary didn't consist of the word 'fuck'. "I'm sorry, he gets like this when he teases his brother."

"Or maybe he... oh, wait, didn't he invite you here alone first?", mused Aaron, frowning in mock curiosity.

Nate's hand found your knee under the table, patting the side of it as if he could tell you were losing it. There was some kind of psychological warfare underfoot, and you weren't in on the joke, the origin or the punchline. You were being blindsided. Let it go. Fuck what his eyes told you, you'd fucking riot if you didn't get out of there right now.

Cal, who'd been perfectly silent for all this time, leaned back in his chair, his fork down and apparently, his booze-filled blood shooting up. "I'm curious, too. In more polite words than that. Why are you and Y/N just friends?"

Okay, this was clearly not your jurisdiction. This treatment was not because he'd, like, broken curfew or something.

"Dad, we're just partners. Project partners."

"Shame. She's a knockout."

Okay, Aaron saying that was creepy enough.

"No, seriously, Y/N, you're really beautiful. Nate couldn't do better if he tried." Sounded backhanded, and it probably was. "If you're not attracted to him, it's kind of an insult to me, isn't it?", he inquired, innocently, his eyes twinkling. "Aren't I good looking?"

"What the fuck are you guys doing?" It was weird seeing Nate playing the white knight in your story and not the dragon, but hey, you'd take it.

"I mean...", continued Cal, taking a bite of his food, all the while gazing at you. "Unless your issue is just with his personality. Because then..."

What. The. Fuck.

"Y'know.", said Cal, offhandedly, as if the entire fucking table didn't know what he was implying. "Just food for thought."

"What the fuck are you guys doing?", he repeated, his voice sounding more strained by the minute.

"Nate."

"No, Mom, I will fucking cuss, if they're sitting here being fucking assholes about it!"

"Don't you DARE talk to me like that, son!", yelled Cal, and suddenly, you felt like a voyeur zooming in on someone else's life, someone else's argument, someone else's issues.

Aaron lifted up his hands in defense, standing up as well. "Hey, man, I'm just saying. You're disappointing men everywhere if you don't hit that."

"Oh, you're one to talk, you bitchless waste of FUCKING space."

"One goddamn night! One goddamned night without this bullshit, please!"

"Oh, come on, Marsha, you know full fucking well you're no innocent here! You've raised these boys up so goddamn weak that they can't even fucking do their own laundry, and CLEARLY can't fucking learn RESPECT!"

Evidently the no-cuss-rule was out.

Nate's hand slammed down on the table next to you so hard your plate shook, and suddenly, you wished you had shown up in lingerie. At least the mother would've kicked you out as soon as you'd walked in.

Your eyes stayed on your fork, the shitty fucking steak, and you waited. For what, you didn't know. But eventually, Nate sat back down, and so did the other two Jacobs men.

Okay. Phew.

And then Nate muttered 'faggot', and suddenly, Aaron was ushering you into a room - Nate's room, he informed you, in a hurry - and you were locked in. Screams, the sound of things slamming on the floor, and a distinct crack ensued.

FUCKING CHRIST.

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The light from the living room beamed into the room with the monogrammed pillows -pathetic, you had to remember to mock him for it later- about twelve minutes later.

You knew that because you'd been keeping track.

The entire evening was surrounded by a lack of clarity, and after whatever had happened out there that you were not allowed to be privy to, thankfully , you were now completely in the dark as to what the whole stiff, insinuation during dinner was all about. What, they thought you guys were hooking up, was that it?

But all that just dissipated once you saw Nate standing in the doorway, looking at you as if he had just accidentally broken your favourite toy on the playground at five years old. And he was even drunker than he was before.

And once more, you allowed your heart to break for Nate Jacobs.

Wait, no, scratch that.

Your heart broke for him, with none of your own volition. It just fucking happened.

"Are you okay?" What you were really asking was 'did he hurt you?', but you didn't say it.

He didn't respond, and instead took cautious steps toward you, as though you were a bomb he'd never learnt to dismantle before.

But the caution wore off quite fast, because suddenly, your hands were stroking his hair and he was clinging onto you like a vine. Or a python with its prey. TBD.

He kept muttering things into the crook of your neck, things that vaguely resembled 'I'm sorry', but, I mean, it was Nate.

That was usually followed by some kind of blackmail, right?

Blackmail, not pained moments when his mind led him to thoughts that made him grip tighter onto you, like the hug was his lifeline. RIGHT?

"I'm so fucking sorry."

Evidently, you'd heard him right the first time.

"It's okay. Shh. It's okay." At this point there was nothing else you could do except lie to him.

"I fucking hate him, he's a fucking asshole!", he grunted, his words muffled but strong in your hair.

"It's fine, I wasn't offended." You understood. People are weird when drunk. Not usually asking a minor to fuck them kind of weird, but maybe that was just your lack of exposure.

He pushed you away, looking at you as if you'd just suggested cannibalism or something even more sickening. "It's fine? You weren't offended? Y/N, my dad literally asked to fuck you! What, do you want him to, is that why you were looking at him like that?"

'He's sloshed, he's sloshed, he's sloshed.' , you reminded yourself, lest you punch him again.

"Nate-"

"No. I have a question.", he said, closing his eyes and then opening them wide for a moment. This told you that the liquor had just pierced his skull. "You- You fuck Shane Crestin, the biggest fucking cunt in the world, you wanna fuck my DAD, but you won't fuck ME?", he asked, his voice increasing in decibel and his finger repeatedly slamming against his chest, like he apparently wanted to do to you.

SLOSHED, SLOSHED, SLOSHED. Remember.

"Nate, I didn't fuck Shane, I don't want to fuck your dad, and I- I don't wanna fuck anyone!"

"Why not ME? Do you not like me? You think I'm a prick? I'm not good enough for your whore ass?"

"Nate, I'm just-"

"HOW ARE YOU SO FINE WITH MY DAD WANTING TO FUCK YOU?!"

"I'm not! It makes me sick, but-"

"SO WHY WON'T YOU SAY HE'S AN ASSHOLE? SAY IT! SAY IT!"

"Nate-"

"FUCKING SAY IT!"

You almost cried at how fast you had to dodge the lamp that came whizzing your way before crashing and disintegrating against the wall behind you.

It amazed you how you knew that this boy's mother and brother were probably still lingering in the same house, hearing this bullshit, and yet not a peep came out of them. Fucking jerks.

"Nate."

"I swear to god, Y/N, if you don't say it right now-"

"Fine, he's an asshole!"

He looked up at you. He didn't believe it. It's fine, you didn't give a shit anymore. It went without saying, and if he needed you to say it, he was an idiot. "Bullshit."

"You're not apologizing?"

"For what? Yelling? No, I'm not."

Deliberately obtuse, just like always.

Speaking of which, you were a hundred percent sure you'd been grazed at your temple. Your fingers returned from the site with red all over them.

"I could've been hurt." You displayed those fingers to him, right in front of the eyes, so he could better view the same scarlet gore you had to see in his first ever text to you, but he looked at them like you'd showed him his own face in the mirror.

'That's normal', his look said.

"You could've fucked my dad, too, but neither of those things happened tonight." This was what he actually said.

It was like he'd forgotten what happened two seconds ago. Like the shards of glass lying in front of his wall had always been there, and were nothing out of the ordinary.

"Okay, that's fucking it.", you scoffed, shouldering past him on your way out. You'd hoped he wouldn't stop you, but you'd known he would.

"No."

Okay, you'd expected 'wait', or something nicer.

"Shut up, Nate, don't push me."

"You're bleeding. The corner store doesn't have first-aid. I do."

He said it like that was the answer to everything. That you should never have any more questions about his actions.

You let him lead you back to the bed, the silence gnawing at you both. He seemed more than happy to let it devour him whole, seeing as he was tight-lipped and disinterested, almost, when he turned on the light in his bathroom, foraging around for his first-aid kit, or whatever.

He looked like he was about to go batshit for a second time that night, the frantic manner in which he was throwing stuff off his counter to find it, yanking the drawers open so forcefully they'd scream if they could.

Luckily, though, he found the damn thing, tossing it to you from where he stood. Catching it, you opened the box, wordlessly rummaging through for cotton or band-aids or something to keep your hand and eyes - and most importantly, mind - busy.

The cotton sitting nervously in your hand, you took tentative steps into the bathroom, wisely keeping your distance from Nate, who stood still, ruminating on something with one hand still on the drawer's handle.

You stood in front of the mirror.

The mirror lied to you. It always has, always will. Your damage looked minimal, but that was excluding the emotional one.

You looked away from your reflection's eyes to focus on the side of your forehead, and sometimes to your left, at the occassional huff that escaped him.

Mirror-you grimaced just like real-you, as you harshly rubbed at the skin around your cut. So much red.

At this point, it was impossible to avoid your own eyes, those essentially vapid pools of numbness at this point. You didn't know what was going on, and lord knew if you'd understand it even if it was explained to you like a five year old.

Because it couldn't be real. You couldn't be standing right next to the guy who almost maybe blinded you, maybe even KILLED you, had the impact been angled differently.

Your pain only seemed to be getting exacerbated the more cotton you used up. The piece of glass you were trying to remove from your temple was stubborn, like the man who helped transform it from its shape to a shard.

When you finally did remove it, you were quick to try to put a stopper to the gushing blood coming out of it, but the way you did it had you wanting to scream in agony.

"What the hell are you doing? You're supposed to dab, not rub.", he muttered, sucking in his breath sharply as he slapped your hands away, seeming furious at you for not knowing what to do after you get impaled by a piece of broken glass. "The rubbing makes it worse."

His finger turned your jaw toward him, and he snatched the cotton from you before dabbing softly at and around the wound where the little refracting fragment of glass had sat before, and intact, unblemished skin had sat once before that.

Dutifully grabbing a bottle of antiseptic from the first aid box, he tilted it so that it would gently stain the cotton, before pressing it to your temple, shushing you softly as you winced.

Jovially traumatizing what you imagined to be every single cell in the wound, the antiseptic finally fizzled out, its effect no longer sharp and concentrated and debilitatingly painful.

"You're a mess." His voice was so cold, so unkind, so... detached.

You're one to talk.

"Are you going to say anything?" He sounded almost... bored.

You stayed silent. If he thought you were going to give him more things to throw shit at you over, he was sorely mistaken.

He sighed, his jaw ticking slightly. "Y/N."

Your eyes moved away from the mirror behind him and back to his.

He paused his lazy movements to look down at you, your eyes, specifically, before gently bending down so he was suddenly looking up at them.

What that was supposed to achieve was unclear, but what it did affect was your ability to look away.

"I want to hear your voice.", he informed, his eyes moving between yours.

Like a bull craves the muleta.

Glancing down at him, you realized his eyes didn't match his tone. There was something almost dead about them.

"What do you want me to say?"

"Cuss me out, maybe? I don't know. I don't like the quiet."

"Why, 'cause it makes you think?", you scoffed.

"Yes, actually.", he replied, looking at you deadpan. "It does, and that's not really what I wanna do right now, okay?"

He wasn't bored, you realized. He was numb.

"Okay."

"So say something, damn it."

"About what?"

"Y/N. Listen to me when I'm talking to you. I don't give a shit. ANYTHING." He shook your shoulders as if that would cause you to spit out a good conversation in the aftermath of this night.

"Okay, uh... you promised me you'd listen to Queen with me."

He stared at you for a good while before his face softened, just enough for you to wonder if you'd imagined it, and then he frowned. "I did?"

"Yes."

"Then I will."

You nodded. "'Kay."

"Tell me about Queen."

"Look, man, I don't know-"

"Y/N.", he warned, his eyes narrowed in concentration as he reached for a band-aid, eyes never leaving your wound.

"Jeez, fine. Uh, 'We Will Rock You'. 'Bohemian Rhapsody'. 'Another One Bites The Dust'."

"That was them?", he mused softly, the words dying out a little before they reached your ears, as he ripped the cover open with his teeth, then unwrapped the band-aid.

"Yes. Freddie Mercury's the lead singer."

"The one with the teeth?", he inquired, pressing slightly on the band-aid to ensure it stuck.

The sheer dichotomy of what he was doing - cleaning up a wound caused by him that might have killed you- and what he was saying - some quip about the lead singer of some '70's band he'd barely heard of - was astounding.

"Yup." You popped your p, hoping that would echo around the room and fill the silence for long enough that Nate wouldn't pester you to talk again, which was the last thing you felt like doing.

He gazed at your wound for a little while longer before nodding. "Done. Don't touch it for another week, maybe two."

"Okay."

"And I'll get you, like, a blanket or whatever, let me just put this shit back."

"A blanket?"

"Well, yeah. You don't get cold? What are you, superhuman?"

"I'm not staying here. I'm going home."

"Like hell you are.", he laughed dryly, opening his drawer and carefully placing the box back in before moving to the sink again. His hands moved quickly, squeezing paste onto his brush. "Not this late."

You looked down at your watch. "It's nine."

"It's late."

You snorted. "Thought you were the badass curfew-less one. Now you're freaking out about nine p.m?"

Why were you even still talking to this... thing in front of you? Why were you arguing with him? You could just fucking walk out.

He rolled his eyes, his toothbrush being as thorough as possible for a couple minutes before he spat it out, gargling and then turning to look at you. "It's late."

"I'm not spending the night, Nate."

"You a sleep-talker? 'Cause that's crazy shit.", he said, spitting out his mouthwash and wiping with the back of his hand, walking past you as he opened a cupboard, and tossed a heavy-looking duvet down at your feet.

"Nate, I'm not staying over!"

"But the really creepy ones are the sleep-walkers, I'm tellin' you.", he continued, shaking his head as he picked and chose two of his pillows and threw them at your feet, too. "My cousin, back when we were eight, I woke up and found him, like, banging his head on the door. Ouija board shit, bro, I'm tellin' you."

It was clear he was blatantly ignoring you, but what infuriated you the most was that he expected you to sleep on the same floor which was strewn with dangerous, nigh invisible shards of glass.

"Nate!"

"No, seriously, I don't care if it's like, a medical condition or whatever, they're like the fucking Conjuring movie, bro!", he declared, throwing his hands up as he distractedly moved to the other side of his bed, now, checking his phone. "You're not one of 'em, right?"

"You're such a fucking asshole, I'm leaving."

"If you step out that door, I will fucking kill you."

What unnerved you was that his eyes never moved from his phone. This was as casual as his reply to his Mom asking what he wanted for breakfast or something.

Saying he'd kill you was like saying 'pancakes with butter' to him.

"What?"

"I'm going to kill you if you leave." , he huffed, tiredly. And this time, it was clear he really was bored. Bored of the conversation, bored of your resistance, bored.

"You're fucked up."

"Look, sweetie, we've both had a long day-"

"Don't fucking call me that."

He let out a breathy snicker, nodding. Almost like he'd been wondering when you'd call him out on it.

"Fair. Look, bitch, we've both had a long day...", he corrected himself, with a self-satisfied grin, before continuing, "... and I'm not letting you drive home alone with a bleeding forehead."

"I thought you fixed it."

"With the way you're yelling right now, the blood vessel you're about to pop could rip the bandage from the inside out. Look- I- I can't deal with this shit, Y/N, okay? Not tonight. So shut up and close the fucking door."

"My family's expecting me home."

He raised a brow, as if you'd just said something so pathetic he almost felt sorry for you - like you'd just said you still fucking watched Disney Channel, or something. "They know you're here?"

"No." As if.

"Where do they think you are?"

Oh, he'd expected you to have told them you were with another friend. Sorry to disappoint, asshole, but some people aren't as prepared to stay over because their friend had a psycho family.

"I'd rather not talk about it - I don't like to recall my lies."

His eyes widened, and it looked like, for the first time that entire, painful night, he was actually amused, and fuck you for being so pathetic, but you were actually glad you'd mitigated the agony, at least a little bit. "They still think you're at your internship? You didn't tell them?"

"Tell them what? That some jock thinks touching me is his good luck charm, so he stalked me, found out where I worked, and cost me my entire internship by barging in?"

"Or you could've just said your boss was a perv, and you quit."

"He wasn't a perv."

"I'm a guy. I can tell."

Wow, way to dig at an entire gender's ability to perceive danger.

You shook your head, rubbing your forehead. "What is your problem, Nate?"

"I care too much."

You laughed loudly at that, and he looked too tired to even be mad. "I just don't like the thought of you driving home alone at night, okay? Simple as that."

"Then don't think the thought."

"You're staying."

"Like hell I am."

He groaned, putting his phone back down and rubbing his face as he walked towards the front of the bed - towards you. "Why not?"

"Because I don't want to. Because my family-"

He rolled his eyes, reaching into your pocket and grabbing both your wrists to keep you from stopping him as he scrolled through your contacts - god, you had to get a fucking passcode.

"Maddy- no fucking way.", he mumbled, his thumb racing across the screen. "Cassie- one of Maddy's minions, so no- oh. Who's Lex?"

"Alexis."

"Oh, Alexis Howard? Lexi? She'll cover for you, right?"

"Not without telling Cassie. Now give me back my phone!"

"She won't tell Cassie. How's this? 'Lex, tell my family I'm sleeping over at yours, ok? Love you, xoxo!'", he read out, his voice attempting to mimic yours.

"Is that what you think girls talk like?"

"Yeah, with a scary amount of emojis."

"Misogynist."

"Badge of honour, baby. I'm sure Lexi, one of your best gal pals will cover for you."

Yes, of course, but that was besides the point.

"That's not the point-"

"The point is that you don't feel safe enough to fall asleep around me."

"What?"

"That hurts, sweetie."

"You know what else hurts?", you spat, pointing at the band-aid at your temple.

"It'll heal." He was still refusing to apologize.

════════════════════ ⋆ ♟️ ⋆ ══════════════════

"Smash or pass, uh... McKay."

You almost laughed right then and there. "Smash."

"Really?"

You looked up at his ceiling, imagining him up on the bed, judging your smashability-scale.

"Yeah, why not?"

"You could never do it, you know? Realistically. You're not his type."

"Shut up. Smash or pass... Kat."

"Pass. Hard. Pass."

"Why?"

"I should say it's because she's close to Maddy, but you and I both know the real reason is 'cause she's so fucking ugly that-"

"Alright, shut up."

"See, this is the problem with you girls. Just agree. She's ugly."

"I don't think anyone's ugly. I think it's all action-based."

"God, then you must think I'm hideous."

He scoffed at the silence that followed. "Ouch."

"I don't think you're hideous, Nate. Just extremely unattractive."

"Superlatives, really? Y'know, whatever, I deserve it. Uh... smash or pass, Shane."

"Uh... pass."

"Why?" The glee in his voice was evident and mildly amusing.

"He cussed me out after I said the date wasn't going well."

The laughter that escaped Nate seemed to go on for hours on end. "In the middle of the restaurant?!"

"We weren't in a restaurant."

"Where were you guys?"

"He took me to a club or something."

Nate's face came into your peripheral view as he peered over the edge of the bed to face you. "On a first date."

You nodded. "Yup."

"The guy's both a fucking tool and a miserable little cunt. Anything other than a restaurant is fucking unacceptable for a first date."

"I know, even a bowling alley's fine, but a club is stupid, right? I mean, like, at the very least a café."

He nodded, his mouth curling down slightly. "Yeah, at least. Bare minimum."

It was uncomfortable, him looking down at you with pity the same night that his father had embarrassed him and cussed him out. Wasn't right. "Well, whatever. Smash or pass, uh... Rue."

"Rue Bennett? We got history, so, uh, I dunno."

"History?"

"A miscommunication during prom.", he told you, shrugging, but it was clearly something much more serious. "She's hot when she's off the drugs, I guess."

You rolled your eyes and he smiled.

"Hey, Y/N?" He didn't move back to his pillow, instead letting his arms dangle off the edge of the bed as he reached and toyed with a strand of your hair, glancing down at you. "I'll leave you alone after tonight, okay?"

"What?"

"Like, I- tonight? It was... bad. And I'm... I guess what I'm trying to say is, I'm, I'm sorry. If you just, y'know, fist-bump me before every game, we'll be good. Okay? I won't bother you outside of that."

See, he said this, but his thumb kept returning to your lower lip every two seconds. You'd be a fool not to take this deal. But you'd be a liar if you said you remembered anything about life before Nate.

"Okay."

"You should get to sleep. It's two."

"What will you do?"

"Try to sleep.", he mumbled, his eyes moving away from you and towards the glass, which lay several feet away from you, on your left - almost like it was trying to reach your heart.

Your eyes followed his, and you sighed. "For the record, I don't want to fuck your dad."

"Yeah. I got that now."

"You gotta stop drinking, man."

He chuckled, nodding. "No. But thanks for the concern." Rolling back over, he left you staring at the ceiling once more, as if there were clues there as to the enigma that was Nate Jacobs.

════════════════════ ⋆ ♟️ ⋆ ══════════════════

When you'd pulled up to your driveway the next morning - Sunday - it hit you that you were free of Nate forever. Last night, you'd have probably not known how to feel about that. This morning? Fucking elated.

You didn't even have to draw out a map, or take a single moment to think it over - every single problem in your life over the last month could be traced to him.

So fucking yay. Good riddance.

And the next day, Monday, you realized something.

School had never been so fucking fun.

Your classes started making more sense, seeing as you no longer had to look over your shoulder for some motherfucker who'd slit his own throat if you didn't go where he wanted. Fucking yay.

No, seriously. That's it. We're done here. No more Nate. End of story.

...

Ha.

So gullible.

----

Nights after Nate had always been the hardest.

Because you always found yourself losing your sanity and you knew that the only person who could even remotely get your mind off it was Nate himself.

Maybe that was his allure.

Hurting you then comforting you.

Making you cry then wiping the tears away.

But that night, he wasn't there with a blunt or tequila. Hell, you'd have even taken the gun. And you should've been ecstatic that he'd finally left you the hell alone, but at this point you had no clue what you were supposed to be feeling.

The only thing you could do was block him. Show him how mad you were. In your past experience, that didn't really matter to him, but you were running out of options.

And you probably shouldn't have done that, because you might have gotten a heads up about Tuesday.

════════════════════ ⋆ ♟️ ⋆ ══════════════════

You should've had your guard up as soon as you saw Nate walk into the school library that Tuesday afternoon, his eyes somehow darker than when he'd asked you to your face, no less, if you wanted to bang his father. You had no clue whether you had to hide or just keep doing what you did.

Flight or flight was fucking useless.

But your guard wasn't up, at least not immediately, because it was Nate. Because he may terrify you and almost kill you, but he'd never hurt you, because he just... worked differently. Things that may make someone psychopathic, he thought were normal. No biggie.

You'd be lying if you said you weren't secretly hoping he'd come back to further provoke you, because not-being-mad at him was kind of a grey area for you. It wasn't your usual state of being.

The moment your guard went up, though, was when Aaron walked in behind him. Hands in his pockets. Did he have a knife in there? Money? Or would he just flip you off?

You didn't want to find out, but it also didn't seem like you had much of a choice.

[illdowhatiwantthanks]

Hi!!! I love your Amelia and Emily fics so much, I’ve basically binged them 😂 I was wondering if I could request an Amelia x reader fic where maybe reader is like 6 months pregnant with her and Amelia’s first child and has a bad history with her dad and her dad comes into the hospital with his new wife and her kid and it just stirs bad feelings for reader and Amelia comforts her? Maybe autistic reader? Thank you so much!

Thank you so much! 💕 I'm so, so glad you enjoy them! Also, thanks especially for an autistic!reader request, they're some of my favorites to write! Hope you enjoy! – illdowhatiwantthanks

The R Word

Amelia Shepherd x fem!autistic!reader Warnings: autism struggles, ableism, use of ableist slurs, overstimulation (the autism kind, not the sex kind), explicit language, pregnancy times (let me know if I've missed anything!) Word Count: 2.4k

Summary: It's a typical day working with a child in the ER when your estranged father shows up and makes you feel just as small and stupid and alien as he did when you were growing up. Amelia is there to comfort you and remind you of who you really are.

“No, Mommy!” the little girl wailed as she writhed on the hospital bed. “I want to go home!”

Her mom looked at you apologetically as she tried to soothe her child. You needed to get her vitals. Based on the mom’s description, you also probably needed to get IV fluids and an antiemetic in her. But you knew that wasn’t going to happen while the kid felt scared and overwhelmed. This wasn’t your first rodeo with kids in the ER. In fact, the other ER nurses often called you over when kids were difficult to work with. They called you the “bad kid whisperer.”

You knew better. They weren’t bad kids. They were usually just scared. There was a lot to be scared of at a hospital. And you were good with them because you understood better than most what it was like for your body and brain to feel so overwhelmed that you could no longer regulate your emotions. Being autistic was hard sometimes, it made you stand out, but this was a place where it made you stand out in a good way.

You lifted your hands to show the little girl that you were setting down all your medical instruments.

“It’s okay,” you said quietly, pulling the curtain closed around the bed. Sometimes making the space smaller helped. You bent down to her height, careful to keep your distance and not to touch her.

“I’m Y/N,” you said. “What’s your name?”

The girl didn’t answer, shaking as she sobbed.

You nodded. “It’s okay if you don’t want to talk right now. Do you feel like you can’t breathe or anything?”

The girl shook her head.

“Good. Then all this other stuff can wait, okay? I’m not gonna touch you. No needles, no thermometer, no heartbeat or anything until you feel a little calmer. We can wait.”

She seemed to calm down a bit when she realized you weren’t going to make her do anything, her sobs subsiding to the occasionally aggressive sniffle.

“Here,” you offered, pulling a tiny tech deck skateboard out of the pocket of your scrubs. “Sometimes when I’m scared or nervous, having something to do with my hands makes me feel better.” You rolled the skateboard toward her, and she started running it across the rails of the hospital bed, her breathing starting to calm.

“Better?” you asked.

She nodded.

You started taking her vitals and continued the conversation. “You think you can tell me your name now?”

“Maddy,” she whispered.

You smiled even as you read her temperature: 103.4. Pretty high. She was almost certainly dehydrated. “That’s a really cool name. Now, do you know why your mom brought you here?”

“I threw up,” she told you, lip quivering.

“Oh, man,” you commiserated. “That’s the worst. I hate throwing up.”

Maddy nodded.

“Did you throw up just one time or a lot of times?”

“A lot.”

You exchanged glances with the mom to make sure this information was accurate.

“She can’t keep anything down,” the mom worried, biting her nails.

“Okay. Well, that’s okay. We’re gonna help you feel better. First, we’re gonna get some fluids in you. Do you know what that means?”

She shook her head as you gathered the supplies and pulled on gloves.

“It means your tummy is so sick that when you drink water, it all just comes right back out. And that’s not good because your body needs water. Your heart and your lungs and all the things that make you healthy and strong, they need water. So since you can’t swallow it, we’re gonna put a little tube in your arm and send water through the tube. That way your body gets the water it needs. And we’ll send medicine and electrolytes and all kinds of other good stuff to fight the sickness, too. It’s like we’re sneaking weapons past the sick.”

This explanation seemed to cheer her up a bit. “Like a secret mission?” she asked.

You nodded conspiratorially. “Exactly like a secret mission. But to get all that good stuff in there, we’re gonna have to put a needle in your arm. Just for a second! It makes the path for the supplies to go in.”

Maddy seemed to think deeply about this, then nodded. You had her play with the skateboard while you placed the IV line, ensuring that she was comfortably positioned for a good hour or so of fluid intake.

“Thank you,” her mom mouthed to you, and you gave her a quick thumbs up before adding a few reminders to your chart–what to check in the next hour, etc.

Maddy, now calmer, took a good look at you for the first time, from your glasses to your fingers that twitched by your ears, to your stomach that protruded out past your waistline–you were six months pregnant.

“Why are you so fat?” Maddy blurted out.

“Madeline Grace!” her mom hissed.

“It’s okay,” you laughed. “My tummy looks like this because there’s a baby in there. But some tummies are just bigger than others, too, and that’s okay. All tummies are good tummies.”

“Where’s the daddy?” she asked, reaching out to brush her hand over your stomach.

“No daddy,” you explained. “This baby has two mommies. His other mommy works upstairs. On brains.”

“Brains!?” she squealed.

You nodded. “Yeah. She’s pretty cool.”

Just then, the relative calm of a midday ER was interrupted by a loud, brash voice, bursting through the doors, yelling at the nurses at the station.

“Where the fuck is my daughter!? Middle of the fucking work day. Unbelievable. Am I going too fast for you? Read my lips, sweetheart. Madeline. Y/L/N.”

You froze, any icy stream of panic running from the back of your neck all the way down to your heels. You’d know that voice anywhere. It was an angry voice, a coach’s voice, the voice that had yelled at you to “stay the fuck in the bleachers” when all you wanted was to sit in the car and breathe. The same voice that growled at you to stop “doing that shit with your hands, you look like a r*tard.” The same voice that told you over and over that you weren’t “stupid enough to be on the short bus,” but you were “too stupid to function in real life.”

You felt your brain start swirling, felt panic building in your chest. You knew he’d gotten remarried, of course you knew. But you didn’t talk to him, hadn’t talked to him in nearly a decade. You knew they’d had a kid, but you didn’t know it was this kid.

All the ER noises, the beeps of the machines, the buzzing of the overhead lights–were they getting brighter?–the clang of instruments being set down, wails, conversations, and above it all your dad’s voice. Your dad’s voice. It was too much. It was all way, way too much.

You felt your hands start to shake at your sides, your body swinging back and forth, and you had to stop. You had to stop. Your dad would kill you.

He threw back the curtain, and his jaw dropped when he saw you.

“You!?” he spat, looking down. “Are you pregnant!?”

Maddy seemed oblivious to the tension. “Daddy!” she called. “Her name is Y/N and she gave me this little skateboard and the water is fighting the sickness through my tubes and she has a baby in her tummy and the baby’s other mommy fixes brains.”

You tried so hard not to stim, but it was not working. 

“Don’t tell me you’re a nurse?! God, it’s a miracle you didn’t fucking stab her. You shouldn’t be holding any needles with those flappy arms. Probably shouldn’t be holding any babies either.” He shot out his hand and grabbed Teddy’s arm, which was wild to you. The audacity of the man to assume he had the authority to bother the trauma surgeon. “Yeah, honey, we need a different nurse over here. This one’s a r*tard.”

Teddy looked flabbergasted and deeply offended, but also concerned, as you clenched your teeth, hugging yourself, twisting your body back and forth. “It’s doctor, sir, and that word is not welcome at Grey-Sloan. Y/N is a perfectly capable medical professional. In fact, she’s one of our best, especially with kids.”

“I don’t know if you know this, but I feel like it’s my responsibility to tell you,” your dad whispered loudly to Teddy. “She’s got autism. She shouldn’t be handling tools or people or anything.”

Teddy pressed her lips together in frustration. “As I said, sir,” she repeated more forcefully. “Y/N is a perfectly capable medical professional, and we’re lucky to have her. But I’ll get another nurse over here for you. Y/N?”

Teddy beckoned you over, careful not to touch you, and led you to a quieter corner of the room.

“Who the fuck is that guy?!” she asked.

“M-my dad,” you stuttered. Everything in the room–sounds, lights, smells, all of it–seemed to be crashing over you again and again. As if you’d been knocked over by a wave and couldn’t get back up again because they just kept coming.

“You want to hang out in one of the on-call rooms for a bit?” Teddy suggested.

You nodded.

“Should I page Amelia?”

You shook your head. “She’s in surgery.”

Teddy pulled out her tablet to look. “I mean, we could just check.”

“Don’t bother her,” you repeated. “She’s got work to do. I’ll be okay.”

You made your way to the elevator and up to an on-call room, breathing heavily when you shut the door against the rest of the hospital. You turned off the lights, curling into a corner of the bottom bunk and pulling your knees up to your chest–or as close to your chest as they could get with your baby bump in the way.

You rocked yourself back and forth, thoughts spiraling. The movement and the dark usually calmed you down, but you were having a hard time regulating today, and nothing seemed to be working. Your breath just got faster and faster. And the fact that you couldn’t get yourself out of your spiral only made you spiral more.

You knew you were a good nurse. You knew that. You knew because you’d done it. But you hadn’t ever been a mom before. What if he was right? What if the baby made you overstimulated and you yelled or lashed out? What if the baby went to school and you went to parent nights and he was embarrassed of you, of how you couldn’t make eye contact and didn’t start conversations right and didn’t get the jokes. What if being autistic made you a bad mom?

You had tears streaming down your face by the time you heard a light knock on the door. It creaked open and Amelia’s head popped in. When she saw it was you, she quickly let herself in and locked the door.

“Oh, babe,” she said, watching your body rock back and forth in huge, aggressive sweeps. “A bad one, huh?”

“Go away, Amelia,” you hiccuped.

“Hey,” she said, jokingly. Then when she got closer and saw the tear tracks on your face, she said it again, quieter, sitting next to you on the bed. “Hey.”

When you didn’t say anything, Amelia shrugged. “Teddy said your… dad was here?”

You nodded.

She let out a deep breath, running a hand through her hair. “Honey, will you let me hold you? Please?”

You nodded again.

“Alright,” she said, waiting for your body to line up with hers as you rocked, then quickly grabbing you up in her arms, like she was catching something midair. “Gotcha.” She rocked with you.

“What did he say?” she asked, her breath warm on the top of your head.

“That I shouldn’t hold medical tools or babies because I’m a fucking re– I don’t want to say it. I hate that word.”

You felt Amelia’s arms tighten around you, and her breath came out in huffs. She was very angry. “As you should,” she told you. “It’s a nasty word. And it’s a word that doesn’t describe you at all, you know that.”

“I don’t know, Amy,” you whispered into her chest. “What if he doesn’t like me?”

“Babe, I think that ship has sailed,” Amelia said, running her fingers through your hair.

“Not my dad,” you explained. “The baby.”

Amelia was quiet for a moment, then you felt her lips press against the top of your head.

“Oh, honey,” she said, her voice soft. “Of course he’ll like you. He’ll love you. You're his mom.”

“But what if I’m bad at it? What if autism makes me bad at it?”

“Y/N,” Amelia said, gently grabbing your face and positioning it so that you had to look in her general direction, if not in her eyes. “Look how good you are with the kids in the ER. You’re gonna be an incredible mom.”

“I’m just scared,” you admitted.

“I’m a little scared, too,” Amelia told you. “But you know what? I think we’re gonna be okay. Me and you together? I mean, surely, combined, we can be at least one whole good mom, right?”

You giggled.

Amelia grinned at you. “There she is.”

You were quiet for a moment, playing with Amelia’s finger, with the edges of her scrubs.

“You know what you are?” Amelia asked after a bit, kissing your forehead. “You are smart and kind and empathetic. You’re funny and brave and you work hard. You’re my favorite person in the whole world.”

You looked away.

“Hey,” she said, pulling your face back toward her again. “I don’t like people talking about my wife like that. Even you.”

You nodded, wrapping your arms around her waist and pressing your face to her chest.

“Are you going back down there?” Amelia asked.

You shrugged.

“Want me to check if your dad’s still here?”

“Would you?”

“Oh, yeah,” she said, standing and placing one more kiss on your cheek. “In fact, I’d really like to talk to him.”

“Don’t do anything that’ll get you fired, Amy,” you called after her.

She looked back at you and winked as she walked through the door. “Can’t make any promises.”

[cranberryjuice-posts]

hi ! hope you're doing well ! I was wondering if you could write for clarisse x apollo child reader ? where like, r got into a fight (for clarisse maybe) (they ain't together yet yk, just r flirting a lil) and chiron's like "no desert and no magic healing" and r goes back to their cabin tail between their legs and then clarisse spawns, dropping a plate of like fruit or whatever next to r on the bed and has some first aid kit in her hand. I also see her like "drop ur pants" and r being "if u wanna go at it just tell me their a bed yk" stupid stuff like that. and it's just c being oddly sweet to r and like at some it rllly hurts and r's like "I'm refusing treatment >:(" and clarisse sits gently on their lap and plays with their like "please" and r's like "...okay" and when reader's all good to go they just cuddle and make out a bit 🤏🤏 (if ur comfortable)

feel free to ignore if u you don't want to/ can't/ don't feel comfortable to write dw !

Unlikely love

Pairings - Clarisse La rue x fem apollo Reader

An - this ain’t proofread so ✌️✌️

Here you were. Sitting in the big house getting a lecture for something that isn’t even your fault. The girl was running her mouth, and what you were suppose to just take it. “For punishments I think stable duty is fitting. No desert for a month and if your injuries are terrible you may visit the infirmary before returning to your cabin.”

“Great” You gritted through your teeth. Standing up you stormed out the old style house and down to the cabins. Ignoring any person that tried to stop you, pushing through the door you slumped past the medical stations and dropped onto your bed.

You weren’t an aggressive person. You hated physical alterations all together. The entire fight was Un fair but you couldn’t let her get away with what she was saying; clarisse wouldnt.

As if in queue the door opened. It was probably one of your siblings who forgot their weapon. Though in the corner of your eye you noticed the clock showed 7pm. Guess capture the flag was over with already. Go figure you were inside the big house for a while.

“I don’t have your shit so don’t bother asking me” you loudly spoke. You weren’t in the mood to deal with any of their accusations today.

“Don’t be a smart ass”

Sitting up you noticed Clarisse who was rummaging through your cabins medical stash. Walking to your bed she held a med kit and a plate of your favorite food, a glass of your drink of choice as well.

Setting the items beside you she turned on a light before looking at you with disappointment. “So why’d you fight her?”

You shrugged. “It’s not important”

“I think it’s pretty important when the least confrontational person i know gets in a fight.”

Realizing you won’t fess up clarisse sighed shaking her head. “Take off your pants”

“What?” You quickly asked. “If you wanted to get in my pants that badly you just have to ask”

Clarisse didn’t enjoy your joke. Giving you a warning glance you smiled finding her attempt to warn you cute. Sliding out of your shorts you sat on the bed, the wound you received from being thrown on the ground causing blood to run down your leg.

It didn’t take long for her to get to work, cleaning the cut and attempting to manage the cut. “Ella started running her mouth about you, calling you names and slurs.“

“And did you win?” She asked. Gripping your thigh she wrapped it in gauze before placing Medical tape on top.

“Yeah” You grinned. Clarisse chuckled a ‘good’. Leaning up she kissed you sweetly, a certain softness she hardly used. Noticing your busted lip she tried to continue to asses you.

“Clarisse stop” sighing you pushed her hand away.

“Your lip can get infected, stop being an ass”

“Im not I Just don’t want you to bother with all of it”

Staring down at clarisse you felt easily intimidated. She had a glare in her eyes that clearly communicated she wasn’t going to back down. “Fine” you grumbled.

You started dating the daughter of ares only a few months ago. Sure on the outside she seemed intimidating and well— cruel. But she wasn’t. Her hands were soft, holding your face with care while she apologized the pain You received as she managed your wounds. She never raised her voice to you, even when she was mad.

Wiping away the dried blood from your nose clarisse pulled you into a short hug. “I don’t want you fighting anymore” she instructed.

“But if someone says something about you I—“

“No you don’t.” Her voice never left an even tone. “I know how I’ve presented my reputation and I fully expect people to talk shit about me. But you can’t risk getting hurt because some smart ass wants to run their mouth”

She was right. Taking one of her hands into your own you gently kissed her knuckles. “I promise to never beat someone’s Ass for talking shit about you again” your sarcastic tone was met with a look from clarisse. Laughing you bent down to kiss her cheek.

“I put up with too much shit for you” she mumbled, reaching across you hand you, your dinner.

“Mm but you love me so it cancels out”

“Yeah it’s a real unfortunate situation.”

Hitting her arm you both laughed. As she sat on your bed, and let you lean on her as you ate, you were happy. Your girlfriend holding you while she talked about her day or the capture the flag victory while you ate dinner made you feel loved, made you feel proud to call her your partner.

[bat-stuff]

Oddly specific Headcanons I have for Jon Kent

Jon is aged up to between 15-17, roughly in this area

Being a retired farm boy Jon has this midwestern/southern accent that only really appears when he's upset

For example, when he's really emotional about something he'll start slurring his words into "yall" or some other southern slang

Personally I headcanon he would call Lois "mama" instead of "mom" no matter what age he is

I have a hunch that he doesn't like to sweat. He doesn't mind getting dirty with farm work or any other type of down-in-the-mud thing, but the moment he starts to sweat a little too much he'll speed up whatever he's doing and will just be a little disgusted with the sticky feeling

This also goes along with him being a very clean boy

He gets annoyed fairly easily (Damian's kind of rubbed off on him) by rude/mean people

He doesn't tolerate bullies even a little bit

He has a tendency to throw/slam things when he's angry (sometimes people, we've all seen the panels where he throws Damian into walls)

That being said, he has great control of his super-strength, but he relieves tension by physical force

Lois offers him up to neighborhood girls to walk them home from school or some event

It's like "Here, have my son. Let him walk you home, dear. "

That being said, Jon is very much a Mama’s boy and if he thinks Lois wouldn't like someone he's probably not going to be associated with them

Wears jeans religiously and definitely hates sweatpants

Loves sweatshirts and big coats and shirts but loathes sweatpants

He feels naked and it just makes him uncomfy

He hates tight t-shirts and tanktops, he'd rather die than wear them

Somehow still tolerates his suit tho, he says it's "who I have to be for the people"

Because of Colin, has a bad habit of cussing at minor inconveniences

"Jesus christ goddammit, why is the toaster cord melted? Kon, this is the second time this week, man. Pull yourself the fuck together"

But when there's an actual situation that is deserving of colorful language he uses the most creative replacements

"Klarion took Damian hostage? That KFC finger licker is going to get blended!" Or something like this

If Damian uses a word he doesn't understand he'll just stare at him like a deer in headlights

Jon and Dami have this like twin telepathy ability to always know what the other wants and it pisses Colin and Billy off so much

They just look at each other and are like "yeah I know what you mean, I think that's going to be the best approach to the situation"

He gives me DECA vibes honestly. Or he'd be in speech and do Entertainment or Persuasive.

Definitely is in journalism for his parents' sake, even if it makes him die a little inside everytime someone asks him if he wants to be a journalist

Probably wants to go into biology or heath sciences

[thepersonperson]

omg i'm so excited to find your blog!

its genuinely hard to find someone out here in the wasteland of jjk fandom who reads the manga and also doesn't discard the queercodedness of the characters and the interpersonal relationships between them!!

I'm curious if you have any ideas on how this all might end? Gege keeps saying the manga will end by the end of 2024 but it feels like there's so many things to be addressed.

I personally think it might end in either two options: cursed energy ceases to exist altogether (all sorcerers die and humanity is left to fend of for its own curses it creates) or everyone becomes like Maki (no/minimal cursed energy but can fight curses- too optimistic). Knowing Gege there might be a secret third, forth or fifth thing as well :D

I also think Megumi will be saved for sure and he will activate the merger, but also I'm thinking there might be a small little moment something like happened between Gojo and Geto in Shibuya otherwise Yuta laying there useless is so much wasted potential.

Do you have theories?

The burden of proof for queer readings is really high because the default reactions to them are 1) you’re reading too much into it due to personal/shipping biases and 2) unless the creator is explicit, it’s unreasonable to assume they would include queerness on purpose.

So it’s not uncommon for those who would otherwise have these readings to overcorrect and minimize the queerness to show they aren’t biased in that way. I find that to be incredibly unfair to creators that have to be subtle because of the political landscape or laws limiting queer expression.

What makes me comfortable being so overt about queerness in Jujutsu Kaisen isn’t Gege’s personal interest in yaoi and inclusion of characters indisputably outside of the gender binary. It’s the fudging dudebros.

You have to understand. I grew up on an internet where dudebros loathed any ounce of queerness. They unilaterally hated gay ships. There’s also the entire existence of the trap meme and slur used to erase the identities of characters that are trans or genderless.

But with Jujutsu Kaisen? Even notoriously homophobic Black Twitter is posting things like this.

This is unheard of. Instead of denying the queerness in Gojo and Geto’s relationship they are arguing over who tops or bottoms. (Honestly I am fascinated by how much black people, myself included, love this series. I’ve never been in a fandom where black culture is the default for memes. Calling Sukuna The Unc? Famous music artists Usher and Megan Thee Stallion like doing cosplays. I should probably do a whole post on that.)

And it keeps happening. I keep seeing dudebros have takes that put all of tumblr degenerates to shame.

They fudging reinvented mpreg with canon compliant mechanics.

It's not just limited to Satosugu. Just look at this.

And when you look at these people’s profiles, they are straight men. Most of their timelines are powerscaling, sports, busty women, or hentai.

If the dudebros are acknowledging the queer subtext as a part of canon, it’s no longer reaching to interpret the text that way as far as I’m concerned.

For your other points…

I doubt the manga will end in 2024 because of all the unexpected health related breaks Gege has taken. That statement was made before these breaks and likely under the assumption things would meet a specific schedule.

I don’t really have theories for how the series will end. Every time I try to guess the direction of the plot it’s always wrong. The only predictions I can make with some accuracy are things with respect to character relationships and motivations. I sure hope to get more character interactions and less death though! (<The delusions of a foolish creature.)

[thevelaryons]

I find it funny and too ooc when people make headcanons or fanfics where Alicent marries Laenor and they have a loving marriage and have children together.

1. Laenor would not give Alicent children, even if Otto says Alicent is the comliest girl in the court, - emphasis on court, not the entire realm, as that is actually Rhaenyra followed by Laena, who does form part of the King's Landing Court - Laenor would not sleep with her, if Laenor couldn't even do it with Rhaenyra then it is less likely with Alicent who does not even want to understand Laenor.

2. Laenor is as openly gay as he can be in Fire&Blood and HOTD, and Alicent chastises and despises him for it in both the book and the show. Alicent hails from Oldtown, the Home of the Faith, and House Hightower is its greatest ally, even more Show! Alicent's portrayal is that of a zealot! Alicent calls the Targaryen and Velaryon customs queer because they follow Valyrian rites, and I doubt Alicent would harbor any sympathetic feeling towards Laenor.

3. Let's say something happens that makes up Laenor's mind about everything and fulfills his duty, and the same timeline Alicent is not as prejudiced as she actually is. It would not be the same kind of romantic and gallant love show!Alicent mentioned she wanted in the show as Laenor would never be able to love her in the same way Alicent wishes, and considering how proud Alicent is she would slander him, just like how resentful Olenna was Daeron did not wish to marry her because he was gay and due to her pride Olenna said she was the one who broke the arrangement.

In the end, Rhaenyra needed heirs Laenor would not give her, and in the patriarchal world of AWOIAF, women are the ones who are blamed if there are no children no matter the reason; and we can find some examples in Rhea Royce and Aelinor Penrose who were judged by the Councils for not being appealing enough to their husbands and therefore the reason they did not have any children was "the fault of Rhea and Aelinor".

Do people really try to ship them together? I’ve never seen it but it’s still such an odd idea. Laenor is very obviously gay so him being shipped with a female character makes no sense. Though I have seen HOTD stans headcanoning them as gay besties which has never made sense to me either. Alicent just seems one second away from saying a homophobic slur against Laenor and even supported the man that committed a homophobic hate crime against Laenor’s lover. So any form of positive relationship between the two does seem ooc. You’re right about that. Even Alicent having a positive relationship with Corlys would make more sense. 😅

Though with Rhaenyra, I tend to disagree with the idea that she “needed heirs” is the reason she had an affair. If you go by book canon, Rhaenyra was having the affair with Harwin even before she married Laenor and clearly had no intention of ever having Laenor’s children. Meanwhile in the show, she seems to have attempted a relationship with Laenor for approximately 2 months before she began the affair with Harwin. As we see with many other couples (even Rhaenyra’s own parents), there is no full guarantee of pregnancy/childbirth happening right away. Rhaenyra had the affair simply because she wanted to. I say this because the actions she takes in having an affair do not line up with that of a person motivated by duty.

Disregarding the over the top character assassination that Alicent is getting in season 2, her book counterpart would not enjoy being married to Laenor, both for his refusal to do his duty and his open show of affection to his lovers which she would view as disrespectful to herself as his wife. Though if they were married, Alicent would not slander him openly. She's still his wife and has to play the part properly, no matter how much she may hate it. Also, Alicent comes off as the type that enjoys being doted on. She wants to be shown that she is someone's priority in a way that no other is or was. That's probably why on her deathbed, she makes no mention of her father (Otto seems emotionally distant) or her husband (Viserys kept trying to balance Alicent's wishes with Rhaenyra's wishes), but was said to frequently mention Jaehaerys and his kind words towards her (and Jaehaerys was not particularly kind to his daughters). Even though Jaehaerys' actions might stem from the regret that he feels towards his daughters, and he mistakenly refers to Alicent by his daughter's names, he's still showing Alicent the affection/understanding he failed to show his daughters. That's something Alicent carried with her to her dying days. So yeah, she would most certainly hate Laenor because he would ignore her completely (even more than he did to Rhaenyra in the early days of their marriage) and focus all his attention on his own lovers. If somehow, Laenor was willing to do his duty in his marriage, he still wouldn't sacrifice his own personal happiness for it. Laenor keeping other lovers while being married to Alicent would only lead her to resent him. They're two completely incompatible individuals no matter what the circumstances.

[obislittleone]

Tw: suicidal thoughts (don't be alarmed I'm just venting)

I am so tired. I am so worn out. It doesn't matter what I say. It doesn't matter what I do. I have been financially and physically giving to Palestinians and Israelis who have been injured and were innocent victims through this war. The organization my family and I are working with has done so much to try and save lives. I have done all I can possibly do, but it's not enough. Those of you who drop in my dms or my asks to call me a 'genocidal colonizer' are so truly lost. I hope you all get help, because the amount of hate I've seen against not only myself but against literally every Jew I know is absolutely abominable. Don't say 'from the river from the sea' unless you know what it means, and if you say it, don't say it to a jew. You may hate Israel, and you may even think that all the people there deserve to die, but have you ever taken into consideration that the innocent Jews of either Israel or the rest of the world have nothing to do with their government or the mistreatment of Palestinians? Did you ever once think before you commented on a Jews post to 'wipe Israel off the face of the earth'? Chances are you did not. Chances are also that if you did, you probably just hate jews. Don't comment any bullshit on this post, I'll just remove it. I'm not here to fight anymore, I'm just here to say a few words, and give a perspective to those who think I'm some devil worshipping satanist just because I'm jewish.

These are the asks in my inbox on the daily:

Do you have any idea how this mentally affects a person? Do you even know how horrifying it is to know that so many people want you dead? I've had run ins with depression and suicidal attempts and thoughts my entire life, but never have I been this influenced by outer forces into thinking that I should be dead. Never once has anyone encouraged me to pull a trigger or off myself. Not until this has happened.

The comments and reblogs on posts about my best friend who lived in Israel, and her mother (who is arab, btw) that was killed in the October 7th attack are beyond wild. I can't even imagine how crazy it must be to live in the middle east as a jew. This is only a fraction of the hate that I experience in my day to day life, now.

The middle fingers I get from pissed off passersby at Walmart because I wear a star of david, or the slurs I get called because I told someone I had to leave an event early for Shabbat. It's all hatred, and it all sucks.

The violence, and the aggression that innocent jews are getting from random people who hate them. The little old man who stood on a street corner and held a sign in protest of Jewish hate that was killed today by a pro-hamas protestor. Its all too overwhelming. Why? Because even if you choose not to see it, or even if you condone it and think its 'not that bad', Jewish hate is getting dangerously close to what it was during the time of the holocaust. What's worse? It's being praised. Not just accepted, but encouraged. I posted on my instagram asking for prayers over my friend who's having to hide in a bomb shelter because of the war. The amount of comments saying 'just let her die' were astounding.

I have to ask you, where is your humanity? When jews can not only feel compassion but openly support Palestinians and try and give their services to save their innocent women and children from dying in the war, where is your compassion for innocent jews? Where is your willingness to feel an ounce of sadness for the loss of a life? Are you so hateful that you will condemn a teenage girl to die because of the violence her government commits? And if it happens, will you be so heartless that you will praise the notion that she is dead?

A common phrase used when I ask pro-hamas bloggers what their stance is on the beheading of children or the raping of women is, it usually comes out as: "well what do you think declonization looked like?"

I am always shocked. Every. Single. Time... why? Because I hope with every shred of naivete i have in me that people who have lost so much will understand the pain of those who are also losing so much. When you condemn one government for killing your children, and bringing a genocide upon Palestinians, why do you not also condemn the murdering of children and innocent Jews? Is it because 'that's not your team?' Is it because you want to win so badly that you don't care what the cost is? Do you think that turning into the thing that killed your people will make you a hero? The only thing I can possibly think of that would make a person respond that way is bloodlust. When you condemn an entire nation (including the innocent people) of killing your own, then turn around and do the same thing to their innocents, do you think you've proved something?

Whenever I address these things I'm usually met with the same stuff about how I'm a Jew so I'm biased and I don't get to have an opinion... but I don't think it's fair to say that to someone who's literally living with the repercussions that your hate is causing. Don't tell me to be quiet if you're spreading nazi rhetoric about jews and telling people to kill us.

Again, don't bring any bullshit on here. It will be deleted, and you will be blocked. I've spoken my piece. If anyone is interested in learning more about the organization I work with and donating to help Palestinian and Israeli families getting caught in the crossfire, please drop me a message, I'd be glad to give you more information.

[notabumbleb33]

Transfemme Skwisgaar Thoughts

I wanted to shares my transfemme Skwisgaar thoughts!! A little NSFW warnings because this will mentions sex a bit but nothings too explicit! So i specifically sees Skwisgaar as transfemme and usings both he/him and she/her. But i thinks she deals with lots of shame and represses that parts of herself and is deeply closeted about it. To the point of denyings it all together.

Before i continues….i dont believes in sluts shaming. As long as all parties ams consenting and ams adults then go them! So when I speaks about Skwisgaar's mom, Surfetta, and Skwisgaar himself and the amounts of sex they has….its not really that them hasing lots of sex in itself is bad, but more so how it can effects others/themselves.

i thinks Surfetta was never prepared to be a mothers or maybe she nevers wanted to be ones. I means she has a lots of sex and yet Skwisgaar ams her only child (i means that we knows of and its never hinted that she has other kids) so despites all her sleepings around…..for the most part she's been protected enough. I can't imagines Skwisgaar was a planned pregnancy. I do thinks Skwisgaar was loved as much as she coulds have loved him though. But love isn't enough to raise a child well or to be a good mother. Surfetta's promiscuity had negative effects on Skwisgaar. It led him to be bullieds and I personally thinks it skewed the ways he views women. I also thinks Surfetta unintentionally neglected him in ways. I'm not sure she knews how much he was being effecteds....or maybe she didn'ts care. I dunnos. I do really thinks she loves him, but just wasn't fit to be the mothers he neededs.

I thinks Skwisgaar growings up could never fully conforms to the idea of masculinity physicallys. I can imagine him as the types who would be called queer and the f slur….maybe evens the t slur….just because he ams a "pretty boy" and grows out hims hair long. He always felts different from other boys and men. I think later in hims life he excuses it as being a god amongst men and that beings why he doesnt feels the same as others. But clearly its not just that.

If he couldn't conform physically….he conformed to masculinitys in other ways. Having loads of sex with womens is pretty macho man of him i guess lol. I think he tries to carries himself in a way that seems confidents and suave and a real charmer because he associates that with beings a man ig.

Hims relationship with womens is a whole lots of things to me. Canonically, Skwisgaar represents life/fertility in the sames way Toki represents death so ofc he has lots of sex cause he ams spreading his seed and giving life. And I thinks that his mothers promiscuity rubbed offs on him. Aaaaand obviously rock stars are usually known as sluts lol. But I thinks if we are thinksing about my HC…..I also thinks sex with womens kind of acts as like…..experiencing their femininity and womanhood in a ways he feels comfortable. He could nevers admits part of him wants to be like them. He admires their bodies sexually ofc, but I thinks he also envies what they has. If he can'ts be thems then at least he can has sex with them and just admire thems that way. And at the ends of the day they leave. He can separates himself from thems and convince himself thats nothing changed. Nothing was permanent (hopefullys no STDS!!).

I also think Skwisgaar just has this fears that ifs she was her true self….she'd be no betters than hers mother. She's already neglectful to alls those kids she bears…..she sleeps around with random womens all the time…..Skwisgaar is holding on to any difference she has with Surfetta. They also looks alike in ways. And I means this probably goes withouts saying but she worries judgment and hate as does any trans persons. I don'ts know that she could trusts her bandmates to understands it or accepts it or that Dethklok fans would gets it either. She thinks it ams easier to just push it down forever. Hopefully my ways of typings wasn't too hards to read....my bad!! ^_^; Also the scene i posted withs this is so trans coded to me like omg....

[drea-ms]

UNSPOKEN WORDS AND THEIR LETTERS (i love you.)

げとうすぐる. Communication wasn't the best thing for you, but for the ones you love and cared for? You'd write and talk about for hours, maybe years

warnings. ANGST!!! erm suicide mentions. plot twist 😨. haibara isnt dead. shitty communication skills between sugu n yn. long. not proofread. inspired by somethin stupid by frank sinatra. grammar mistakes. a lot of stuff goes down. it will probably will next chapter too..... dunno what to add here.... also if you want listen to somethin stupid by frank sinatra!!!

back. masterlist. next.

You left him a voicemail that day, Words slurred, sore throat, the worst he's ever heard from you. Geto Suguru hates how too late it was for him and you.

Maybe this was the gods way of giving him karma.

He turns in his phone, goes to his voice mailbox.

"You have one message. To listen to this message press one. To delete this message press tw—"

"Um—Hey. I-I know now's not the best time to call you, you're probably busy and still mad at me. I don't understand why though. Why are you mad at me? Why is it that you have to find a way to blame me to make yourself feel better?" you paused, swallowing the pain that lies within your throat, he hates how he knows what you're feeling right now.

You sniffed and coughed before continuing, "Um—I'm sorry, for everything really. Now that I look back at everything, it was stupid of us to argue, I guess some people realize stuff really late, I really hope you listen to this message Sugu." Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Why is he feeling tears coming from his eyes, why does that nickname harm him a lot? Why do you have this effect on him?

You laugh with tears falling from your eyes, and Suguru wishes he was there to wipe them away. "Even if you don't, even if you don't ever see this message, I'm just glad I recorded it" you smiled, has the sunset ever looked as beautiful as it did right now? Do you think Suguru is watching the same sunset as you? You continue, "Hey, You remember when Satoru, dragged us out in the rain? we got all wet and later got sick. I think we were in our second year. Shoko got mad at us after and had to take care of us, Do you—" you choke up on your words before steadily repeat yourself, "Do you think, that whenever I look tired one day, will you drag me out to jump in the rain again?" The voicemail finished. The automatic voice came up,

"To hear this message again, press three, to save it press four, to delet—" he presses four, now crying his eyes out in the middle of his room. Geto Suguru truly was an idiot. It was finally night time.

When the news of the beloved [lastname] [firstname] was pronounced dead was a shock to everyone. What truly was more shocking was the fact that she left letters to everyone, one each, two to Geto Suguru. Each letter contained the same thing, to have fun, to not blame themselves and to live their best life. Why was his so different than the others? Why did he get two instead of one?

He knows the reason why, he just want to hear it from you.

The first letter read;

My dearest, Suguru,

I'm not good with writing my own feelings down, so writing this is already hard as it is. But, when you do get this letter, it means that something happened to me, or maybe I just never gave it to you and hid it or threw it away. Only time will tell.

Anyways, back to the reason I'm writing this letter. I don't think I've had enough time to tell you about my feelings. In the short time I have met you, I think I've fallen in love with you. Not in a just a crush type of way, in a way were if one were to ask me to write something about you they would get paragraph after paragraph of how I feel about you. Did you know that I would sketch you whenever I'm bored? I would draw you and somehow put you in any of my paintings, you remind me of so many things, yet i couldn't find the perfect time to finish painting you.

I think I've always loved you, I'm not sure when those feelings started, but, I knew from the way i tried to make myself more likeable to you. I would always practice every to find some clever lines to make the meaning come true, though i would always mess it up. I wanted to know whether you liked me too. And I think on that night, the one where we snuck out and headed to the bridge was the right time, your cologne (the one that smelt like mint & citrus and your cigarette smell) filled my head, I thought the stars went red and the night turned bluer than usable. I was confident to tell you my feelings, but I thought I would spoil the moment by saying something stupid like "I love you."

maybe we our communication skills aren't the best,

maybe we'll find each other in another life.

I love you.

[nickname]

I love you.

I love you.

I love you.

she loves me.

she loved me.

Geto suguru remembers that night, the almost confession and how you looked. He thought you looked wonderful, a painting yet to be painted due to the amount time and work it would've taken. He also remembered that there was music playing, you've always like oldies, something about them maybe you like them. Maybe you're right, maybe the lack in communication skills was bad for the both of you.

So Suguru, ever so the stoic one, breaks in your room, with the extra key you gave him and sleeps in your bed for the first time in days.

"How long do you intend on hiding her, Yu?"A blonde, tall guy asked, "I, I don't know what you're taking about Kento-kun. Hiding who?"the shorter male asked, nervously looking anywhere but the blonde, Haibara Yu knew if word were to come out about you, he would be in trouble. "[Name]'s not dead is she? What—" he gets pulled into a empty classroom with the brunette, "Keep quiet, Kento. If word comes out and finds out to the higher ups that the child they been so afraid of is isn't dead, then everybody's gone." he said, whisper yelling at Kento. The blonde, surprised that his senior (the only one he respected really) was still alive, and the only person who was keeping her safe in hiding was the ever so sweet Haibara Yu. Now that Kento thinks about it, Yu is right, If word does come out and your alive and Yu has been hiding you, the higher up will have no chance but to execute the two of you.

"Who else knows of this?" is the only thing that comes out the blondes mouth, worried about who might know,

"Right now? Me and You. Just don't say anything and keeping pretending she's dead, it's better that way." the brunette says, the serious tone in his voice never fading.

The shorter haired boy walked away from the blonde, leaving him alone with his thoughts. Nanami Kento wasn't an idiot, he found the situation a bit werid, he kinda knew about you (you told him minor details.) and he knew who reckless you were, so you doing this was off. He exits the room, heading to his own.

"Do you know how many times I almost slipped the secret??? wayyy to many to count!" Yu says, pouting on his side of the phone call, it was midnight and everyone else was sleeping so he was trying to keep quiet.

"You know Yu, you really didn't have to do all of this." a female voice say, her voice deep and soft, smiling on her side of the call, sure she was in Seoul currently, but the time difference was the same, she knew how much the students needed sleep, she, herself was one too. "I feel greatful that you're helping me, Thank you."she said, looking out at the balcony, the night sky was shining brighter than before,

"It's no problem, [nickname]." he said, looking out by the window, a smile on his face, "You know, He's been acting werid since—" "I know, I think he read the letter, I don't know about the number, haven't gotten a call from him, maybe he didn't read it.""Maybe." he mumbled, a nervous smile on his face,

"Anyways, I have to go Yu. I'll talk to you when I can," you said, hanging up after saying your goodbyes.

Maybe, this was what you needed, Maybe not. Who cares. At least your dead.

VAL SPEAKS ?!!?? dawg this was supposed to be ready by last week and my tumblr was kicking me in the ASSSSS bro i couldn't move shit n all, but!!!! i finished it, and i'm almost done with the series!!!! can't wait to finish this and do midterms.... sorry it looks shit,,, was on a rush to finish this....

TAGS — @sad-darksoul

tags are open!!!