#also: I’m allowed to have complicated feelings and to voice them! I don’t have to be positive all the time

[throwaway-yandere]

FLAWLESS (Yandere!Various Genshin/Reader)

A/n: This is a complete interactive fic w/ CGs! There’s an HP system and 4 possible endings (yandere!Scaramouche, Alhaitham, Kaveh, and Kazuha). This is my final fanfic and I really put my best effort into drawing and writing this. Have fun!!! Your choices matter so read the evidences properly and try not to get a bad ending hahaha. (Pls answer this poll after and feel free to send me memes about who you got hAHHAHA)

Unreliable Synopsis: (Danganronpa!Genshin AU) If this is your last dance as an idol, then you do not want it. No. You’ll make the real criminal sing instead.

CW: yandere themes, blood, murders (well duh ansy–), and brief mentions of suicide.

Kazuha frowned. "For (L/n) (Y/n), this whole ordeal must seem like a flawless crime."

"They don't know the murder weapon, the suspects— no nothing." Kaveh sighed.

Alhaitham interjected. "Indeed, but the real questions will begin in a moment."

Words punctured the air in nameless accusations. Each time people enter this room, only distrust looms acting both as a safety blanket and suffocating plastic. You stared at the people left. One, two, three, four, five... You clenched your fist, and all those fingers pointed back at you. 

The sixth. 

There are only six survivors left.

"Say, (L/n) (Y/n)." Your Akademiyan companions stared at you as Kunikuzushi’s smirk could practically be heard in his voice. "Where were you at the time of the murder?"

You gulped.

The Teyvat Akademiya. Home only to the most renowned student of their craft. The faculty carefully picks out select groups of students to be their new freshmen- and it can only be counted by hand how many had declined such a generous offer. It was a government state university, but it was also a golden ticket to knowing people from high places.  

Each student was known for contributing something in their fields of interest. In fact, both your adoptive siblings were alumni of this prestigious school. Your brother Aether was a famous "adventurer" (as he loved to call himself instead of an artifact-obsessed archeologist) whereas your sister Lumine was a remarkable swordswoman with a straight-edged track record. Even your older friends, Dainsleif, and a certain glasses-wearing individual you had forgotten the name of were graduates and now boast incredible resumes befitting of an Akademiyan. Each alumnus you've met wasn't someone any person with a head on their shoulders would dare disrespect. 

But that was not the reason for your schoolmates’ evident intimidation.

“Allow them a moment to process,” Alhaitham scoffed. “The Body Discovery Announcement was approximately 2 hours ago. It’s challenging for individuals from the entertainment industry such as them to comprehend complicated matters in a few seconds.”

“I would’ve fainted at your rare attempt at empathy if it wasn't obviously pointed,” Kaveh scoffed before turning to you with a soft stare. “(Y/n), don’t listen to these two, I’m sure we can find out if you’re innocent or not later.”

You gave a short nod of assent.

Tragically, murders had become the norm for college students like yourself. No one has flinched at Kaveh’s grim mention of a suspect lurking by and none had the insanity to deny what had occurred.

It began when you first woke up in one of the Akademiya's classrooms. You stirred awake on a desk near Shikanoin Heizou, the "Detective Prince". He was a famous figure, so you instantly believed him when he said you were both hauled into this location against your will. You were enthused by his infectious desire to uncover whatever was behind the “kidnapping” you found yourselves in. He told you not to worry, that despite the barred windows and inaccessible exits, you'd both "probably" find a way out.  As you both wandered around the area, you found fourteen other students (some familiar faces, some not as much). For a brief moment of hope, everyone thought escape was possible. 

That was until a certain cold-eyed puppet entered the scene.

A heartless puppet you’re sure was waiting for everyone just under that elevator.

“Is… Is this everyone?” You asked like a mouse, frightened as your eyes darted for any hints of twinned cyan hair. Nothing about your recent behavior had gone unnoticed.

Senior Faruzan is missing…

Yoimiya frowned, grabbing your hand for comfort. “(Y/n)…”

Kunikuzushi scoffed. “Enough of this dumb ohhh boohoo exhibit. Let’s go.”

The most mysterious of the bunch left for the stairs immediately, punching the button on the elevator to its ground floor. Yoimiya huffed, muttering complaints about Kuni’s behavior while the three other men followed her silently. No one took the stairs two at a time and walked at a snail’s pace. A clear indication that no one wanted this to occur. 

And just like in the previous cases, Kazuha’s eyes were on you the entire time but spoke nothing of this behavior.

The elevator door opened. You looked at the camera above it. If the Shogun's words are to be trusted, then the outside world is watching your every move like reality TV.

If that's the case, might as well give them a show.

Kunikuzushi stepped aside, royally ushering everyone— and specifically YOU— in.

“Idols first.”

Everyone entered the trial room. If the mood from earlier was tense, it is worse now that you’re inside. Stepping into the cold room makes the situation all the more real.

There is an execution waiting to happen, but without a hint if it’ll be “us” or “them”. Every bright person inside the room here had previously partaken in 4 of these court sessions by force. Since no one can exit the premises nor contact the outside world, the only key out was to kill and avoid getting caught. 5 people had attempted to commit murder, and considering how you’re still breathing, none of the “blackened” had succeeded in getting their way.

How… How did it come to this? 

You enrolled in the Akademiya in hopes that you'd also find the subtle clues as to why Aether went missing, this wasn't in your plan.

Getting roped into this killing “game” was on no one’s to-do list. You received an invitation to enroll in the Akademiya because of your stark idol career, although your siblings being famous alumni may have greatly increased your chances of receiving that privilege. You would’ve thrown that paper into the fire if you knew you’d get dizzy upon arriving in the Akademiya and will wake up in such a heartbreaking dilemma. Hearing from a grapevine, you discovered that Kaveh was invited for his architectural drafts, Kazuha for his poems and a bit of swordsmanship in his repertoire, Yoimiya for her firework shows, and Kunikuzushi?… You don’t know. But you are wholly aware as to why Alhaitham is here as your senior— you were there when he opened his letter after all.

The “mascot” is yet to make her entrance. So, as “obedient” students, you’ve uncomfortably shuffled to the places you were meant to stand. Bile rose inside your throat as you looked at the last five students excluding yourself circling the room— with Faruzan’s crossed-out portrait to your right while Kamisato Ayaka’s on your left. It would appear that most of the dead students were on your side and the closest breathing person next to you was Kunikuzushi, who was two photographs away.

Alhaitham, Amber, Tighnari, Ajax, Albedo, Kamisato Ayaka, You, Faruzan, Xiao, "Kunikuzushi", Kaveh, Cyno, Yoimiya, Layla, Yunjin, Kaedehara Kazuha, and Shikanoin Heizou.

The deceased faces had been crossed out in bright violet paint, a nauseatingly unsubtle reminder that only six remained. Yet, the one that was meant to sit towering above was missing.

“… Where’s The Shogun?” Kazuha asked.

“Ah, so you do have a voice. And here I was about to call you a cricket. I thought our poet lost his words, considering how the previous trial ended,” Kunikuzushi mocked, rolling his eyes. “Just wait and see.”

You sighed, hoping it was quiet enough for Kuni not to have heard it. 

The last trial broke everyone’s spirits and sense of camaraderie the most. Before trials, the puppet gives everyone an incentive to kill. In the Ayaka-Heizou murder case, each student was given a videotape that raised more questions than answers. Yours was a clip of Lumine, your fellow theater actors, and idol mates congratulating you for your enrollment before it cuts off to a scene of your home burned to cinders. As for Ayaka, hers was a short-lived message of her older brother asking her to come visit the clan for Thoma’s upcoming birthday— before it cuts to a gruesome scene of her brother fatally wounded on their living room floor. 

“Find out what happens once you graduate!”... and then the tape ends.

Whoever was the mastermind behind this killing, you had to admit, they were an expert in psychological torture. And unfortunately for everyone, Ayaka was a smart individual— killing the most trustworthy student, Heizou, to cover her tracks better. She put up quite the fight in manipulating everyone to think that you and Kaveh were possible culprits.

You even got into an argument with the calmest person around. Kazuha was “convinced” that Ayaka was right, which led to you two entering an incredibly heated argument that left him depressed with his rejected apology. You were on "good terms" with him before, that being he would always offer to cook food and accompany you often. 

… Perhaps that was a good thing. Discreetly, you thought he strangely knew you to a degree that makes you far from comfortable. It still bugs you how he knew you all too well and yet you know nothing about him other than his aspirations: traditional Inazuman poetry writing with a bit of karuta on the side.

Maybe he used to be a big fan of yours? Even so, the foundation of your music, choreography, and persona was weaved through a tapestry of feel-good lies. And yet, he was wise enough to speak your true thoughts before you even hesitated to voice them in your cheery idol tone. 

But that’s not the issue right now. 

The issue on your plate was that you had no evidence to prove your innocence except for the list of school rules on your E-Handbook because you were convinced someone will kill you during the investigation.

You laughed to yourself bitterly. Might as well review those rules now.

You opened the E-Handbook.

As per “school rules”, there are regulations to be had in a murder game, but none stick to you as these three. Rule #10 and #7: A class trial will commence after three or more students have discovered a corpse, and a Body Discovery Announcement will play as soon as it occurs. However, a trial will be held if and only if every survivor is present; failure to do so will result in class “expulsion.” 

And the last rule that never left your mind was Rule #8: If the guilty party is exposed during the class trial, they alone will be executed.

By the end of Trial #4, she did not receive a proper execution. Ayaka was compelled to restore her honor and raised her sword to…

…

… You couldn’t hate her for it. Even though you were close friends with Heizou, you couldn’t hate any of your fellow students. They all had family, hopes, and visions for the future. Each one here was "a fledgling barely out of the nest." You couldn’t deny that you would’ve done the same.

"Since the Shogun isn't here yet, let's get a headstart," Kaveh gripped the court fence, eyeing everyone with a nervous stare and stiff posture. "What's your alibis?"

Nobody raised their voice initially. You cast a pitying glance toward Kaveh. When it comes to your closest friendships, he comes in second only to Heizou. As someone who had seen the horrors of the media which is essentially a mirror of the world's social issues, Kaveh's one of the few decent individuals left on the planet, in your opinion. In moments of quiet, you, Kaveh, and Faruzan used to chat together, with Heizou periodically interrupting to share his findings regarding everyone's entrapment.

Considering how Kaveh is your last true friend left, you volunteered yourself.

"I never left my room," you spoke audibly depressed, no longer caring that you appeared un-idol-like. "And I refused entry as well. I heard a couple of angry knocks at 9:37 p.m., but I didn't open my door for anyone."

You looked at Kazuha, hurt and accusingly.

You'd never forget how Kazuha called you a murderer. That intense argument made up 30% of Heizou's class trial. He lost his composure and called you a "dishonorable monster". The whole back-and-forth was very much unlike him. After the trial, neither of you talked– and you never left your room unless it was to get something to eat without anyone in sight.

If he was the one who killed Faruzan because he can’t get to you, then you’ll…

"9:37 eh? You got a watch now?" Kunikuzushi pointed at your wrist.

You snapped out of your aggression and nodded, which made him break out in a fit of laughter. 

"HAHAHA!!!" Kunikuzushi grinned, wide. "Learned your lesson, huh?!"

You scoffed, but your ego was humbled and your heart sank at his harsh words. 

Everyone in the room nearly lost their lives because of your time-blindness. It's precisely what made Kazuha suspicious of your motives. You were always unsure of the time, hence, you didn't have the most watertight alibi compared to Ayaka. Before you entered your room to lock yourself, Alhaitham blocked the door with his shoe and handed you his spare wristwatch. He was the last person you saw before your self-isolation.

"Good," Alhaitham said. "And you, Kunikuzushi?"

"Are we going to ignore that angry knocking thing?" Kaveh rightfully asked.

"Let's complete the first task first," Alhaitham answered. "Let's follow the circle; it's (Y/n), then Kunikuzushi, Kaveh, Yoimiya, Kazuha, then I."

"Conveniently putting yourself last," Kunikuzushi snarled. "But whatever. I was napping in my dorm. Woke up when I heard footsteps outside and decided to investigate. The discovery alarm rang off when I entered the nurse's office the second time."

Kaveh fell silent, his face pale.

"I… never went to m dorm that night"

"Oh?" You and Yoimiya curiously said in unison.

"I-I was with Alhaitham, patrolling!!!" Kaveh defended; his arms in the air. "I swear on my life, I was with him! We're probably the footsteps Kuni heard."

He spoke as if it was a good thing with his mouth, but he was whispering that it wasn’t with his eyes.

"Can't be certain," Kunikuzushi threw in a quick grumble and snapped his fingers. “But I think that's probably the case.”

"That makes sense. I mean, if Kuni was telling the truth then that just means there's more chance it's just those two hopping around. Oh, and I was actually on the second floor at the time. I was in the recreational room cause I wanted to get tokens for the cute little Shogun Stall.'' If Kuni’s side comment lasted a month, then Yoimiya's would be a year– but her good cheer is just what everyone needed to alleviate the tension.

"I wasn't in my dorm room either," Kazuha said. "I was in the cafeteria. I couldn't sleep so I decided to fry fish."

"True, I think. When I checked the cafeteria a knife was missing from the shelf."

"We’ll keep your fact-checking in mind, Miss Naganohara." 

No soul was sure if Alhaitham was being genuine about it except for you. And the answer was yes, he was being warily appreciative. Admittedly, you don’t know any of these people before this killing game started, except for one person…

Alhaitham looked away, conscious of how you looked at him.

In all fairness, Alhaitham was closer to Lumine than you and Aether, and he wasn’t your favorite neighbor either. As a kid, he was the type who would leave in the middle of hide-and-seek simply because the ordeal wasn’t “stimulating” to his developing intellect. He had a habit of causing uncomfortable situations just to “observe” your reactions with an emotionless stare. Alhaitham had once given you a sumeru rose with a startling grasshopper to see how you would behave, and the worst part is that everyone knows he did these without malice. His grandmother had to force a sorry out of him for your tears to dry. “He probably has a crush on you, you know how boys are,” was the excuse the old lady tried, but your twin siblings were quick to shut that thought down. You and he were simply oil and water, nothing more, nothing less.

But there were times you two got along. When you aired out loud sentiments regarding how stuffy his room must be, you snatched the book he was reading and dashed up the nearest tree. Despite his grumbling reservations, he was thankful that you taught him how to climb that afternoon. That was the first you saw him smile wider than usual and offered to narrate the book you stole: The Little Prince. 

However, that version of Alhaitham you’ve come to love remains awol amidst this killing game.

"As for my whereabouts: Kaveh is correct. He and I were patrolling just the first floor and exchanging conversation. Neither of us could sleep. We started at 9:15 and ended abruptly at 11:05, when we, along with Kunikuzushi, found–"

"The body." Kunikuzushi finished.

"Yes," Alhaitham said.

Kunikuzushi smirked. From your perspective, the worst part about this was not Kunikuzushi’s inappropriate smugness, but the look in his eyes that mirrored what Heizou used to have— what your good friend used to be. The light in his eyes, his more forward demeanor, the way he crossed his arms and snapped his fingers– it was as if he was copying him. 

Mocking him.

You hate Kunikuzushi. You detest just how much you don’t know why he’s in the Akademiya or anything else about him other than his first name. You loathe how he had made it his job to be the antagonist of every damn class trial. You hate how he looks at you as though you’re beneath him. You despise how much he is willing to withhold vital information till the very end.

Kunikuzushi is like a commedia dell’arte stock character. A Scaramouche. An unreliable servant. You can’t trust a man who said he was moved by your acting in all your filmography only to act like he wants nothing more than to crush your spirits once lives were at stake.

After listening to everyone’s alibis, your intuition screamed from something deep within a place you had begun to trust after experiencing these trials:

Out of six survivors, FOUR of them are hiding something.

“Is everyone present?”

Before you could speak up, a low and refined woman’s voice stole everyone’s attention. All turned to gaze at the long synthetic-haired lady with a katana by her side. She returned the stares with an unfathomable coldness as she strutted to her throne, the silk of her grand kimono touching the floor. 

There she is. The lone audience and judge. The puppet: the Almighty Raiden Shogun. Undoubtedly made of metal and not flesh. Xiao had learned that firsthand when he sacrificed his life in an honorable duel against the captor— but seeking freedom by force was of no use when she herself is capable of the murders she wished to witness.

“Very well. We shall begin.”

“W-Wait, hold up, ma'am!”

The last vaguely extroverted cheerleader raised her hand; her bravery to interrupt the Shogun was acknowledged.

“... Can I share my E-Handbook data with (Y/n)?” She asked, high-pitched.

The medical and criminological technology of this era eluded everyone. Trapped inside the Akademiya with no phones or any signal to the outside world, each student only has their E-Handbook to rely on. It contains information the owner investigated regarding murders and records testimonies made by their peers. A handbook is only “handy” for both people who were hoping to survive and those who were hoping to twist the facts. 

And that offer is exactly what you need.

“You see– they didn’t leave their room during the investigation period– probably worried that the killer might be after them next and they kinda turned into a hikikomori for the past few days. I’m kinda worried they wouldn’t be able to defend themselves on this trial so… So, uh… Pretty please?” The blonde girl smiled nervously.

The Raiden Shogun stared, calculating.

“I shall allow it.”

“Thank you so much!” Yoimiya tapped her E-Handbook as fast as she could, more eager than you were in watching the loading screen fill up.

(SYSTEM: RECEIVING NAGANOHARA YOIMIYA’S E-HANDBOOK DATA…)

(SYSTEM: TRANSFER COMPLETE.)

You smiled at Yoimiya but it came out crooked and jaded. She didn’t complain that you weren’t at your top form today, but she did send you a loud “Do your best!” in her native tongue.

The Shogun walked to the throne and took her seat.

“Now then, let the class trial begin.”

Out like a bolt of lightning, the doors behind you were completely shut with metal bars in her flick of a wrist. In her twisted form of justice, she hammered the circular surface with her gavel.

“Court is now in session.”

(SYSTEM: TAP HERE TO CONTINUE)

[randombush3]

you're not sorry to go

ona batlle x reader

summary: ona and you are best friends, but it's a bit more complicated than that

words: 4.5k

notes: this one is based on true events x

also let's ignore the result of my poll because i want the next part to have smut and it wasn't fitting with the vibe of this part

oh and the title is a quote from 'this side of paradise' by f. scott fitzgerald

January, nine years ago. 

Nothing about today has been out of the ordinary. 

The weekend is starting, winter drags on, and Ona is all set to train later on in the evening, provided you confirm whether or not you are willing to accompany her to the local pitch. 

Barcelona B usually allows for Fridays off, but Ona isn’t stupid. No one becomes the greatest footballer of all time by not playing more. School is beginning to bore Ona to death, and she knows that she wants what she always has: to go professional. 

“I have a plan,” she tells you confidently, glad you don’t mind sitting on the uneven, grassy sideline as she sets up her cones with determination. You hold the ball between your hands, though Ona is amused by how foreign it looks to you, and you seem to be holding her prized possession hostage so that she spills. “It sounds simple and obvious out loud, but it’s that I am going to play for Barça while you go to the university. You can introduce me to your smart friends so I can meet my wife, and you’ll have all the boys after you anyway so–” 

“Ona.” Her monologue has led her eyes to the ground, but your voice makes her head jerk upwards, not needing much authority to get her to look at you. “I’ve actually had a… realisation, of sorts,” you say with a bashful grin, chin jutting out the way it does when you are gearing up to tell her something that no one else will get to know. “Your cousin is really pretty.” 

“I’ll tell her you said that.” It’s a nice thing to say, and you are partly aware that Ona’s cousin knows who you are because she doesn’t shut up about you ever, but you can’t help the frustration that begins to bubble up inside of you.

“No, Ona,” you try again, “she’s really pretty. Like, I would kiss her.” 

Ona frowns, then. “Don’t be one of those.” She means the girls who experiment, who toe the line of liking girls but don’t, not really. She has been warned about them by her older teammates, the ones who go out for drinks and kiss girls in clubs. The budding footballer really admires them, because their advice is always good and she gets to explore her sexuality without feeling like a creep. No one in Vilassar de Mar cares much that Ona does like girls, but it doesn’t stop her from feeling judged all the same. 

You are one of her best friends, but Ona isn’t sure she can forgive you if you become someone like that. 

“I’m not! I wouldn’t do that.” Your offence is suspicious, and you have been so caught up in destroying her worries that the ball has been dropped and is now rolling towards Ona’s feet, where it is instinctively flicked upwards and caught. “I wouldn’t, Oni, because I know it’s unfair to you guys.” 

“But you want to kiss my cousin? That makes you interested in girls in general too, you know.” 

You bite your lip. 

“Ona, I think I’m gay.” 

The ball is dropped, along with her jaw, and you shift uncomfortably in your seated position, not enjoying how big of a deal she is making this out to be. 

People realise that they’re gay all the time! Why should it be any different for you? 

“Oh,” is all Ona can manage to breathe out, wondering what to do next. Although your friendship cracks the padlocks of most secrets, there is one that hasn’t ever been shared. One that now means substantially more than it did five minutes ago. 

“Say something, please,” you groan in mock annoyance, moving aside your textbooks so that you can grab Ona’s hand and pull her down on top of you. She is much stronger – she trains every day – but something about your skin touching hers injects a surge of patheticness into her well-earned muscles, and she falls, of course she does, because she always falls for you. 

…

A year passes. 

You kiss Ona’s cousin, as intended, and Ona knows the breakup is going to be rough but nothing prepares her for when it comes. 

She’s conflicted, and she’s older now. No longer left behind by her teammates, Ona gets to go out with them when they don’t have football; she gets to talk to the girls about their sex lives, she gets to be involved in it all. She has met Alexia Putellas and been treated like an equal, and she made out with her fourth ever girl last week, this time progressing past tongues and confidently letting her hands roam. 

Ona would say that she has learnt a lot since you dropped your nuclear missile, and she has managed to forget the initial hope she had felt. The secret had been near-faded. 

Until you are calling her, sending her a text when she doesn’t reach her phone quick enough.

‘Ona, I really need you.’ 

She hears nothing from her cousin – they were closer when they were younger – and that, she reasons, is why she is by your side in an instant, meeting you at the windy beach you go to when you are sad, hair damp from running and eyes a little wide as she tries to wake herself up. 

“She said she can’t do it anymore,” you whisper, voice cracking under the strain your sobs had put on it. “She said that she really likes me but that it’s not enough, and she doesn’t want to break my heart but she knows she has to.” 

Ona doesn’t get a chance to respond, because you have flung yourself into her chest before she can think of the right words to say. 

Your shoulders shake as you cry, devastating howling joining the whistles of the wind and the thrash of the waves. The sand is unsteady beneath your feet and you stumble, but Ona holds you firmly, as though she has only ever trained to hold you up. Though you feel her biceps, hard and significantly larger than the last time she had held you this way, you are too caught up in your first heartbreak to acknowledge the tiny, tiny spark between you. 

As you cry and cry and cry, Ona can’t help but feel a little bitter towards her cousin. Clearly, your affection wasn’t false and, though it was working towards the severance of your friendship, you actually cared quite a lot for her. 

Ona chooses to abstain from her jealousy because she is embarrassed that it is possible. 

She is there for you the next day, ensuring you have eaten and allowing you to sleep, but the sun soon sets and Ona vows one thing to herself: she will not take advantage of it. 

“I’m going home,” you mumble when you wake from your restless nap, rolling over into the empty space in your best friend’s bed. The sheets there are cold and unused. Ona must not have moved a muscle since you fell asleep. “My parents must be a little confused, and we have people coming over for dinner. Thank you for looking after me.” 

“No problem.” Ona nods and you awkwardly stand up. “I think I’m going out with the team tonight, but don’t hesitate to call me if… Well, if you feel sad again.” 

“It’s going to feel shit with or without you.” 

You are trying to distance her, to tell her that she can have fun. It might be an issue that your friendship only seems to work when the two of you discuss your recent conquests or latest flings, but it is not one that either of you wants to address for now. 

“I’m just making sure you know I’m here,” she defends indignantly, rolling her eyes at the glimpse of your happier self making its return. 

“Are you going to be drunk?” Your question is pointed and you should really cross your arms and tap your foot impatiently to match your tone. “Don’t you have training tomorrow?” 

“Maybe, and not tomorrow, no. I’ve been asked to join the first team the day after so they’ve given me an alternative rest day.” 

“Ona, if you get drunk, you won’t be there for me at all. You’ll have your tongue down some poor, poor girl’s throat and your phone will be dead.” You laugh from experience, having grown accustomed to how she behaves under the influence. “I appreciate the sentiment, but I swear that alcohol is what fuels your hormones. I’m not going to burden you with my fucking pathetic crying, and, well, you know me, I’ll just find a boy to talk to. I am going to be fine.” 

No one in the room is convinced. 

You swat the air between you two, telling her to get on with getting ready. “Now, enjoy your night, and tell me all about it tomorrow morning!” 

Ona wonders if you are over-compensating by insisting to hear about whoever she has gotten off with, but you are practically flying out the door the minute you have said goodbye to her family and she is stumbling around her room trying to find a clean bra. Life goes on. 

If time did not tick on its own, one of you would task yourselves with turning the hands of the clock manually. 

You try to recover from how much it fucking kills to have a girl break your heart by reminding yourself of your worth in the best way possible: male attention. They hound you, but you enjoy it. You crave it, most of the time, even if the feelings are never quite believably reciprocated. 

It annoys Ona to no end, the way you play with the boys chasing after you. She hates the push and pull, fed-up with the constant complaining from your end. Often, because Ona speaks her mind when she can, she tells you that it’s not fair on the ones who hand their hearts to you only to watch you pierce through them with sharp, I-was-never-a-lesbian nails. 

You don’t talk about her cousin. At least, not to Ona because you have been informed by some other friend that blood is thicker than water.

Or maybe it’s because Ona begins to avoid you, begins to spend more time with her teammates, who don’t hide their sexuality and who like the things she likes. (Once, in a hateful frenzy, Ona thinks to herself that the only thing the two of you have in common nowadays is that she likes you and you like you too.) 

“What happened to your best friend?” Laia Aleixandri asks thoughtfully once after training. Ona is helping her collect the water bottles the other girls had left lying around on the pitch. There have been more injuries than what’s comfortable within the first team, and maybe some of the reserves have forgotten that they are not yet professionals. “You’ve stopped talking about her.” 

“We’ve fallen out,” Ona answers, settling on that because she doesn’t know how else to describe the shift in your relationship. 

“Over what?” comes Laia’s obvious sequential question, more a due dalliance than genuine interest. Laia is one of those girls who plays to play and can sometimes be too busy to spend time with the team outside of training. Because of this, she is largely unaware of Ona’s growing reputation within the squad. As Ona has grown up, her confidence has increased. Girls like that, and they are in plentiful supply to her. She no longer needs to be drunk, but something almost certainly occurs if she is. 

“She dated my cousin and, I don’t know, the way she acted in the fall-out was horrible. She likes girls, I know she likes girls, but I think she has been scarred and her ego has been bruised. No boy has ever made her cry like that, and I think she’s traumatised. And it’s valid! I understand, completely and totally, but she is acting as though she never had a thing with my cousin and it’s annoying. It’s as if being gay is a joke to her.”

Laia senses that Ona’s not done, and she is correct to think so. 

The next wave is this: “Laia, I really don’t agree with it, and it is hurting me. It hurts to see my cousin be messed around by a straight girl, it hurts to see my best friend hate part of herself, and it hurts me because, well, it just– it just does! I can’t explain it.” She can; she doesn’t want to. Her secret is still heavily guarded and it is going to take more than Laia asking about you to get her to confess. “I just want peace for everyone involved,” she says after taking a deep, diplomatic breath. 

“Peace,” Laia repeats with a giggle. “Ona, the things I have heard about you are the opposite of ‘peace’. Aita’s been keeping me in the loop, and she says that–” 

“Okay, Laia, I don’t need a lecture.” 

What probably would have been very helpful for Ona to know is lost to the devastating final blow of her eye-roll as she jogs to the water cooler to return the bottles and head home. 

…

The reconciliation of a decade-old friendship is fast and natural. Things do not quite go back to normal, and the two of you are not as close as before, but your group of friends at school breathe out a collective sigh of relief when the ice thaws and Ona starts to turn up to their gatherings instead of the ones held by her beloved blaugranas. 

It’s a camping trip. 

Their first year of bach has ended, and someone – Ona doesn’t know who – has suggested a camping trip because her grandfather’s brother owns a farm and the farm has a field and the field is far-removed enough for the smell of cigarettes and red-label whiskey to dissolve before reaching the house. 

“Are we really going?” Ona asks, making you all laugh as you haul your bags and tents along the tractor path. 

“I do think we should’ve gotten in the tractor,” you agree. Ona nods at you, thanking you for your support. 

Everyone else says it’s good fitness, and then hurls insults at Ona for the remainder of the trek because she should be the last to complain if she is going to become a professional athlete. 

It’s not as far as it seems, and the tents are set up quickly, along with some chairs, a foldable table, and a hefty stash of various bottles of alcohol. 

You start smoking the minute someone flashes their lighter, and Ona uses that as a reason to stay on the other side of the small campsite for a good hour or so. 

She stays away from you no matter how much you stare, but you watch her all the same. 

The boys you talk to are not satisfying. Some may have innocent intentions but the majority don’t, and you know that you are pretty but you are not shallow like that. You don’t even meet the boys half the time unless they corner you at school and demand a slot of your in-person attention.

The boys you talk to explain football and the gym and why they have to play FIFA until the sun rises because it will definitely help Barcelona win on the weekend. They take you for an idiot, and they hardly acknowledge that your best friend (sort of) plays for their darling club so of course you know the rules and the positions. You know that Ona is a defender, and that she is good at it. You don’t want to be patronised and you don’t care about this kind of thing unless it involves Ona. 

Therein lies the issue, actually. 

You don’t care about much unless it involves Ona. Ona, who sways to the music bursting out from the speakers just as stiffly as she always has, not exactly blessed with dancing talent but not for lack of trying. Ona, who declines alcohol tonight because she is following a summer strength and conditioning programme with the hopes of playing in the first team’s preseason matches. Ona, who looks beautiful. Always. 

Smoke billows from your cigarette, right towards the point of your focus, and, suddenly, doe-like eyes are staring back at you with a small, small smirk. She waves, as if to say that she has caught you, and you lean back on the camping chair you are slouched in, pretending to laugh at whatever your friend has just said beside you.

Later, when everyone else is knocked out from the bad quality of the whiskey, snoring comfortably in the other tents, Ona and you kiss. And once you start kissing, you don’t stop. 

Ona is good at this, you assume, because she knows exactly what to do. Contrary to popular belief, you are far more active in theory than in practice, and she surprises you a little bit. Or maybe she doesn’t, because it’s Ona and Ona is good at everything. 

You strive to match her, and you do by the time you finish school. 

Sporadic, non-committal, and in complete disregard for your friendship, the arrangement of hooking up when you feel like it sees you out of Catalonia, with Ona naturally in tow. 

Madrid CFF is happy to have her, and you quite enjoy the challenge of the Spanish capital. It’s not Barcelona, it’s not ideal, but change is good and you need space to explore who you are without watchful eyes and nosy gossipers. 

Homophobia isn’t quite a thing in your family. Your parents are not radically against gay people. In fact, you’d say they are relatively supportive. However, that doesn’t stop you from feeling some discomfort. You lived through Ona’s struggle to come out, and her parents are ever more care-free than yours. 

Madrid is a brand-new place, and word about how you are doing is easily controlled. Updates come from either you or Ona, and that means there is a filter easily applied to all anecdotes. 

Your friends know about the sex, more or less. They know, they don’t approve, but they let you guys sort it out yourselves because everyone agrees that that is just how you and Ona are. They won’t understand it and they have given up on trying to.

Both of you make half-hearted efforts to separate the arrangement from your friendship. You don’t talk much afterwards until the other has left the realm of I-am-in-love-with-you. It’s nice to be in Madrid together, but you find different social circles soon enough and then you are reaching out more for sex than friendly activities and… You stop sleeping with each other upon the footballer’s request. She wants to focus on her career, on her success. She tells you over the phone because she cannot bring herself to end whatever occurred over the last two years in person, knowing that she’d take back her decision in a heartbeat. Ona really, really likes football, and she knows that she has to become obsessed with it to get to the top; more obsessed than she is now. How can she do that if you are distracting her? 

You’re disappointed, but you respect her wishes. 

Girls in Madrid stop seeming as shiny. The world is a bit duller, because although there had been no exclusivity between you and your best friend, there had always been that guarantee that the other would be ready and waiting. Your growing misery makes studying boring, and you find answers for your emotions in a science textbook, desperately running away from the obvious truth. Less sex means that you are unhappier. It’s biology. 

It’s not a crush. 

Not on Ona. 

No. 

And it’s certainly not this not-realisation that flies you to Milan the minute a modelling agency inquires about whether you have ever thought of, well, modelling. They scout you someplace random, and your mother claims that she could have helped you start your career earlier if only you’d have been interested. 

When you explain to your best friend what you are moving for, she is oddly unsurprised and uncaring. Her reaction is sickening, because you’d have rathered her get an ego boost from having slept with a model than be so fucking apathetic. 

“I’m going to Milan, Ona,” you repeat, just in case she has not heard you. “I’m moving. We did the trial shoots last week, and they loved me. They want me to update my social media and work on building up a following, and they said that I should start learning English because I might end up in New York.” 

“That’s good. I’m happy for you.” She doesn’t sound like she means it, and you grow annoyed about how she is not even trying to sound enthusiastic. 

“Can’t you be happy for me? Or is it only acceptable for you to have dreams?” 

“I am happy for you, I just said that.” 

“The words left your mouth, but they definitely did not come from your heart.” 

“You’re being dramatic.” Ona rolls her eyes and the pent-up sexual tension builds and builds until the bottle it has been shoved into can no longer withstand the pressure. You haven’t argued since you moved to Madrid, which makes no sense considering you literally broke up – even if it absolutely wasn’t dating. Neither of you has processed your broken heart, and you’re pretty sure you are still too traumatised from the first girl you fell in love with to be capable of revisiting those kinds of emotions. 

Ona hasn’t had sex in weeks, and it is affecting her performance. She can’t sleep if she has the energy she does, and she can’t get through her workouts because not sleeping makes her lose her appetite and then she does not have the energy to complete them. Her coaches are worried, but they know that she is young and though almost idiotic, they mostly assume that she is repulsed by the idea of playing for a club in Madrid. They get that a lot with the Catalans that come over from La Masia, whose dreams have been delayed because the first team had thought it necessary that they gained more experience elsewhere. 

Ona has wanted to shout and scream every minute of every day, and so have you. Therefore, everything explodes. 

…

You inhale deeply, exhaling when it feels as though some of the stress has dissipated. This casting is one of the more important ones of the week. It’s odd to be judged on your appearance, to be paid for it, but it has been almost a year since you moved to Milan and you are enjoying yourself. 

You don’t miss university, and you don’t miss your parents. Your friends visit you lots, loving the idea of your career, loving the excuse to escape their dreary weekends in where they have always been. 

Milan is great. You make friends with a few other models, though they come and go depending on work, and the more experience you get, the more your following count goes up. Brands send you things, nice things, and events start extending invites to lure you into the glamour of the industry. 

Milan is great, you tell yourself on repeat. 

Milan is great, but it would be better if Ona were here. 

Milan is great, but you regret the way you left things and want to take it all back. 

Milan is great but– 

“Your fitting is tomorrow,” says the assistant, reading off her iPad. You suppress your wandering thoughts, nodding. You need this job, you need the money to pay for a flight. The agency has given you some advancements – an impressive thing, apparently – but not enough to cover the cost of the ticket to New York for the start of Fashion Week. This show will fluff out your experience, and increase your chances of walking at one of the bigger shows. 

You’ve been told that you are quite a good model; attractive, funny, with just the right amount of personality to be both a mannequin and an interesting figure. 

The lifestyle is different but good, and you realise that you’d never wanted the mundanity of studying and then working and selling your soul to some kind of tall office building. Not everyone gets the concept of living away from home, especially not those from your tight-knit community who think the city is stretching the distance slightly (the train works, you can live with your parents and have a good job – you’ve been told that a few times), but you don’t mind. You can explain it as much as you want and they would still be confused. 

You stay in touch, but you don’t stay present. 

As your career snowballs over the next two years, you pull away from your home, always on a flight, always busy. You go to LA and Paris and London, and you rent your flat in Milan out as an Airbnb whenever you’re not there. You love the city, you start to think of it as yours, and slowly but surely, everything else fades into the background. 

Apart from Ona, of course. Your friends still visit, or you meet up with them if you ever find yourself in Barcelona, and they continue to affirm just how proud they are of you. They talk about her a lot, too; about where she’s playing now, about injuries and fame and representing Spain. They know you are too stubborn to search it up for yourself, but these are the people who have grown up with you: they know you would like to be informed. 

When you hear that Ona has moved to Manchester, you don’t quite think your actions through. 

You have had enough. You miss her terribly.

Her number has changed, but someone passes it onto you. 

You: I saw that you’re playing Arsenal next week. I’ll be in London then. Do you want to get a coffee? 

Ona takes her time replying, but that is only because she wants to delay the inevitable. 

Her eyes shine and her hair is damp, but the kick-off had been early and you don’t have anything to do today. You meet her in the carpark, picking her up in a black BMW that’s sleek and shiny and 100% not yours. Her laugh is light and free as she knocks on the driver’s window and juts her thumb out, instructing you to swap. 

“I’m not getting in a car that you’re driving,” she declares seriously, though you know she has forgiven you because she would not have agreed to meet if she hadn’t. “Come on, I checked on Maps and there’s a place not too far from here that looks nice. And it’s empty, so don’t worry about the paparazzi.” 

“The paparazzi are not after me,” you shut down quickly, not wanting her to think you are a bigger deal than what you are. Successful, yes. Famous? Not so much. “One day it’ll be you worrying about them, when you’re all grown up.” 

“I’m twenty-one!” 

It comes out so whiny and childish that you burst into a fit of giggles. Ona is proud to have made you laugh. 

You don’t kiss her, but you’d like to. Then again, maybe it’s better to just be friends. 

[sunny44]

Co-parenting (Part 5)

Pairing: Carlos Sainz x Ex!reader

Warnings: none

Summary: Co-parenting is never easy but y/n never thought it would be so hard.

Previous Chapter

The revelation hung heavy in the air, casting a new light on our already complicated dynamics. As Carlos’s words echoed in my mind, I found myself grappling with a whirlwind of emotions. Confusion, longing, and a glimmer of hope danced within me, each vying for supremacy.

But amid the turmoil, one thing remained clear: I needed time to process.

“Carlos.” I began, my voice barely above a whisper, “I don’t know what to say.”

He nodded, his expression a mix of understanding and apprehension.

“I know it’s a lot to take in, Y/n. I didn’t mean to catch you off guard.”

Silence settled between us, punctuated only by the steady rhythm of waves crashing against the shore. With each passing moment, the weight of his confession seemed to grow heavier, pressing upon me with an intensity that left me breathless.

“I need some time.” I finally managed to say, my words wavering slightly. “To think and understand things. Not to mention this situation with Max, and I don’t know what we are or aren’t.”

Carlos nodded again, his unwavering gaze as he reached out to gently squeeze my hand.

“Do you love him?” He asks.

“I don’t know, we’ve known each other for a really short time for me to love him.”

“But we were like that.”

“I know, but I knew from the first day I saw you that I loved you.” He looked at me for a few seconds and looked back at the sea. “But it doesn’t mean I can’t love him, things are different.”

“Take all the time you need, Y/n. I’ll be here whenever you’re ready.”

With a heavy heart, I get up from the sand, the cool breeze of the night enveloping me like a balm. As I made my way back to the house, I couldn’t shake the lingering sense of unease that persisted within me, nor the persistent echo of Carlos’s confession.

Entering the dimness of the interior, I found myself drawn to Maeve’s room, where she slept peacefully, her face illuminated by the soft glow of the bedside lamp. Looking at her, a wave of love and protectiveness washed over me, mingling with the uncertainty clouding my thoughts.

In the quiet of the room, I allowed myself to reflect on Carlos’s words, turning them over in my mind. The truth of his feelings was undeniable, but what did that mean for us? For our family? And what about Max, whose presence still lingered in the recesses of my mind?

With these thoughts swirling in my mind, I walked to the room I was staying in and lay down, only to be pulled from my thoughts when my phone vibrated.

Max

Max

Hey, how’s your summer vacation?

Me

Hey there

It’s been very lovely

Maeve is enjoying every minute of it

Max

That’s nice

I was about to ask if she was having fun

Me

She is

But I think she’s more excited to tell her friends about it than the vacations itself

Max

What about Carlos?

Me

What about him?

Max

Are you guys enjoying together?

Me

Please, don’t do that

Max

I’m just asking

I’ve seen the news about him and Rebecca and I presumed that they broke up because of you

Me

Yeah, it’s been a strange day

Max

You don’t have to be ashamed of it

I always knew he still loved you

Just the way he looks at you

Me

I don’t know what to say

Max

Did he tell you something?

Me

He told me that he broke up with her because of me

Max

And what did you feel when he told you that?

Me

I felt confused, scared and a lot of things

Max

Do you still love him?

Me

Maybe yes, maybe not

I don’t know how to feel

Max

I really like you and I want you to be happy

So if that means for you to be with him, I’m ok with that

And I also know how good would make Maeve feel

I grew up with a lot of traumas and I would’ve done anything to grow up close to my mom and my sister

Me

But what about us?

Max

I’m still gonna be your friend and I’m gonna be here anytime you need me

But I need you to tell me who do you choose, I don’t wanna catch any strong feelings for you if you still love him

Me

Thank you Max

I’m not gonna decide anything right now, but I promise I’ll let you know everything

I’ll just enjoy the vacation and focus on my daughter and not in my complicated love life

Max

Yeah and I’m part of the complication

Me

A good part

Max

Thank you

Good night and we can talk in person when you come back

Me

Yes, that’s better

Night Max

After the chat I’m with Max, I felt somewhat relieved, but still overwhelmed by the confusion hanging over my love life. As I lay in bed, I realized how complicated things had become and the weight of the decisions I needed to make.

The gentle breeze of the night flowed in through the partially open window, bringing with it a comforting freshness that contrasted with the turmoil in my mind. As I closed my eyes, I allowed myself to sink into a restless sleep, where dreams and worries mingled in a confusing tangle.

The next morning, I woke to the sunlight filtering through the curtains, bringing with it a new day full of possibilities and uncertainties. I decided I needed a moment to clear my mind.

So I went for a walk along the beach, seeking tranquility amidst nature. The sound of waves gently crashing against the shore was comforting, and the smell of the sea enveloped me, bringing a sense of calm and serenity.

As I walked, I let my thoughts wander freely, trying to find clarity amidst the chaos.

That’s when I came across a small seashell in the sand, its vibrant colors catching my eye. Curious, I bent down to pick it up, feeling its smooth texture in my hands, thinking Maeve would like it so I took it with me.

“Mommy.” I heard her voice and turned to see her in a bikini and Carlos in just a pair of shorts and no shirt.

“Good morning, my love.” I picked her up and he kept coming towards me.

It was like one of those movie scenes where the hot guy walks up to the main character in slow motion.

“Look what I found and picked up for you.” I put her down and handed her the shell.

“Daddy, look what mommy gave me.”

“Wow, that’s beautiful.” He smiled at her.

“I’ll see if I can find one for you too.” She stepped back a bit.

“Did I interrupt?”

“No, you’re not interrupting. I was just clearing my mind.” I replied trying to keep calm.

“Can I join you? I needed a moment to get my head straight too.” he said, sincerity in his gaze.

“Of course, feel free.” I agreed, reaching out to him.

We walked together along the beach, letting the gentle sound of the waves guide us. Maeve walked a bit ahead of us trying to find the perfect shells while we walked side by side.

For a moment, the weight of our past conversations hung in the air, but there was also a lightness, a sense of comfort in each other’s presence.

“So, how are you feeling?” Carlos asked, breaking the silence.

“Confused, I guess. With everything that happened… and the things you told me.” I admitted, feeling vulnerable before him.

He nodded understandingly, offering a friendly shoulder.

“I understand. I didn’t mean to overwhelm you with my feelings, but I needed to be honest with you.” he explained, looking me in the eyes.

“I know. And I appreciate that, even if it’s hard to understand.” I replied, returning his gaze.

“Y/n, I just want you to know that I’m here for you, no matter what happens. Whatever your decision, I’ll be by your side.” he said, sincerity in his words. “Such as a father, a friend or someone to share life with.”

Those words touched my heart in a way I didn’t expect. It was comforting to know that, despite all the complications, we still had each other.

“Thank you, Carlos. That means a lot to me.” I murmured, feeling a wave of gratitude wash over me.

We continued our walk in silence, our steps synchronized with the rhythm of the waves.

…

We returned from the trip and I was still uncertain about my love life. I really like Max, genuinely, he has been nothing but affectionate and understanding, but there’s not that spark that Carlos and I had.

Or still have.

That’s why I left Maeve with my parents and went to Carlos’s house. But I had a surprise when I knocked on his door and Rebecca opened it.

“Hi Y/n, did you come to bring Maeve?” She says smiling.

And it was like my heart broke at that moment, because just a little while ago he was saying he still loved me and that he had broken up with her but the fact that she opened the door of his house makes me think otherwise.

“In fact, I…”

“Found everything?” I heard his voice that was surprised to see me. “Y/n? What are you doing here?”

“Nothing I shouldn’t have come.”

“Wait, I was already leaving.” She says. “I just came to pick up my things and I’m leaving. Thank you for letting me come Carlos, I’m sorry they sent these things here.”

“It’s okay.” She waves to him and to me before getting into the car and driving away.“Are you okay? Is it something with Maeve?”

“No, we’re fine.” He’s relieved.

“Well then come in, no need to stay out here.”

“Sure.” Somewhat uncertain I walked in. “I wouldn’t have come if I knew she would be here.”

“It’s okay, actually she asked last minute if she could come pick up these things and since I was home I said she could. But if I knew you were coming I would have told her to come another time.”

“I understand.”

“We didn’t get back together if that’s what you’re thinking. I was serious about what I told you that day.”

“That’s what I came to talk about, actually.” He nodded. “Can you get me some water please?”

“Of course.” He leads me to the kitchen and hands me a glass of water.

“I came to talk about us.”

“Sure.” He says and sits on one of the stools in his kitchen island but I keep standing holding the glass.

“I thought a lot about what you said and I want to try again.” As soon as I said that he froze. “Carlos.”

“I’m listening.” He says.

“I thought about Maeve, about you but mainly about me and my feelings for you.” I took another sip of water. “And I never stopped loving you, we didn’t break up because there was a lack of love or respect, it was the best decision for us at that time.”

“I agree.”

“So I thought a lot about me and what would be best for our family and if you still want I…” he interrupts me and kisses me.

It was like the first time again, the warmth and butterflies in my stomach and the feeling of happiness were amazing.

“I swear I’ll do everything to prove I’m willing to make it work.” He whispered with our foreheads touching. “And I promise I’ll be a better father.”

“You’re already a good father, and Maeve would agree with me if she was here.” He laughs.

“Thank you for giving me another chance, I promise I won’t waste it.”

“I know you won’t.”

“What do you think about picking up our daughter and going out to dinner?” He says and I smile.

“I think it’s a perfect idea.” He smiles and kisses me.

Bonus scene!

Yourusername Instagram stories

“Lovely days.”

Tag list: @ietss @lightdragonrayne @xoscar03 @shobaes @evans-dejong @ggaslyp1 @bingewatche @loaves4me @alinacecee @justdreamersdream @janeholt @rafaaoli @maxverstappendefender @khaylin27 @xoscar03 @d3kstar @iloveallmyboys @bernelflo

Heyy guys, thank you so much for following the story this far. I know many of you wanted her to end up with Max, but I would have to post many more chapters to develop their relationship, and besides, it was never my intention for her to be with Max, Carlos always was the end game. I’m also so busy that I won’t have much time to do anything more than one chapter.

But that’s it, thank you all so much ❤️

[hotluncheddie]

💕🪱Wiggly Wednesday🪱💕

ty for tagging me: @runninriot @just-my-latest-hyperfixation @whimsicalwadewinstonwilson @someforeignband <3

I’ve had these worm thoughts for a while but I dunno if I'll turn it into anything. Think bc of the nuance that I would need to put in it. <|:3

But basically! I’m thinking about autistic Steve again. My lovely lovely high masking autistic Steve. Who struggles to ask for help and struggles with how much he’s allowed to share, struggles to look after himself and is still learning about his needs and his desires.

Thinking about how he’s so good at following rules, because most of the time that genuinely makes the most sense to him. It’s how he navigates the world, how he’s built his mask and scripts. How he’s kept his secrets, kept himself safe.

As long as he’s not effecting anyone else, he doesn’t need them knowing the rules he’s made, the ones he breaks and why - what that might mean. So it can be to his detriment, it can be to people please, it can be a way for him to ignore himself. But they’re also a part of him, an important part; they're all he’s ever known.

But what makes it complicated is thinking about all of that, in the context of navigating a d/s dynamic. With Eddie and him exploring that part of their sex life a little.

Because, thing is, Eddie knows how good Steve is at following rules, how willing and eager he is to be good. But Eddie’s doesn’t want to hurt him. So they would both have a lot to learn, about each other, and about communicating.

- So maybe it starts as:

‘What do you think baby? Would that be hot, you’re not allowed to cum unless it’s with my permission?’ Eddie asks, kissing over Steve’s stomach, looking up at him all sprawled out and cozy on his bed.

Steve traces the line of Eddie’s nose, lips pouting in thought. ‘Like we did the other day?’

‘Kind of, but more like, when I’m not there too. You have to wait until the next time you see me.’

Steve liked what they did the other night, Eddie going slow, teasing him a little. Telling him when to touch and when to stop and when to finish is a slow syrupy haze.

But, if Eddie’s not there. He usually likes to touch himself before bed, to help him sleep. Pretty much every night. Like, like a routine…

(And that’s the thing. Working through Steve asking for things he needs, understanding that some changes could be for his benefit. Never meant to be to his detriment. What that means for his masks and scripts and taking real care of himself. To let Eddie into the world of his rules and maybe let him make some of his own - that requires a lot of honesty, and that's scary.)

- And so maybe there's a bit of angst, some hard talks and hard truths, but then maybe it shifts into something with a bit of comfort, like:

‘How about this, we can try rules, but things that are about taking care of yourself, and we don’t have to do punishments. It’s more, like, I want you to tell me when you’re struggling Stevie, and maybe this will be something that can help.’ Eddie says, pulling Steve’s hand into his lap, connecting them.

‘You like how showering feels right? You said it makes you feel good?' Eddie waits for Steve's nod. 'Ok, so I want you to shower for me, each night, it can be quick and the same as your always do it, same with your hair.’ Eddie continues, tucking a lock behind Steve’s ear. Steve curls toward him, pulling his knees up to his chest and resting his head in Eddie’s shoulder. Not looking, but listening.

‘And it might help, you know, if you think you can’t do it but remember that Daddy’s rooting for you, yeah?’ Eddie drops his voice, speaking softly into Steve ear. ‘Daddy knows his baby likes to shower and brush his teeth before bed so that’s what I want baby to do okay?’ Eddie asks, smile blooming sweet and cocky on his face as Steve squirms, shifting himself closer, throwing a thigh over Eddie’s and seating himself in his lap. That word always makes Steve feel a little crazy. Makes him feel gooey and loved.

‘But, and this is the important part baby, if you can’t, if it’s too hard, I want you to call me okay?’ Eddie asks, linking their fingers again and looking Steve in the face, waiting for his small nod.

‘And you don’t have to use that word when you call, if you just want to call me Eddie, that’s perfect too. Or if you call and say it’s a bad night and can’t get any more words out that’s fine. I just need you to call me yeah? That’s your rule. Okay Stevie?’ Eddie finishes, shaking their joined hands and smiling when Steve gets out a little ‘okay’, looking Eddie in the eyes for a flash, smiling, leaning into Eddie’s arms, moving closer for a kiss, and another, and another.

yeah! Just ideas!! Maybe I’ll write it all down one day, but maybe not. Hehehe.

✨Tagginggggg✨ : @scoops-aboy86 @pearynice @steviewashere @devondespresso @marvel-ous-m

@wynnyfryd @wheneverfeasible @thefreakandthehair

[fairyhaos]

✰ seventeen as boyfriends: chan edition

event taglist: @rubywonu @cinnamoroxie @belladaises @wheeboo @minhui896 @slytherinshua @kokoiinuts @jun-of-love @dandycharmer @sweet-like-caramel @hannyoontify @doesthismeannothingtoyou @fashionminghao @icysungho @butiluvu

pairing: dino x gn!reader

genre: fluff, headcanon, mini scenario

word count: 540

warnings: none

notes: chan edn. for the 500 event! i can't believe the event has already ended, and thank you everyone for loving my works and allowing me to reach this milestone 💗

very sweet, very loving.

loves taking care of you, even if you’re a Strong, Independent person, because he thinks you deserve to be spoiled and pampered and paid attention to every single second

also is just… so good at shutting down your irrational insecurities

lets you rant to him about anything. sometimes he’ll just hold you afterwards and lets you cry, but when you want advice then he’ll do his best to be perfectly honest with you.

wants you to be absolutely comfortable around him, letting you know he’s always, always going to be here for you

also!! soso childish omg it’s so cute

the amount of times you’ve have engaged in pillow fights, tickle fights, snowball fights, anything-fights? innumerable. uncountable.

but what can he say? you bring out the life and love in him.

Chan can hear his voice coming from your phone speakers, and it makes him laugh.

You’re watching one of the old Going Seventeen episodes, he thinks, as he looks over at you on the couch and listens to his voice talking about nose oil and handkerchiefs. You’re grinning at your phone, eyes all soft and warm in the way they get when you’re looking at him, and it makes him smile.

“I’m right here, you know. You don’t have to watch me through your phone screen.”

You look up at him, smiling, before looking down at the screen. “Nah. This Chan does magic tricks. He’s way cooler.”

“Hey!” He doesn’t know why he feels so indignant, but he will not stand being second best to anyone. Even to himself. “I can do magic tricks too.”

“Really?”

Your bemused tone makes him straighten, and he shuffles closer to you on the sofa, determined to prove himself. “Yeah, really. Look. Can that Chan do… this?”

He puts his hand behind your ear and pretends to find something there, gasping exaggeratedly and pulling his hand back to show the finger heart. You blink, before slapping his hand away, laughing.

“Anyone could do that, babe.”

He’s smiling too, because he knows he’s being ridiculous, but it’s making you laugh and he loves that. “Okay, okay. I’ll show you a proper one this time.”

You hum sceptically. “If it’s bad then I’m going back to watching the Chan on my phone.”

“No, this one’s great.” Chan adjusts himself so he’s properly facing you, grinning. “I’m going to hold the entire world in my hands!”

He then goes through a whole routine of complicated hand movements, twisting them around and wiggling his fingers and stretching his arms. Your eyes follow all of his movements, before laughing and pushing at his chest.

“How long’s this going to take?” you ask, and Chan just beams.

“Patience, darling. It’s heavy, holding the whole world.” But then he stretches his hands and leans forward, and his nose is millimeters from yours, hands gentle as they cup your face delicately, and time seems to stop.

“Look at that,” he says, softly. “My whole world is in my hands.”

You pause, heart thumping. “Gross.”

That makes him laugh, pulling away. “Come on, it’s great.”

“Nah. It’s terrible,” you say, but you’re smiling. “Hey, where are you going? Do it again.”

And, well, who is he to refuse?

[kazumist]

EPISODE 18 ✦ THE COMPETITIVE TYPE

LOVE, MAYBE — A CHILDE SMAU

masterlist / prev ep / next ep / wc: 677.

cw: mentions of having a dysfunctional family, eldest daughter struggles, and sensitive things about having a not-so normal childhood

the night wasn’t that cold like you expected tonight.

you don’t really have a clue how you ended up in this predicament in the first place—after ajax offered to accompany you on a late night walk, you just found yourself leaving your doorstep. he didn’t live that far from you; the only distance between his home and your dormitory was probably two or three roofs or so.

but could you really call the place you reside a home?

third grade values class. you remember how your old teacher from elementary school taught you the difference between a “house” and a “home”. a house simply refers to a building that someone lives in. a home, however, is a location (or, in some rare instances, a person) that one feels like they feel a sense of belonging to—a place where they feel like they’re loved. that lesson was probably the one that stuck with you the most.

having a dysfunctional family is not easy; it never was in the first place. it’s complicated. nauseating. stressful. dejecting. hearing your parents regularly argue without even thinking if their children are still present in the room was something you didn’t know how you endured (or is it enduring? it still happens these days anyway). and it’s unfair that you had to be mature at such a young age. being the eldest daughter in such a household is no joke—you can’t make mistakes because you’re supposed to be the “role model”, you’ll be the one who’s going to take the blame if your sibling does something wrong because they’ll say that you’re not guiding them right. (but isn’t it a parent’s job to guide their children in the right path? why do you have to shoulder such a burden?)

“pres!” your trail of thought gets cut off by an all too familiar voice.

“ajax,” you said.

“is that… a textbook you’re holding?” he asks. it was the textbook for your fundamentals of abm class. you looked down at the book in your hands, and you smiled sheepishly at him. “i… kinda got anxious at the thought of not doing anything, sorry.” 

ajax simply sighs at you and shakes his head. “it’s fine, but as long as i’m here, you aren’t allowed to flip through that textbook, okay?”

“... or maybe not. you’re still the one in charge here.” he says, taking back his words.

you let out a soft laugh at him, and ajax swears he just heard heaven. “you know, i never actually heard you say my name. it’s always pres; where did you even get it? not even our own classmates or orgmates call me that despite my position.” as he was about to reply, you added something else to your words. 

“well… except maybe alhaitham. he calls me that sometimes for some reason when we aren’t even classmates.”

ajax was too quiet for your liking as he walked beside you. “uhm... hello? are you still there?” you awkwardly asked him. “alhaitham also calls you pres?” he asks back. you confusingly  looked at him before replying. “yeah, he does, but he just usually uses my name most of the time.”

“does he have no sense of originality in his bones?” ajax mumbles to himself.

“huh?”

“it’s nothing; don’t mind it. i was the first one to call you that anyway.” 

“er, not really.” 

“...”

“ajax, are you seriously pouting right now?” you deadpanned at him. ajax pouts even more at that question. “no, i’m not.” a laugh erupts from you at his expression. “yes, you are.” ajax lets out an exasperated sigh in defeat. “i was the first one who started to regularly call you pres anyway.”

“well, if it’s any… consolation, i suppose, i like it better when you say it.”

ajax lets out a cheeky smile at your words. “so now you’re smiling? i never pegged you as the competitive type, ajax.”

“well, newsflash, pres! i’m quite competitive, just not in academics.”

“oh, really now? and where are you competitive then?”

“i’m quite competitive when it comes to you, actually.”

oh.

extra notes.

this was kinda fun to write. although initially it was supposed to be a short narrations, as you can see, i got carried away (oopsie)

to avoid confusion: reader lives in a dorm but she was thinking of her family home if that makes sense??

taglist (open): @xianyoon @mitsvriii @kizakiss @kissingkzuha @aethion @phtogravi @ell1e2010 @esthelily @b4tm4nn @hcmay @ivvieene @morganadorodo @kaitfae @kentply @scaranthropy @kyon-cherri @kookiibun @kochothehoe @mekiiiii @ibyobi @iuspired @tetsuskei @kunikuzushis-darling @morgyyyyyyy @chluuvr @scaradooche @kissmiere @a1-ic3 @bubblegum-angelquartz @tiredjxnna @levlucs-kiru @angeilix @cerisescherries @saeskiss @a-talkative-corn @briluvspnk @kamisatoyato @bbysatoruuu @viviixoxosblog @bambisz @chemiru @eternal-dokja @bflyprincess @jamieexistss @monocerosei @enjisthings @jangyung @hahalame @cupid-spams @snzhrchy @ukinya @luciledreamz @bisatanica @bananasquash @almond-t0fu @thegalaxyisunfolding @jaguarthecat [1/2]

[defnotciara]

The ultimate shifting guide! (Tips, methods, etc)

Before I actually get into this i just wanted to clarify that everyone’s shifting journey is different and just because something worked for one person doesn’t mean it will work for you too! In order to shifting you kinda have to experiment a bit from what i’ve learnt and done so far.

Keywords:

DR: Desired Reality

CR: Current Reality

WR: Waiting Room

Also, before we start i’m just going to go over what shifting is, if you dont want to read this part feel free to skip this is mainly for the people who are newer to shifting and are looking for a basic rundown before getting into everything else!

⋆ ˚｡ ⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡ ⋆ ⋆ ˚｡ ⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡ ⋆ ⋆ ˚｡ ⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡ ⋆ ⋆ ˚｡ ⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡ ⋆ ⋆ ˚｡ ⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡ ⋆

1 • YOU DONT NEED TO USE METHODS OR SCRIPTS!! The methods are there to guide the process for those who The scripts allow you to imagine, organize your DR, and fuel your desire to go to your dr. Another thing is that if you forget to script something chances are is taht your subconscious already remembered it so you don’t really need to worry much about it!

2 • Symptoms are not actually you shifting! It’s actually just your body falling asleep. Although some things like feeling your surroundings change, hearing voices from ur dr, etc do actually count as shifting? (In my opinion) But since symptoms don’t really let you know what you have shifted who’s to say that you haven’t?? Gaslight yourself into believing you have shifted and during this ask like rhetorical questions like “How is shifting so easy for me?” “Why am i so good at shifting” “How am i already in my DR” Doing this will help you distract your brain from that annoying voice thats like “Thats not true, you haven’t shifted yet?”

3 • Shifting is what you believe it is. If you believe that shifting is hard, or easy, or that you can’t shift then you won’t shift 🤷‍♀️ Why do you think people who were introduced to shifting by someone who they personally know shift pretty easily? Thats because they trust in what that person is saying and trusting that shifting is easy and real and that they can shift too if they tried, they aren’t “Lucky” its just that they don’t use apps like tiktok, tumblr, etc; that over complicate shifting because shifting is as easy as setting a intent to wake up in your DR.

4 • “Can i script xyz/Or are there any limitations” You can literally do anything and when i mean anything i mean anything, if you want to be able to fly go fly ! Oh, you want to shift to a cartoon/anime go shift to it. Literally nothing is stopping you from doing whatever you want its called a desired reality for a reason. But, please take into account that even if it is a different reality that doesn’t mean you can’t being back trauma with you to your CR also take into consideration that the people in your DR are just as real and human as you are so keep that in mind when scripting!

4 • “What is a clone?” A clone is basically just you in your CR once you’ve shifted (Unless your asleep while shifting clones shouldn’t really be a problem) Your clone will act exactly like you do and if your worried about them doing something you wouldn’t do you are able to dictate their activities/what they do while you are out partying with your S/O.

5 • “What can i do to make shifting easier?” There are many different resources for you to use on your shifting journey like mind reprogramming I personally recommend listening to “Reprogramming through habits|| Video guide by shifting with reya” (I will link at the very bottom of this post if you are interested!) This video includes a 4 day (Maybe more depending on the person) Mind reprogramming method that allows you to alter your beliefs on shifting, another thing you can try is Gateway tapes, these tapes are made by the Monroe Institution/CIA these tapes use a training system that uses meditation like techniques combined with sound technology to alter the states of consciousness (If you are interested in learning more i can maybe make a post about it another day) You are required to pay for them but some people upload them to youtube, google docs etc; for the people who can’t since they are quite expensive! (I HAVE A GOOGLE DRIVE OF THE SOME OF THEM SO I CAN GIVE YOU THE LINK IF YOU WANTT), there are many more ways to make shifting easier but these are just to name a few.

6 • Meditation, Meditation is so easy and super efficient in helping you shift! If you just take 5 or more minutes out of your day to meditate for a month or two you will definitely notice the difference it makes, not only does it destress you but its helpful for when you are trying to relax during a shifting attempt or just shift while doing it.

7 • Affirmations, affirmations are so incredibly powerful with shifting and manifestation because it’s literally so easy and doesn’t even take long to do! Affirmations are basically just words that you say/think to yourself that help you shift/manifest some affirmations that I personally use during shifting attempts or just during random times of the day just to remind myself that shifting is so easy. “Why is shifting so easy for me?” “I am shifting” “Every breath i take gets me closer to shifting” “Every “failed” shifting attempt just makes me get closer to shifting” Etc, etc, etc.

And thats it for now should i make another part? I feel like this is to short but i really wanted to post it because i felt bad for promising to post it yesterday but i ended up falling asleep while typingg 😭 I hope yall can forgive me loll, but anyways lmk what you think about this and pleasee let me know if theres any misinformation in this so i can fix it!!

Thanks for reading this, i hope you all have an amazing day/nightt !!

[todorokis-girl]

Getting back with your ex? - Suna Rintarou (pt 2, Final Part)

(Part 1) After a painful breakup and years apart, Y/N and Suna Rintarou are forced to work together again in the world of professional volleyball. When an unexpected injury and a work trip to Okinawa bring them closer, unresolved feelings and old wounds resurface. Amidst professional obligations and personal turmoil, they must navigate their complicated past and uncertain future. Can they overcome their history and find their way back to each other, or will the lingering pain keep them apart forever?

masterlist

“You’re a kid, you know that?” I look up from my computer and stare at a very angry Suna standing at my door. I raise my hand signalling him to stop, as I was in the middle of a meeting. He tensed his jaw and closed the door, standing very menicengly by the door. 

I took a shaky breath turning back to my meeting “Everything we’ve discussed sounds perfect, I currently have a bit of a situation with one of my players; if we could re schedule?” The man on the other side nooded “I will tell my secretary” 

“What do you want Suna, I have work to do” I turned to him at the door, attemting to keep the intimidation at bay. With Suna that was impossible, there was nothing more intimidating than his precence when he was angry. 

“What do I want? Nothing really, just kind of noticed I’m the only one with the privilage of having the teams sports promoter as my media manager also” I stared at him as he walked closeer to my desk and placing both his palms on the surface of it “any reason for that?” 

“I asked Kuroo to take over some of the interviews if he could”

“Some? Y/N I’m the only one having meetings with him! Don’t you think that affects *my* media presence?” 

“Since when do you even care about your media presence at all Suna? A couple of weeks ago you insisted no one cared about that stuff”

“Well I care now” 

“Look, Suna, it’s nothing personal. Kuroo is just trying to help lighten my workload. I get it, okay? I get that this is difficult for you, but I have to do what’s best for the team.”

“Is that what this is about? Or is it about us?” His voice was sharp, cutting through the air like a knife.

“There is no ‘us,’ Suna,” I replied firmly, my voice steady despite the turmoil inside. “That ship sailed a long time ago.”

He scoffed, his eyes flashing with anger. “Is that what you really believe? Or are you just too scared to admit that maybe, just maybe, there’s still something between us?”

“What do you want from me Suna? I gave you my high school years, my fist college years and you had no time *me*, now, I don’t have time for *you*” I retorted, trying to keep my emotions in check. “It’s not about you. It’s about doing my job and making sure this team gets the media coverage they deserve.”

He shook his head, his jaw tensing. “Fine. If that’s how you want to play it, then we’ll keep it strictly professional.”

“Good,” I said, my voice tight with frustration. “That’s what’s best for everyone.”

He turned on his heel and stormed out of the room, leaving me standing there with a mix of relief and regret. I knew I had hurt him, but I couldn’t let my personal feelings get in the way of my responsibilities. I was already allowing it to take mor ethan it should, and having to admit that I was more hurt than I was willing to admit, I was still into him, I missed and damn it; I loved him. The acceptance of all of it drove me further down my rabbit hole than it should’ve 

I couldn’t help but replay our conversation in my mind. Suna had always been able to get under my skin, and today was no different. His ability to read me, and affect me continued as strong as ever and I hated it, I wanted to be over him and I wanted all of these emotions gone. 

The rest of the day passed in a blur of meetings and emails, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that things between Suna and me were far from resolved. I knew we would have to find a way to work together, but I wasn’t sure how long we could keep up this façade of professionalism.

As I drove home that evening, the events of the day replayed in my mind like a relentless loop. The tension with Suna had left me emotionally drained, and I couldn't shake the feeling of unease that lingered in the pit of my stomach.

The sun had already set by the time I pulled into my apartment complex. I parked the car and sat there for a moment, gathering my thoughts before stepping out into the cool evening air. I made my way up to my apartment, unlocking the door with a heavy sigh.

Inside, I dropped my bag on the floor and kicked off my shoes. The place was quiet and still, a stark contrast to the chaos of the day. I headed straight for the kitchen, where I poured myself a glass of water, trying to calm my nerves.

As I stood by the kitchen counter, staring out the window into the darkening sky, my mind raced with conflicting emotions. I couldn't deny that seeing Suna again had stirred up old feelings. The memories of our time together in high school and the pain of our breakup still haunted me.

It may sound pathetic, but I always though Suna would be the end for, we’d get married one day and be togther forever. Everyone though so, even Kita though we were perfect together; and even Kita was surprised when he saw the first couple of articles assuming that Suna had cheated on me. The dozens of calls I got from our old teammates and family was overwhelming and it was aconstant reminder and even pain to me that Suna didn’t think of me the way I thought of him. 

I wasn’t special to him, and I had given him everything I had. It had been 5 years since our breakup and here I was still drowning in it all. 

I heard my phone ring and picked it up withough checking the caller ID, when I want to speak I noticed I had been crying “Hello?”

“Y/N? You ok?” I heard Atsumu’s voice on the other side of the call and I allowed myself a subtle smile “Atsu, I’m ok, what’s up?”

“Osamu is over visiting and says he wants to see you, feel like seeing him? I said you see me every day, so you might not want to see him” 

“I always wanna see Osamu, why can’t he be the one of the team? who’s going?” There was a subtle silence before he continued 

“Just the three of us, Suna said he needed some alone time” 

“then sure, I miss Osamu” 

I arrived at the cafe where we agreed to meet, feeling a mixture of nerves and anticipation. Seeing Osamu and Atsumu always brought a sense of comfort and familiarity, especially after a tough day like today and especially when they were together. As I walked in, I spotted them sitting at a corner table, chatting and laughing. Osamu looked up and waved enthusiastically when he saw me, and I couldn’t help but smile.

I saw Atsumu every day, sure, but I hadn’t seen him standing with Osamu in forever. From seeing them everyday for 3 years, to ocassionally was not ideal. 

“Y/N!” Osamu called out, his voice warm and welcoming.

I made my way over to them, the tension from earlier starting to ease. Atsumu got up to greet me with a hug, and I squeezed him tightly.

“Hey, Atsu,” I said softly.

He pulled back and looked at me with concern. “Are you okay? You seemed a bit off on the phone.”

“I’m fine,” I replied, trying to sound convincing. “Just had a long day at work.”

Atsumu gave me a knowing look, but didn’t press further. Instead, he gestured for me to sit down. Osamu scooted over to make room for me, and I settled into the chair gratefully.

“It’s good to see you, Y/N,” Osamu said, his voice full of sincerity.

“You too, Osamu,” I replied with a smile.

We spent the next couple of hours catching up, talking about everything from work to our old volleyball days. Osamu and Atsumu had always been like family to me, and being around them felt like coming home.

After a while, Atsumu excused himself to go to the restroom, leaving me alone with Osamu. He glanced at me with a knowing look in his eyes.

“Y/N, is everything okay with you and Suna?” he asked gently.

I sighed, feeling the weight of everything that had happened that day. “It’s....”

Osamu nodded in understanding. “He’s a good guy, you know. Just a bit stubborn sometimes.”

I chuckled softly. “Tell me about it.”

“He cares about you, Y/N,” Osamu continued. “plus, not to convince you; but Suna wasn’t always happy with his decision anyway, I can’t tell you whyhe did it, but I can tell you he didn’t like it”

I shook my head, feeling conflicted. “It’s not that simple, Osamu. I had my life planned with him, my career choice included”

“Sometimes messy is worth fighting for, one of you is gonna break, and I’m afraid of what it’s gonna be” he said quietly.

Before I could respond, Atsumu returned to the table, breaking the moment. The rest of the evening passed in a blur of laughter and shared memories. As we said our goodbyes and I headed home, I couldn’t help but think about what Osamu had said.

Osamu’s words echoed in my mind as I drove home from the cafe, the streetlights blurring into streaks of light against the dark canvas of the night sky. His concern and insight had struck a nerve, stirring up a whirlwind of emotions I had been trying so hard to suppress. My thoughts were a tangled mess, but I couldn’t afford to dwell on them. I had to pack an overnight bag for tomorrow’s grueling schedule. The first half of the day would be spent at the office in the training area, and the second half would see me on a plane to Okinawa as a favor to Kuroo. He had roped me into getting the team to agree to an interview on a local radio show.

The next morning, my stride into the gym was anxious and hurried. My mind was preoccupied with thoughts of Suna and the upcoming trip. I had already spent most of the morning buried in paperwork and drafting meeting notes for Kuroo to use in my absence.

“Coach! I just wanted to let you know I’ll be out for the week.” My voice carried across the gym as I approached him.

He turned from his clipboard and looked at me, giving me a soft smile. “Where will you be going?”

I tightened my grip on my bag and sighed. “Okinawa, and I hate that I’m going to such a beautiful place for work.” He nodded in understanding.

“Well, have fun,” he said with a chuckle. I laughed too, but before I could reply, a loud sneaker squeak followed by a heavy thump echoed through the gym. When I turned around, I saw Suna on the floor, clutching his knee.

“Oh my god.” I rushed over to him. He was writhing in pain, and my heart sank. This was bad, really bad. “Where’s Iwaizumi? He’s usually around, right?”

“I think he’s having lunch.” The response came from somewhere behind me, and I glanced up, my anxiety clearly showing. “Can someone, anyone, call him?” I turned back to Suna, watching helplessly as he continued to move around.

“Stop moving.” My voice wavered as I rummaged through my bag. I had never abandoned the habit of carrying first aid supplies, bandages, and sports tape from my managing days. They always felt essential.

It was taking me too long to find what I needed, and Suna’s constant movement was making me frantic. “Suna, stop moving.”

He didn’t listen. He needed to listen, or it was going to get worse. “Any news on Iwa?”

“He hasn’t picked up.”

Frustration boiled over, and I dumped everything from my bag onto the gym floor, creating a chaotic mess. “Suna. Fucking. Stop. Moving! You’re going to make it worse!”

I took a shaky breath, trying to calm myself down. Finally, I spotted the bandages and first aid supplies. I turned back to Suna, who looked up at me with worry etched across his face. This had the potential to be a career-ending injury or just a stupid sprain. The 50/50 split wasn’t comforting at all.

“You’re so lucky I still carry these around.” I carefully moved his knee pad off and applied balm to his knee. “This might hurt. I’m just gonna wrap it for support until Iwaizumi gets here, okay?” He nodded, and I proceeded to wrap the bandage around his knee.

If this hurt too much, it would make me worry even more.

Other than a couple of hissing sounds, he seemed to be relatively comfortable, the pain subsiding slightly. I sat back, watching him sit up, his eyes locking onto mine. There was a mixture of pain, gratitude, and something else in his gaze.

“You’ll be fine. It seems like a sprain, but Iwa can confirm.” He nodded again, his eyes never leaving mine.

A heavy silence settled between us, filled with unspoken words and lingering emotions. His hand reached out, brushing lightly against mine. The simple touch sent a shiver down my spine, a reminder of the unresolved feelings that hung between us.

“Y/N...” he started, his voice soft and tinged with hope and regret.

Before he could continue, the gym door swung open, and Iwaizumi hurried in, his expression turning serious when he saw Suna on the floor.

“What happened?” Iwaizumi asked, quickly moving to Suna’s side to assess the injury.

“He fell during practice. I think it’s just a sprain, but I wrapped it for support,” I explained, stepping back to give Iwaizumi space.

Iwaizumi nodded, his hands already at work, gently examining Suna’s knee. I watched anxiously, biting my lip as I waited for his verdict. After a few moments, Iwaizumi looked up at me, a small smile of reassurance on his face.

“You did a good job, Y/N. It’s just a sprain. He’ll need to rest and ice it, but he should be fine.”

Relief washed over me, and I let out a breath I didn’t realize I had been holding. Suna’s eyes met mine again, and I could see the gratitude in his gaze. As Iwaizumi helped him up and guided him to the bench, I couldn’t shake the feeling that this was a turning point for us.

“Thank you,” Suna said quietly, his voice sincere.

I nodded, feeling a warmth spread through me despite the tension of the situation. “Just take care of yourself, okay?”

“I will,” he promised, and for the first time in a long while, I felt a glimmer of hope that maybe, just maybe, we could find our way back to each other.

As I turned to leave, Suna’s voice stopped me. “Y/N, wait.”

I looked back, my heart pounding in my chest. “Yeah?”

“When will you be back?”

I hesitated, but then I replied. “Saturday. Why?”

“I just….be safe” I nodded and smiled “I will”

Suna’s eyes softened, and he smiled faintly. “and, Thank you.

His words lingered in the air as I made my way out of the gym, the emotions of the day weighing heavily on me. The thought of Suna’s vulnerability and the unspoken feelings between us stayed with me, making it hard to focus on the tasks at hand.

The flight to Okinawa was uneventful, but my mind was anything but calm. The beauty of the island, with its clear blue skies and turquoise waters, was lost on me as I navigated the business obligations that had brought me here. Interviews, meetings, and endless conversations filled my days, but my thoughts constantly drifted back to Suna.

Saturday couldn’t come soon enough. As the plane touched down and I disembarked, I felt a mix of exhaustion and anticipation. I was eager to see Suna again, to see if the hope I had felt was real or just a fleeting moment.

Back in Tokyo, the evening was cool and crisp. I made my way to the gym, my heart pounding with a mixture of anxiety and excitement. As I entered, I saw Suna sitting on the bench, his knee still wrapped but looking much better.

He looked up as I approached, a small smile forming on his lips. “Hey.”

“Hey,” I replied, feeling a rush of emotions.

“How was Okinawa?” he asked, his tone casual but his eyes intense.

“Busy,” I admitted. “But I couldn’t stop thinking about you.”

He stood up, his movements careful. “I’ve been thinking about you too. A lot.”

We stood there for a moment, the weight of our past and the uncertainty of our future hanging between us. Finally, Suna took a step closer, his eyes searching mine.

The gym was bustling with activity as the team prepared for their Saturday practice, a regular session that the coach believed was crucial for team building. I watched as Suna’s expression shifted from hopeful to resigned. The energy of the gym, usually so comforting and familiar, felt stifling now.

As I gathered my things, I couldn’t help but glance back at Suna. His eyes followed me, a mixture of longing and regret evident in his gaze. The silent tension between us was palpable, a reminder of all the unresolved emotions and unsaid words that hung heavy in the air.

Arriving home, I dropped my keys on the kitchen counter and stared out the window, my mind racing with thoughts of Suna and our complicated history. I walked over to the living room, sinking into the comfort of the couch. The events of the day replayed in my mind like a movie on repeat. Suna’s confession, his tender touch, and the raw vulnerability I had felt in that moment.

But along with those memories came the weight of reality. Our relationship had always been a rollercoaster ride of highs and lows. The love we shared was undeniable, but so were the challenges that had torn us apart.

I pulled out my phone and stared at Suna’s contact, my finger hovering over the call button. Should I reach out to him? Should I take that leap of faith and give us another chance?

A soft knock on the door made me jump. I opened my eyes to see Suna standing there, his hands shoved into the pockets of his jeans. He looked uncertain, vulnerable, a side of him I hadn’t seen in a long time.

“Can we talk?” he asked softly.

I hesitated, my heart racing. But then I nodded, stepping aside to let him in. Suna walked in, his gaze searching mine as if seeking reassurance.

“Look, Y/N,” he began, his voice sincere. “I don’t want to push you into anything you’re not ready for. But I needed you to know that...”

He paused, taking a deep breath.

“I still love you,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “I’ve never stopped.”

I closed my eyes, feeling the tears well up again. His words echoed the longing in my own heart, the ache of our shared history.

“I love you too, Suna,” I confessed, my voice breaking. “But it’s not that simple.”

He nodded, his expression pained yet understanding.

“I know,” he said softly. “I messed up. I made mistakes. But I want to make things right, Y/N. I want to try again, if you’ll let me.”

I looked into his eyes, seeing the vulnerability and hope reflected in them. Despite everything, despite the pain and the uncertainty, I knew that Suna was the one I wanted to fight for. Our love had never been easy, but it had always been worth it.

“I want to try too,” I whispered, tears streaming down my cheeks. “But we have to take it slow, Suna. We have to be honest with each other.”

He nodded, stepping closer and pulling me into his arms. I melted against him, feeling the warmth and familiarity of his embrace.

“I’m willing to do whatever it takes,” he promised, his voice filled with determination.

And in that moment, as we held each other in the quiet of my living room, I knew that no matter what lay ahead, we were finally on the path to healing, together.

“Then, I need you to tell me,” I said softly, pulling back slightly to look into his eyes. He closed his eyes, already anticipating the question he knew I’d ask. “Why did you do this? Osamu and Atsumu are sure you didn’t want to, so why?”

Suna took a deep breath, his eyes opening to meet mine. They were filled with a mixture of regret and pain. He ran a hand through his hair, exhaling slowly.

“It was a mistake,” he began, his voice heavy with remorse. “Back then, I was so focused on my career, on making a name for myself. I thought I needed to sacrifice everything else, including us, to succeed.”

I listened quietly, my heart aching as he continued.

“I thought I was doing the right thing,” he admitted, his voice trembling slightly. “I thought that by letting you go, I was protecting you from the chaos and uncertainty of my life. But I was wrong. I was so wrong.”

Tears welled up in his eyes, and he quickly wiped them away, his expression one of deep sorrow.

“I didn’t realize until it was too late how much I was hurting you, and myself. I missed you every single day, but I was too stubborn, too proud to admit it. I didn’t want to face the reality that I had made the worst decision of my life.”

I reached out, taking his hand in mine. His grip tightened, as if he was afraid I would let go.

“Suna, I...” I struggled to find the right words. “I was devastated. I felt like I had lost everything. But hearing you say this, knowing that you regret it... it means a lot.”

He nodded, his eyes filled with determination. “I know I can’t change the past, but I want to make things right. I want to be with you, Y/N. I want to build a future together, if you’ll have me.”

I looked into his eyes, seeing the sincerity and hope there. Despite everything, despite the pain and the years apart, I still loved him. And I believed in second chances.

“We’ll take it one step at a time,” I said softly. “We’ll figure this out together.”

Suna pulled me into his arms again, holding me tightly as if afraid to let go. I could feel the steady beat of his heart against mine, a comforting reminder that we were both alive, both ready to face whatever came next.

For the first time in years, I felt a glimmer of hope. We had a long road ahead of us, but as long as we faced it together, I knew we could overcome anything.

In the quiet of my living room, wrapped in Suna’s embrace, I allowed myself to believe in the possibility of a new beginning.

[teyums]

“What’s a Period?” ✽ Lo’ak Sully

wc: 965

pairing: lo’ak x human! fem reader

warnings: none! just health class with lo’ak lol

a/n: this is based off these two requests! Ik i’ve been inactive for a bit but there’s more to come so I hope y’all enjoy :)

You woke up clutching your stomach, excruciating cramps surging through the muscles of your abdomen and effectively rousing you from your slumber. You knew this feeling all too well. Unfamiliar to na’vi but familiar to you, a human; you started your menstrual cycle.

You winced as you sat up from your spot on the bed. You gently lifted Lo’ak’s arm from around you and tried your best to quiet a pained groan, a harsh sigh of annoyance following.

Your sounds of discomfort rustled him from his deep sleep, and he stirred a bit before slowly sitting up while rubbing the fatigue from his tired eyes. “What’s wrong, mamas?” He spoke, his voice gruff and movements groggy when a hand came out to rub your stiff back.

You turned to see Lo’ak with pinched brows and you shied away from his touch slightly, much to his dismay, and shook your head to yourself while you moved to get off the bed. “S’nothing, Lo’ak. Go back to sleep, I’m fine.” You assured him.

His eyes dropped down to where you had previously been sitting, an eyebrow quirking inquisitively. “Is this…. blood?” He queried, referring to the crimson stain on the sheets. He gently grazed two of his fingers over the spot, turning his hand back towards himself to see the blood was fresh, and his heart sunk.

“L-Lo’ak, don’t-!” You felt your face heat up instantly, hands coming up to hold your burning cheeks while he examined the stain. “It’s from me…” You sighed, a hand holding your forehead with a hope to quell your self-consciousness.

His eyes snapped up to look at you, genuine worry washing over his features. “What do you mean? You’re bleeding? Where? Are you hurt?” He questioned frantically, two large hands shooting forward to grip your hips and hold you in place while he surveyed your body for any sign of injuries.

You wanted to shrink into a hole and disappear. You hadn’t bled through since middle school, you’d always been extra prepared for the sole purpose of avoiding humiliation. You hadn’t experienced a period for months since arriving on this planet, but the atmosphere on Pandora differed so much from Earth’s that it must have triggered an irregularity in your body’s natural functions.

You shook your head at him, not being able to meet his eyes. “I got my period during the night, I usually get them monthly, but I didn’t expect it to come back… so I wasn’t prepared.” You bit the inside of your cheek, watching his head tilt in confusion.

“Your period? What’s a period?”

You paused. “Did Jake not tell you?”

“No,” His posture straightened, arms crossing over his chest defensively. “What does my dad know about you that I don’t?” He frowned, almost like he were offended.

A slight smile crept onto your face at his almost jealous demeanor. “Lo’ak,” You tugged at his arms, smiling bigger when he unfolded them and allowed you to take hold of his hands. “You know I’m human, like your father was…”

“Yes, I know.” He responded curtly, as if rushing you to continue before he could become more irritated.

You nodded. “Well, human girls have something called a period or a menstrual cycle. It’s kind of complicated, but basically we bleed from our… you know.”

You watched his eyes widen, then drop down your form as he started piecing things together. “Wait, so you bleed from, that? Like, from the thing that I like to….” He swallowed, eyes rapidly blinking while he tried not to freak out.

“Yes, yes. Please don’t say it.” You interrupted, cutting him off before he could imagine any further. “But I don’t just bleed, I also get terrible cramps and headaches, sometimes mood swings. And my back kills me. Applying heat really helps, but you guys don’t have heating pads on Pandora, so.” You huffed out a laugh.

“Heat?” A lightbulb went off in his mind, and you could’ve sworn you saw it levitating over his head. “I can help with that, we have hot springs all over this place!” He stood to his feet, towering over you now. “I can take you to one, if you’d like?”

You looked up at him and blushed at the height difference that you still hadn’t gotten used to, shrugging your shoulders sheepishly and averting your gaze. “You really don’t have to, Lo’ak… I don’t want to be a burden.” You muttered.

“Oh please,” He scoffed at you, quickly turning and stripping the sheets off the bed, then balling them up and throwing them to the corner of the room so they could be washed.

He was already grabbing his bow before you could protest any further, facing you once more and his braids swishing with his movement. “I will always take care of you. You are not a burden, mamas. You never will be.” He spoke softly, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear and sensing your apprehension. “There’s no need to be embarrassed about it. I want to help you feel better, really.”

You thought on it for a moment before hesitantly agreeing. The cramps in your abdomen were only getting worse and you could use the relief. “Okay, fine.”

He grinned at your answer, instantly swooping down to scoop you off your feet and up into his arms. You squealed at the swift motion, your arms quickly circling around his neck. “Lo’ak, put me down! I can walk on my own.”

“Nonsense,” He pushed through the flap of your shared tent, not at all interested in listening to your reasoning. “You’re not doing anything today other than relaxing, not if I have anything to say about it.” He chuckled, placing a kiss to the top of your head and starting off into the forest.

Likes + Reblogs + Comments are much appreciated! 💗

[eviesaurusrex]

ᴛʜᴇ ᴘᴇʀꜰᴇᴄᴛ ɴɪɢʜᴛ | ᴄ. ᴇᴠᴀɴꜱ

GIFs by the amazing @henricavyll

Dad!Chris Evans x Wife!Reader (DiCaprio!Reader)

summary: It’s the Lightyear world premiere in L.A.—and everyone is asking where Chris’ wife, YN, and their kids are.

word count: 3.5k

warnings: fluff, more fluff, mentions of complicated pregnancy, really short mention of traumatic child labor and death of both mother and child, double the fluff, not really proofread because I’m tired

author’s note: I don’t know where this came from. But I also don’t care because it’s my first Chris piece, and I’m excited. And for age’s sake: Leo is 15-20 years older than he actually is because I kinda forgot that he is only 47 after I already finished this one xD

“I’m standing here with actor Chris Evans on this beautiful sunny afternoon. How are you, Chris?” One of the many interviewer asked, and the man grinned shortly to the camera before focusing back on the woman in front of him, holding a microphone right under his nose. She was nervous; he could see that, so he didn’t say anything about it. He understood her on a different level. “Hi, Susan. We really had luck with the weather, didn’t we? And I’m great, thanks. I mean, how could I not be great?” He grinned again and pushed his sunglasses up. “I probably would feel the same when I voiced my longtime favorite character! How did your kids react? You have two, right?”

At the mention of his two sunbeams back home, the father couldn’t help but smile softly. It may have taken a long while to find the perfect woman and the love of his life and an even longer while to create these two joys in his life, but Chris thanked the universe every single day for the honor of having them in his life.

“I have two wonderful and beautiful children, yes, and number three is on their way. My eldest, Ophelia, was over the moon when I left my study a few months back after I had just wrapped up the call with my manager and Disney and were allowed to talk about it. She, of course, eavesdropped because she just loves to do it when it contains me and my study. And she had picked up on some parts of the conversation and had bounced up and down and asked me nonstop if it’s true and I’m playing Buzz. It’s her favorite Toy Story character, so I had a bit of pressure while doing the actual work.” He showed his thumb and pointer moving very closely together and chuckled. “Who am I kiddin’, I had a lot of pressure,” he laughed, and Susan laughed with him. “I only can imagine how it is with such a harsh critique living under the same roof. How did your second child react?” Chris grinned again, and it was visible for everyone to see in this world how much he adored his two children. “My son Aiden was much more chilled. Well, it’s not science because he only objects if someone dares to steal his share of ice cream—or cuddle time with his mom. He had only shrugged after Ophelia had screamed through the living room that I was voicing Buzz, but he was kinda excited after we watched it for the first time and heard my voice. Y’know, to see your own kids become happy and have those big round eyes just like you at your first Disney movie and the birth of your first movie heroes? It’s something entirely else. And to witness this moment while they watched Lightyear? Mindblowing, really.”

His chest was swelled with pride, and everyone around gushed over the epitome of proud fatherhood Chris was in this very moment. And he didn’t mind because he could boast all day long about his kids—and wife. Speaking of which…

“This is probably the sweetest story I’ve ever heard. Thank you for sharing this very intimate insight of your family life with us, Chris,” the interviewer thanked him with a genuine smile, but Chris only waved it off. They might keep their kids out of the spotlight to grant them the childhood he had been gifted by his parents, but they never stopped talking about them when people asked. “Is it okay if I ask about your wife and why she isn’t here today? She usually is at all your premieres and vice versa. I barely can remember a time without her at your side or you at hers, to be quite honest. You two really found one another.” Chris nodded in absolute agreement. “We really did. It was unexpected and kinda bumpy—quite literally.”

The husband remembered their first encounter at one of the Oscar Afterparties vividly where the stunning woman had bumped into him—and had driven the heel of her painful stilettos into his shoe. Ever since the actor saw these shoes with other eyes. He returned back to reality. “But we pushed through the obstacles, and I am the lucky bastard she had agreed to marry. Lucky me.” He chuckled under his breath and shook his head. YN would hit him as soon as she saw this interview, and maybe she sat in front of the tv at this very moment and watched him gushing over their family. “But back to your question, Susan. YN is currently at home, maybe watching this interview and throwing a pillow to the tv because she is heavily pregnant and can’t get up without help anymore.” Chris grinned straight into the camera. “I’m sorry, love!” He almost shouted after the exposure of her struggling state he almost loved the most about her being pregnant.

He just was a sucker for his wife when she called for him to help her with the easiest of tasks and boss him around as if there was no tomorrow. But he was a happily obliging husband because, after all, her state had been his fault. Something he would always be proud of.

“She wanted to come with me, but the doctor had put her on bed rest for the time being after we experienced a tiny scare of our little one two weeks back.” The same icy cold feeling ran his back up and down, just the same he had felt during the few hours of panic and anxiety in the depths of night when their unborn child tried to greet them earlier than agreed. And gladly, as stubborn his wife could be, she kept her word and watched out for herself and the little bub instead of ignoring every warning and trying to go head first through every wall possible. His father-in-law was a great help on days like this when Chris couldn’t be at home to watch out for his love and his tiny love. “I am sorry to hear that. But now, everything is back on track and in order?” The actor nodded, relieved. “So far, yes. But it still means I have to attend these without her calming presence, and let me tell’ya: it’s freaking scary.” And then, he laughed and shook his head. “I’ve never expected to be so lost without her. I almost forgot to lace my shoes because my head was all over the place,” he let out and still couldn’t believe how his life had changed within only a few years.

“Don’t worry, Chris, I feel the same. My life without my girlfriend? God, send some help,” Susan laughed with him, and Chris smiled thankfully. “So, I suppose you will head straight back home after the screening?” And the Evans was more than relieved to nod this question yes. “Totally. I love everyone involved in this movie, and I’m beyond grateful. However, my priorities are heading home, being greeted by Dodge and maybe the kids if they’re still awake, thanking Leo for keeping an eye on these two—more like three, Dodger included—troublemakers and his daughter, and then finally greeting my wife. We probably will watch a Disney movie, eventually waking the kids with the sounds, and everything will morph into a huge Disney sleepover on the couch. And yes, that’s the description of my personal favorite night.” He had always been a more at-home type of guy after passing a certain age, but now, it was all he could ever want.

“That sounds like a night in just like mine, minus the children. Thank you again for talking to me, Chris, and congratulations on the brilliant movie and your family. I’m definitely not the only one when I’m saying that you deserve every single bit of it,” Susan closed the interview, and Chris waved a last time to the people standing behind her before heading back to the red carpet to get the final shots for the press.

;

Chris was glad that they had settled back to L.A. for the making of Lightyear to avoid stressful last-minute flights from one side of the country to the other. He could be there if something happened at home, almost within a matter of thirty minutes tops, and Leo wasn’t busy as he usually was to help him with keeping an eye on everyone. And now, he was glad because it meant he could hold his wife in his arms after only a twenty-minute drive instead of an almost six-hour flight. He could even grab her favorite ice cream flavor on the way home.

Leaving the car and wishing Daniel, his driver for today, a good night, Chris slowly followed the pathway, flanked with blooming bushes and flowers exploding in every color there was, up to the four steps leading to the porch and door. Their L.A. house reminded him of home back in Boston, and he couldn’t wait for them to move back and relish in the family time they would have after baby number three was born.

Smiling at the sounds of an excited Dodger waiting for him, Chris took two steps at a time and opened the door to get in. His fur companion wiggled with his tail at the sight of his human, and the Evans crouched down to greet him with a loving scratch behind his ears. “How is my best boy?” He asked and chuckled as Dodger impatiently nudged his hand to follow him. He wanted to, but tiny, excited voices let him stop in his tracks.

“Daddy! Daddy!”

“Daddy’s home!”

Two tiny humans rounded the corner into the hallway at full speed, and the father could only let the bag with ice cream and snacks drop to the floor before he was attacked by the hugs of his five-year-old girl and an almost four-year-old boy. “What a greeting!” He laughed as he lifted both children in his arms and tickled squealing noises out of them. Ophelia grinned brightly—the grin almost too big for her pretty little face— while Aiden preferred to snuggle onto his father’s shoulder. It was late for him, and Chris was actually surprised at how long he had pushed through.

“Did you bring the biiiig Buzz? I saw him on TV! I want him! He is so cool and sooo big! And Sox??? They had a statue of him too! Did you see it, Daddy?? Can we go there tomorrow?? Please??”

Chris chuckled at the tsunami of questions he already had anticipated, but another voice slid into the conversation. “Lia, darling. Give your dad some time to arrive and at least to take off his shoes,” Leo quipped with a small grin on his face and stepped to his son-in-law to take the kids off him. “But, Poooops!” Ophelia pouted heavily, and even Aiden seemed not happy about the interruption of stories. “No but’s, darling. Come on; you said you wanted to bake a cake for your dad and the work is only halfway done. Plus, your mom said something about craving a banana smoothie. Who wants a banana smoothie?”

And suddenly, the world was back in order, and both kids screamed “Yes!” throughout the entire house.

Chris followed them after taking off his shoes and retrieving the paper bag again. He took one spoon from the kitchen on his way to the living room and already saw the head of his wife peeking up between thick couch pillows. The husband left the bag with snacks at the opening of the kitchen, only taking the ice cream bucket with him. He crouched behind the back of the couch and let his arm appear from behind in front of the woman he loved—ice cream presented like an offering to the gods.

“M’lady, I brought gifts,” Chris laughed softly at her gasp and grabby hands, kissing her cheek tenderly. “Fine sir, do you possess the ability of mind reading? We should consider burning you at the stake.” YN had turned her head and grinned up to him as he rounded the couch and plopped down next to her. She was dressed in one of his Red Sox shirts—usually, it would be way too big for her, but now with the ever-growing baby bump, it fitted perfectly—, yoga pants and fluffy socks under which she probably hid the pestering compression socks the doctor had prescribed for the next weeks. “Please, I beg you, don’t burn me! Who would tend to your needs, m’lady?” YN’s eyes wandered to Dodger, who had taken over his place at her side once more. Ever the protective fur baby, Chris thought with a smile. “I could train Dodge to go to the store. Remember this video with the dog and his little basket on the market? Where he bought fruits for his owner? It could be Dodger after a bit of persuasion.” The woman grinned brightly, the same grin Ophelia owned, and with one hand on his neck, she pulled his face closer to hers. Chris obliged and leaned down to press their lips together in a loving kiss, which still let butterflies erupt in his stomach.

“Hey,” Chris whispered, lips still touching, and YN sighed. “Hey,” she returned just as quiet as he and nudged his nose with hers. “Everything alright?” She could see the worry in his blue eyes, darkening them a bit, so she took his hand and put it on the right side of her still-growing bump, even though she was almost through with it. But each pregnancy held its own surprises, as she had experienced. “Of course,” she smiled at his joyful, boyish grin as he felt one of the many kicks of their third bundle of joy. Number three may be an accident because, after Aiden’s birth, they had agreed on waiting a couple more years to grant them the attention they both deserved, but everything would be okay. And she couldn’t imagine a life without bub three.

Chris bent his head down to the spot where he suspected his baby’s head and pressed a kiss on top of his… YN’s shirt. “Hey, love. Here is your daddy speaking. I hope you didn’t give your mom a hard time today, and I damn sure hope you will continue to be a good girl in a few hours when she tries to sleep—unlike the last three nights. ‘Thought we had a deal.” YN chuckled while her fingers carded through Chris’ fluffy hair but groaned at a particularly hard kick. “Love,” they both warned in unison before YN settled back into the cushions and continued to caress her husband’s hair and scalp. “A girl, huh?” She softly smiled at the man who had swept her off her feet so suddenly, she still wondered how she didn’t brake her neck in the wake of his adorable flirting endeavors she oh so happily had returned. Chris leaned his cheek against her bump, wanting to be as close as possible to his baby and wife, and her knuckles tenderly stroked over his bearded cheek. He had a boyish smile tucking at his lips. “S’just a feelin’,” he mumbled, Boston accent very prominent—just as always when he felt contentment and happiness, mostly when he was at home with his family. YN grinned down at him while slowly rubbing the spot where the tiny bub had kicked again. “You can admit that you want another girl. Nobody would be surprised, y’know? The whole internet sees you as a girl-dad,” YN winked, and Chris’ rumbling laugh almost shook her body as well. “Do they, yeah?” She nodded and tipped the tip of his nose with the pad of her finger. “Yes, they do, and we both know that you know this as well. Don’t try to fool lil’ ol’ me, Mr. Evans. I’m aware of your stalking tendencies when it comes to your fans and this family.”

Chris grinned sheepishly before sitting up and pressing another kiss to her lips. “Wouldn’t dream of it, Mrs. Evans,” he whispered before commotion erupted in the kitchen and tiny feet came rushing over. “Mommy! Mommy, look! I made banana shake!” Aiden proudly presented the filled glass, and both parents were sure there would be a dripping trail of shake from the kitchen to the couch. But her father already followed with a kitchen towel in hand. “We made the banana shake,” Ophelia stressed and gave her mom the reusable straw she had carried while Aiden gave her the glass. The mother almost teared up and blinked rapidly to hide the tears. “You two are too good to me,” she sniffled before taking the first sip and hummed in utter approval. “Perfection. Maybe you should think about opening a shake shop.” Ophelia giggled while Aiden squeezed himself between Dodger and his mother. With another human, Dodger wouldn’t have any of that, but with his family, he only made space and put his head in his tiny human’s lap to get the cuddles he loved.

Meanwhile, Ophelia climbed into the spot between her mom and dad and cuddled into Chris’ side, grabbing the ice cream out of her mother’s hands and starting to steal a few spoons full of sugary delight. He had thought about getting up to change into something more comfortable, but he decided that this was much better. He could outlive a few hours without his sweatpants. Leo returned after bringing the kitchen towel into the laundry room and bent down to press a kiss to the top of his youngest daughter’s head. “I would head over if you don’t need anything else, darling,” he said, and YN looked up to him with all the love she held for this man. “Of course. Thanks again for coming over and handling everything.” She really had lucked out in the family department, even before finding Chris and creating her own perfect family with the perfect man that was her husband. The DiCaprio smiled down at her and kissed her forehead. “That’s nothing to thank me for.” And with that, he kissed his grandkids goodbye before patting his son-in-law’s shoulder. “There is a cake in the oven, but the timer is set.” Chris nodded, and after peeling a grumpy Ophelia off his side, he stood up and brought Leo to the door.

There, the older man turned again. “Before I go… I wanted to thank you, Chris, for making her so happy. You know what happened to her mother, and though it was a long time ago, it had always cast a shadow over her.” Chris knew what Leo was referring to; YN had told him about the traumatic labor her mother went through, only that she died and the baby with her. It had taken its toll on Leo, too, and the whole family had needed years to recover from it. It still amazed Chris how she had handled every pregnancy and every birth, although she knew what could go wrong. “But with you, she finally is… I can’t even describe it. Not to mention that you took her fear. So… Thank you.” Both men hugged each other closely, patted their backs reaffirmingly. “It’s an honor to love her and have her in my life because you raised one of the best women on earth. You deserve every thank I could offer you,” Chris mumbled before they let go of one another. Leonardo waved it off, but in reality, it was the proudest achievement in his life. YN and her sister were his pride and joy, just as Ophelia, Aiden, and the little one were Chris’ pride and joy. “Have a good night, Chris, and give me a call if it’s happening, yeah?” Chris nodded without hesitation. “Yeah, of course.“

Returning into the living room in his favorite sweatpants and Red Sox shirt—one of the few he actually was allowed to wear and which wasn’t claimed by his darling wife—Chris sat back next to Ophelia and out his arm on the back of the couch to softly caress YN’s neck and shoulder. “The kids decided that we’re watching Wall-E,” she let him know while his eldest already held onto the remote and scrolled through Disney+. “Daddy?” He hummed in question at Aiden’s voice. “Lia and I want see biiiiig Sox,” he told the family, and YN softly shrugged at Chris’ questioning look in her direction. “If they’re still there, why not? You two have to take a lot of pictures for me, ‘kay?” Aiden nodded with a serious expression. “Otay!” YN carded through her son’s mop of blonde hair—Chris’ genes definitely outrun hers—and changed another look with her husband, both obviously thinking the same. “You know, after your brother or sister is born, maybe we could check out Disney World and if they already have a Buzz and Sox there.” Both parents knew what mentioning Disney World would do to their kids, but they didn’t mind the explosion of tiny voices. Instead, Chris settled back right next to his wife, hand again on her bump, while they watched their children playing in the living room—Dodger was Sox, Ophelia played Izzy, and Aiden was Buzz himself.”

YN laughed softly and leaned her head onto Chris’ shoulder. “We really have a Disney obsessed family.” Chris grinned in total contentment and kissed her head. “We have, and I don’t want it any other way.”

;

I don’t know where all these words came from, but I kinda couldn’t stop writing. Even though it’s kinda shitty, I hope y’all enjoyed it! As usual: Comments, reblogs, and likes are much appreciated <3

[callme-aprilroseisha04]

I so badly wanna know what's going on with Sonic in your Voices AU!!! (This is an invitation for you to info dump if you so desire)

OK so originally I had this MONSTER essay on what this was about but im really really bad at explaining things and I don’t want to leave you hanging forever so instead I’ll just give you a basic rundown of the concept and all the plot points. Also, important thing to mention, I HAVEN’T FINISHED SEASON 2 YET. Y’know, where the majority of my AU takes place. Haven’t finished that. Haven’t even seen Chaos Metal Sonic. Sorry, sorry, I know, I’m a fake fan but in my defense every time I turn on the show I want to bang my head against a wall, tear all my skin of, and run in circles at the speed of light (in a good way) (but also in a bad way) (a good bad way). Now that we’ve gotten that out of the way, I need to quickly explain the concept behind this. In the first episode of Season 2, Avoid the Void, Sonic doesn’t realize that he can run out of the Ghost World. He’s stuck there. This also means that he can’t save shadow from falling into the void (this is why shadow doesn’t have his arm or his leg in my au illustrations, he wakes up before he can be fully disintegrated, but he did lose some limbs.) Back to Sonic, since he has nothing better to do, he tries to take a nap at the beach where his friends are at and starts “taking” to Tail’s projection. Then, the voice comes. I don’t really know how to describe this. There is a voice, like the name says, but it’s also a lot more complicated than that. When “it” comes, Sonic can’t hear anything; or, well actually he can hear things (sometimes the noise feels oppressively loud) but he doesn’t know what people are saying, so to him it just sounds like gibberish. Also, this isn’t always true, (it just depends) but his eyes won’t focus properly and they get really blurry, like can’t see what’s in-front of you blurry. Also, headaches! Because apparently we needed to make this even worse for him for some reason!!!!! It’s not at its worst here, but as you can expect, he is pretty disoriented after it’s done. Shadow comes back to the ghost world, Sonic is understandably surprised by HIS LACK OF TWO LIMBS, he gets the tech and bounces, yadayadayada, all the stuff. More importantly, now we get Nine back! Chapter two; Sonic goes to Boscage Maze, they’re ripping the place up, Sonic goes to help Thorn, mini “voice” episode (as an appetizer), he gets a tech upgrade from Nine, he goes to fight, gets the main course “voice” episode, Nine gets in trouble cause emo tween egg boy caught him talking to Sonic trying to figure out what’s wrong with him and why he’s talking to himself, Sonic gets the shard from Thorn, he runs of with it, emo eggboy sends a message that they’re gonna kill Nine unless Sonic gives them the shard, Nine tells him not to, he goes anyway and THROWS THE SHARD INTO THE OTHER SHARDS THE EGGMEN HAD COLLECTED SO HE CAN SAVE NINE, (he tries to get the shards back but they got swarmed by robots) and finally they get out and go to the ghost world. Shadow is really, REALLY mad at him for trading a SHARD just to save his little kit boy and ALSO mad because Sonic wants to keep Nine there, to keep him safe. Eventually, Shadow gives in after Nine mentions that he could build Shadow a prosthetic, but he adds the clause that the moment Nine finishes the prosthetic, he leaves. After that, Sonic goes to get the rest of the shards back while Nine makes Shadow’s prosthetic at Tail’s workshop. For the next few chapters, Sonic get into some sort of a routine; Try to get the shards, come back to the ghost world to rest, squabble with Shadow, chat with Nine for a little, and repeat. Some important things to mention from this period are: 

Nine is intentionally taking his time making Shadows prosthetic (Sonic’s idea) as well as making it break really easily & adding a secret “feature” that allows him to $&@!?ING electrocute him from afar using a remote implanted in his mechanical tails (both and especially the last one NOT Sonic’s idea); 

Sonic doesn’t actually sleep during this time, he just takes 3 hour naps so he can get back home quicker, which only worsens the voice thing; 

Shadow, (who doesn’t understand anything about what’s going on with Sonic other than the vague sense that something’s wrong with him, unlike Nine who got a basic lil explanation from Sonic after asking wtf happened at boscage maze) is getting increasingly frustrated with Sonic because of how long it’s taking for him to get all the shards, as well as his continual trusting of Nine.

This continues for a while, those “episodes” get worse and worse, Sonic grows closer to Nine and tension keeps building between Sonic & Shadow until <drumroll………>

THE EGG COUNCIL COMES!!!!! Again, since I still haven’t seen season two of Sonic Prime, I don’t really know how this is gonna happen, but I do know it’s gonna happen. (btw Nine finishes Shadow’s prosthetic & leaves like a day before the egg council comes.) This is a massive battle and I have like a whole thing on how it’s gonna play out but the important things to note for the story are: Shadow finally sees Sonic’s “episodes” play out in front of him and he is understandably confused and concerned, but their in a battle right now so he can’t really do anything about it and <another drum roll please…..>

SONIC TRIES TO CHOP OFF HIS F$!?KING ARM! Ok, I definitely need to explain this a little more. During the first occurrence of the “voice,” it mentions something about them and Sonic being the same person, & basically says “I am a part of you, Sonic. The only way to get rid of me is to get rid of you.”  Edgy stuff like that, y’know? Well, during this one, it repeats that phrase again and in true Sonic fashion, he decides to do something incredibly stupid, risky, and drastic based on even dumberreasoning. You see, the voice said it was a part of him, not all of him. It also said that in order to get the voice out, he’d have to “get rid” of himself too. So, using this logic, if he only gets rid of a part of him, then he gets to keep living without the voice constantly haunting his every move! This is admittedly pretty silly logic, but he was in the middle of what is essentially a scaled up panic attack, so cut him some slack, OK? He tried to use a piece of scrap metal that fell off the robot to remove it, which unsurprisingly doesn’t work very well. It only ends up cutting halfway, but Sonic can’t really tell that it’s still attached since he’s so tired, & “it” did shut up after he stabbed his arm open soooooooo¯\_(ツ)_/¯. He manages to drive the egg council off to their own dimension before passing out from blood loss, leaving Shadow to rush him to Tail’s workshop so he can get bandaged up, made harder with Shadz’s new leg getting absolutely trashed. When Sonic finally wakes up, Shadow is confused, deeply concerned, and angry with him for almost killing himself for seemingly no reason. Sonic, however, is incredibly calm about the whole thing and nonchalantly explains why he cut off his arm during the battle, until he realizes his arm is still attached to him 

Here’s a comic page of the next scene:

He leaves to go get more shards and get Nine back to fix Shadows leg, which Shadow predictively grumbles about. This is a pretty light chapter, besides the ending:

Nine and Sonic are hanging out, having fun, the usual. Nine points out how cheery Sonic is right now, and Sonic starts to explain why he’s in such a good mood while Nine passes a small knife for him to hold while he does other things. Sonic, in the middle of his explanation, is cut off by…… “it” and proceeds to frantically rip off his bandages and try to cut the remainder of his arm off with the knife Nine gave him. Nine, who has no idea what’s going on, tries to wrangle back the knife from Sonic. In the struggle, Sonic ends up permanently scaring Nine on one of his eyes. It was an accident of course, but Nine bolts out of the workshop and zaps the door so Sonic can’t chase after him all the same. Sonic breaks down. 

After a bit, (about 30 minutes or so,) and after seeing and briefly meeting with Nine to ask where Sonic has been since he should be with him at the workshop; Nine responded with a suggestion to check for himself, Shadow decides to take Nine’s advice and go. Here’s the scene I wrote for this, as well as the comic I made (they have some dialogue differences, but the general idea is the same.)

“Sonic,”

He didn’t even look up. He was completely unfazed, almost expecting it.

“Sonic!”

Finally realizing who it was, he made a soft gasp, which, however small, was enough for Shadow to know he was listening.

“Do you know how big of a mess you’ve just made?”

They both stayed silent.

“Let me get this straight: That, … thing came back,”

The blue hedgehog sitting on the floor appeared perfectly still in the darkness of Tail’s old workshop.

“So you decided that it would be a good idea to try to cut your arm off again, even though it clearly didn’t work the first time, and I explicitly said not to, because we didn’t have the medical supplies to patch you up after,”

This time, he made a slight nod downwards.

“And when the fox tried to stop you, you hit him in his FUCKING eye? Is that all? Does it get any worse than that?”

The hedgehog didn’t respond. He was focused on something else.

“Are you even listening?”

Complete. Silence.

“Of course not. Of course you’re not listening. You never have, so why start now, huh?”

Shadow broke into a grin.

“You can’t listen to anyone, can you? Not your friends, not your allies, not even your own family! You’re Sonic the Hedgehog. The arrogant, narcissistic, naive, idiot hero who destroyed his own world because he couldn’t slow down. That’s all you are.”

Still nothing. He got angrier.

“I’m TIRED of your NONSENSE! I’m TIRED of you just sitting around having a PITY PARTY over something YOU CAUSED YOURSELF!”

Shadow grew quiet.

“I’m tired of your games, Sonic.”

A cold, hard, stare crossed the black and red hedgehog’s face.

“SO GET UP ALREADY!”

He forcefully pulled him off the ground, and for the first time during this whole conversation, Sonic spoke. He… screamed, a scream so loud you could hear it from a mile away. 

Shadow let go. 

Then, he slowly lowered his hand to his face, and …. No. The hedgehog gazed into the person standing before him, looking for something, anything, any semblance of the hedgehog he knew, but all that met him was an empty husk that he could barely even recognize.

“I-”

Sonic ran past him. He was gone. And Shadow didn’t know if he would ever come back.

“I’m sorry.”

———————————————————————

Sonic runs into the New Yoke rebel base and patches himself up. He’s able to get two shards from the egg council, but the rebel base is found in the process. There’s only one left, besides the Grim shard. Before Sonic leaves, Shadow tries to talk to him for a moment, but once he got a hold of him, he doesn’t know what to say. Does he apologize? Would that make things worse? Is he just supposed to wait it out and hope Sonic’s friends will help him? Sonic is still able to collect the shards, so they’re still getting back home, but what will happen after that? As much as Shadow hated to admit it, Sonic and his friends were just about the only force that could stop The Doctor from completing whatever world ending scheme he cooked up that week, other than himself. If he …. If something bad happened to Sonic after this, and he couldn’t get back up from it, and if he couldn’t pick up the slack, then….

He didn’t know what would happen. 

Shadow is barely able to get a word in before Sonic leaves to get the last shard. There’s nothing left to do.

Before we move on to the next plot point in the story, i want to talk about Nine for a second, since we haven’t really gotten the chance to explore him at all yet. A quick little thing I want to note is that Nine knows what the plan is in the AU. Get the shards, put them together, and save this world. He is planningto betray Sonic in this. At the same time, he’s also a lot closer to him. They hang out more, they chat more, and both of them feel the other is the only one on their side right now. Nine reasons that he can just convince Sonic to come with him, since they’re friends after all. He doesn’t really pay Shadow any mind, just thinking of him as an antagonistic coworker, not a real threat. The zapper he put in his leg was just a backup plan, incase he couldn’t fight him himself for one reason or another. Sonic and Nine were a team. They wouldn’t hurt each other. Until they did. Until Sonic did. After the incident, all of the trust between the two is gone. Nine doesn’t blame Sonic per say, he knows that Sonic was just desperate for it to stop, but he’s still angry. He’s angry at himself for trusting him. For trusting that he wouldn’t get hurt. From this point onwards, neither of them try to talk to each other. Nines plan only changes slightly.  He won’t try to convince Sonic to come with him. He won’t make that mistake again. 

Sonic’s feelings are a bit more complicated than Nine’s. He wants to fix everything, but he can’t. He wants everything to go back to normal, but too much has happened for that to even be a possibility. He wants everything to just stop for a minute, to just let him rest, but no matter what, it won’t. He just has to keep going. He just has to keep moving forwards. 

Sonic gets the last shard (Sonic and Shadow have to fight off the egg council again; it’s pretty awkward), and Nine finally puts his plan into motion. Using a machine he built while Sonic wasn’t around, he creates a portal to the Grim, his new home. Sonic begs Nine not to do this, that they’re friends, but that only makes Nine angrier. If they were friends, then Sonic would want to help him, if they were friends, then Sonic would’ve listened to him, and if they were actually, really friends then Sonic WOULDN’TV’E DONE THIS TO HIM.

Shadow had been outside the whole time listening to this, and he has heard enough of Nine’s ramblings. He lunged straight at Nine, but just as he’s about to reach him…. ZAP.  They both stare down at Shadow’s limp, burned body. Sonic’s head started spinning rapidly. He couldn’t tell who was in front of him, he couldn’t tell what was going on, he couldn’t tell where he was or who he was or why he was doing any of this at all. All he knew was that Shadow. Was. Dead. Because of him. Because hedecided to trust him. He spin-dashed straight into the kit’s chest, pressing him deeper and deeper into the rough, ragged cavern floor. One of his mechanical tails snapped from the shear force the spin dash on his body. Sonic slowly picked the broken hunk of metal, held it above the little fox’s body, and …

He ran as far as he can go. He ran and ran until he just couldn’t anymore and broke down in the middle of f@!king boscage maze. They’re dead. Both of them are dead. And it’s his fault isn’t it? If he had listened to Shadow about Nine then he wouldn’t had gotten electrocuted. If he had listened to Nine then Nine wouldn’t have betrayed them. If he had listened to his friends then none of this would’ve happened in the first place. But he didn’t. And now they’re all dead. So why even try? Why even try to help people if you only end up hurting them? What’s the point? What’s the point of anything anymore? Sonic’s grip on sanity finally snaps, when someone finally finds him….

It’s Thorn. She’s been watching Sonic this whole time and is understandably disturbed by the whole, watching someone have a meltdown thing. Seeing that Sonic has seemingly calmed down, she reaches to ask what happened to him, why he was so scared, but it was too late. Sonic grabbed Thorn by the neck, just before Mangey, Prim, and Gnarly came looking for her. Meanwhile:

Shadow tackles Nine, shoving him into the portal and just barely managing to close it before he got back. But now, both Shadow and Nine are both stranded. Without the shards, Nine can’t create a portal to escape the Grim. Shadow can’t enter any of the shatter spaces, so even if he could leave the ghost world, he’d still be trapped. They’re both stuck. 

Back with Sonic, the boscage maze crew are still trying to snap him out of it as he attacks them and their home. Prim keeps arguing this is pointless, that they should just beat him up until he leaves, but Thorn won’t let that happen. Sonic’s still in there. He has to be. This gamble fails, the forest is mostly destroyed and Mangey is injured. (btw the boscage maze stuff I just talked about isn’t very plot relevant, just wanted to mention it cause I could.) When Sonic finally leaves boscage, he plans to go to the other realities as well, destroying them one by one. But, for some reason, he decides to go to the Grim instead. He’s not quite sure why, but goes anyway. Why not, after all? 

Nine has been on edge the entire time he’s been in the Grim. It made sense, after all. Sonic was still alive, and presumably, still looking for the last shard. His best bet was to try to find it before he found him. Nine had been searching for about a day and a half, getting increasingly desperate by the hour. He wished he had stolen the tech he gave to Sonic, or made another one that could help him track where the shard was. Suddenly, Sonic arrives. And Nine’s not exactly happy to see him again. Sonic immediately starts attacking, Nine trying as hard as he can to get a hit in. As they’re fighting, Nine has a realization. He can use this to his advantage. All he has to do is keep Sonic chasing him and his shoes will tell him where the last shard is. Then, try to trigger the “voice” so he can get the shard. Finally, finish. the. job. Unfortunately, the second step doesn’t go to plan. He’s able to get the shard but…….

Sonic gets to him before Nine could run off with it.

And when he watched him bleed out, when he watched the blood pour out of his chest, when he realized that he was dead, that there was no way he could come back from this, no way he could still miraculously be alive, no chance that he could ever fix what he had done, Sonic fully accepted what he had become. A mindless, murderous, monster.

Shadow has been waiting this whole time; waiting for Sonic, waiting for the last shard, and waiting for a chance to actually apologize for what happened at the workshop. But that chance had already passed, it seemed. Sonic slowly walked into the cave, where everything started, Grim shard and metal tail both in hand. The two hedgehogs met eyes. Sonic stood in shock for a minute, then smiled. One last person to kill.  He hopped down from the cave’s mouth, tossed the shard to the side, and gripped the bloody scrap metal harder. Then, he lunged. They start battling it out as Shadow tries to put the pieces together on what happened. Sonic keeps teasing and joking with Shadz while they’re battling it out. Eventually it just devolve into rants about how stupid everything is, and how stupid he was for ever thinking he was a good person. When Shadow finally gets a good look at how deteriorated Sonic’s mind has become, he can’t help but wonder what he could’ve done to stop this. But it’s too late for that now. He was too slow. Shadow eventually gets the upper hand and corners Sonic, toppling him over. Here’s the passage I wrote for the next scene: 

——————————————————————

Shadow grasped the jagged piece of metal and held it just above the blue hedgehog’s skull, shaking with what he couldn’t tell was rage or fear. Sonic’s eyes stared up at him, his maniacal grin completely wiped. Instead, a blank expression crossed his face. It wasn’t exactly fear, it wasn’t exactly shock, it wasn’t exactly sadness and it wasn’t exactly relief. It was…. everything, all mashed into one giant, unreadable expression. For once, Shadow felt he genuinely understood Sonic. For once, he knew exactly what he was feeling. Shadow dropped the blade. He hugged him.

“Wh-?”

“Because you need it.”

Sonic couldn’t hold back any longer. The tears that he had been repressing for so long now streamed down his cheeks like waterfalls as he leaned further and further into Shadow’s embrace. All the words he had wanted to say for so long spilled out of his mouth in a giant river, jumbled and broken and completely incoherent as he tried to explain it all, as he tried and tried and tried to apologize for everything he had done. 

“I-I didn’t-”

“Shhh”

“I j-just-”

“Shhh”

“I c-couldn’t”

“It’s OK. Sonic, look at me.”

He lifted up Sonic’s tear stricken face with his hand, staring into his eyes, tinted with pain.

“It’s all gonna be OK.”

the end.

———————————————————————

And that’s it! This took a while to write, so thanks for sticking around through it all, that was really cool of you. A few little notes about the epilogue & after story.

Epilogue:

I need to clear something up before I can start discussing what happens in the epilogue. You may have noticed some of the Sonic art I’ve posted (mostly the ones with Sonic using a prosthetic arm) mentioned something about an epilogue. This is a mistake. What past me was trying to say was that this was from the after story. I just forgot the word for it, sorry! With that out of the way, let’s begin. After Sonic’s finally cried it all out, they both get up and he thanks Shadow for the hug. Shadow accepts, and there’s a cute lil scene where the two of them are just… talking, while they go to grab the last shard from the top of the mountain to put it back in its place. After they’re done, Sonic hesitates for a moment. Should he go back to them? After everything, he doesn’t really believe that they would want to see him, not after what he’d done. But Shadow reassures him that if HE could forgive Sonic, then his friends probably would too. They both go their separate ways, and Sonic finally gets to see his friends again. He (tries) to explain what happened, why he’s missing an arm and covered in blood, all that stuff, and they are understandably horrified at…. EVERYTHING he’s saying but ultimately forgive him. They all leave to get chili dogs, and we end with the whole gang minus Shadow having a picnic and Sonic FINALLY taking a nap on Tail’s tails.

After Story: 

I don’t have much of this part planned out outside from a prosthetic design for Sonic and the BAREST of story outlines so I’m just gonna make a bullet point list.

Eggman steals the paradox prism

Everyone (including Shadow) gets together to make a plan to steal it back

Sonic messes up the plan somehow and starts freaking out

Shadow yells at him, making it worse

Sonic runs away and has a panic attack 

After he calms down a little, Shadow goes to apologize 

They go back and come up with a new plan

It works & they all go get some food (including Shadow, after a lot of convincing)

———————————————————————

Final, FINAL Notes: OH MY GOD THIS TOOK SO LONG TO WRITE THIS WAS SUPPOSED TO BE DONE IN ONE WEEK OH MY GOD. thank you again so much for reading all of this this is so long oh my freaking god why’d I make this so long? uh, this mostly serves as a reference sheet so you know what scene im drawing so I can stop getting questions on what is going on. speaking of questions, if you have any, ask! im bad at explaining stuff, so im sure there’s PLENTY. just to make sure im not getting anyone’s hopes up btw, i dont know if I’ll actually end up making this a full fic, mostly cause ive never made one before & i dont know how to use ao3 yet :( feel free to use any and all ideas mentioned within this mega-essay with or without credit, i support you! with this last, last, LAST note, I think I will leave you be.

(also sorry that this took so long to write, it got deleted 3 separate times so I had to start over haha :))))))))))

[elrondsscribe]

Okay so here’s the thing. I freely admit I am Big Stupid. I forget things constantly. The Vampire Chronicles is a layered tale packed with constant retcons and gaps getting filled. Whole chunks of characters’ stories slip my mind on the reg.

So I understand I may be missing something major.

But.

From where I’m standing … I know that Armand was v upset when it happened, and given everything he’d been through to that point he’s absolutely allowed to be upset; but did Marius do wrong by turning Sybelle and Benjamin?

Hear me out: the rule of this universe wrt humans who tango with vampires is there’s only three eventual outcomes: death, madness, or vampirism. Obvs if Armand had his choice at that point in the series he’d have preferred them to have regular human lifespans and eventually die, but 1) given his history with Daniel, who knows if he wouldn’t eventually have changed his mind, and 2) it might not have been what they necessarily wanted for themselves. Cause the way both Sybelle and Benji talk makes it sound like they might’ve actually asked Marius to get vamped??

(And Pandora? Or wtf was Pandora even doing while all this was happening? She was there, what was she doing?)

Because here’s their response to it:

(…) Sybelle rose from the piano, and with her arms out ran to me. And Benji, who had been watching all the while, rushed to me also, and they imprisoned me gently in their tender arms.

“Oh, Armand, don’t be angry, don’t be, don’t be sad,” Sybelle cried softly against my ear. “Oh, my magnificent Armand, don’t be sad, don’t be. Don’t be cross. We’re with you forever.”

“Armand, we are with you! He did the magic,” cried Benji. “We didn’t have to be born from black eggs, you Dybbuk, to tell us such a tale! Armand, we will never die now, we will never be sick, and never hurt and never afraid again.” He jumped up and down with glee and spun in another mirthful circle, astonished and laughing at his new vigor, that he could leap so high and with such grace. “Armand, we are so happy.”

“Oh, yes, please,” cried Sybelle softly in her deeper gentler voice. “I love you so much, Armand, I love you so very very much. We had to do it. We had to. We had to do it, to always and forever be with you.”

Like, in the immediate aftermath, they’re both over the moon about it; they’ve even fed already. Later in the Prince Lestat era, they both seem fine; like I’m not recalling any major fledgling angst.

Claudia was eternally unlucky, and she was intensely lonely. Her relationships with both Lestat and Louis were complicated and strained (to the point that she tried to kill Lestat), she didn’t really have peers, and by the time she finally got a companion Armand was already engineering her death.

Daniel gradually went unhinged for a decade before becoming a vampire, and Armand might’ve blamed himself for Daniel’s full-fledged insanity afterward but it sounds to me like even if he’d somehow survived that horrible night he’d have lost his mind anyway. (By the way, who was it that kept Daniel fed while he was in that madness, huh?)

Benjamin and Sybelle are super lucky, relatively speaking; they have each other as peers, and Armand is somewhere between a peer and a guardian. From what we see in the PL era, they have their pursuits, they have a place in the vampire world — as fledgling vampires go, they seem to have as close to an ideal life as fledgling vampires get.

And like,, they got what they wanted: their Forever With Armand, with the sweet bonus of less physical harm to fear. And in the long run, after the … Veil-induced mania? wears all the way off, it seems like Armand isn’t that unhappy about it either.

So.

As much as Armand is totally allowed to have his feelings about it in the moment, all things considered it doesn’t seem like Marius “ruined” much of anything by turning them. At least not to me.

(Marius and Pandora? Tf was she doing?!)

[pixlpxie]

Hi babe!! Puppet anon here again, I’m actually kinda glad that last ask didn’t send bc I feel like I didn’t elaborate enough so here, let me *expand*

Like, I 100% agree Yunho has to train you to take in his hand. For that, and to fully control you too.

He starts out slow, with only a couple fingers at first, but gives you this rule from the beginning: you can only make sounds when allowed to. He’ll find a point in your neck or your back to squeeze when he wants to let you speak. If you moan or make any noise without his permission, he punishes you by not letting you cum, and when he’s three fingers deep in you and has edged you for like the third time and feels you’re close once again he grabs that spot and tells you to “sing for me” as he goes even harder. He finally lets you air out all the moans and screams you’ve been holding and you cum for the first time.

But you’re not stretched enough yet. So without any time to waste he places you on his cock slowly, praising you as your hole swallows every inch and stretches you so perfectly. He then fucks you within an inch of your life (<3) that by the time he commands you to speak again, you cannot make any coherent sentences, just plead for his cock senselessly.

And he’d be so mean about it too, he’d say something like “Can’t talk, puppet? Too complicated for a stupid fucktoy like you? Don’t worry, your Master can do that for you.”

By the time you’ve had your second orgasm on his cock, you feel yourself falling deeper into subspace, the more he fucks you like an object, your body starts to believe you are.

So when he fills your pussy with his own seed and there’s finally enough stretch and lubrication, he’ll sit you on his lap and fit his hand one finger at the time, praising you all the way through as you feel it stretch you more and more.

“That’s it, puppet. You’re taking me so well, you’re my beautiful toy, aren’t you? So precious, such a good girl.”

When he’s done, the fullness inside you just feels out of this world, you truly feel like you’ve become a part of him with just how much of him is inside you. And imagine if he did this in front of a mirror. You’d watch yourself sitting on his leg, absolutely ruined and looking so small compared to him, his wrist disappearing inside you as he looks at you with a fascinated smile. Truly looking like-

“My perfect little puppet.”

Now for the unhinged part, I do think that although realistically he wouldn’t be able to move any fingers, it would be so fucking hot if you felt how he hooks in two fingers and moves them inside you, telling you to open and close your mouth when he does. Your body just reacts on its own and does it without you having to think about, reacting so well to your master’s timing, like it already knows it’s job.

“Who do you belong to, puppet?”

And he, who is so good at doing voices, would give you the cutest high pitched voice when making you answer him as he moves his two fingers rhythmically and makes you speak.

“To you, Master.”

Babee... Do i even have to say anything 😩 you literally wrote a perfect fic here😣 but also imagine the bulge that would form on your tummy from having his hand inside you, it would drive him crazy and he would caress it with his free hand while moving the other one inside you to see the bulge move too. The more prominent your bulge is the more he'd feel like you belong to him, literally, like a puppet master owns his puppets... and the more you looked like a brainless toy the more he'd treat you like a real puppet. He would love seeing you so broken on his lap, unable to speak or even make sounds because you're that ruined.

[musicloverxoxo7]

I need to touch you – featuring Namjoon

Idol!Namjoon   x   fem!reader

Summary: After a fight you and Namjoon haven’t spoken to each other in a day. You also haven’t allowed him to touch you. He’s had enough now.

Themes/warnings: smut with a bit of plot, unprotected sex, orgasm denial, tying up, marking, nipple play, fingering, bit of fluff, established relationship

Wordcount: ca. 1.6k

Disclaimer: 18+, DO NOT INTERACT IF YOU ARE UNDER 18

I do not own BTS. They merely inspire me. None of this is related to their persons in real life.

Even though it’s been about 24 hours since the fight, you’re still sulking a bit. Mostly you’re mad that Namjoon didn’t send his usual lunch text. Even if you’re fighting, you still want that.

You put down your phone and go into the kitchen to make yourself a cup of tea. It’s been a long day for you as well. Work was good, but eventful.

The opening of the front door makes you turn. On a normal day, Namjoon might not be home for another hour or two.

Quickly, you turn away from the door again. He doesn’t need to see just how much you’ve longed for him. You pick out a cup and select a teabag.

“I’m home, honey”, comes the low voice from behind you.

“I heard that.”

You can feel him come closer and stop just short of you.

“Turn around… please.”

You put down the cup and turn around. He’s towering over you. His eyes look devastated. At the same time, he’s sucking in his cheeks in that hot Namjoon way, which is always a major turn on.

You raise an eyebrow at him.

“Enough, honey. I can’t do this. Let me touch you, please.”

“I never told you to stop touching me.”

You are engulfed in a hug so quickly you have the air knocked out of you. His strong arms hold you very tightly.

“You told me to get away from you.”

“Yeah, for, like, half an hour until I calmed down. You needn’t have slept on the sofa. If I’d wanted you to, I’d have told you.”

Namjoon pulls back his head a little. You look up at him. Your lips meet in a hungry kiss. His hands start roaming over your body as if he hadn’t touched you in weeks. You rest your hands on his firm pecks.

With one arm firmly around your waist, Namjoon starts walking backwards towards the bedroom. You only realize now that he’s still wearing his coat, hat and scarf.

You break the kiss.

“We should stop fighting like that.”

“And deprive us of the chance to have makeup sex? No way.”

Namjoon turns until the back of your legs hits the bed. He eyes you with a fond smile.

“My pretty honey. I hope you know what your lack of proper communication means.”

You hold up your hands, putting the wrists together.

“So arrest me, officer.”

His dimples appear as he smiles. He pulls off his scarf and ties it around your wrists with a series of complicated knots.

“Tightness?”

You tug on it.

“Works.”

“I’m arresting you for grave bodily harm, ma’am.”

Namjoon spins you around. Your back meets his chest.

“Ah, what a shame. What’s the punishment?”

“It’s quite severe, I fear.”

His hands make quick work of unbuttoning your blouse. Since you ditched the bra as soon as you entered the apartment, his hands now roam freely over your boobs and stomach.

“Mh, honey, you have the nicest boobs”, he whispers against your neck, cupping them. His mouth moves up and down your neck, shoulder and jawline, nibbling a little here and there. You’re like putty in his hands and he knows it.

“Stay right there and don’t move, or the punishment will be even harsher.”

His hands are gone and so is his body. You pout. It feels wrong and empty without him. Behind you, you hear the rustling of clothes.

It doesn’t take long until his chest touches your back again. You’re pretty sure he’s stripped off everything but his underwear. The urge to touch him is nearly all-encompassing at this point. It’s like he can read your mind.

“No, honey. You can’t touch me. Don’t even ask.”

You pout again. You know that if he could see your face, he’d give in. He starts kissing and marking your neck, sucking on it until you can feel the sting. His hands travel to your nipples. He twists and tucks on them until you feel like crying because it’s so nice and they’re so sensitive.

One of his hands leaves your nipple and moves down your stomach. He unbuttons your pants and impatiently slides his hand into your underwear. When he touches your clit, you’re barely holding on anymore.

You rub against his hand, trying to get him to move faster. Your stomach muscles contract and your legs shake. The high is nearly there.

Namjoon withdraws both his hands.

Your legs give up and you fall onto the bed.

“Why did you do that? I was so close.”

“Bad girls don’t get to cum.”

You turn onto your back and pull a grimace.

He smiles at you. The cute dimple smile. No matter how much he looks like an angel, he can be mean.

“Scoot back a little.” His voice is soft but authoritative. Years of practice. You do as you’re told.

Namjoon kneels down and pulls on your pants. You lift your hips. They come off, along with your underwear. Then he takes your legs, drapes them over his shoulders and pulls you closer until your clit nearly touches his nose.

“Are you going to deny me again?”

“We’ll see.”

You try to weigh if his tone sounds more like no or yes, but your brain decides it needs to focus elsewhere when Namjoon dives in with his tongue.

Having been together for years has taught him how you like things. Like the way he draws little circles with his tongue. You eagerly lean into the touch.

“Are you going to be a good girl now, y/n”, Namjoon asks, replacing his tongue with his fingers.

You raise your head to look at him. His eyes are dark and he’s smiling ever so slightly.

“Yes, I’ll be your good girl.”

“I’m not sure I believe that.”

He withdraws his hand. You feel naked and buck your hips to get some traction. Nothing.

“Please, Joon, please”, your whining sounds almost like a sob.

The tough guy façade melts and his eyes soften.

“You want me to keep going, honey?”

“Yes, please. Please. I want to cum.”

Namjoon dives back in with his tongue, gently playing with your clit. His fingers run over your entrance. You tilt your hips to make them slide into you. He chuckles. The vibrations make your eyes roll backwards.

He slips one finger into you and curls it right against your G-spot.

“Joon”, you moan.

Being denied twice, you can’t hold back much longer. The orgasm makes you nearly smother Namjoon with your thighs as you tighten around his finger. It takes you longer than normal to come down from your high.

You lie there, hands still tied, completely spent. Namjoon comes out from between your legs.

He picks you up and positions you in the middle of the bed. You aren’t too tired to appreciate the way his strong arms feel around you. With nimble fingers he unties his scarf and throws it off the bed.

You mouth quirks up into a smile. No wonder he always loses things.

Namjoon positions himself between your thighs and props his arms up next to your sides. He smiles down at you. Your bodies barely touch.

“I love you.”

“I love you too, babe.” You raise your hand and stroke his cheek. He leans into the touch.

“Are you tired?”

“A little. But I’m up for more.”

You run your hand down his body until you can palm the head of his dick. You can feel his entire body tense.

“You have to do the work, though.”

He doesn’t need telling twice. With one hand, he pushes down his underwear and guides his dick to your entrance. You rub against him. He always feels so nice.

Slowly, he pushes into you. The feeling of fulness is welcome after all the teasing before.

He bottoms out and lets out a groan.

You gently nudge him with your hips to start moving. He gets the message. The rhythm he sets is relentless. Each powerful, quick thrust has you clawing at his back. Your insides, still sensitive from the previous orgasm, get the right kind of friction to have you squeezing around him again, your legs turning into jelly.

Namjoon is panting above you. His sweatiness means there’s no friction as your bodies move in tandem. You dig your heels into the mattress to make the penetration even deeper. It feels like your soul leaves your body as you convulse under him.

The second high hits you.

You dig your nails into his back, dry sobs racking your body.

With a grunt, Namjoon lets go as well, spilling inside you.

He collapses on top of you, making sure to keep some of his weight off of you.

“How about next time we fight, we skip most of the not talking and just get to the good part?”

“I’m all for it”, Namjoon mumbles into your shoulder. He pushes himself up a little so he can look at you. “I hate when we don’t talk, and I can’t touch you. I want to hold you when we fall asleep.”

“I hated not talking as well. How about we work on our arguing techniques?”

“I’ll go to the library tomorrow and find us some good, recent books on it.”

You cup his cheeks and pull his face down again. Your lips meet in a gentle kiss. When you break apart, he looks down at you as if you were the only person that mattered in the world.

“I look forward to marrying you next spring, honey.”

He gets up and pulls out of you slowly.

“I’ll be back with a washcloth in a moment.”

As he walks towards the bathroom and you watch his nice ass, you think for the millionth time that you definitely are the lucky one.

© musicloverxoxo7, 2022

Please do not copy, translate, or repost my work. Doing so will make you legally liable for stealing intellectual property.

[writercole]

Change Your Stars

Summary: A leisurely ride turns dangerous. Words: 1860 Warnings: Fluff, description of an attack, suspense Credits: Unbeta'd. Just throwing them all out lately. A/N: For my @ryebecca - my bestie, my platonic soulmate, my sister from another mister (we think) - I love you, sweetheart! Enjoy :)

Life as a royal was complicated. I was expected to learn all the same things as my brother - riding, languages, politics, combat - but not able to use any of the skills or knowledge. I couldn’t even go on a ride by myself within the castle walls.

Which is where this discussion started.

“Father, I just want to take my horse out to see the leaves. It’s the time when they change and I would like to see them up close.”

“Daughter, you know the threats our kingdom has been under. I cannot let you take that risk. I’m sorry.”

“But you would let Jacob ride alone.”

“Jacob could defend himself against an attack.”

“So can I! We’ve had the same training! Plus I’m better with a sword than he!”

He sighed and put his hands on my shoulders, an apologetic smile on his face. “I know. But we have to be extra cautious right now. And, truthfully, I would not let your brother ride alone either.”

“Thank you,” I smiled. His confession made me feel seen and valued, something I was not used to in my daily life. It also gave me an idea. “What if I took someone along?”

“Who?”

“The stablehand. He’s also bested Jacob in hand to hand and bladed combat. Plus he’s familiar with the area and great with the horses.”

“I don’t know….”

“Please, Father,” I begged, sticking my bottom lip out to appear sad.

“Okay, fine,” he agreed, “but if he lets anything happen to you, it’s his head on a pike.”

“Always so dramatic,” I retorted with a roll of my eyes. Standing on my tip toes, I placed a light kiss on his cheek before hurrying away to the stables.

I couldn’t believe my plan had worked. Somehow, my father never caught on to the romance that blossomed between Scott and I. Unfortunately, because of my royal status, we had to keep our trysts a secret. It was strictly forbidden for a commoner to be with a noble but, seeing as how I was the spare heir anyway, I didn’t care. Love didn’t know the difference between statuses.

I rounded the corner of the barn and saw him in the paddock working with one of the colts. I slowed to a stop and watched as he led the pony around the fenced in area, patting its nose when it followed the instructions it was given.

“Are you spying on me, Princess?” Scott called without ever looking up.

“Were I spying, you wouldn’t have known I was there.” I crossed the rest of the way to the wooden barrier and leaned on the top rail to admire the man my father trusted with our horses. The sun glistened on his bare forearms, the tan skin shimmering under the sheen of sweat. His long hair started to curl at the ends, the humidity taking its toll on the dark locks.

I watched his muscles flex as he held onto the reins and led the young horse back to its stable. Once he was out of the corral, I fell into step at his side, letting my fingers brush against his as much as I dared in the open. He shut the pony away and I immediately stepped into his arms, enjoying the feeling of his heart beating beneath my ear.

“Did your father give you trouble?” His voice rumbled in his chest and I smiled.

“Nothing we haven’t handled before. He’s worried about the threats to the kingdom.”

“It’s good that he’s worried. It means he cares. About you, your family, this kingdom.” 

Scott’s explanation helped me to reconcile the fact that my father had become less willing to allow our freedom, even inside the castle walls. His concern for the wellbeing of our family warmed my heart. I nodded against his chest and sighed, nuzzling closer to him and inhaling the scent of him - hay, sweat, and dust, plus a hint of leather from the reins and bridle. 

“Are you ready for our ride?”

“I was born ready,” I joked. The laugh emitting from his mouth made his eyes crinkle. Somehow it made him look more beautiful than he already was.

We readied the horses and took them out to the forest, heading towards the stream. It was our favorite place, hidden from the prying eyes of the castle but still tucked in our castle grounds. The picnic Scott packed of cut fruit and wine capped off an otherwise perfect afternoon, laying together and talking about everything and nothing at all.

Heading back, the horses began to snort and refused to move forward, despite the efforts of either of us. Leaves rustled on my left and my head snapped that direction, my right hand reaching for my concealed dagger. 

Scott noticed this as well; his hand reached for the sword strapped to the saddle. Two men stepped out from the brush, their weapons drawn and pointed at us.

“Give us the princess,” they demanded.

“No,” we both said at once. 

Two more men stepped out on Scott’s side and he dismounted, the broadsword resting against his shoulder almost casually. 

“You’re going to have to go through me.”

The four men charged at him and he readied his stance, both hands gripping the handle of his sword. He swung back and forth, the clanging of metal and grunts of combatants filling the air. 

“Princess, go!” Scott shouted as one of the men fell to the ground in a bloody heap. Another man charged at Scott while a third turned towards me with a sinister grin. I tried to get my horse to move, to run, to backpedal, something, but it just stood there, frozen with what I assumed was fear. 

A shout drew the man’s attention back towards his compatriots, turning in time to see the second fall. The man who had started to stalk my direction changed his mind and lunged at Scott, getting a broadsword through his chest for his efforts. 

“Where’s the other one?” Scott asked as he turned his head left and right. 

It was then that I felt a hand on my boot. I screamed and drew my dagger, stabbing the man in the arm and making him stumble back. Scott put himself between us as I clambered off of the still horse. 

“You’re not safe, Princess,” he taunted while he gripped his bleeding arm.

“The hell she isn’t,” Scott growled as his blade sliced through the air, removing the final ambusher from the equation.

He tossed his sword on the ground and rushed around my horse, wrapping his arms tightly around me. As we stood there, holding on to one another, I wished we would never have to leave the safety of our bubble. But the reality was that we had to report back to my father immediately. 

“Are you okay?” Scott asked between kisses to my forehead.

“Shaken, but okay.”

“We need to get to the castle.”

I nodded against his chest and he guided me back to my horse, removing the bloody dagger from my hand before he helped me up. From the saddle, I could see the red staining the ground. The battered bodies lay in heaps on the dirt. Conflict raged within me. These men were dead. But they had tried to attack me, to do god knows what with me.

“They were going to hurt you, Princess,” Scott confirmed as he swung himself onto his horse. “They had to die.”

“I know.” My sigh was drowned out by Scott urging the horses forward at a gallop, heading back to the castle at full speed. 

We rode straight up to the castle doors and I went directly to my father, Scott in tow. “Father,” I sobbed when I laid eyes on him again.

“My daughter, what happened?” He opened his arms and held me against his chest while directing the question to Scott instead.

I barely heard the words that Scott said, just felt the tension building in my father’s body. 

“Guards, retrieve the bodies from the woods,” my father ordered. “And bring me my blade.”

My head snapped up and I stepped back, still sniffling with tears falling down my face. “Father, no. Please, don’t hurt Scott. He saved me.”

The guard arrived with my father’s sword and he accepted it, his face stoic. 

“Please, father. Listen to me.”

“Kneel, stablehand.”

“Father!”

“For services to the crown and the protection of my precious daughter,” my father recited, “I hereby dub thee Sir Scott of the Mills, honorable knight.” 

I breathed a sigh of relief knowing that Scott was not only safe, but also rewarded for protecting me from the people who wanted me dead - or worse. The blade was sheathed and my protector rose before being engulfed in a hug. 

“I can never repay you for saving my little princess. This is the best I can do at this time.”

“It is enough,” Scott accepted.

“No, it’s not.” Both men looked at me curiously. I’m sure I looked a sight, bloody hand, messy hair, muddy dress. But I was tired of being in the shadows. “I love him, Father. I wish to be the repayment.”

“What?” they both asked at the same time.

“Give me to Scott in marriage. I will renounce my title, I will do whatever I need to do. But I love him.”

My father stared at me in disbelief. Never before had I been thrilled with the idea of marriage. I’m sure my change of heart came as an utter shock to him. I was just going on a horseback ride to watch the leaves change and now I wanted to marry the man that saved me?

The silence stretched for what seemed like several days until my father finally nodded. “Okay. Scott, will you accept the hand of my daughter as repayment for saving her life?”

“No, your majesty, but I will accept the hand of the woman I love as proof that two star-crossed lovers can make it in the world,” Scott replied as he reached for me.

“That is the best answer I could have hoped for.” My father clapped my new fiance on the shoulder and smiled broadly. “It’s about time you two tell me about your romance. It’s been going on for far too long.”

“You knew?” I gasped.

“Of course I knew! It’s my kingdom, after all, what kind of king would I be if I didn’t know what went on with my own daughter?”

“Why didn’t you say something? I was so worried about you disapproving and this whole time -”

“Does it matter? He’s saying something now, darling. We can be together in the light.”

“You can be together for as long as you’d like,” my father said, “but if you’ll excuse me, I have bodies to identify, a war to start, and a wedding to have planned. A king’s work is never done.” He kissed me on the cheek and shook Scott’s hand before giving us both a hug and walking out of the room.

“Did you ever think that would happen?” I asked.

“Not in a million years.”

“Me either.”

[buggywiththefolkmagic]

Appalachian Witchcraft for Beginners: Review

This is: Appalachian Witchcraft for Beginners: The History, Remedies, and Spells of a Rich Folk Magic Tradition by Auburn Lily

Rating: 2/10

Pros: Some information presented is correct, like the information on “ingredients” isn’t too bad if not a super small amount of them, she mentioned red clay which a lot of books seem to forget exists. And this book’s aesthetics? 10/10 for the illustration work, colors, fonts! I also appreciated the insistence that you help the land as much as possible, as well as the land’s original inhabitants and to give Indigenous voices space. 

Cons: There is so much I was so disappointed by. First off let’s get this out of the way: The author in her bio on her own website auburnlily.com claims she is a starseed. I have a LOT of personal feelings about the Starseed movement and how it damages the progress of mental health and getting help and medication for said mental disorders. But this should have been the first major red flag that this book would not be what it says on the cover.

A lot of my problems are as follows:

Most folk workers don’t use the same three or four ingredients…in this case:

Peppermint. Rose. Essential Oils. Crystals, usually citrine or black tourmaline. 

Actually we tend to not use crystals at all unless we’ve adapted them into our practice ourselves…the old folk didn’t have pretty rocks to use they got at the New Age store in the town square, alright? 

A LOT of this information is definitely tinged in a new age and modern light. The correspondences for the days of the week mentions “The Goddess” which we don’t…deal with??? At all??

Another example:

Grannies used to use the bible and ‘faith healing’ to avoid persecution from their community.

Absolutely not! She mentioned the witch trials a minimum of 6 times, which (ahaha good pun) almost made me roll my eyes into the back of my head, then I read the bible to avoid persecution part and almost burned the book on the spot.

Faith healing is NOT a cop out. 

It was the way things WERE. Were there hexers? Yes. Were they given a wide berth sometimes? Also yes. But they also had their place in the community! The hexer in my family, Flossie, was respected with some fear, but she was also the person who scorned lovers and cheated on spouses went to. When the police were hounding moonshiners a few came to her for cop go away works. 

The author also insinuates that Yarb Doctors were held in higher regard because they didn’t use faith/and or gender may have had a point in that. I dunno what yarb doctors and grannies she talked to but men were not allowed in the birthing room, that was a Granny’s responsibility and by god they did it well. You never backtalked a Granny, they were and are the backbones of their communities. 

Now that I’m off that soapbox, the author also seems to believe that meditation, third eyes, astrology in a modern way, and crystals are critical for Appalachian witchcraft which is stupidly incorrect. Her recipe for floor wash is hogwash and far too simple and small, her candle color correspondences are laughable…especially that little line on Orange: “Helps with menstrual cramps.” If that was the case no straight woman in Tennessee would get cramps because they all wear orange at least once a week for their team. 

She only uses Hoodoo like…3 times which is better than most authors so I supposed that’s progress? But the author also hates baneful work and makes mention of that fact numerous times.

The author also has quite a few love spells mentioned, and weirdly enough…a lot of her ingredients in OTHER spells are also the same ingredients in her love spells. How strange. 

My final and most damning gripe, the author seems to believe that stereotypes make for amazing offerings to the ancestors. In particular…the Irish would appreciate offerings of potatoes. You have to be kidding me.

Overall: Yet another new age witch trying to make folk magic look far more complicated and fluffy than it is. I hated this so much. I didn't even touch the "Open the healing channel" and "Reparative Visualization" "SPELLS" she includes which sounds like absolute woowoo.

Proof of some of these claims are below: