#i wish i had a job so i could stop thinking like this. it’s unrelenting. incessant. it invades every moment.

[genderfluid-insomniac]

Genshin Catboy Maids Imagines (NSFW)

Characters: Gorou, Kazuha, Venti, Xiao, Heizou, Scaramouche/Kunikuzushi, Albedo and Aether

A/N: I would be lying if I say I didn't have so many daydreams while writing this and I want to turn all of these into their owns fics.

----------minors DNI-----------

Gorou

Who begged not to do this out of embarrassment and tried not to focus on how short the dress was or how his ears perked at every change in your body language, not at all trying to hide how aroused you were and pulled back the fabric of his stockings only to let them snap against his skin.

Who completed every task you asked him to do with such speed and and perfection, aiming to please you the best he could and obeying ever wish you uttered without humiliating himself.

Who tried to his his growing erection or the way his tail rapidly wagged when he accidently walked in on your in the bathhouse on his way to relax and let out some repressed tension, not expecting to have you ask him to help you with a problem and offering to wash his body in return (maybe even him him with his own issue).

Who doesn’t keep his moans suppressed at your request and pleasures you like you deserve while rutting his hips into your hole, water splashing out of the pool as you sank back down into his cock and kissed you like you were going to disappear.

Who will orgasm immediately if you pull his ears or tail and praise how good he is on taking your cock, his pretty tears sliding down his red face as he mindlessly babbles on and on about how he’s your good boy.

Kazuha

Who starts being a housekeeper for a small period of time since he was a simple traveler writing bits of poetry wherever he wanted to but took any job for the time and slowly became more infatuated with you.

Who looks like he was blessed by the gods is all too aware of your adoring stares and compliments about his gorgeous cream ears with red highlights, completing his work and offering to comb his silky tail.

Who notices that you often disappear for a brief period of time into your room and hearing strange noises thanks to his sensitive feline ears, coming back very flushed and avoiding his gaze.

Who can’t help to ask you if you’re okay or need help with anything and welcomes your kiss after you confess your feelings for him, pinning you against your bedroom door and hungrily nipping your neck that would for sure leave tasteful bruises.

Who is all too eager to undress you and play your body fluently like his flute you often see, sinking himself into your warm bare body and working his hips at a brutal unrelenting pace.

Venti

Who is always getting on your nerves by purposely bending down a bit too low so you see his matching pearly white panties that matched his uniform stained with with arousal and then laughing at your flustered expression with a innocently seeming question.

Who will do anything you ask while whining about how tight his stockings are and how the white parts of his maid outfit are going to become transparent if anything gets on it, grinning when he thanks you for the reward and remarking he would’ve done the task anyway.

Whose tail perks up whenever you walk into the room or smile at him and pet his ears to hear his deep purrs, complimenting his soft furry tail that he so nicely groomed just for this occasion and to please you.

Who always hums a tune while he scrubs the floors or makes the bed but constantly having a dirty image of him sucking you off before you fuck him silly and always ends up fucking his hand thinking of all the times he’s heard you masturbating with his ears

Who isn’t afraid to say in front of others how your moans are the best song of all and smirk when you drag him back to your room to punish when all along that’s what he wanted.

Albedo

Who already worked for your parents as a groundskeeper and had an adorable little sister who occasionally stopped by to play with your younger siblings, but not without giving you a hug and whispering about his older brother always talking about you while his tail and ear twitch.

Who has a deep blush on his cheeks as he pulls away Klee and apologizes for her “tall tales”, noticing how you sweetly smile at him and ask if you do talk about you outside.

Who begins to come over more often with Klee now at Daycare and leaves flushed with loosely put on clothing after being ruthlessly fucked by you, buttoning up his shirt to ensure that the dozens of hickeys that littered his body and sending you a quick text to have a good day.

Who can’t help but give in to your requests to see his art when you hear about it but warns you its lewd and then blushes upon hearing you want to be drawn like the nude models in his sketchbook, asking you to undress at least to the lingerie he’s seen on your this morning and has you lay down on the couch in a position that suited you best.

Who is always welcome to try something new like shibari or wax play, smooth but tight ropes binding his thighs apart so you could have full access to his pretty flushed cock that leaked precum and the hot burn of the wax dripping onto his perky sensitive nipples.

Xiao

Who never strays away from his duties no matter what you say and priorities his job before anything else, trying his best to suppress the dirty fantasies playing out in his mind and hiding his growing erection whenever you come in to check up on him.

Who doesn’t refuse whenever you ask him to each lunch with you or to help comb through the knots behind his fuzzy ears, complimenting his colored fur patterned on his tail and how he always seems to keep his feline features in the best shape.

Who caves when you ask if you can help him with your sexual frustration (of course you ask him if he’s okay with it with consent and all) and how you’ve seen him seemingly “unnoticeable” stares eyeing your figure.

Who can’t help but sink his fangs into your neck when you express how long you’ve waited to do this and kept hoping he’d realize those longing stares or break you’d both take together weren’t plutonic, the tons of love your held for your pretty kitty from the start.

Who gasps for air as he lifts his head up from pleasuring you with cum dripping from his mouth and just to dive back in, smirking at the moans coming from your mouth and working you towards another orgasm.

Who is the best at aftercare and lets the warm water wash over your shoulders while you lean against him ignoring the fact that he hates water for you, allowing his slightly sharp nails to graze your flushed sensitives nipples and gently kissing your puffed plump lips.

Aether

Who is always a good catboy and doesn’t need to be told what to do because he’s already done it, hoping to be praised in that sweet soft voice of yours and rewarded for going beyond what you asked.

Who will always shly ask to be pet on his head and cuddled on top of a mountain of blankets, purring while he hugs you tightly and thanking you for the best boss he’s ever had.

Who doesn’t hesitate to protect you if he gets a bad feeling from a guest or anyone that insults you and quietly letting you know that something’s off with the person, never leaving your side until they’re off the property entirely.

Who calls out your name before you leave the house to make sure you have everything and gets promised a reward if he doesn’t touch himself until you get back, tensing his thighs together as you send explicit nude photos to him as you work and rewinding the voice memos of your voice whining his name into the microphone.

Whose long blond braided hair provides the perfect hold as you fuck him from behind (don’t forget how sensitive his tail is) and praise him on how well he’s taking you, especially since his cock had two large silicone vibrators being pressed on either side of Aether’s shaft.

Kunikuzushi/Wanderer

Who acts like you’re the bain of his existence yet always leaves the house spotless and never goes home without checking if everything is locked for your safety, rolling his eyes when you sweetly wished him good night but secretly smiled at your concern for his well-being.

Who rudely wakes you up in time for your work, already preparing breakfast and chiding you on your fatigue when you slowly creep downstairs with a tired smile for your head maid or “assistant” as he liked to call it.

Who never failed to notice every twitch or change in your body language and would often tease you about being tense around him, closing the distance between you two and backing away to get back to the task he was working on.

Who pushed your buttons until you snapped, pulling him into a passionate kiss and humming happily when he pushed back.

Who until now has been so closed off and cold but when shown affection is all too eager to be fucked, pale small stature trembling beneath you as you rocked your hips up and down and feeling one of his hands cup your cheek while the other pinches your nipples.

Mumbling praises under his breath about how you feel so good inside him and begging for you to go faster, promising to never be bratty again and be a good boy if you would finally let him cum after being edged for a couple hours.

Heizou

Who was originally a detective that was assigned to you when someone briefly robbed your house but left no clues except for an old family heirloom that you hadn’t seen in years, feeling your stare whenever his ears twitched while he was deep in thought and suppressing a small giggle whenever his tail swayed happily.

Who grew attached to you and asked if you needed some security since it seemed that you (and your family) attract trouble, cheekily making a comment on how safe you’d be in his hands and using his tail to wrap around your neck with lidded eyes.

Who is no time memorized your schedule and property to make sure no one gets in without him knowing, politely flirting with you aware that it’ll lead to you two going at it like rabbits in his bedroom and testing how much he could push you before it got him punished.

Who sends you photos of his hard flushed cock leaking precum and videos of Heizou using a toy to making himself orgasm while he begged you to come home as fast as you could.

Who hears you close the door and is by your side in an instant with his maroon tail winding around your waist, asking oh so innocently to let him give you endless pleasure and guiding your hand up to his fluffy ears that you always stared at.

[wolfiesmoon]

Binding the book

duke!gojo x fem!reader

This is in a manhwa au?? I don't want to call it a royalty au since neither of you are royalty but its essentially your average manhwa plot

I've decided to write something completely unrelated to the canon plot of jjk since I'm still in the process of watching the anime lmaooo

i feel overwhelmed by this anime tbh someone save me , i might just skip to the second season since i've already seen the first one back when it first came out but lowkey forgor everything😵

He's talking to her with that smile on his face again. You really shouldn't be bothered by this anyway, so why do you keep staring? You know how this story ends for you anyways.

You quickly turned around, not wanting to invade upon Satoru's buisness any further. You weren't outright bothering him, but you have a feeling he wouldn't enjoy you staring at him from behind the corner like some stalker. Not when he has better things to be looking at.

You've been married to Gojo Satoru for exactly 3 months now. It was a marriage born of neccessity, pure interest to stop marriage pressure from your families. Atleast on his side, it was. He made that clear during the marriage proposal.

"Well, I'm mostly just doing this so mom stops nagging me about finding a wife already. I'm sure the same applies to you."

Those words have been replaying in your head for a while now. You've known Satoru only for about a year at that point, and even then it was mostly through social events you attended that he also happened to be attending.

So needless to say, it was simulaneously a complete surprise and completely expected when he suddenly gave your family a surprise visit to offer his hand in marriage.

You knew there was zero romantic feelings involved from the very beginning, so you know you shouldn't be surprised if Satoru wants to leave you for Lady Ichikawa, the girl he talks to almost every day. But your heart can't help but clench at the sight, and you wish Satoru could...

Nevermind.

You should be attending to your duties anyways.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You sighed, practically collapsing on your bed. Finance is not fun, to say the least. Being the Lady of the house is a suprisingly tiring job, and definitely gives you more respect for your mother.

The servants had already helped you change into your night gown, and you were perfectly ready to hit the hay right now.

As the servant put out the lights in the chandelier, you thought about Satoru again. The guy is an annoyingly persistent thought in the back of your head, that's for sure.

You haven't even talked in a week.

Sure, the two of you tend to get busy, but this essentially just proves to you what kind of marriage this is. If he did care about you, he would've checked up on you atleast once, wouldn't he..? You don't have a right to complain about it anyways, since you were the one who agreed to the marriage in the end. You should be grateful you even had a say in it.

As the servant closed the door behind you, you clutched the pillow in your hand. Maybe if you keep being useful, he won't discard you. You've only been thinking of yourself up until now. You just now realise that if he leaves you for Lady Ichikawa, you'll lose your family face.

This is shaping up to be a nightmare.

Suddenly, you hear a knock on the door. "Oiiii, can I come iiiin?"

Well, speak of the devil. You would recognise that voice anywhere. "Sure, come in." you said so, but did you want to face him right now? You felt conflicted, both really happy and really nervous.

As the door opened, you turned your head, his silhouette, illuminated by the lights in the doorway coming into view. "Man, it's dark in here. You're going to sleep so early?" he said casually as he turned on the oil lamp on your table.

You only nodded in response, looking at him with half wonder half suspicion. Why is he paying you a visit all of a sudden? "What..? Can't a husband visit his wife?" Satoru furrowed his brows, noticing your dimmly lit expression and sitting down on the edge of your bed.

"I'm happy you're here." You assured him. And you truly were.

"Right, of course you are." Satoru smirked boldly at you, but somehow, you could tell that he was relieved to hear it. He looked in front of him.

"I got you this." he said a little more quietly, handing you a book as you sat up in bed. But it wasn't just any book. "No way... how did you even get your hands on this?!" you blinked multiple times in the dim light, making sure your eyes weren't playing tricks on you.

When you realised how loud you just were, you quickly covered your mouth, and Satoru laughed at you for a bit before saying "I have my ways."

"That... doesn't answer the question. How much did this even cost?"

"...You shouldn't worry so much."

That idiot... You took another look at the book in your lap, the rare book you were trying to get your hands on for 3 years at this point. You can't help but wonder if the emergency finance work you had to do today has something to do with this.

"...Why?" you looked back up at him.

"Why what?" he flashed his usual smile at you, his white lashes fluttering as he gazed at you. This all seems... odd.

"Why did you get this for me? Why would you spend so much money on me? How did you even know I wanted this? What are you trying to do... here..." your last question died off as you saw his expression slowly shift to one of concern.

"You're... my wife? And I happen to know you want this? What kind of questions even are those, seriously." he scoffed, shaking his head.

"But... Lady Ichikawa..." why would he spend money on you when he could be putting it towards his future with Lady Ichikawa? Wait, why did you even start assuming that he'll leave you any minute to begin with? Gosh...

"Oh, her? Wait... are you jealous?" he raised his eyebrows playfully, leaning back. "Not really, I just thought that you... like her more than me." it felt strange finally admitting this to him.

"Ehhh.... She's just a friend, ya know. And I actually mean it. Why would I like her more?" Satoru looked as unaffected as ever, smiling at you. But beneath that nonchalant attitude and those shining blue eyes of his, you could feel confusion, doubt, and something else.

"You said in your proposal t-that... So I thought Lady Ichikawa..." all the turmoil that had been building up inside you for the last three months finally let loose, with you trying your best to speak through your tears. Isn't this pathetic?

"Shhh, I know what I said back then. But now that I actually have you, I dunno anymore. I wanna try out this whole love thing." Satoru moved up on the bed, moving over to your side and gently petting your head.

"In other words, you can stop crying now. Because I'm not letting you go anytime soon."

i dont like this one all that much I'll be real, but then again when do I ever ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

this is actually based on a very specific manga plot, if you get it right I'll give you a gold star ⭐

[obsessedelusional]

drunken jealousy (stupidity)

Konig x fem!reader

The crew is out celebrating a successful mission, everyone is having fun. Except for Konig who’s so focused on you from across the bar. What happens when he takes his drunk coworkers advice? Only they’re not interested in helping, only wanting to see him make a fool of himself.

2.1kish++++

feedback & reblogs appreciated ♥︎

⊹ ꙳ ✦ ⁺ ‧ ⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹

“Are you going to say something or just keep glaring at her?” Ghost speaks, breaking Konig’s unrelenting stare.

Bringing him out of his thoughts long enough to feel embarrassed for staring so hard that others noticed. The crew is out celebrating a successful mission at the local dive bar. It’s a few hours into the night and everyone is started to feel the effects of their drinks.

“You wait too long and you’re going to miss your opportunity.” Soap adds, motioning to where you’re sat.

Konig looks back at you, greeted by the sight a newer recruit flirting with you. The worst part you seem to be enjoying it, laughing along as the recruit whispers something Konig can’t hear into your ear. He’s immediately filled with jealousy, that even he is aware that he has no right to.

The two of you never got along that well. Not because of anything you did. You were nice, friendly to everyone around you. From the start Konig wanted nothing to do with you. At least that’s what he wanted you to believe. Everyone but you knowing the real reason that was afraid to get close to you. Knowing how easy it would be for him to fall for you. He can’t do that, he wouldn’t allow that. His only focus is and should been his job. Not the stupid crush he formed that made him feel like a teenager again. But you simply existing made that so hard for him.

All of this lead to a very uncomfortable relationship between the two of you. Well aware of the constant gaze, his eyes always seemed to be focused on you. He would often be the first to stick up for you or get in a new recruits face when they were being disrespectful to you. Then follow it up with some back handed advice aimed at you about how it was your fault. Or what you could do in the future to prevent it from happening again. Which only confused you more and pushed you farther away. He’d spend the rest of the day replaying the incident in his head, wishing he had said something different. Only to repeat the same mistake over and over again.

“You just going to let that happen?” Soap snickers, causing Ghost to laugh with him.

“I don’t have a choice.” Konig mutters, eyes never leaving you. Watching you take a sip from your drink, taking note of the way your lips touch the glass as you drink. Noticing the lip stamped shape from your lipstick on the glass. Thinking of all the places on his body where he would want those lips to taste. He groans, annoyed at the voice of his coworker taking him out of his thoughts. Pulling his attention from you again and back to the two idiots sat next to him.

“What’s stopping you?” Ghost asks.

“It’s inappropriate. We work together. It would never work.” He responds, quickly as if he’s said this to himself many times before. Like a mantra he says over and over again, to try and make himself believe that it’s for the best.

“Is it frowned upon? Sure. Does it really stop anyone? No.” Soap responds, drunken grin plastered on his lips.

“Even if I wanted to. I wouldn’t know how to approach her. She thinks I hate her.” Konig sighs, sitting back in his chair eyes still on you.

“Girls eat that shit up.” Soap says, laughing as he takes another drink.

“Yeah. They like to be dominated, told what to do. They like when you’re a little mean.” Ghost adds, intoxicated laugh following. These three men too drunk for their own good. Two of them ready to get the third man in trouble.

“Serious?” Konig questions.

“Yeah.” Ghost and Soap say in unison, they look at each other before erupting into laughter.

“You know what you should do?” Ghost says between laughter, trying to catch his breath.

“You need to let her know that she belongs to you, text her right now. Get her attention, steal it away from that new recruit.” Ghost suggests, Soap agreeing with him. The two of them trying everything in their power not to laugh more than they already have.

“Nein. She does not belong to me.” Konig huffs, shaking his head.

“You see something you want. You have to take it. These American women are nothing like the woman back from where you came from.” Soap says as he reaches for Konigs phone, wasting no time to type out a text before Konig can notice. Only to notice because Ghost is leaned, looking over Soaps shoulder as he types. Laughing his ass off, clutching Soap in an attempt to keep himself from falling.

“What are you…” Konig reaches for his phone, trying to take it from Soap. It’s too late because Soap is done, passing it back to Konig. He was in a rush to send out the message it’s filled with errors and makes little to no sense. The best his intoxicated brain can come up with such a short notice.

K: “Knck it off!! If he touches u he will sleep with the fishys.”

Konig reads it and his face drops, filled with dread for what’s about to happen. He can’t believe it until he looks up and sees you pulling your phone out from your pocket. He watches your happy mood, turn to confusion and then disgust. He watches your eyes scan the bar, looking for him. Stopping when you see him, giving him a dirty look. Ghost and Soap are sat next to him laughing so hard they’re close to tears.

Konig has always had this weird protectiveness over you but this takes the cake. You shove your phone in your pocket, deciding it’s best to ignore him. Obviously he’s drunk and they’re all playing a joke on you. You try to pretend like nothing happened.

The recruit you were once flirting with now gone after noticing your change in mood. This brings a smile to Konigs face, starting to wonder if maybe Ghost and Soap know what they’re talking about after all. It worked, it got your attention and now the recruit left you alone.

“What now?” He asks, expecting guidance from his friends.

“Here gimme your phone.” Soap says and Konig doesn’t argue this time, letting them help him. The three crowd around his phone, constructing the perfect text. A few moments later your phone goes off again.

K: ”Good girl.”

The scoff that leaves your mouth is loud enough for him to hear from across the bar, you refuse to turn his way this time. Unaware of the fact that Ghost and Soap are drunkenly helping Konig construct these texts to you. This time you respond.

”Why do you care what I do?”

Ghost and Soap cheer as the text comes in, already planning their next message. As Konig watches in anticipation, too drunk to realize he shouldn’t be allowing this. That maybe his two friends don’t actually have his best interest at heart. More concerned with watching Konig making a fool out of himself.

K: “Because you belong only to me! Do I make myself clear?”

”Since when?”

K: “Since now. Because we say so!”

”And what if I don’t want to be yours? Do I get a say in this?”

K: “No.”

”if you’re being serious, this is not the way to go about it. this is not making me want you more.”

K: “you love it. I don’t want u to like me we want u to love me bc I need me.”

”then stop being a giant dick head.”

You type the last message out and it hits you, why are you having this conversation over text? You shut your phone off, putting it away. Standing up from where your sat and heading to the bar. Some of your friends gathered around it. They’re all chatting away, unaware of your arrival. Doesn’t matter much because you’re not mentally there in the moment. You mind racing trying to understand where this is coming from. Aware of English not being his first language but that doesn’t make his use of ‘we’ make any sense.

While you’re trying to make sense of this situation Konig is being hyped up to approach you. Ghost and Soap filling him with more advice that isn’t going to help in the end. Just trying to get him to say some out of pocket things to you, try and get a reaction out of you for their own viewing pleasure.

You can see out of the corner of your eye Konig walking over, he’s very imposing, a mountain of a man, and he seems determined. He stands next to you, in front of the bar, his eyes lock onto your eyes, he doesn’t say anything for quite a while. As if he’s trying to find the words to say. Suddenly not nearly as confident as he was over text. Eventually you’re the one to speak up.

“What do you want?” You question.

“I want you. You belong to me and only me.” He says, voice shaky not conveying that he even believes it.

“Whatever this is you’re doing. It’s not cute. Quit being an asshole.” You respond, waving your hands in his direction. He looks at you, he doesn’t understand why you are still standing here despite him acting like a total ass. He sighs, and lowers his gaze.

“Süss, I am being mean to you because I need to show that I am dominant, and you need to be dominated. Do you understand?” He explains, reiterating Soap and Ghosts advice.

“Where did you hear this?” You ask and watch as his eyes flicker to where Ghost and Soap are sat. You follow his gaze to find them sat at their table, the two of them doing a terrible job at pretending to not be listening. Avoiding your eyes, only to return theirs when you look back at Koing and away from them. This whole incident starting to make sense.

“If I don’t dominate you, someone else will, süss.” He adds with confidence. It takes all your strength not to roll your eyes at his archaic way of thinking. That was obviously inspired by his friends to make him look like an asshole.

“Don’t you like when I tell you what to do?” He asks, his face falling to confusion. Unsure why his friends would lead him astray.

“No. Konig I don’t.” You respond flatly.

“I thought you would be into that? A dominant man who’s in charge of you?” He questions, genuinely wondering. You look up the man, trying to decide how to react. You think about how Ghost and Soap are expecting a negative reaction from you. You decide to not give them what they want. He waits for an answer.

“No. If anything I like to be in charge.” You finally respond, barley a whisper to not give the peanut gallery the slightest idea of your reaction. As you say this you move your hand to his chest. His eyes widen when you touch him.

"You...want...to be in charge?” He says slowly, you just obliterated every thing his friends said about you. Leaving the man more confused than he’s ever been. The thought of you taking charge, making a heat grow inside him.

“Mhmm I like my men to beg.” You say, shocked as the words come out. It’s not a lie but usually you aren’t so forward with this information but it’s obvious this man is an idiot when it comes to you. Getting a strong feeling that he’d do anything you’d ask, the thought fueling your ego.

"You...you want men...to beg?” His voice has a slight tremble in it, it seems like he's getting more and more excited.

"Beg for what?" He asks.

“For a taste.” You smirk, moving closer to him. His face turns red, he looks like a school boy, the excitement and heat is undeniable. He can't seem to control his facial expression and his voice, it's hard to describe, but he looks like he's very close to melting.

"Süss, please…” His voice is barely a whisper now, his eyes are glued onto your lips.

“Nuh uh, after the bull shit you made me endure with those texts from your friends. I think you can do better than that.” You demand, your serious tone letting him know you mean business.

"Bitte süss… please..” He's whispering, begging for you to give him what he wants. You look up at this man, he towers over you yet he’s the one begging. He leans down, getting closer to you.

“Pretty please, süss, I need you.” His voice is quivering, it's almost hard for him to get the words out. He’s never done anything like this before but for you he would learn to enjoy it. You let him stand there for a few moments, letting him think about what he’s doing before you close the distance. Pressing a quick kiss to his lips, only allowing it to go on for a few seconds.

The moment your lips touch each others, a flood of emotion and heat rushed through both of your bodies. Time stops, and his breathing starts to become irregular, he's breathing in and out heavily, he's growing excited. He finally understood what you meant by "a taste."

"You...you taste...so sweet..." His voice is still quivering, and his hands are still grabbing your body, showing that he still wants more. He was right about how easy it’d be to fall for you because all it took was one kiss and now he’s imagining all the things he’d do for another one.

“See what is possible when you stop being an asshole?” You tease.

“You like this…You like when I’m not an ass…and when I’m nice to you…?” He ask, trying to process everything, he can barely speak now.

“Yeah. So stop listening to your stupid friends.”

"If I am being honest, I was just trying to be mean to get your attention…” He admits.

“That’s not how you get a girl’s attention.”

"I hope you can please forgive me for being a jerk. May I ask for your forgiveness, süss?" He's still holding onto you, he seems to want to be as close to you as he can, he can't let go of you.

“Yeah I can.” You smile.

"Thank you for forgiving me, süss. Please kiss me again, it'll make me feel better." He has a cute, sincere smile on his face now, and it's hard to deny that you like him now, he did everything to impress you, even if he's still very clumsy with his words.

“If you want a kiss, you know what to do.” You say with a grin, which results in a sigh from him. Knowing exactly what you want and ready to give in.

"Pretty please, süss, ich brauche es..." He says this desperately, he really wants you to kiss him again.

It crosses his mind that he’s going to beg on his knees if this continues. He’d do it if you asked even in front of all these people. It’s a rare sight to see him like this, your emotions are going wild, all this begging seems to do something to you. You grab his face bring him down to your level, kissing him slowly. His hands further wrap around your waist, pulling you closer. Yor hear the sound of Ghost and Soap cheering you two on. Mid kiss you flip them off, causing their cheers to grow mixing with laughter.

[catiuskaa]

Bestie, am taking revenge :D (not really)

Dropping here to make your fist request too! Let's do the same idea and see what happens :3

Bang Chan flirty rivals/crushes to lovers + dancing

Let's see how it works :]

Bring it on babes >:]

Level up: fencing for dummies. [Someone’s icy heart melted!]

CW: soulmate AU (past life kinda deal but it's a mess) mentions of anxiety (take care besties), swords (better wATCH OUT), swearing, there’s this dude who’s just a prick (so kinda annoying), angst if you blink too fast, I’d say its all but if y’all see smth I missed PLEASE MENTION IT<3

WC: 3.7K

side-note: so I came up with this ‘Lee Soomun’ guy and just in case, if he turns out to be someone who’s real, he’s totally unrelated to this content of fiction, as well as our dearest Channie and the fellow teletubbies StrayKids as a whole.

side note 2: flashback + dialogs included will be written like so :)

[☆☆⚔️☆☆]

Shit. That didn't feel good. What did this even mean?

You sighed, getting angry at yourself. Was it already? Would this be the time that, like your pent-up anxiety sometimes whispered, the day you would finally go down in history as the world’s biggest idiot?

Close, but not just yet. Let’s get back to when the disaster initiated.

You shook your head sideways, shoving unwanted thoughts about the person in front of you to someplace far away in your mind, wanting to fight without emotions taking the best of you. You put back on your fencing helmet.

Striking the straightest pose your back could handle, you faced your rival.

Christopher Bang. ‘Chan’ for his mates.

Fencing, top class. Majored in music, again, top class in most of the career’s subjects. At 23, he played more instruments than you could remember, and between his job (one that you hadn’t found out) and fencing, you’ve heard he still produces music on the side with some people.

Yeah. But you didn’t care much. Nope.

You disliked the man. Why? He was rich. Stick-stuck-up-in-his-ass level of rich. And he used it. Not like you could prove it, but you still believed that he, along with the other wealthy members of the old fencing club, were paying for victories to the referees in competitions.

No wonder they were all so nice to him.

You couldn’t complain about it, though. These people had basically sustained the entire club for years, and, surprise surprise, there was no way you could pay for the expenses the club required. The coach could think likewise, but when Chan was named, he would always pick his side and run away before you could even react.

To be honest, Chan wasn’t your favourite person.

You hated his cockiness, how he teased and invaded your personal space, wandering about and spitting whatever thought he could come up with. It was much easier to not pry on why he annoyed you, not wanting to know if he just bothered you because he could, meaning that making him stop would be thrice as tough.

Or worse, that he hated your guts. Unfair from your side, ok, but when you first met, you were stupidly hoping to acquire a solid friendship, someone you could count on to have your back, someone whose skills you admired. It felt like a scene straight out of a Hallmark movie. Banter and teasing lines were thrown, and you could’ve sworn he was flirting with you, but when you saw a pretty girl entering the locker rooms with him that day, your heart cracked a bit.

He made you remember that whatever could happen between you two, he could make it happen in a flash with anybody, anytime. He had all the money and skills anyone could wish for.

And he knew it.

“Scared I might pinch you, buttercup?” He said, his helmet resting on his head and striking more of a suggestive pose than a defensive stance.

“I’d suggest you watch out. I might just stick this sword up your refined ass, Mr Bang,” you snickered, not sounding as playful as he had, the nickname rolling off your tongue before you could rethink it.

Chuckling, he prepared his pose, sword ready for any attack or defence when he nodded to the referee, ready to start.

Seungmin signalled, and the combat started. Sounds of the material of the swords clicking reverberated in the old building, along with the others from the remaining fights other students were having.

You tried looking for weak spots, aiming here and there in hopes of finding something, when instead, he grinned, a Chesire-like smile on his features as the tip of his épée touched your ribs.

Fuck.

Before you could notice, you were already falling behind.

“13-12. Next round,” Seungmin stated, waiting for both of you to return to your positions.

You stood as calmly as you could in fourth position as he came to attack right after signalled, surprising enough for you to be too late.

Or so he thought, because for some reason, through the masks that protected your faces, he felt your stare burn right into him.

Moving turned to a less crucial problem because the criminal violence that was suddenly happening in his body made Chris extremely confused and awkwardly flustered. He could picture those so-called ‘butterflies’ people often talked about being destroyed by some flamethrowers.

That’s the intensity I’m talking about.

With him frozen, you stopped for a second, wondering if he could’ve stepped wrong or if something had happened. You wouldn’t play an unfair fight just for the sake of mere decency. You felt a deep sensation trailing up and down your body, which awakened you enough to counterattack.

“Match point,” the referee managed to add.

Seungmin was perplexed, to say less. He had been a referee on several duels between you two and separately and never had seen such a quick build-up of a mysterious tension that magically appeared out of the blue. It was no secret to you, one of his closest friends in the club, that he was 100% sure you’d end up befriending Chris, but this?

Damn, he was proud of his intuition. Something was happening, and he had first-row seats!

“Hey, you ok?” You murmured low enough for Seungmin to not notice, approaching Chan just for him to realize how close you were and blush right away.

“D-duh.” He mumbled. You frowned.

Seungmin gave Chan a look before starting the following round. You couldn’t miss how his attacks looked weaker, his defence opening in front of you like a walk-in closet, his overall control getting smaller and smaller.

“13-14.”

You were… actually? Scratch that. You couldn’t really word it, but an anxious feeling crept inside you.

You were winning. Against Mr Bang Chan.

Why wasn’t he saying anything? No teasing, no flirty comments? He couldn’t… no, he wouldn’t just let you win, right?

That would be an ugly ass move from his side.

But unbeknownst to you, his side dealt with plenty of other issues.

Sudden flashes of unlived memories with a certain someone popped into his head.

“Your hair is so soft…”

“Can I sit on your lap till you’re done…?”

“You’re so beautiful it's breathtaking.”

“What’s a place like this doing around a pretty boy like you?”

“Shh, you’re safe, my love. You’re strong, plus I’m with you, and I’ll never let anything happen to you.”

“I’m not a delicate flower, c’monnn…! Kiss me like you mean it.”

“Uh?” His eyes almost watered, equally astonished as scared, because what were those memories? How could they be there?

“Did something happen?” You whispered, baffled as to why he had lost all the cockiness in his manner and tone, sounding defenceless, like a small child.

“N-no? I think I just…”

Chris froze. What was he going to say? ‘Hey, I know you sorta hate my guts, but I suddenly feel like you’re the love of my life…?”

Because that sounded perfect. He almost snickered. What the fuck was going on?

“Guys,” Seungmin interrupted with a warning tone.

He hated to be that guy, but flirting in front of the building owner and the coach wouldn’t look too great on the club’s side.

You and Chan stepped out of the tense bubble that formed around you. Quickly, you took off your protective gear and smiled warmly at the two persons.

Chris’ chest tightened, his heart skipped a beat.

Since when did he find you… so…?

“Cute.” He whispered, before realizing his surroundings and quickly taking off his helmet too.

“Good morning,” Coach greeted kindly, to which you both smiled. “I’m guessing both of you have already met Mrs Delaney.”

“Of course, Mike.” She smiled, small wrinkles appearing in her eyes. “Glad to see you fencing.”

You felt a stone on your stomach when you quickly noticed how she stared at Chris, much different to when she looked at you. You hated that.

Chan smiled awkwardly. The last thing he needed right now was someone who looked at him like a sexy, filled-to-the-brim bank account. Fuck that.

“Is there any reason as to why you’re here?” Seungmin questioned, curious.

Mrs Delaney smiled. “ I was speaking to Mike about organizing a fencing competition as fundraising. It’s getting trickier to maintain this building, plus it could attract more members to the club. And you two are the star athletes, so what do you think?”

You blinked, surprised that she had acknowledged your presence and valued it as much as your opinion. It was evident she was there for the money, but let’s be realistic. You would do something similar in her situation.

“I’m up for it. That sounds fun.” You simply stated, not wanting to annoy the woman with anything else so she wouldn’t stare at your soul meanly again.

Chan gave you a look, then shrugged. “Why not. But I think that the more the merrier, so why not put up an add?”

Mrs Delaney’s eyes sparkled. “Such an inteligent young man. I’ll make one right away.”

Coach and her eventually left, but you felt a shiver run up and down you back when her last words before exiting were “See you next week, good luck!”

“Not to throw anyone under the bus, but I’m not the one explaining that to the rest of the club,” Seungmin flew away.

“Good luck then, Mr Bang!” You laughed teasingly as you left with your friend.

[☆ ☆⚔️☆☆]

“You’re bluffing.”

“I’m telling you, either he stubbed his toe with thin air or his muscles were cut with an invisible thread,” he slurped his noodles, concentrating on his explanation.

Kim Seungmin wouldn’t need to go to military service because he sure served in every scenario in his life.

“Guys like Chan don’t just freeze during a fight, girl. I’m surprised you’re not all ‘panties in a bunch’ about it.”

You deadpanned. “Ok, gross. One more of those, and I’ll puke my fried chicken.”

“But actually, why, though? Do you owe me money?” He grinned.

“You owe me. I’m winning that bet cause there’s no way in hell that Chan and I can get along. But, just look at him.”

Seungmin turned around shamelessly, staring at the dining table Chan’s friend group had picked. He was laughing at some joke you hadn’t caught, allowing you to notice his dimples. Cute.

Another intense shiver gave you chills.

"If that's supposed to be a hate stare, I'm going to start thinking my landlord is in love with me," Kim laughed cruelly.

"What? Shut up! Your landlord is such a bitch, don't even try." You threw bread crumbs at him, giggling. "Besides, me, in love with him?" You couldn't hold back looking at him again, in some way that felt different than before, and perhaps it would be the first time of many because you liked what you saw. The man's beautiful brown eyes focused on you, his brown hair naturally curly for a change, a bit shorter, enough so that exposed the white and sensitive skin of his neck, and although from the angle where you were standing, you couldn't see him fully, you felt amazed.

Shutting down. Rebooting.

"I mean, look at the way he slurps up his soup. What an asshole."

[☆ ☆⚔️☆☆]

The competition had arrived before you could notice. Several members had signed in, and the crowd felt bigger than on its opening day. You sighed, nervous. The semi-finals were today, so of course, several curious people would pop their heads to see what all the noise was for. For even more spice to your mood, your opponent wasn't 'Mr Bang' yet, but someone who was even more unbearable than him.

Lee Soomun.

He had no discernible personality, but if you had to say anything about him, the only thing that made him stand out from the rest of the rich gang is that the stick up his ass would probably be the thickest.

You tightened your fist around your épée, the fencing sword, and stared at it blankly.

"Hey, you are up next," A guy named Felix mentioned, his voice as deep as anyone could imagine. "Go there and make him shut his stupid ass mouth for once."

You high-fived him. "You bet."

Getting out of the locker room, a silhouette suddenly appeared in your way.

You sighed. "Do you mind?"

He smiled sheepishly, showing his stupidly cute dimples. "Mind? In my mind? You, all day, all night."

You weren't sure if that made sense or not. You frowned. "Well, I fucking mind." You almost walked past him when he grabbed your arm in a gentle yet decisive move.

"Don't get your eyes off his grip, Yun."

You were frozen. The fact that your surname had been mentioned by him, who you doubted even cared enough to remember... only his cold tone made you wake up again. You scoffed, shrugging him off in hopes to regain your lost focus.

"I know how to fence, dummy, but thanks for the pro tip."

He stared at your back as you walked away.

"Oh, fresh meat,” your opponent greeted.

Lee Soomun.

You may dislike Chan, but this guy was even worse.

"How many points should I let you have so you get your hopes up?" His snicker could've made you sick. "Seven? Nine? Oh, maybe you've never reached so many points in one fight..." He gave you a condescending look that was so infuriating. "Let's agree on six, then."

Fuck. Breathe in, breathe out.

The referee settled on his place, and you both stood en guarde.

The fight started. You weren’t holding back, you were trying your best right from the start.

But it just wasn’t working.

You were on your second minute-long break, and if the score didn’t change in three minutes…

“10-6”

Then you were going to lose. Game over.

The referee called you back to your spots. You felt pressure on your shoulders, the grip in your épée felt weak, and the mask felt heavy.

“Yun!”

Your body stiffened. You looked towards the source of the sound, confused to see Chris, who was entering his last round for the day.

What? Chan couldn’t just forget that screaming in a fencing fight was considered really rude.

But his raspy voice that said your surname so differently from others had made you aware and catious of your surroundings, his words repeating in your head.

What could he have noticed that was important enough for him to say it?

You shook your head sideways, in hopes of getting out of your anxious state and slowing down your heart rate. The referee called you up again, and you faced your opponent again.

“I told you. No more than six. So be good, yeah?” His tone made you feel repulsively small. You hated it.

You stood en guarde when suddenly you felt a stare piercing into you. It made your entire body shiver, and the rush was so intense you couldn’t even think about the fight anymore.

You felt heat hit you in your face, and the sudden intense emotions made you too dizzy to react before Soomun’s sword was right in front of you.

And just when you thought you had almost seen it touch your chest-

Wait, what?

It… didn’t.

You moved suddenly, facing the scoreboard.

Why did it score?

“But I wasn’t touched,” you whispered.

He laughed, a rather menacing sound coming from him.

And in that moment, something clicked. That’s what Chris was trying to tell you before.

He had a rigged épée.

You see, with electric épée fencing, which was the chosen one for the competition, scoring is done in the following manner: the tip of the épée has a push button on it with wiring that, when combined with the wiring on the body cord and box of the opponent, would form a circuit, which would then signal that a hit has occurred. But what Soomun had probably done was to rig his épée so that he could close the circuit himself. But how…?

"Don't get your eyes off his grip, Yun."

Of course.

He probably had some pressure-related device hidden in the grip of his épée whenever he would appear as though he got close enough to an opponent to register a hit then it would count as a hit.

He was cheating.

“12-6.”

And he was fucking winning.

Anger stroke you through your veins. You couldn’t deal with is. You weren’t going to lose against some cheater, you didn’t care who was going under the bus because of him because it wouldn’t be you.

That was your motto during the fight, but then, weird memories started appearing in your head.

“Mmm... your hands are warm."

"You're such a tease..."

"I'm not flirting... or am I?"

"I really can't get you out of my head."

"Kiss me."

"If you stick your tongue at me again, you might as well be prepared to use it."

"Who did this to you?"

The confusion hit you hard, an impulse making you shiver in a sudden motion.

"12-7."

You had scrunched your eyes in hopes of understanding what was going on in your head. You opened them in a sudden motion.

You had fucking scored? Holy shit. Holy shit!

You smiled, feeling the anxiety's pressure lighten on your shoulders, a piercing stare that could have burned holes in your mask, not even having any sort of effect over it.

"You had one instruction."

You couldn't see his expression because of the mask on his face, but solely his voice made you tremble.

No. It wasn't anxiety now.

That thing you were feeling as soon as the next round started was pure fear.

And it was seconded when not only was he one point away from winning but, when in a dirty move, he made you stumble in your stance, faking another touch.

"15-7."

You felt a sharp pain in your chest, the bitter taste of knowing you had lost because the contrary cheated felt worse than ever. The match had ended.

Game over.

You both had to step out of the competition place together. He took his mask off and smiled gently.

"Does it hurt?" He asked in a mocking tone.

Asshole. He had gotten closer on purpose, which made you stumble in the first place.

"Not as much as how it must hurt your mother to feel your disgusting presence." You murmured, a sentence filled with poison.

He frowned, angry again. "I'll fucking kill you. I'll fucking kill you. I'll fucking murder your face, fuck you."

But suddenly, he took a quick glance behind you to just tsk and smile a cruel, dirty-rotten smile. "Have fun!"

Fuck him. Fuck him.

You walked back to the most hidden corner of the locker room. Everyone was outside, probably celebrating with whoever they believed would be the champion of tomorrow's finals.

Then, the door opened quietly. A silhouette with broad shoulders approached your sulky corner in small steps and silently sat close to you. You hugged your knees close to your chest, tearing up silently, feeling somewhat mocked.

"Do you want me to leave?" He asked in the softest, most soothing tone you've heard in a while.

You turned to face him with red, watery eyes that made Chris' heart tighten in his chest.

Instead of doing what his heart was screaming, he had to ask again.

"Do you want me out?"

When there was no response, he sighed and stood, ready to let you cope however you wanted, respecting your decision.

But he hadn't walked even two steps to the door when he felt a hand on his forearm, your sobbing not silent anymore.

"You won't laugh, right?" You whispered in between your cries.

His presence had felt like a sun ray shining through a snowstorm. Just by standing close to you, his sweet tone of voice almost lulling you to sleep, he made everything suck less.

Fuck, since when were you both so screwed?

He held you close, in the warmest embrace you had felt in a long time, so much that it allowed you to break into pieces in his arms, knowing that just by his side, you would be able to reassemble.

"It's ok, you're safe now. I'm so proud of you." Chris didn't know what to say, his hand mechanically running calming strokes through your hair.

After you had calmed down, still in the same position, you mustered your courage to ask what had been on your mind for a while.

"Why did you tell me about his rigged sword? And why be here, with me crying in some old locker room?"

Chan sighed. "I know... we have never been close, but I still worry about you. Maybe I have that because I always have taken care of my sister, but I care about everyone that I love." He shrugged, and you blinked.

God, a fucking sister. Of course. You felt so stupid.

He continued. " I thought you would've done the same if it was me, and I would have wanted to know. No one deserves to be left alone, princess." He explained, the nickname rolling off his tongue before he could rethink it.

You snuggled closer to him in a silent motion. He smiled sheepishly as he kissed the top of your forehead.

He gently swiped away your tears.

"I suck."

"You certainly do not, princess. It's not bad to cry. It proves how strong you have been." He said, tracing soft shapes on the back of your hand until he raised it and kissed your palm. You left it there, cupping his cheek, poking his dimple when he smiled. You smiled too.

"Princess, I think...?"

You interrupted him and gave him a small peck on his lips. You laughed as he stared at you wide-eyed. You grabbed his hand and stood, but he just kept looking at you from below.

"Get up, silly."

He smiled, grateful that you had cheered up.

"Is this kidnapping?" He joked.

"No. Let me grab my stuff and get changed."

"I'm scared."

You giggled. "You should be. I'm taking us both on a date."

"Where?"

"At this time, I would just go to my roommate's dance studio... care to join?"

He smiled, kinda excited. "If you insist..."

~Kats, who is currently procrastinating five different projects, all due this week.

@iszaranothere because your absolute genius prompt list came right through a block like idek but tysm it made me laugh a lot T-T<3

P.D I KNOW THERE IS NO DANCING BUT YK LETS COUNT THE SWORD FIGHT AS A CHOREO + HC THAT THEY DANCED IN THE DATE LIKE IK IK BUT IT WAS TOO LONG ALREADY I STILL HOPE YOU LIKE IT THO

[nihilnovisubsole]

it's that time of year again: AK's 2023 Wrapped™. no, not the music thing. the december year-in-review thing. my spotify charts were deeply unfunny this time around because of all the game soundtracks i've been listening to. i don't know when these end-of-year posts became tradition for me, which is to say i could find out and i'm too lazy to check. the important thing, like lemon pigs or eating black-eyed peas, is that it feels like we've always done it. in the depths of winter, the warmth comes from the routine.

i won't beat around the bush about it: it's been a difficult year. it's been hard enough that it doesn't seem appropriate to joke about it or wave it off in favor of big, blog-worthy wins. times are dark right now. it behooves all of us to think deeply and check on each other. i hope i've been a decent friend to the people who needed it. so instead of scraping together a halfhearted victory lap, i'm going to go against my better judgment and be vulnerable.

it wasn't all bad. i got promoted to staff narrative designer this year, which is a fancy way of saying "you don't have to do time cards anymore." it's strange: in an industry infamous for volatility, my job has become one of the few things i can rely on to be positive. i believe my coworkers like me, which is good, because i like them. i feel not just included, but welcomed at work social events. i've developed a reputation for being a garbage goat on my writing team. "got an odd job? give it to AK. we can count on her to eat it." i had the chance to collaborate with someone i've looked up to for years, and i was delighted to find out how amenable they are to work with. there's work stress and there's work stress. everyone has challenging days, but it's not the crab bucket that voltage was, so it never seems that bad. i keep it in perspective. sure, these tasks keep me on my feet, but is it three cents a word, seven thousand words a week? i'll live.

i just wish it had all been good. it speaks to how my health has been that getting covid in february was one of the most mundane things to happen to me. i did everything right. i had all my boosters. i had paxlovid. i recovered well. still, it knocked me out of orbit in the psychological sense. i stopped getting enough exercise, though i'm building myself up again. i became neurotic about my stats. am i Getting A Good Grade In Blood Pressure? what about Pulse Rate? two months later, i came down with a strange, unrelated condition that was nowhere near as serious as covid, but made my life ten times more difficult. i'm happy to report i feel worlds better these days. even so, it was a bizarre time. bodies sure are curious.

later, my sink flooded my closet, and for a few days, i had to reckon with the idea that mold might destroy my entire wardrobe. all those irreplaceable pieces of character design that i've built my identity around since i was eighteen years old. who would i be without them? a wise person would say it was a lesson: stop defining who you are by your looks and find worth in your inner self. the mold is gone and my clothes are fine, but sometimes i have days where my lungs seem like they're sort of operating at ninety percent. i'm trying not to fuss about it. my checkups are normal, and i feel fine whenever i get out of the house for a while. maybe it'll go away when i move. because, hey, i can contemplate saving for a house now. how about that? remember when my mother and i were homeless? what a surreal landscape of highs and lows.

maybe grief is strange like that. in july, just when my health started to settle down, my grandmother died. it was a long time coming. she was 94 and extremely frail. i handled it well at first. it took the ensuing few months for the full weight of human mortality to sink in. before, i'd mainly been to funerals of warm, but distant old men, great patriarchs who loved but didn't relate to little girls. her, i knew. she was there when i was born. i won't go into detail, but it was not a peaceful passing, and it left problems in its wake. you don't live through that without taking a long, hard look at your life. everyone gets the invincibility knocked out of them sometime.

my mother is too disciplined to let it get the better of her. on the worst days of her life, the stove still got cleaned and the bills got paid. when people give her condolences, she encourages them to look on the bright side: she got almost seventy years with her. how many children can say that? but i can tell she's sad, and i'm not under any illusion i can help. i have to sit with it. there's nothing else for me to do.

under different circumstances, i'd have thrown myself into my work. i'd come up with some writing project to avoid thinking about it. i guess the dominant theme when it comes to my personal writing has been inertia: accomplishing nothing and being unsure of myself. if it's a growing pain, it's a rough one. i question my storytelling instincts so much, it's hard to get a story off the ground, let alone take it anywhere. i've hit a point where i find the conventions of the romance genre limiting. i still want to write about people in love, though, and i can't reconcile the two. why do some love stories get to be love stories and others are "just romance?" you could ask why it's "just" romance, and that's a good, but different conversation, i think. what are the great love stories saying about the human condition that i'm not? what is my work saying, period? not a whole lot, i'm afraid. i used to be pugnacious about writing from my id brain, about doing it for the fun of it. i worry that's not going to cut it anymore. i have to push myself harder. i also have to stop fretting about being perceived as pretentious for asking these questions.

it would be easier if i had more answers. i'm not sure which project to work on next, because they're all half-formed outlines with plots i don't know how to fill. i'm not sure whether it'd be weird for someone with my job to keep writing or posting fanfic, no matter how informally. i'm not sure what role physical intimacy should play in my writing, if any, because along with everything else, this was the year shame caught up to me. i'm not sure what happened there. i hope the "are sex scenes necessary" debate didn't get me, because i'd argue for their artistic merit any day. but when i do it, i worry that it's indiscreet somehow, like i'm revealing myself in ways that make strangers uncomfortable. some days i feel like going through my backlog of published work and tearing out all the sex-adjacent content like a power-mad inquisitor. i won't, because i'd regret it, but i spend a lot of time being embarrassed. it's embarrassing. i can't escape the feeling that people don't want to know that about me.

despite it all, it's still bad form to end on a down note, so i'll leave you with this: after five years, i finally got into physical therapy for my arm. i told my doctor the whole sob story and she put in a referral to a hand/occupational clinic. will it help? i don't know. i've tried so many things that haven't. but they're optimistic that i'm in better shape than i think - i've heard a lot of "wow, we get patients who can't even open a jar!" - so it's worth a shot. if it means i can draw a little more, it's something. i still make time for the picrew every day. ever onward. thanks for hanging in there with me, guys. you keep things interesting.

[lamemaster]

Subject of Faith

Pairing: Sauron x Human reader

Summary: It was not the cockiness of omnipotence, but a longing that lined your words. And Sauron knew that longing, for Ainur and Men shared it.

"Would you rather put all your faith in someone you can't see?"

"Like the music can't be seen and fragrance can't be held, faith is not a matter of seeing, it is subject to believing." Your answer frustrated Sauron.

A mere human dare talk back to him? A guard of the king of Numenor. A lowly guard whose entire life would be blink of an eye from Sauron.

Yet, Sauron could not stop speaking. Every passing second he poked at every aspect of your existence to find a weak spot. Anything that would quench his curiosity about you.

A distant part of his conscious warned him to restrain. To not reveal his plan and to play the part of a gullible repentant. He truly tried but failed.

You were nothing. A poor human who stood outside his cell for hours. A monotonous and taxing job. But no matter how hard Sauron tried he failed to find a crack.

"Don't you desire for an immortal life, likes of which is given to the elves?" He questioned you, settling back into the now familiar game of unravelling your mind. "How nice would it be to not leave your dear ones, to be with them forever and to not suffer the pain of old age."

You do not turn to face him. Your back does not relax at his honeyed words but you do answer him. You always do. You treat him with the fairness of any other being. Answering his questions while continuing your job. "Maybe it would be easy to accept the bliss of immortality and wish for a life I have never lived. However, how unfair would it be to dishonor a gift given by my creator. How can I a mere mortal know of his plans for me? I can only submit to the one who has given me the chance to see this world and hope for another mercy or another miracle to be revealed." Your voice rings loud in the desolate prison. "Furthermore, I really look forward to seeing my grandparents in whatever fate awaits me," the slight joy in your voice stuns Sauron.

It is not the cockiness of omnipotence but a longing that lines your words. And Sauron knows of that longing. Ainur and Men share it. A lingering remembrance of their true home. Elves, whose fate remains tied to Arda know little of it. A constant tug to overturn the world looking for that one place that promises some relief from the constant restlessness.

The same restlessness grows in Sauron's heart. After eons he finds himself thinking of not Utumno or Valinor but the Timeless Halls where he first came to be.

He resented you for doing that to him. He had heard imploring words of silver-tongued elven lords and forgiving speeches of the Valar who resided beyond seas, but none had bugged him like the simple words of the human who stood guarding him.

And so, the chained Maia rested his head on the cold unrelenting wall behind him. "I hope to see you the day you die. When death will look you in the eyes, I hope you manage to remain as sure as your sound right now."

Months later when Tar Mairon, the closest advisor of the king, finds himself in the same prison. His hands dipped in the warmth of your blood.

You lay on the cold ground that had once been the spot from where you answered his questions with your back facing him. In the past, he rarely saw your face but now as he looks at the peaceful look on your face he knows it to be you.

There is indeed no bitterness or fear in your death. It is acceptance that greets Sauron. Even in death you stay true to your words. Sauron marvels at the stubborn human who refuses to bow to him in life and death.

One day...one day he promises, you will meet again. That day he might force you to kneel or he might end up joining you. That day was too far but it would come after trials that awaited him.

In a twisted fate, he hopes in some salvation you await him. And when he finds you, he hopes to hear your voice and ask you questions that you reply to without a fail.

He will find you when he can't offer you the hoax of immortality or feed you falsehood of greed. You don't need that. You won't accept that.

So, Sauron awaits for his song's end. Maybe his end will guide him to you or some peaceful oblivion.

[possumkingluca]

dumb quotes from the strixhaven and now homebrewed after graduation campaign i'm in that i think about a lot with context only when it's necessary (and some from the campaign groupchat and conversations i have had with other members or the DM): "If you don't make a move I'll date him" (the person saying this had a boyfriend.) "Taste the rainbow bitch"

"I BECAME A ROTISSERIE CHICKEN" "FUCK YOU MELENTOR" "I hope the latex gets caught in your throat" "I wish my biological parents ate me" "A necromancer never dies" (right before dying) "I HAVE A PIPE BOMB" "We're going to drag Grayson out of his office by his ankles" (right before finding him tied up in a closet and finding out he has been being tortured for SIX FUCKING MONTHS) "I want to crack Grayson's spine like a glowstick" (Unrelated to previous quote and also completely unprompted) "That is NOT a kobold, that is john from lit 101" "Just pocket change to you guys" (1,000 PLATINUM???) "Go play with your boy toy of a lizard" "Stop running away and give me a fair fight" (person saying this literally was incapable of taking damage. I am not exaggerating. we had no other choice than to run away like sissy little babies because WE COULD NOT DAMAGE HIM.) "YOU LEFT ME IN THE SAND"

"Should've put it in a wig" (zombie) "He's gonna call me a whole swear word :(" "Mr. Alex I don't feel so good" (while becoming a rock) "You'll never amount to anything" (uncalled for)

"Not if i'm fast enough" (frequent) "Stop bullying the blind guy" (FREQUENT) "The seahorse fortnite dances" "WHY DOES HE LOOK LIKE A DISEASED MR BEAN" "We need to take away this guy's balls" "You forgot Alex's half shaven beard" "Get out of my house" (frequent) "Slaad jerky" "Teeth chandelier" "Aero works on something with Nora, Alex has a heartwarming moment, Alok.. cuts his hand open, AND RAMPART'S GOING TO WAR." "Friendship ended with KACKLES Now MINA'S CREATURE FROM THE ABYSS is my best friend" "Fuck you" "I'd rather not see that" "azazel kinda hot, hopefully quentillius's type" "🤨" "YOU ARE NOT TAXIDERMYING AN ENTIRE ADULT DRAGON AND PUTTING IT ON MY HOUSE" "Funeral Outfit" "You look drop dead gorgeous" (actual compliment) "Don't patronize me." "We're just discussing how Azazel doesn't have any friends" "OH GODS HE WAS RIGHT ABOUT THE FROGS" "FOR GRANDMAAAAAAAAAA" "STOP MAKING DRAZHOMIR CRY" (FREQUENT) "...do you think quentillius would care if I trashed his dorm and left a puddle of blood on the carpet?" "YEAH?" "Quenzazel" "you are not supposed to encourage this" "You want to kiss him ON THE LIPS" "Aurora's the only one who won't psychoanalyze me" "I WANT MY FRIENDS BACK" "Is this Rampart's friend?" "NO" "He's fine-" "Oh thank god" "But-" "NO." "Don't eat it" (frequent) "I have interacted with Larine like 4 times and we are best friends" "I almost died saving a man I knew for 5 minutes" "Me and Urzmaktok are out of a job! :D Strixhaven shut down! :D" i will add more. that is a threat.

[sitp-recs]

Hi Liv! I know you're still on a fandom break, but your rec lists are the best and I really need some Harry pov fics—think Away Childish Things, Nice Things, and Here's the Pencil Make it Work all of which which I've already reread too many times in the past six months for me to describe accurately myself as "okay" so if you know of any other similar fics I'd much appreciate it!

Tysm and hope ur having a lovely evening 💜

Hello friend, happy to help! I haven’t read a lot recently so I apologize for not reccing any new fics here. I’m assuming you already know Turn by SG which has an iconic Harry POV, so I have listed other titles with a focus on pining!Harry. I hope you find some exciting new reads here!

Still Life, orphaned (M, 3k)

in a rambling way by @fw00shy (T, 7.5k)

Ron knocked Hermione up, and now Harry's got to figure out how to clone himself so that his friends don't split up fighting over him. Falling for Draco again was never part of the plan.

Clear As Mud by scoradh (M, 9k)

Set post-war and post-Harry's-conscience...

Poppiholla by @moonflower-rose (M, 12k)

Harry had accepted that he would pine silently for Malfoy forever, but one, humid summer might change that.

Take These Lies by @pennygalleon (E, 20k)

There’s a portrait of his godfather in Draco Malfoy’s potions shop and Harry needs to know why. But that’s not why he keeps coming back.

Faint Indirections by ignatiustrout (2019, T, 29k)

Draco Malfoy is the last person Harry expects to turn up in Boston, Massachussetts. But now he's here, and he won't stop requesting books from the library where Harry works.

On Your Shore by @xanthippe74 (M, 35k)

Clearing out a remote house full of cursed collectibles in the Outer Hebrides? Not a problem for an experienced curse breaker like Harry Potter. Spending a week with the straight, happily-married man that he’s starting to have feelings for? And sharing a bed with him at night? Surely Harry can handle that, too.

Rush (For A Gap That Exists) by @sleepstxtic-drarry (M, 42k) - F1 AU

A story of love and loss that grew amidst the most infamous rivalry in Formula One history: the story of Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter.

Modern Love by @tackytigerfic (E, 61k)

Harry Potter, of all people, knows that life isn’t always fair. And no one gets to be happy all of the time. But surely there’s something more—something better—than a rubbish Ministry job, and a lonely old house, and that feeling that everyone out there is doing a better job of living than Harry is.

The Beauty of Thestrals and Other Unseen Things by @writcraft (E, 63k)

Harry has terrific friends, an amazing girlfriend and his job as Head Auror enables him to work on challenging cases and Ministry reform. He just wishes he could work out why he’s been so out of sorts.

The Promise of Summer by Omi_Ohmy (M, 66k)

How was Harry supposed to know that coming back for eighth year would be so confusing? Everything is the same, and yet not the same. And nowhere is this more obvious than with Draco Malfoy. Harry finds himself once more watching and following Malfoy, trying to work him out.

Home Truths by @skeptiquewrites, art by @fantalfart (E, 67k)

In the off-season Harry decided to fix up Grimmauld Place and found that Draco Malfoy was the only person who could help him. A demanding career and unrelenting press scrutiny were enough to deal with before Harry added a house with a mind of its own, family history, and a tense, flirty, complicated relationship with his childhood nemesis to the mix.

Little Deaths and How to Avoid Them (or Draco Malfoy's Guide to Stop Dying and Start Living Instead) by nerakrose and dustmouth (T, 96k)

Malfoy is way too interested in coroner reports for somebody who's definitely not looking for ways to die, Harry wants to be friends with him, and Ginny wants to break up with Harry.

Grounds for Divorce by Tepre (E, 122k)

Malfoy finds a coin. Harry finds a letter.

By the Grace by lettered (T, 140k)

Harry is an Auror instructor. Malfoy wants to be an Auror.

[catchyhuh]

Oh god I am so in love with the way you write these, I’ve smiled like an idiot reading all of them. I laughed aloud at the idea of Goemon returning someone’s kid only for them to suddenly be a master of stealth.

If by any miracle you catch this ask and feel like thinking about it; do you have any opinions on what jobs the gang might be keeping should they belong in a universe that is totally mundane? Are they all interlinked/do they keep well out of eachothers’ way, has Lupin ever managed to stay employed for over a month etc. etc.

:,) I’d love to hear your takes on this simply because I think about it a lot. I think it’s an interesting character study.

i pride myself on my thoughts either being true or funny so it warms the lupin sized hole in my lupin sized heart that i am hitting one of those notes at least SO THANK YOU SO SO VERY MUCH LET’S TALK ABOUT MORTGAGES AND SHIT

lupin:

lupin. does not change that much as a person. like demeanor, personality-wise, he's still loud, giggly, smug even when it's unjustified, he’s just slightly less main-character-y about it, but he’s still the guy that says goodbye to everyone in the starbucks before he leaves and for some reason everyone feels compelled to say it back

jumps from job to job BUT. there was ONE time he got employee of the month. he was a solid olive garden waiter. but maybe he was just getting those favor points for being too lazy to bother the table refilling water every two minutes, and the little magic tricks he did were cute, and frankly, lupin is just a memorable name that you’d bring up if someone asked about the service there. honestly he only worked there to sneak bites of the pasta and because he thought the getup was sleek

jigen was his neighbor as a kid, and honestly they didn’t immediately like each other until they were like 15ish and caught each other trying to sneak out of the house after they’d both been grounded for completely separate events. they thought it was funny and hung out that night and after that they started to ACTUALLY grow close. nowadays they’ve got that “we’ve known each other for two decades and we’re still as close as ever” type thing everybody wishes they had, and they catch up about a week on average if they don’t just normally bump into each other. they were prob even roomies at some point

jigen:

i can very easily see his like mundane normal life being oddly content. this is maybe weird but i’m getting like. an everything-repairman here. he still has that gruff, doesn’t totally want to be here vibe, but he’s so damn good at like carpentry and mechanics that his yelp review average is pretty good! like hey. if your washer works again your washer works again. it just took two and a half hours of perfect silence with this guy sitting in your home.

as a result, jigen is unusually the tie between fujiko and goemon to lupin. he did some work at their places of business, mentioned this woman who barely looked up to wave when he came in to fix the lights, and then this man who wouldn’t STOP keeping his eyes on him once he came in, watching him like a hawk, and lupin was like wtf. weird people. unrelated uh where did you say they worked and what were their names, heights and zodiac signs?

definitely the porch guy. y’know the neighbor everyone had at some point who just gets home and sits on the porch for like three hours. jigen is that guy. the funny thing is cuz of his hat (which. maybe is like a baseball cap now idk the fedora seems unfitting for standard average joe life) nobody can even tell he’s fallen asleep twenty minutes in and isn’t actually casually keeping watch over the street. classic jigen move

fujiko: 

the funny thing is. honestly aside from the theft and espionage her CURRENT life could translate pretty well. there’s no cap to the discord kitten grindset. BUT SHE’D NEVER STOOP THAT LOW LMAO she's probably just chatting up the usual camps of nepo babies trying sooo hard to impress people and old men that miiiight write her into the will

i think she’s got a gig at a bridal shop/just a formal dress shop in general. she’s very interested in the way trends change and the sheer amount of bank people are willing to lay down just because of a brand? like she got her boyfriend last year to buy her this prada bag but that was someone ELSE’S problem, not hers! 9 times out of 10 she’s just doing her job but if she slowly starts to actually click with a client she’ll guide them to where they can find some nice jewelry that’s still quality but not highway robbery

still in that schrodinger’s relationship with lupin, it’s just, slightly more communicated between them here. if you asked if she had a boyfriend, she’d probably say no, but after spending a bit of time talking to her you notice that she keeps bringing up this one specific guy she used to be with, kinda like she. is currently with him? and then lupin comes in like “hey bbg i brought you some panera for your lunchbreak! they were outta the soup you like at the first one so i ran by two <3” and she’s like “thank you darling just set it on the table over there!” and he leaves. and you just stare at her. no further conversation on the matter transpires

goemon: 

oh god it’s so hard for me to imagine him being some average guy. first thing that came to mind is his hair is still that long, he just keeps it tied back for convenience’s sake and when he lets it down everyone’s like oh shit!! he’s kinda rocking that! also tends to wear big cardigans and coats to like. evoke the imagery of his usual attire Wait those are more character redesign notes than anything let's get back on track here

what job would fucking OHHH A MUSEUM GUY?? not really the sharing history with people half but like, keeping artifacts clean, organizing displays, having all that knowledge in his head but just not really telling anyone lol IT’S NOT THAT HE’S BOTHERED by the idea of throwing a little knowledge on the patrons, he just gets into so much of the nitty gritty that the average person has no idea how they went from talking about wood carvings to erosion on the shore of shizuoka. on that note are we set in japan here? uhhhhhhhhhhhhh?hhhh?? maybe

only really consistently hangs with jigen, and really, it’s because of jigen’s repair gig. museums break a lot! goemon doesn’t really mesh with too many people upfront, so he’s very interested in why he has some gut reaction to jigen despite only having spoken to him for two hours total in the last month. over time they’d become actual friends, but it’d take a bit for him to reach the “this is my man lupin and the purse with legs is his broad” introduction and then the way he WORDS that introduction starts an entire fight that leaves goemon absolutely baffled at how these people are. maybe friends? in time he warms up to them though, but maybe it’d take some unusual bonding experience, like a camping trip that immediately went south

zenigata:

saying he’d be a cop is BORING he wouldn’t be a COP. … there’s a distinction between a cop and a private investigator alright? BUT NO REALLY LET’S HAVE FUN WITH THIS yknow what would suck but really be funny. boring job. 9 to 5 office shit with nothing to do all day. oh he’d hate it, he’d be like pacing the room and shit just waiting for an excuse to actually DO something cuz its so fucking DULL in this FUCKING BEIGE BUILDING. like that bob's burger's bit where he has a nightmare about working in accounting or whatever

the story in the og manga was that somehow lupin and zenigata (and i believe fujiko too?) met in college. which. hey man the numbers could line up and frankly it sounds hilarious so i’ll buy that. he runs into him time to time just organically and  still doesn’t like him a lot lot but it’s more of a personality thing than anything else. and without the occasional heroics their original life has, zeni doesn’t get to see the actual good potential for a kind person like he has before so despite them having less reasons to beef HE LIKES LUPIN EVEN LESS IN THIS WORLD. maybe he’ll come around eventually 

sorry to keep going on this train of thought but really he’d be so different from his actual self just because of the different circumstances that it's really interesting to me. internally he’s the same but being subjected to the crazy shit in the franchise (strangely enough) kinda softened him up externally, but THIS zenigata doesn’t have that. so he’s like, polite to strangers and all. holds the door open for you. but he’s just so BITTER inside about how much more interesting things COULD be, like there’s envy there about how the gang doesn’t seem bothered by anything and has fun almost every day he happens to see what they’re up to. how does that even make sense?! SORRY THAT’S NOT REALLY FUN I DUNNO WHAT'S POSSESSED ME HERE just give him some time, some weirdo event will happen and it’ll knock everything within him back into place as we know him normally. he just needs the right insane motivation to fire up that deranged part of him that’s been lying dormant for a few decades

it just occurred to me i never mentioned mortgages once. damn

[levmada]

Hey Gee

These fic writers asks are really interesting! I don't know if 3 questions are too much but if you don't mind, I'd like to ask you about ✨- 🌈 - 💋

Thank you <3

hi syl!! forgive the long answer hehe :3

✨What's a fic you've posted you wish you could breathe life into again and have people talking about it? (or simply a fic you wish got more credit)

definitely this kid levi fic examining levi's canon relationship with kenny and how his ackerman powers were awoken

based on what it's about alone, it makes sense to me why (idk how else to put it) it wouldn't appeal to a lot of people + it's pretty long for a oneshot and contains some dark content.

BUT i speed-wrote it in like 2 days based off this constant fascination i had about what levi's "training" w/ kenny was like and like?? what kind of part did kuchel posthumously play in their dynamic. and my experience growing up just personally. plus i feel like i did a good job on it which is a lil rare for me

so yeah i wish i heard more about it? but at the same time i remember with EXTREME vividness the feedback i DID get on it from 2 people that i still think about when i dont feel confident about my writing, completely unrelated to the fic specifically. im extremely thankful for those comments. so i guess it's a case of quality over quantity if that makes sense.

🌈is there a fic that you worked *really fucking hard on* that no one would ever know? maybe a scene/theme you struggled with?

i’m going to answer this seriously but the first thing i thought of first is figuring out how scuba diving works from my old mer!levi longfic. i hardcore researched like?? oxygen poisoning? how long air tanks last and how to refuel them? the bends?? that was painful

but to be Serious™️ i started this kitty levi longfic in may 2022 that,,,,, i haven’t updated in about like,, forever (estimation). i think the reason i stopped working on it bc it turned into an INTENSE personal commentary on my own struggles and experiences - to process them i guess? but i kind of regret going that route bc it became mentally draining and just a lot.

i do plan to go back to it after my other longfic (danse macabre) is finished i think. maybe it’s rly weird bc it’s fanfic and narcissistic of me, but i ALSO place a lot of emotional Stuff into what that fic means to me, and i think once it’s done i’ll be in a better place to finish the kitty levi fic.

💋when you leave comments on a fic, do you want to hear back from the writer?

mmm it'd be nice if i did? normally my comments are keyboard smash so fjvrijori. ive heard controversy about it before tho, so the way i tend to think of it is, the writer didn't owe me the fic in the first place, it wasn't owed them for me to comment, so i don't feel one way or another about getting a reply if i leave a comment, but i’d be appreciative if i did. i just hope they read it and it made them happy lol

reeeall fic writer asks

[electrasev5nwrites]

Ninja Daily: Clarity 4

"This doesn't make any sense," Naruto insisted, not for the first time. Karin blinked bloodshot eyes, forcing down the urge to shake him until he stopped pacing like a lion at a zoo. That would hardly be very considerate or caring, considering the circumstances.

But watching him was making her feel sick.

Or hell, maybe she was nauseous for other reasons. Like thinking about what had probably happened to her cousin. Sure, Aiko was a brat, but that didn't mean she deserved whatever a rogue nutjob would unleash on her.

"Uchiha Madara? He'd be over a hundred years old! He should be feeding worms, not trying to get back at Konoha. What would he want from Aiko? What's the point?" Naruto stressed, pulling at his hair with a grubby fist, apparently not caring that nails were tucked between his middle and index fingers. He was still holding the hammer in his other hand.

Sasuke made a noncommittal sound, eyes even darker than usual. He was doing the best job of maintaining the illusion of working. None of them cared in the slightest about constructing the third house of the day.

Resentfully, Karin kicked at a bit of patio stone, and wished everything was on fire so she could go home.

'Look at me, I'm so handy,' she sneered. 'That's what Konoha is known for now. We get our asses kicked and our village razed all the time, but no worries, because we're all master craftsmen from all the practice we get rebuilding. Our client list is going to suffer as soon as someone thinks to mock us for being rubes with a bi-monthly invasion.'

She hadn't yet shared her analysis of the likelihood of someone thinking to use that rhetoric against Konoha. Probably Kumo, actually.

That was a near-heroic feat in itself, if anyone asked Karin. They didn't, of course, because everyone else was too busy to care that she hadn't signed up for a career in construction. She almost wished the supply train of shinobi and civilians hauling in lumber and other materials from various locations in Fire Country was less efficient.

'Practice makes perfect, though, so of course this is down to a science.'

At least she got to stop for a while whenever she ran out of materials. Poor Yamato had the worst deal, if she were to be fair about assessing the situation. He could build entire homes in minutes, albeit odd ones without a single nail or joint. He'd been worked mercilessly to raise the highest priority buildings until his chakra levels were barely above what it took to maintain consciousness. And then he'd done the same thing the next day.

"Are you two even listening?" Naruto demanded, voice breaking a little.

"Of course we are," Sasuke snapped, dropping the wood he'd been nailing with a clatter and wheeling on his teammate. "You won't stop repeating things we already know. Give it a rest! Whining won't bring her back. We can't do anything now, Naruto. So just stop." He took a deep breath. "Stop," he repeated raspily, glancing down and bending to pick up the plank he'd just dropped.

Karin swallowed, clenching her jaw and breathing in deeply through her nose. She just felt raw and angry, like water being poured over a sunburn. At least she had the restraint not to bite Naruto's head off.

Naruto was irritating the hell out of her too, but that didn't mean she was unaffected.

'Not like what I feel could compare to him,' she thought guiltily, wiping sweat off her temple before it rolled down her cheek. 'I've never had a twin. They were together all their lives. Losing that would be awful.'

Granted, she'd never seen them spend all that much time together. Nothing like the time she spent with Hinata. Aiko had Naruto over for dinner every week, and came over to the house in the mornings sometimes, but other than that… Well, she never seemed to seek him out for things unrelated to training.

'It's not like she ever really seeks anyone out, unless she needs something or has something specific in mind,' Karin thought, guilty for the observation but too logical to lie to herself. Aiko just wasn't social. She didn't seem to feel lonely and seek out human company. (Except Sai, who hadn't been proven to technically count as 'human company') It was weird and a little off-putting. That didn't mean she deserved to be kidnapped.

And tortured, probably. Honestly, it was unlikely that she'd survive the week. Statistically speaking, if they didn't receive some sort of ransom note by tomorrow, it was almost certain that her captor had no intention of keeping Aiko around for anything more than information. Joke's on him, Karin thought bleakly. He won't be getting any of that.

Of course, if the kidnapping was more personal, as the recurring interest made it seem, it was probably about revenge instead. Aiko had stolen two jinchuuriki from Akatsuki and made them look incompetent. It wasn't unreasonable that he could think to restore some of that reputation by proving it had been a fluke.

All that indicated was that Aiko would meet a much messier end, to be honest.

The only possibility where there was a reasonable likelihood (and by reasonable, Karin meant above ten percent, based on historical records of capture by enemy forces) of getting Aiko home alive was that Madara wanted to ransom her back for Naruto. And that excluded any possibility involving Naruto being handed over, because Tsunade would never let that happen. No, that chance came from the hope that Madara would make a mistake that allowed them to trace a path back to him, or that they would be able to overwhelm him at the supposed exchange site. Improbable and optimistic at best.

They'd know soon enough, she suspected. If Madara was going to kill Aiko after having made such a point of walking into Konoha's stronghold twice, he would extend that theatricality to making it obvious that she was dead. No shallow grave for Aiko, Karin suspected.

No. She was probably going to get strung up somewhere very public, to make a point about Konoha's weakness. Fucker.

As scientific and impartial as Karin liked to think she was, she shied away from any thoughts about possibilities that Madara had other reasons to want to keep Aiko alive and with him. She didn't want to think about Aiko being used against Konoha somehow, or being used in general. Her very first thought when his stalking had been made known was that there was a carnal interest involved, if she were honest. But god, he was older than dirt. That couldn't be it. It was too horrible.

Karin shuddered. Best not to mention any of that to Naruto. His imagination was clearly torturing him, but she didn't think that her estimation of different probabilities would soothe his mind at all. It might be kindest not to know.

They settled into a sullenly businesslike rhythm, working as the morning sun fled into painful heat at midday. A lot of the people working nearby drifted away in shifts to escape burns and dehydration.

A sudden up-shot in tension alerted the team that something had happened. Sasuke straightened, frowning slightly at the way the crowds staggering down the street with supplies cringed closer to the building faces being put up and repaired.

"Come on," he said shortly, abandoning his post.

The other two followed without a complaint, craning their heads.

"Are those… Kumo-nin?" Naruto asked skeptically, tilting his head slightly and putting his dirty hands on his hips, leaving blackened handprints on the low-slung green pants he was wearing to work in.

"Must be," Karin breathed, giving the small crowd a gimlet stare.

'I should have been paying more attention. They're not exactly blending in with the civilians. It's not like I know every Konoha nin's signature, but I should know everyone that strong…'

And the intruders really were strong. Actually…

"That's the Raikage," Sasuke said very quietly, eyes slightly narrowed at the tan giant wearing white everywhere but on his muscular chest.

'That's bad. That's really bad,' Karin realized. 'Does Kumo know that Sasuke's brother was the one who killed the eight-tail jinchuuriki? Because that would be a teensy bit awkward, now that Itachi's been reinstated.'

There was really only one way to find out.

The enormous man flanked by a grim-faced shinobi on either shoulder seemed to look over at their group. His eyes scanned over Karin without interest, but Naruto stiffened and firmed his gaze in a way that told her he definitely felt scrutiny. The slender blonde man next to the Raikage leaned over slightly to say something quiet that garnered an abrupt and not entirely kind bark of laughter.

"I don't like the way he's looking at you," Sasuke said quietly, moving ever so slightly in front of Naruto and raising his chin slightly in defiance.

The Raikage actually laughed at that defensive gesture, but at least he and his retinue continued walking past without comment.

For a moment, the only sound was Sasuke's teeth gritting and murmurs beginning in the crowd. Then Karin folded up the floor plans and shoved them in her pocket, before jerking her head towards Hokage tower.

"Let's go," she said darkly. "I want to know what's going on."

"Ummm…"

The other two stopped and looked at Naruto, wary of his uncharacteristic hesitation.

"We should probably clean up first," he said sheepishly, holding out his blackened, scraped fingers. "It's one thing to barge in on a meeting above our clearance, but another to do that when we stink. The old lady might actually murder us for embarrassing her like that. Our place is closest—I have some stuff you can wear, Sasuke-bastard."

The Uchiha grunted agreement, clearly more interested in haste than presentation.

Karin only felt a little guilty about abandoning her work in the civilian housing district to go home. It wasn't surprising that the central areas had suffered the most. Since paranoid, isolationist shinobi were most likely to live on the outskirts of the city (and were least inconvenienced by a long walk to the business and market districts), the military population was much less affected by the worst of the structural damage.

In other words, the empty Uchiha district and the Uzumaki house were both mostly fine, once debris had been pulled off the roofs and the broken windows had been replaced. They were livable, even if ugly and battered.

'I wonder what Kakashi-sensei and Yamato-taichou are doing.' Karin hurriedly scrubbed at her hair, cursing the filth that turned into mud in the shower drain. 'They both lived downtown. I bet there's nothing left. I think they've both been dressing out of the warehouse, so that probably means that nothing was salvageable.'

That must be awful. Should she ask? See if they needed space? Sasuke had much more room to offer, but there was still one empty room here.

(Karin was lying to herself. She was not going to ask because she didn't want to see what Naruto said if she offered out Aiko's room, no matter that it wasn't being used).

She tried not to stare too much at the way Naruto's standard issue blue pants and short-sleeve top fit Sasuke. The boys were wearing identical outfits, but it looked nearly indecent on Sasuke. Neither of her boys had very big builds, but Sasuke had a little more bulk than the blond. That translated to a rather tight fit in Naruto's tailored muscle shirt.

'Now is not the time, you insufferable pervert,' Karin told herself. She painted on a grim, professional mien, and tossed her damp hair over her shoulder before pushing her way to the front of the group and leading them to Hokage tower. Hopefully the boys would think that she was eager to get to work, instead of resisting the urge to ogle.

It was a damned shame that the Raikage had showed up at such an awful time. Konoha was disheveled. If they'd been anywhere near organized, then Sasuke would have already known the man was going to be in town.

In other words, Tsunade must be very stressed and distracted.

The Hokage was putting on a good front, however, when the trio made their way to the upscale bank that was serving as their administrative center for the moment.

"That's unnecessary," Tsunade said bluntly. The pale blond bodyguard turned to give Karin of all people an oddly scathing look when Shizune let the group in, but no one else paid them much attention. "Ame is no longer in control of the group responsible for the recent aggression. Punishing the survivors serves no purpose."

'That's awfully generous,' Karin thought doubtfully. There was probably something she was missing. Tsunade-sama wasn't that altruistic.

The Raikage sneered, giving a dismissive glance over the newcomers. Sasuke calmly met his gaze, moving to stand by Tsunade's shoulder. He actually belonged here, as her apprentice, and he looked comfortable. The Uzumaki, on the other hand, were obviously riding in on Sasuke's coattails.

'Not completely true. If Tsunade-sama really does have any intention of training Naruto as a possible successor, it's not unreasonable for him to be here. Course, that just leaves me as the intruder…'

Ah well. She didn't mind being rude. If they really cared, someone would kick her out.

"I was promised that Ame and Akatsuki would pay for what they did." Stubbornly, the Raikage cocked his head at Tsunade. He looked hilariously misplaced in the red velvet chair that had been scrounged up from somewhere.

"I never said that we'd take punitive action against Ame as a whole," Tsunade protested crossly. "What more do you want? Akatsuki is nearly finished. We need to hunt down the stragglers."

"Your representative guaranteed that I would have a chance to…" The enormous man sneered slightly, though the expression looked oddly fond. "How did she put it? Bury the fuckers ten feet down? There may have been something about burning Ame to the ground and dancing on the ashes." A shrugged dissidently, leaning forward ever so slightly. "What about that promise, huh?"

Something cracked in Tsunade's composure. "My represent- Oh, hell," she cursed fluidly.

The dark-skinned man with nearly white hair lurking at the Raikage's left shoulder looked scandalized.

"You mean Aiko," Sasuke said flatly. The tension in the room instantly ratcheted up. Karin made a grab for Naruto's hand, as if hoping to prevent him from doing anything risky. The tension in his muscles was obvious, but he didn't shake her off. "Unfortunately, Uzumaki Aiko is missing in action. So it is impossible to confirm your account with her. She was not alone when she made this offer, was she?"

Shizune sighed, swaying slightly. "I'll go get Hatake-san."

"Get Yamato, he'll be easier to find and he needs a break," Tsunade corrected, rubbing at her temple while the young woman bowed slightly and left.

The blonde man at the Raikage's right side looked so amused at the bad news that Karin seriously considered lunging over and punching him. By contrast, the Raikage was frowning.

"You lost her?" Displeased, he shook his head slightly. "You really are incompetent. I didn't think you would actually lose track of the Fourth Hokage's kid. Is that why this one is here, then?" A jerked his head toward Naruto. "The spare? How long until you get this one killed too?"

'He's trying to provoke us. Be calm. Be calm.'

Nope, she still wanted to rip off his stupid tacky belt and shove it down his throat after she used it to bludgeon him black and blue.

"She's not dead," Naruto said calmly, looking bizarrely unperturbed. "I'll be sure to convey your concern about her well-being when I next see her, though. I'm sure Aiko will appreciate your interest."

'What?'

The white-haired bodyguard might have been choking down a laugh, and he couldn't even see the flabbergasted expression on his kage's face. It was pretty glorious.

A let out a long breath, narrowing his eyes in a contemplative glare. Naruto stood straight, completely unaffected as far as the eye could tell. Karin cautiously disengaged her hand from his, not wanting to undermine the attitude he had going on at the moment.

"Well, that apple fell a little closer to the tree," A condescended grudgingly. "You look a lot more like the fourth Hokage, and you sound more like him too. Are you the smart one, then?"

Naruto, smart?

Well… he certainly wasn't stupid, but Karin had never thought of him as academically intelligent. He thought well on his feet, and he had both social and creative intelligence. Was that what the Raikage meant?

"Nope," Naruto smiled, and the tension in the room instantly fled. "But that's what I have Sasuke and Karin for."

"What am I, furniture?" Tsunade asked dryly. Karin wasn't fooled. The older woman was pleased that Naruto had managed to undercut the tense atmosphere.

Naruto wasn't quite magical enough to fix everything, however. After another twenty minutes of arguing, the Raikage stormed out with an anxious Shizune on his heels directing him towards the temporary 'diplomatic suite' where he would be staying the night.

Tsunade sighed heavily, slumping as soon as he was out of sight. "What a mess," she groaned. "I don't need his war-mongering right now. He really wants to storm the border himself."

"Why don't you want Ame punished?"

The blonde cracked one eye open to give Sasuke a tired look. "Isn't it obvious?"

Sasuke huffed, amused. "I thought you might want to monologue. Yes, it's obvious. The Raikage won't give up the territory once he's done with it. That would mean that one of our worst enemies would have a base very close to our center of power, one that was right next to the other large country out for our blood. Right now we have the protection of a three-country alliance, but we won't have that forever. We can't afford to let Kumo have Ame."

"Got it in one."

Appalled, Naruto opened and closed his mouth before he found words. "So Akatsuki is just going to get away with what they did, because we're too worried about Kumo being a danger in future?"

"No," Sasuke rejected. "Akatsuki itself will be punished, and Ame is going to be crippled for years to come. They're hardly getting off scot-free. They'll be paying diplomatic sanctions-"

"Crippling sanctions," Tsunade interrupted darkly.

The brunet nodded agreeably. "Right, they'll basically be giving us everything but their kidneys."

"And that's not good enough for the Raikage?" Karin ventured. "What more could he want?"

Tsunade gave her a pitying look that made Karin feel very young and small. "Revenge. Or justice, as he feels. He blames Ame for B's death."

"That's not completely unjustified," Sasuke muttered.

"Not completely justified, either," Naruto pointed out wryly. "That was your brother specifically, wasn't it? Technically on Konoha's orders to follow Akatsuki's orders, even if we didn't know it at the time. If that comes out…"

"We can't hand Itachi over, either," Tsunade groaned. "So stop being so damn fidgety, Sasuke. I'm not throwing your precious brother to the wolves. No, we're claiming that he was our man on the inside all along and that was why the invasion went so smoothly. No one is going to like it, but they won't disagree, either, since Itachi never did anything particularly offensive in his tenure in Akatsuki. As far as the public knows, anyways."

"Really?" Yamato asked sullenly, leaning on the doorjamb. "You mean he did nothing particularly offensive except attacking Jiraiya-sama and Naruto multiple times in an attempt to kidnap Naruto, or putting Kakashi-senpai and Aiko in the hospital?"

"Nothing offensive to anyone but Konoha," Tsunade amended, while Sasuke exchanged an uncomfortable expression with Naruto. They were probably going to have to talk that one over at some point. Then she scowled. "What took you so long? And did Aiko really promise the Raikage that he was going to get to exhaust his aggression on Ame?"

Yamato took a moment to answer, scratching thoughtfully at his chin. "I think there was something about burning it down? Which would be pretty hard, on account of the damp, but in her defense, she may have been unfamiliar with the climate."

Karin groaned.

"I suppose it could have been hyperbole," Yamato added with an air of contemplation, squinting slightly. "She sorta started by threatening Kumo if they didn't leave Naruto alone. That was where the burning thing came from, pretty sure. And then it just got transferred to the discussion of Ame. So technically, I don't think she promised that." He blinked, as if realizing the room was full of other people. "Does that help?"

No, that did not help. There was a moment of appalled silence.

"Good thing you didn't diplomatically empower anyone hotheaded with a flair for the dramatic," Sasuke commented mildly. "That would have been bad."

Tsunade crumpled up a paper and tossed it at his head in response.

Without opening her eyes, Aiko breathed deeply. Her bedroom still retained a bit of a dusty smell that made her nose itch, but it was beginning to seep with the scent of the shampoo and weapon polish that Obi had provided for her.

Obi was a liar.

Or at least, he was leaving something crucial out. Aiko rolled over and buried her face in her pillow, slinking her arms underneath the cool fabric.

It seemed a lot more likely that her nightmares and dreams were fragments of memory than that they were total coincidences. She'd brought up a couple of them, spaced days apart so that Obi wouldn't know she was having the dreams every night. He had claimed not to recognize what she was talking about. Either Obito was lying about being close to her (because he really should have known something about her personal life) or he was lying about not recognizing the situations she mentioned.

'Still, I suspect that it would be unwise to let on.'

She liked Obito, she really did. He was kind to her, and smart, and he helped her with all sorts of things. That didn't mean she was blind to the fact that she didn't really know what was going on, except that he now controlled every aspect of her day-to-day life, he was much stronger than she was, and that he had some sort of agenda for her.

Maybe she would go along with that agenda. Maybe she wouldn't. But she couldn't possibly help her situation by letting him know that she was suspicious of his intentions. If she was wrong, he'd be hurt. If she was right…

Well, she didn't even know what might happen to her. If he'd wanted her dead, she would be dead already. There had to be other things she had to fear, but Aiko didn't know what the hell they were.

'It might have been easier to stay in Konoha,' Aiko thought wryly. 'I probably would have figured out that they were hostile about the time I found myself strapped down with thumbscrews in my face. Would be nice to know where I stand with someone.'

But that ship had sailed.

Regretfully, she heaved her lazy carcass out of bed and rifled through the (approximately seventy billion) shiny plastic bags piled on the long-neglected furniture.

"I should probably put this away," Aiko mumbled, holding up …something, and squinting at it suspiciously. Maybe it was a scarf?

She didn't know what half this shit was or what she was supposed to deal with it.

"I get the feeling that Obi thinks I'm a kid," she remarked to an unimpressed dresser covered in a sparkly white table-runner.

It was just a fleeting suspicion, really, based on nothing more than the fact that the wardrobe he'd provided was rather heavy on flouncy skirts and high collars in pretty, bright colors. The inconsistency was odd. The man who was re-teaching her how to kill people –corpse corpse corpse—she shuddered—seemed to think she was an adorable kid.

'At least I'm sure he's not a pervert,' Aiko thought wryly, finally settling on a black skirt and a green button-up shirt with a high collar. 'That's one insidious motivation off the list of possibilities. And it does seem like he's fond of me. He's spoiling me terribly. If he really had no emotional attachment, he wouldn't go the extra mile, I think.'

As she slipped them on, she suspected that the white boots he'd provided had belonged to another kunoichi before, although Aiko had no idea who.

'Someone with big floppy feet,' Aiko thought meanly. And unfairly. She'd had to pad the shoes so that they weren't too big, but that probably had more to do with her than with their previous owner. Judging by the women she'd seen when Obito took her into town, she was a hopeless shrimp. Maybe there was a growth spurt in her future?

Because padded second-hand boots were not glamorous, and neither was the insidiously creeping suspicion that Obito was interchangeably acquiring her clothes from the child's and junior's sections.

It wasn't a thought worth lingering on.

The boots were in pristine condition, but they didn't feel stiff like the new equipment he'd gotten her did. Real shinobi gear was both expensive and hard to procure outside of a hidden village, from what she understood. The boots were the only thing in her wardrobe that appeared to be shinobi-tough, although they were well-disguised as merely pretty shoes.

'I like imagining that some poor woman is wondering what happened to her spare boots,' Aiko snickered. 'Obito, you silly creep.'

"See, you're adorable," were the first words out of his mouth when she trotted downstairs. "I told you to trust my taste." Aiko gave him a baleful stare.

"When did you get back?" she asked archly, tossing her hair as she settled against the counter. The motion would have been more dramatic if the mass of hair had cascaded or bounced or something. Unfortunately, she had an ugly explosion of tangles and knots that sort of jerked angrily.

The motion apparently drew his attention to her ill-maintained mop. Obito sighed, shaking his head slightly. "I just got here. Did you lose your hairbrush?"

Aiko blinked, hand frozen over the rather depleted fruit bowl.

'Hairbrush? What hairbrush?'

After a moment of racking her memory, she flushed self-consciously and patted at a tangle on her right shoulder. "Some girls don't brush their hair," she sniffed, tilting her nose up and randomly selecting a rather sad-looking orange.

'I remember that now. What happened to the hairbrush anyway? I haven't seen it in a while.'

The look on Obito's face implied that he didn't buy her lie. "You mean that you forgot. I thought that kind of thing was supposed to come naturally to girls," he drawled.

Aiko looked down and pressed her lips together, feeling strangely ashamed. It was hard to remember all the little things she was supposed to do.

She hadn't forgotten the humiliation that first night with the nurse who had helped her shower. Her impulse had been to say that she didn't need help—she knew enough to be certain that hygiene wasn't terribly difficult and that she should be able to handle it on her own. But when she was actually faced with the task at hand, Aiko had stared blankly at the arrangement of soaps and lotions she was supposed to use.

Could she just use one bottle and be fine?

No?

Well then. Was it shampoo and then conditioner? She was probably going to forget that at some point.What happened if she did it in the wrong order?

She was pretty sure that slathering herself in the scented chemicals deemed necessary by society wasn't meant to be actively stressful. She was getting better at it, though. The more she thought about it, the harder it was.

"Aww, hell. I'm sorry." Obito pushed that dumb mask that was always on his head up, exposing a slightly rueful expression. "It doesn't matter. Your hair looks exciting. Anyways, I have something for you to do today."

That perked her right up. "Really?" Aiko twisted to look at him, abandoning the fruit she'd been trying to peel with a plop onto the table.

He gave her a blank look for a moment before shaking his head slightly. "Yes, right." Oddly, he swallowed before he managed to gather his thoughts. "You'll be working with one of my associates. Zetsu should make sure that everything goes well. If worst comes to worst, he can contact me. I think you'll be fine," Obito added encouragingly.

'I should hope so. All you have me do is train.'

She gave him a thin smile instead of that bit of grumpiness. It wouldn't help anything. "So, what am I doing?"

Apparently reassured by her good attitude, Obito leaned back in his chair slightly and began twirling a kunai on his finger. "You'll be working to acquire monetary resources."

Aiko paused. Ruefully, she quirked an eyebrow at her comrade. He broke out into a sheepish smile. "Obiiii," she drawled. "You're telling me to replenish our coffers?"

He coughed. "Quite."

"That's not terribly glamorous."

"Nope," Obito agreed, popping the 'p' sound playfully. "But work often isn't. What do you think I do all day?"

'Steal cute shoes from giant women?'

She sighed theatrically, dropping the fruit onto the table and plopping down across from him. Aiko pursed her lips as she braced her chin on palm. After a moment, she tilted her head slightly, trying to convey pleading.

"That won't work," Obi said flatly. "I thought you wanted to work again? Ninja don't get to do only things that are fun."

"Ugggghhh," Aiko groaned, tossing her head back. "Fine. There goes my faith in humanity." She huffed. "So do I get details?"

"You're going to be answering a request for help that was communicated through some contacts of mine."

That was remotely encouraging. There was something a little romantic about swooping in to save the day. Was that what she and Obito did? Not bad.

"Help stealing an antique scroll. Seriously, this thing is ancient," Obito stressed, tapping his fingertips on the table boredly.

That was less encouraging.

"I'm a thief?" Aiko asked incredulously, scowling. "Seriously? Not even the cool kind of thief who does glamorous things, but a contractor?"

How boring, and businesslike.

Obito tossed his head back and laughed, flashing white teeth. "I may have left out the detail that you're stealing this back for the rightful owner."

"Oh." She blinked. "That… sounds okay, I guess. I think I could do that."

"Your confidence astounds."

Aiko scowled at his dry humor, and crossed her arms over her chest without paying any attention to how the added tension strained at the buttons of her shirt.

Obito flinched oddly.

"A-anyway, you'll have backup," he hurriedly assured her. "I'll introduce you to Zetsu-san when he gets here. Uh- he has the details. He'll walk you through it. But don't worry, you can do this. It's well within your capabilities, even now. Although to be safe, you should avoid using your real name. You don't want to be associated with a bad job. How about Masashi?" he teased.

Masashi. Righteous aspiration. It wasn't a bad name, exactly, but…

'A man's name? Fucking flattering. I don't know if that's worse than being told I'm likely to fail. Thanks, love.'

She gave him a black stare. Why did she hang out with this guy again?

That would be a thing worth knowing. She should look into that.

In response, he cleared his throat. "Yyyyeah. Um." Obito sucked in a self-conscious breath, aware that he was only digging himself a deeper hole and visibly desperate to change the topic. "So, are you going to do anything about your hair?"

That didn't help.

In the moment that Aiko considered leaping over the table and going for his throat, a rusty self-preservation drive kicked in. "Because I could do it for you?" he added weakly, wiggling his fingers. "And would like to very much?"

"Nice save," Aiko muttered forty seconds later, leaning back into the warm digits against her scalp as Obito finger-combed her hair. Even the frequent jolts of pain as his fingers caught on tangles couldn't bring down her good mood- she was all but purring. It turned out that her head was very sensitive. She whined unhappily when he gathered the mass in a slightly off-center tail at the top of her head and moved to awkwardly secure it with-

"Is that wire?" she asked incredulously, avoiding the urge to twist around to stare.

"What's wrong with wire?" her friend muttered self-consciously, withdrawing his hands like he'd been burnt. "Ninja wire has all kinds of uses."

It took a deep breath to calm down enough to formulate a coherent reply. "Obi?" He jolted guiltily at the nickname. "I'm pretty sure there's some sort of specialized product for tying hair."

"Maybe. A hair tie?"

She didn't really know for sure either. Apparently, personal grooming hadn't been particularly high on the list of priorities for her to remember.

I think I misplaced this omake? If it was in here somewhere before, I apologize. Had to rewrite.

Omake (Because Where Else Would Obito Think to Get Them?)

Haru jolted. It took a moment of nervous contemplation and steeling her nerves before she worked up the determination to peer around the corner into the room she was supposedly serving as an honor guard for.

The sounds coming from inside were just unseemly. She was almost certain that she was hearing muttering among the occasional thuds and clattering noises.

"Konan-sama?" She called, her voice breaking a little.

The only sound that could vaguely be termed a response was a thud that somehow managed to convey irritation. Haru flinched, and re-considered the wisdom of actually addressing Pein's Angel. She wasn't worthy. Frankly, she was still a little in awe of the woman had come back to claim leadership of Ame and asked for a few higher level shinobi to accompany her as she prepared to parley with the other leaders.

Still, without a direct answer, she was bold enough to step into the room.

That lingering awe was slightly shaken by the sight of her prospective kage on her knees, sweeping under the bed with her palms. All she could see from this angle was.. Haru flushed crimson, and looked away hastily. That wasn't dignified.

"My lady?" Haru croaked uncertainly.

Konan froze for a moment, with her hovering rear end tense and bare feet dangerously still. With quiet dignity, she backed out from under the bed and slowly lifted her torso, twisting to blink languidly at her minion. "I have misplaced my shoes," she said calmly, brushing a dust bunny off of her hair. "This is the third pair. I suspect conspiracy."

She had been previously unaware that Pein's Angel was crazy. Good to know.

[nearaceln]

The medication that my psychiatrist recently started me on, meant to aid in my depression, has caused my chronic insomnia to worsen to such an abhorrent degree that I find myself missing the former 4-5 hours I was getting on the prior medication meant to help the depression. The night shifts I work at my job probably don’t help much, either, in the soft defense of pharmacological distributors.

It is an odd sensation- waiting for a pager to go off, hoping it doesn’t. They don’t warn you that once you start, you will hear phantom pages for the rest of your goddamn life (seemingly; will correct if I ever stop hearing beeping that is not real).

I love my job. Well, I love my field, and I love what I do. The fact that my job has to exist is a cruelty. Peoples suffering could never make me happy (okay, perhaps a select few of those who have hurt me deeply. But those suckers have it coming and are unrelated to the folks I help treat).

Tonight a young-sounding 19 year old called. She was tearful, sniffling back something she didn’t want to (but also did want to) talk about. I won’t explore the content of her story, as it isn’t mine to tell, but I can say that the way I have learned to handle these calls is to tell the audience the things I wish someone would have told me, in this case, at 19. “It isn’t your fault. You did not deserve that. Not any of it. You sound bright, and kind, and even if you aren’t always, you still don’t deserve that. You are a person deserving of respect, kindness, goodness. I know we forget it sometimes about ourselves, but for a moment imagine you’re speaking to a friend. Would you tell them they didn’t deserve goodness? No. Of course not. Because it isn’t true. I am so sorry that those things have happened to you. It is not, however, a reflection on you. You’re here in spite of that. That is a power. It is a strength.” She asked “how do I fix it so I can sleep tonight?” And I rattled off some ideas like journaling things that make her happy. I added, knowing 19 year old me would think “this is bullshit”- “I don’t mean some cliche shit about your life, the world, or the future. You can write about that if you want. It’s your list. I mean…the sheets you picked for your bed. The way the first bite of an apple tastes in the fall. The sunset. The smell of coffee. The feeling of finally getting to take your bra off. Your makeup off. The view at the top of a hike. Your dog. Your favorite nail polish shade. Your favorite socks. Words you like the sound of. The meal your mum cooked the best. Your grandmothers hands. That stuff.” She conceded, and wrote some of a list that she planned on finishing. Before I let her go, I reminded her “you are only 19. You have not even yet met everyone who is going to love you - your kindness. Your heart. Your intellect. Your drive. There are so many people out there who will listen to your story and care about it. And the things that happened, they don’t define you. Your strength in calling tonight, does. Your willingness to be vulnerable, to stay alive, to write a list with a crazy lady on the phone. That’s you. And, for what it’s worth, I think it’s wonderful. So, while the world waits for the right moment for these people to arrive, you remember to call this line whenever you want. Seriously. I can be your temporary. And it won’t bother me for one single second. You’re not alone. I won’t let you be.” She ended the call by thanking me for my time and kindness, said she was feeling better, and that she was going to try to get some sleep.

As I hung up my phone I thought of the version of myself from a decade ago. She was so lonely. She lived in a one bedroom flat, had no friends, studied and worked, kept her head down. She would never believe that a future version of her could be anything different. And yet, here she is. Rather, here I am. Awake with crippling insomnia, still lonely at times, always keeping my chin up toward the sun.

I think of the home that I have built. I hear my husband snoring, finally resting. I look over at him. His mouth open slightly, brows furrowed, hair messy, one arm beneath his head and the other outstretched. He looks, in this moment, like I imagine he did as a young boy. I wonder what he needed to hear when he was; who didn’t say it to him; who did.

I have many dogs. Eight, to be exact. Having this amount of them means that at any given moment in my life I could easily reach out and Pat a dog. What a therapy I have unconsciously given myself. They sleep soundly beside me, so used to my insomnia that they only stir when my husband wakes up. Pavlov must have been right - my mental illness has conditioned not one, but a pack of dogs to not even notice the weight of a body being lifted off the bed, the sound of a door opening, the start of a car. I think of the life I have given them, and I know they have felt nothing but kindness. That alone seems intangible to me. A child of abuse grows to be an adult filled with enough trauma to make sleep a concept only read about, never experienced. An adult who worries at every moment when something will break; who hopes it is not her. An adult who knows how to hand out both cruelty and kindness equally well. Skilled tongue in both causing injury and kissing wounds. I choose kindness. Perhaps, just to be the opposite of my parents. Isn’t that what we all grow up wanting to be- just not our parents? Or perhaps because I know what it feels like to only be offered cruelty, and how small acts of kindness are but a candy you find hidden in your grandmothers purse after being told you cannot eat anything but cauliflower (By the way, I still hate cauliflower, mum). How you can suck on it for hours. While it doesn’t ease the belly cramps, it warms you. It keeps you alive for another day, hoping for another strawberry wrapped gift tomorrow.

I go pee, and I look in the mirror. I usually avoid this. My own reflection bothers me. I try to conjure the 19 year old me to tell her precisely what I told the girl from before. She doesn’t arrive. She died long ago. She resides in ashes throughout my bloodstream. Perhaps we are all made up of the versions of ourselves that could not survive.

The sun is coming up now. I look out the window of my home. Pet my dog (one of eight). Brush my fingers along my husbands forehead, try to comfort him from whatever nightmare is plaguing him. Admire him and the life we’ve built. My chin tilts toward the rising Sun. I have survived another night, and will survive another day, and I will once again choose kindness. If not for those in my life now, for the little girl residing in my veins who never had the chance to receive it.

-Ace

[islyingtoyou]

new beginnings, death, and peace.

[Tuesday, July 18, 2023]

it's not fucking fair.

he was to start his job from today. I went with him to his office. we talked for the entire 30-minute commute, and he was so excited to have such a high-end job right after college. we had a bit of cake that he'd baked and walked 10 minutes to his office. we're standing on the middle of the road divider when he gets a call. his grandfather is dead. dead.

i'm holding his hand, guiding him through the traffic. i'm scared he might run into the cars himself. I hug him when we're on the escalator. I hold his hand. he can't process it yet. he's still in shock. we stand outside the enormous 25-floor glass building spread over 10 acres. people walk past us laughing and talking, unaware of the tragedy that has just occurred. i let him stay silent for a while. he calls his mother. they're coming to pick him up. they have to leave for their grandfather's place. he has to talk to his boss. hopefully, he can get his documentation process done online. he talks of things unrelated. I let him.

he has to go. i disregard the people around and hug him. it takes him a while to respond, but he puts his arms around my waist. his breathing is shallow. he rests his head on my shoulders and takes a deep, shaky breath. he pulls back. i wipe a lone tear off his right cheek. we begin to walk towards the building. i kiss his hand. it's going to be okay soon, i tell him. he smiles at me, squeezes my hand, and walks away.

i stand watching until he's disappeared into the building. i want to stay right there until he gets out and goes off with his parents, but he told me to go home. i get on the subway and sit for many stops past my own. the music blasting from my earphones doesn't distract me. i can't help but think of how broken he looked. i call a mutual friend. i text my parents asking for advice. as i double back home, i text him about it, to let his emotions out, to feel, and know that i'm here for him. i tell him not to text me out of any sort of obligation, but to just let me know when he reaches the place.

i reach home and lie down on the bed. i can feel my heart breaking thinking of him and all that he has had to go through. I've never met his father's father, and yet i feel the loss as my own. i wish i could physically be there for him.

he tells me his father seems okay, except that he's driving at 150 km/hr, and he isn't sure if they'll make it out alive themselves. i pray for him. for his father. for his mother. for his grandfather's soul. they reach safely. i am over 300 kilometers away, and yet i prepare myself to be able to help him.

i don't hear from him for almost 12 hours. i spend my time in household chores and netflix. i had planned to work on his birthday gift, but this day seems like a wrong one to do so. I read about customs and last rites. i read about peace and the soul. i read about omens.

we talk around midnight. he's lying on the roof, watching the stars. arcturus and vega are bright tonight, he tells me. altair is pretty too, he says. i smile. it's soothing to me that my stars are comforting to him. i think back to the first day i pointed out stars in the sky, and he couldn't believe they were visible from a city like ours.

he says he's fine. that it was a rollercoaster of pain, observation, and acceptance. carrying the body barefoot as a pallbearer for over a mile, there was a strange feeling in him. it rained. the wood on the pyre is wet. it takes five hours for it to burn to ashes. the people stand and watch in silence. it took away the pain of loss, he said.

there are stories shared. he lived a fulfilling and happy life. they eat together in the evening - the first meal of the day. most of the extended family leaves. he stays with his parents, lying on the roof of their old house, looking up at the stars. he comes back tomorrow, he says. his parents will stay. he'll go back on the twelfth day.

he says he doesn't know what he would've done if i hadn't been there when the news came. i send a silent prayer to the gods for helping me be there at the right time. he says he thinks i'm special, and he's grateful to have me. i tell him i'm thankful to be there for him, for he's the love of my life. we smile. he has to go.

i remind him that sunrise is always going to come after a sunset, no matter how dark a night might be. i tell him i love him.

i sit in my room thinking of just the day before. we went to the temples to thank the deities for our blessings and to ask for guidance from the divine in times tough. i prayed for strength and success for him. for him to achieve every dream in life, be it with me or without. i prayed for his health, for bravery, and love. he's shown it all today.

i toss and turn, trying to sleep. it's three in the morning. i hug my pillow close. far away, maybe he's doing the same thing. maybe he's asleep. but the inability to sleep consumes me. it will continue to do so until i have him in my arms again, knowing he is safe. knowing i can help him.

my heart aches for him, and sometimes it feels like i can physically feel him and his emotions. today, there's conflict and sadness, but there's also peace. it seems as though tonight, he's finding another star to name.

.

pray for my love.

[justaredheadf1fan]

First one in the US is here

Well, hiyah!

That gif made sense seeing all the spectacle going on in Miami since yesterday. Not a fan, but what can I do?

I'm starting to think about stopping this blog not even halfway through the season. Just because with a job with such random shifts and maybe only 2-3 free weekends (Barcelona being one of them since we're attending once again) until I'm done in October keeping it up seems kinda tedious ngl. I'll see what I decide in the next few weeks, I'm still getting used to the adult life again 🤣

Press conference - Thursday

I haven't really paid attention to what was said in the pressers, plus they didn't talk about anything interesting whatsoever.

The most interesting thing was about last weekend's drama between George and Sid the Sloth due to Crofty's question. George really is a mood right now. I mean, it was just an inchident, problem with a certain someone is still that he can't take it when someone pulls the same crap as he normally does.

But that's about it. Maybe tomorrow I'll pay more attention, but there's no promises.

Free Practice 1 - Friday

Well, in all honesty, I've watched the first session without watching it. I was drying my hair while FP1 was on and I didn't really pay attention.

There was some trouble for George apparently that they had to fix before he got back on track, the track is almost brand new since they changed the shitty ass tarmac so they all needed to try different set ups to see what works and what doesn't in this new bore of a circuit. Nothing new, all in all.

Hülkengberg did crash with like 20 or 25 minutes to go and the session was Red Flagged immediately. Quick job for once, wish the FIA took it this seriously every single time.

Other than that, the only interesting enough information is having George, Lewis and Sharl respectively on the Top 3. What a sight for sore eyes, am I right? 🥹

It might be a little too late to watch FP1 but I need to take advantage of the free Friday although I'm getting up early tomorrow for work...

Free Practice 2 - Friday

Okay, not the day to watch F1, truth be told. I'm getting ready for bed while I watch FP2 🤣 I'm being so unserious today it's actually funny. Anywho.

Grape Scotch (this reference might be too "obscure"), that save from Kevin!!!!! He missed the wall by less than nothing, phew!!!

Besides that especial someone having troubles with his car's insides, the rest has been really quiet. Even though I've been busy while watching, I've been paying more attention to this one, all for nothing.

SHARL AGAINST THE WALL, NOT AGAIN!!!!!!

Geez, thank goodness it was close to the end and nothing else happened. What a bore. When I wanted some excitement I didn't mean my boy crashing!!!

Anywho, more tomorrow. I might die of lack of sleep but I'll watch from my grave then 🤣

Free Practice 3 - Saturday

Ladies and gents, I'M NOT PAYING ATTENTION. You could say that I dislike this GP and you'd be right. It's not interesting, DRS zones have been shortened, nothing's going on. You name it.

I mean, there's really no point in watching this atm. I couldn't be any more bored. This race for me looks more like a circus than a sport. Well, nowadays all of them are, but Miami is the worst representation. It's more important having celebrities and events unrelated to the sport than the actual race weekend. It's sad. I miss the old F1 so much.

It's been painful to write this crap of a "summary", because you can't even call it that. So unmotivating 🤣

I'm sorry this is such a downer, not proud of it. But I feel like if I don't even try and watch it all and make a post and everything I'd be failing my resolution toward this blog.

Anyway, I'll watch Quali later. I hope it's more interesting. I really hope it is.

Peace out!

[fireandspiceland]

Okay Iceland is trying to leave the house in a super slutty outfit.

Think like a completely mesh t-shirt, a choker, and booty shorts. And throw in some amazingly edgy makeup.

How do you headcannon each of the Nordics react?

Do they let him leave like that?

Do they love that he’s expressing himself?

Does Norway try to give him the “I’m not letting you leave the house dressed like that” talk?

 Does he try to fight back?

The mental image I have for this is hilarious I wish I could draw good enough to show you! but since I can't plase imagine Ice in a slutty e girl emo techwear kind of outfit, trying to seak out of the Nordics’ house (where he stays for some unrelated reason):

Finland spots him from the living room and they stare at each other for a moment, before Fin does that locking his mouth and throwing the key away gesture followed by a thumbs up to the outfit and make up and a wink at Ice who exhales with relief and motions a quick "thank you" at Fin before he continues his way to the front door. He’s the caring kind of parental figure, but at the same time he knows that Ice is capable of taking care of himself (which Iceland is forever grateful for even if he doesn’t show it all the time). So, why not let that boy have some fun?

If he was alone, Sweden would maybe stop Ice or AT LEAST ask him about the outfit or where he’s headed too. If he approves of the outfit or not - I don’t know and I don’t think he would mention it. He just wants to know where any of his kids (if you can Ice even call that) are going to and how and when they’re coming back home. It’s not about being controlling or mistrusting for him, he just takes the father role he plays for Ice (and sometimes all the Nordics rip) serious and it gives him security to know about their whereabouts. But he already saw Finland giving Iceland the sign of approval, and doesn’t interfere with that.

Norway is the one who catches Iceland right at the door and basically pulls him back inside at the collar of his very fragile shirt. He’s also the one Ice had to be wary of, cause he knows the others usually don’t take that much of an interest in his private life. Well, Denmark sometimes does.. but back to Norway. The problem with Norway is that he WANTS to give Iceland the talk you mentioned above and he HATES the very little choice of clothes, BUT he’s nothing better. Probably worse. And Iceland knows. Therefore he ends up giving him the glare of disapproval and forces at least a jacket onto Iceland (that will be off again in no time but still) while doing Sweden’s job of telling him not to come home to late, to call if anything happens and to please use protection when he [*insert Iceland blushing and gesturing wildly to make Norway shut up*].

That is until Denmark shows up in the hallway to check out what Iceland is grumbling about. Ice should be used to the embarrassement of Denmark complimenting his outfit in completely outdated terms ("You look so hip! Totally rad, Icey!") but he still wishes Norway would just ground him on the spot to save him from Denmark now offering, no insisting, on joining Ice and taking him to wherever he is headed. It's not that he doesn't appreciate the interest or a free ride, but UGH which kid teen immortal being with the body of a teenager wants their EMBARRASSING uncle to join them when they tried to sneak out of the house unnoticed??

In conclusion: rip Iceland. They support him as good as they can, even if it's not what Ice wants most of the time, but he's grateful for his family and even if he complains sometimes, he wouldn't have it any other way cause it only shows they care about him. Also none of the others dares to mention it, but they all know he got that slutty streak from Norway. 😘

[hotforharrison]

Hi! Sorry in advance for my bad English! I wanted to get your opinion. Why do you think Harrison does so little in movies/series? Is he too picky about his roles or is there too much competition? Don't get me wrong. I understand that it's not easy being an actor and especially getting a part, but over the years hasn't he had an offer even for a minor role!!!? Sometimes I think he wants to do major roles and big projects, but not everyone is so lucky and by turning down small roles he misses his chance. I've been following him since 2017 and am really worried about his career. Only 2 series in 6 years (I'm not counting short films and 1 minute cameos in Tom's movies). Catch 22 is a good show, but Harrison is 10 minutes long. And the series "the regulars" was a flop, although I liked it. It's not a masterpiece, but it's not too bad either. I think there were big bets on this series, especially Harrison's, but in the end it was unlucky. And this year we have another series in which Harrison will have a small role. I just want the best for him! And a second question. I'm almost 99% sure that Harrison is auditioning for the role of Johnny Storm. He has said himself that he would like to play him and more than once. But what are the chances of him getting the role? He has very little acting experience and I'm afraid that's not in his favor. He has a great friendship and chemistry with Tom Holland and I think they would show it perfectly through Peter and Johnny if they ever crossed paths in the movies. And I know that Harrison and Tom stopped interacting on social media so that Harrison could develop as an independent person and actor. And that's the right thing to do. Because there will be those who will say that he gets roles because of his friendship with Tom. It doesn't work that way, though. And I'm glad he took that route. And I really wish him luck and lots of good roles!

Your English is wonderful!

He said that The Irregulars put him into a new bracket of acting jobs in the last interview he did, and he's mentioned auditioning somewhat recently, too.

He's also gone to some acting workshops that posted photos of their participants on Instagram, as recently as this past week, so he's obviously still interested in acting and working on honing his craft.

However, at the moment, he seems to be heavily involved in promoting the rum brand he cofounded, HAMA. There have been events, and he's made at least one appearance at an unrelated event where he was photographed with a bottle. He also took photos while he was in New York City of him holding a bottle in a variety of locations.

I wonder if he was in the US for audition(s) then. I don't know how that works these days. The role he took in the anthology series that's coming out later this year had a completely virtual audition process. He mentioned his height being brought up by someone who met him in person for the first time and thought he'd be taller.

I'm more heavily leaning toward him being picky about what roles he auditions for and being involved with multiple ventures.

If he has auditioned or is auditioning for Johnny Storm, I'm sending him all the good vibes. He does have a lead role in a Netflix series under his belt, which isn't a small role like his role in Catch-22 was, so hopefully that will help get him in the door.

It would be really cool to see him on the big screen with Tom! I don't really go to see movies in theaters very often, and I would definitely go see that.

But I very much hope he finds happiness in whatever he ends up doing -- whether that be acting, being an entrepreneur, or something else entirely.