#most of us have to make writing sessions just so we can motivate each other now

[queenimmadolla]

A majority of the time, this fandom is straight Shit™ to the writers here. Readers are jerks to writers, writers are jerks to writers, there’s just no real winning. Positivity is preached but followed less than maybe 15% of the time. I know it’s not all of you but it’s an overwhelmingly large amount. I’d advise you to follow as many writers as you can right now because by the time summer is over, this fandom will have sent most of them packing, and there’s gonna be like 10 left.

And that’s gonna be really fucking sad considering how big, full of energy and nice this community used to be. Really fucking sad.

[mania-sama]

A Look into Mental Health: Jujutsu Kaisen Analysis

"Being a child is not a sin." (Nanami Kento, Jujutsu Kaisen)

With the release of Chapter 251, I've seen many horrible takes from dudebros saying that Megumi has "sold" the team. This makes me unreasonably angry because of course it does, so obviously my next plan of action is to take all of my hour-long rants about the mental health of JJK characters and put it here, where said dudebros will never see my (correct) analysis in their entire life. Oh well.

One thing Gege is really, really good at is creating believable, undeniably human, and complex characters. Every character has a different set of motivations, beliefs, ideals, and especially mental states. The constant theme of Jujutsu Kiasen has been "Strength vs Weakness". While the clearest interpretation can be seen through the physical attributes of the characters (Gojo being the strongest sorcerer of his time due to his abilities, and Miwa being one of the weakest, again, due to her abilities), it is also directly applied to the mental strength of characters. No two characters are able to withstand the same trauma and come out the exact same, just as no two real people can process the same trauma. Not only is it a result of nature, as people are genetically different and therefore process information differently, but a product of nurture - in other words, character motivation and environment.

This is where we come to the current state of the manga, Chapter 251. The fated Yuuji vs Megumi debate. I keep seeing people wildly misunderstanding these two, and why it's so important that Megumi isn't standing up to fight, why he isn't able to handle his trauma, when Yuuji can.

Gege writes phenomenal characters. And I want to express just how well done they are, making Jujutsu Kaisen actually kind of deserve its popularity, because some people only care about power scaling. I'm going to touch on Megumi last, because understanding all of the other characters' makes his visible struggle that much more impactful.

1. Geto Suguru

I want to start this mental health analysis with Geto. He is the best representation of depression I've ever seen in Shonen. It doesn't take a hundred chapters to showcase a character's downfall. It doesn't take a hundred significant events to cause a character to break down. Gege shows the best, realistic mental breakdown using only a handful of chapters, and still makes it slow and painful.

Depression can start because of a big event, but it doesn't take more for it to worsen. Untreated, depression runs a vicious course that eats a person through slowly but effectively. It isn't one screaming session, hands clutched over the head and cursing God and the world. It's everything piled onto each other. It's coming to the end of that pile and realizing that nothing will ever change.

This is Geto Suguru's story. He has a big event: the fight with Toji and the failure to save Riko. But his mental health journey was fated to decline, even without the fight and failure. The root issue of his depression came from his ability: Cursed Spirit Manipulation. As long as he kept devouring the embodiment of every vile, human emotion, the more he would lose himself to that vileness. He wasn't changing anything; he couldn't help but continue to swim in negativity because that's all he could do.

Gege wasn't making a commentary on Geto's ability. He was talking about people, as they are, and how staying in a bad situation will not always make you stronger. It can, and most likely will, make you worse. A direct comparison to the sixteen-year-old Geto would be a sixteen-year-old at school, surrounded by people who bully and pick on them with harsh words. The kid will eventually consume all of that bullying, all of that negativity, into their being, because there is simply nowhere else to go. School is mandatory; they can't just leave. They eventually feel isolated, with all that vileness piled on. Even if they have friends, those people could never understand what it's like to put up with humiliation and cruelty day after day.

It's not rational to push away a support system, but who said human beings are always rational? People make mistakes. They don't make the right decisions. Geto didn't. He saw someone offer him a chance at change, a possible light at the top of his pile and twisted it to match his overwhelming negativity. He left and swore to destroy the world that made him the way he is, just as that bullied child may turn away from school and society in whatever form that may take.

I want to touch on the physical aspects of Geto's depression, too. I noted this in a previous analysis I did on him (his character is just that amazing, what can I say?), but Gege knew that the mind can't be affected alone. Geto was drawn with deep eyebags, a nod to an inability to sleep or needing to sleep all the time. Depression makes you tired all the time. Everything becomes difficult. He sits with his back hunched, resting his weight on his knees, like sitting upright is too hard. When someone speaks to him, he blinks and takes a second too long to look over or respond, like speaking takes too much energy. To me, it even looked like he was becoming thinner. It's extremely difficult to maintain a schedule of exercise and mealtimes when your mind is fighting an active war against itself.

Again, a beautiful representation of depression. Geto means a lot to me in this aspect.

2. Gojo Satoru

In comparison to Geto, Gojo's horrible mental health is a lot subtler. Depression isn't the correct term, but you don't have to be depressed to be sad. Sadness is his stagnant state; he has moments of bliss, goals to work towards, a reason to keep going, to continue living, to continue chasing the sun over the horizon, but he does return to the same place he is always at when the lights turn off and he's painfully reminded of this one fact: he is isolated.

All of Gojo's problems start and end with isolation. From the moment he was born, everyone knew he was different. He knew he was different. Through glimpses of his childhood and honestly reading between the lines, it's obvious he never played with kids his age. People don't just develop a superiority complex with their only drive to be better than literally everyone else for no other reason than to get better. It comes from somewhere, and in Gojo's case, it's from his young childhood. It seriously messed him up; even now, he can't shake the lesson that "Strength is the only way to success and happiness".

This is what made Geto so important. Geto was somebody who could share the burden of being the strongest. Geto was someone his age who understood him in a way Shoko could not, though they both were able to see Gojo beyond his capabilities as a Jujutsu sorcerer. Gojo then had somebody to base his moral principles on. Because he couldn't connect with anybody else, he had no basis other than strength. Geto taught him why it was important for the strong to protect the weak.

Then everything went wrong. Gojo became isolated again in his strength and lost the only person who could plausibly stand with him. "Are you the strongest because you're Gojo Satoru, or are you Gojo Satoru because you're the strongest?" Gojo was young, then, and fresh-faced into his newfound godhood. He didn't kill Geto in that moment because he wanted to deny the claim that he is nothing without his strength, that he isn't as shallow as he was raised to be.

But he knew better. He grew older, he killed his best friend, and he realized that he was nothing without his strength. He never got over Geto. In order to cope with the guilt of being unable to save him when he left, he adopted a whole kid, thinking that if he wasn't strong enough to save Geto, maybe he could save Megumi. But there it is all over again - he never broke from the cycle of strength defining his worth. Saving Megumi would define his strength, right? It would prove Geto wrong, right? He raised Megumi under the same logic (that the only way to save his sister is to be strong), only ridding the boy of the crushing isolation.

In this way, Gojo isn't mentally weak. He didn't abandon society and everyone who loved him, instead choosing to hone the trauma of his isolated childhood into a weapon and teach the next generation to be better than himself. He isn't depressed, but he isn't happy. You can't be happy if you're alone all of the time. He hoped Megumi could be someone to stand by him, but in the end, he failed to save Megumi. His strength couldn't save him, just as it couldn't save Geto.

He isn't mentally strong. He isn't weak, either. He is horribly, painfully average. He's not weak enough to be saved, but not strong enough to save others. His childhood plagues him, but not to the point where it prevents him from living. He killed Geto but was unable to bury the body. Gojo is everything he never wanted to be.

As it turns out, strength can't buy you happiness. Gojo may have understood that, but he couldn't abandon it, even to the bitter end. Just as a human struggles to shed their conditioning. Not everyone can break the cycle, but we are always trying our best to work with what we've been dealt.

3. Okkotsu Yuuta

I'm putting Yuuta in between Gojo & Geto and Itadori & Megumi because he is, in a way, a bridge between the two. Geto and Gojo have lived their lives; their stories are complete and ended in tragedy. Itadori and Megumi's are not. They are still actively struggling and fighting their physical and mental battles; their stories have yet to be completed.

Yuuta's story isn't technically completed (ignoring everything that happened in the recent chapter with him for the sake of MY mental health), he is still a success story. He is the average protagonist who started from the bottom and ended up at the top. Only he, as Gege has done time and time again, has a slightly stronger focus on mental health than most other Shonen. He is success where Gojo & Geto failed, and the success that Itadori & Megumi are narratively striving for.

At the beginning, Yuuta was depressed and suicidal. He was bullied at school and involuntarily hurting others. Instead of becoming resentful of the world, he pushed all of the vileness inward. His guilt caused him to try to take his life, presumably multiple times, but Rika stopped him before he could succeed. His life was effectively out of his hands; he felt powerless with all of the bodies stacking around him, and he couldn't atone for "his" actions.

His mental health, as it was, was in shambles. Gojo then offered him a way forward. Yuuta's mental health did not improve overnight. It was when he made friends at Jujutsu High, and developed a support system, that he was able to relieve his anxiety and realize that life is not so bad after all. That all of this pain and suffering and loss - it will pass.

The most important thing to acknowledge when it comes to Yuuta is the sheer fact that he was not alone, nor did he allow himself to be alone. Unlike Gojo, who still had Shoko and Nanami after Geto left but refused to connect with them, Yuuta allowed himself to get close to those around him. They didn't know the suffering he'd undergone for so many years. They didn't know what it was like to be him, but that was okay. He knew that they had empathy, that even though they could never experience his life, they could still be there for him now when he falls.

When given the opportunity to surrender, Yuuta stands in the face of one Geto Suguru and swears to protect his friends and fight with Rika. He's so far removed from the boy who tried to kill himself at the beginning of the manga, and that's because he let himself be changed. He did not succumb. He had friends, he knew. People that would miss him if he left, and people whom he would regret leaving.

This stays consistent with his character. He doesn't let himself become isolated in his strength or his experiences. He's much stronger than everyone else in the room, he's a special grade and he knows that, but he still treats everyone like they are equals. Like they are his friends, like they are people who could share this burden of existence with him. This is something that Gojo couldn't accomplish, which lends to the fact that Gojo had a very off-hand teaching method when it came to mentoring Yuuta. Instead of influencing him under this idea of strength conquers all, he let Yuuta develop far away from the ideals of the Japanese Jujutsu Society.

And, in the end, the fact of him being physically strong - a special-grade sorcerer from the get-go - never helped him in his mental health. In fact, it made him miserable until he learned to get a handle on Rika. His winning or losing that fight with Geto wasn't the point of his character, it was reckoning with the fact that he is okay now. That he can embrace the ugly part of him with dignity instead of guilt.

4. Itadori Yuuji

Itadori's entire character is that he has an unbreakable spirit. As the only one who can bear the soul of Sukuna, he started off like Yuuta, only on the opposite end of the mental health spectrum. When we first see him, he's happy, spending his afternoons with the Occult Club and watching movies.

... What happened?

Like Geto, everything piled on very slowly. So slow that I'm not even sure he felt the true effects of everything he experienced up until the fall of Shibuya. It starts with the death of grandfather, whose parting words "Just save as many people as you can" haunt him even now during the final fight with Sukuna. He was never given time to properly grieve his grandfather, just as he never had time to grieve the brother curses, Junpei, Nanami, Nobara, Gojo, Higurama. At the end of it all, when the fighting is over, I have to wonder what will become of the boy that realizes he's lost most of the people he loved.

The one time he did try to process it, when he realized that he couldn't control Sukuna, was when he broke down in Shibuya. Sukuna leveled an entire city. For the boy who never wanted to kill another human being for fear of devaluing life, the weight of his weakness killing thousands was crushing. Then Nanami died. Nobara died (still hanging onto that unknown status but I digress). Both are right in front of him, and powerless to prevent Mahito from disintegrating their bodies. So, obviously, Itadori broke down. The boy with the unshakeable spirit, the only person who could contain the King of Curses, has his psyche completely shattered.

He laid on the ground, and he wouldn't have gotten back up if there wasn't somebody to help him, to be there with him. Todo pulled him back together, stitched back up the broken into somebody who has allies and people to fight for. Itadori has the success that Yuuta had, only Itadori did not come out of it with better mental health.

After the breakdown, his unshakeable spirit was nothing more than the will to keep fighting. He cares little for himself, and he tries to distance himself from people to prevent them from dying from his cursed hands. He is jumping, quickly, down the same rabbit hole that Geto fell down. One big event, and they realize just how tall the pile already is, and that it will never stop growing. Unlike Geto, however, he continues to get overbearing support from those around him. Against his will. He can't push them away, for they refuse to leave his side. Yuuta, Choso, Megumi, even Higurama. They won't let him fall. This makes him better off than someone alone, in a sense. He can withstand his trauma when others may not.

Even so, even so, there is only so much support, the lack of self-isolation, can do when the traumas keep actively repeating. When he says that he will gladly die to defeat Sukuna, it is not said with the same tone that another Shonen protagonist would say it. Take Naruto for example. If he were to go into a battle to protect, say, Sasuke, he would scream, "I'll die to protect him." We understand that his willpower is stronger than his self-preservation, but we don't get the idea that he actively wants to die. He'll die if he has to. Now, Itadori says the same thing, but about saving Megumi. He says, "I'll gladly die." There is something different. His willpower is leaps and bounds stronger than his self-preservation, but that's not only it. There is an undercurrent of severe suicidal ideation prevalent in Itadori's tone. It's not that he will die to win, it's that a part of him wants for this to be his final fight. For it all to be over. To save Megumi, then atone for the sin of being too weak to save Shibuya, or being unable to stop the Culling Games, or letting Megumi get hurt when all he wanted was to keep him safe.

I'd call it more along the lines of passive suicidal ideation. He doesn't plan to kill himself, but what would it mean for him to go into dangerous situations without protection? What would it mean for him to succumb to his wounds after he wakes Megumi's soul and kills Sukuna? To not even try to seek medical attention? He's guilty. He believes everything that happened in Shibuya and after is his fault. When faced with the executioner's sword, he was ready to die for his sins, if not for the goal of ending the Games. There is a fine line between willing to die for those you love versus wanting to die for those you love.

Right now, Itadori is fighting to save one person, like his grandfather said. He is not fighting to survive. And that's what people fail to understand about Itadori when they compare him to the other members of the cast. These power-scaling dudebros don't understand that their favorite OP main character has fallen apart at the seams, that his unshakeable spirit to save people doesn't include himself.

5. Fushiguro Megumi

Here we finally come to the question: Why can Itadori take it when Megumi can't? There is a very similar quote that you probably think of whenever you hear this question asked. It's from The Outsiders: "Dally is tougher than I am. Why can I take it when Dally can't?" The answer to this question that Ponyboy gives is the same we can attribute to Megumi. "And then I knew. Johnny was the only thing Dally loved. And now Johnny was gone."

The entire reason Megumi became a Jujutsu sorcerer was to protect his sister. When he was five years old and probably too young to understand most of the words Gojo said, he accepted the offer of training to become a sorcerer in exchange for Tsumiki's happiness. Every day, he fought to protect her. He only had one goal in entering the Culling Games: to prevent Tsumiki from having to participate.

It's easy to attribute Megumi's constant attempts at summoning Mahoraga to a lack of will to live - suicidal ideation, the same that Itadori now experiences. On one hand, I do understand that he has a fundamental lack of care for his own life, but on the other, I don't think that he intends to throw it all away every single time. He just didn't know any better. Ignorance can lead to death as easily as intentionally seeking it out. That's why he changes his habit after Gojo gives him a lesson in risking death versus dying to win; Megumi still has someone to live for, after all.

Megumi's mental health was already rocky from the start. Not that it was in shambles like Yuuta, but he wasn't fully stable. Like a lot of teenagers, he's moody, somewhat reclusive, and only really likes one or two people maximum. Teenagers aren't known for their sunshine mental health anyway.

Megumi was given time to grieve Itadori after he first died. This trauma of losing him in front of his eyes stuck with him, but he was allowed a grace period of two months to grieve with Nobara. He experienced Shibuya, too, but he still had that one important person to protect. His mental health was alright at this point, all things considered. As long as his sister was alive, he would be fine.

Sukuna knew this. So Sukuna killed Tsumiki using only the Ten Shadows Teqchnique. The one person Megumi spent his whole life dedicated to, was killed by his own cursed technique, his own failure to suppress Sukuna.

In the void of his soul, Megumi was alone. Truly, utterly alone. The only person nearby was Sukuna, the murderer of his sister, the murderer of thousands upon thousands of people. He drowned in the ceremonial bath of crushed curses to hold his soul down in the depths of despair, literally drenched in all of the vileness the world has to offer. Sukuna killed Gojo using Mahoraga's adaption ability, and before that, Megumi was forced to take several of Gojo's mind-altering domain expansions.

Already, he had given up. He gave up when his sister died, but the rest ground a pointed spur into his neck. When Itadori shakes his soul, Megumi is repeating, "That's enough." He was at the end of his rope a long time ago. What more is there to keep living for? He doesn't want to live with the blood of his sister, the blood of the man who practically raised him, and the blood of countless others drenching his hands.

Sukuna killed all of these people, not Megumi. But then, Sukuna killed of those people in Shibuya, not Itadori. Why can Itadori take it? Why can he keep fighting when Megumi lays broken on the ground? Itadori wasn't alone. And Megumi has never been known for his unshakeable spirit. That is the one thing that Itadori can hold over everybody else, the one trait that everyone admires. He was born to shoulder the burden of the world. Megumi wasn't. Megumi wants to die. He is not passively suicidal, for he has no goals left to complete, a plan to die within the body no longer inhabited alone. He is suicidal. He would drive a stake through his heart if it meant relieving his pain. He doesn't want to do it anymore. He's had enough.

And Itadori was in this position once, too? Perhaps not as directly, but he was there. Here is the moment that the protagonist gives the motivating speech to will someone to keep fighting, that life is worth living. I realized today that this is not something Itadori has done yet. He hasn't had a grand speech that's not been about his own willpower. He's never encouraged someone else to keep living in the way that you would expect from the main character. This is his moment, I suppose. He needs to be the person for Megumi that Todo was for him. He has to show Megumi that he isn't alone.

He needs to save Megumi when, all those years ago, Gojo couldn't save Geto.

I don't think some of this fanbase understands how horrible Gege has to be at writing if he just. Let Megumi get up to fight in Chapter 251. All this time, he has shown how Megumi has been defeated. He showed him crumbled on the ground, unmoving. It shouldn't be a surprise that all of the measures Sukuna took to ensnare Megumi's soul worked. Megumi is suicidal after the people he loves have all died because of his technique. God forbid a sixteen-year-old is unable to cope with his trauma alone.

Honorable Mentions:

There are a lot more characters in this story that represent/show mental illness that I didn't go into depth on but are worth mentioning. It was easier to only talk about the major characters since we spend so much time with them and I can fully flesh out everything that should/can be said about them. Anyway, here are a few more that are notably well-written in their mental struggles:

Yoshino Junpei. His story arc follows very similarly to Geto, except he is the bullied student I was making a reference to. Depressed, alone with a mother whose habits he can't stand, he turned to someone he thought could provide him a better life. Interestingly, he is a good representation of the type of children that tend to be groomed. That's surely what happened to him. Mahito used him, then discarded him for his own gains.

Ieiri Shoko. Her main struggle can be seen through her smoking habits. She's been through a lot, lost so many people, and has to keep healing sorcerers only for them to die. Eventually, she was able to come to terms with this. She kicked her smoking habit at the same time she kicked the vicious mental cycle of caring too much about the patient on her table. It's no wonder she picked up a cigarette, for the first time in a while, when Geto led the phantom parade.

Zenin Maki. She works as a very good contrast to Megumi. They both lost their sisters, the people they loved the most, but she turned all of her grief to killing the Zenin clan and gaining Heavenly Restriction. But this, this is because she could do so. There is simply nothing Megumi can do as a soul trapped in his own body. Her grief made her stronger, while for most, it made them weaker.

Inumaki Toge. He isn't seen a lot, but his story is ultimately quite compelling. A boy who hurt many when he was young. He turned his guilt into kindness, a will to protect. He tends a garden to raise plants healthily, for God's sake. He's one of the examples that shows Yuuta that your past actions don't define you, but instead, what you choose to do going forward.

I am not proofreading any of this before I post it. Sorry if it is borderline unreadable with spelling / grammatical errors.

[be4chywritez]

Please, can you do a part 2 of the winner takes it all of nico hischier something about her going to the stadium series or him talking about her to the press like really proving the couple goals to everyone.

Pd i love your writing🥰

thank you lovey🤍

supportive boyfriend | nico hischier

nico hischier x driver!reader

beachy’s masterlist

part l

beachy’s notes: THIS IS NOT PROOFREAD so if you see two of the same paragraphs no you didn’t ( i popped in an edible)

Nico adjusts his hair from his face, still damp from the quick post-game shower he took. Reporters surround him, and he really doesn’t want to be cooped up in a stall answering these questions.

Less than 24 hours ago, he watched you win the world championship, and now he’s here, but his mind keeps wandering back to you. He loves how you would go to the ends of the earth just to support him. You’re so selfless; most world champions would party all night, but not you. You got on a flight to come support him, even though it was a tough loss. He knew you would tell him how good he played.

A PR officer gives him a nod, queuing him to start answering questions. He responds to what feels like the same question in different formats, giving fake chuckles to the jokes that some of the reporters make. But then someone asks about you, and anyone with a brain could tell how much he loves you.

“Nico, we didn’t see you arrive with the team. Why is that?”

He straightens up, an involuntary smile making its way to his face. “Um, my partner is a Formula One racer, and I went to see her win the championship.” He doesn’t want to sound braggy, but who wouldn’t? His girlfriend is a world champion.

Another reporter asks, “How does that dynamic work? You both travel quite a bit.”

Nico’s smile widens, and his eyes light up. “It’s definitely challenging, but we make it work because we understand and support each other’s dreams. We both know what it’s like to be passionate about our careers, and we make sure to be there for each other, no matter what. Like yesterday, I was in the stands cheering her on, and today, she’s here supporting me. It’s all about finding balance and making time for what really matters.”

The reporters seem genuinely interested, leaning in as Nico continues. “We’re each other’s biggest fans. After a tough game or a challenging race, we always find a way to lift each other up. It’s not always easy, but having someone who truly understands and supports you makes all the difference.”

A reporter at the back chimes in, “Do you think having such a high-profile relationship adds pressure?”

Nico shakes his head slightly. “Not really. If anything, it gives us more strength. We’re both very focused and driven, and having someone who knows what that’s like is incredible. We don’t see it as pressure; we see it as motivation. And at the end of the day, we’re just two people who love each other and want to see each other succeed.”

The PR officer wraps up the session, and as Nico makes his way out.

As he walked out, he spotted you immediately, standing outside the locker room with a warm, encouraging smile on your face.

You were bundled up in your Mercedes-AMG Petronas jacket, a stark contrast to the casual clothes he had changed into. Your eyes lit up when you saw him, and you quickly closed the distance between you.

“Nico!” you exclaimed, throwing your arms around him. He hugged you tightly, finding warmth in your embrace despite the disappointment of the game.

“You made it,” he said, holding you close. “Thank you for coming all this way.”

You shrugged, your smile never fading. “Of course, I did. I wanted to be here to support you, win or lose.”

He nodded, grateful for your unwavering support. “Let’s get out of here,” he suggested gently. “I could use some time with you.”

You nodded in agreement, intertwining your fingers with his as you walked together through the hallway and out to the parking lot. The drive back to your shared apartment was filled with a comfortable silence, hanging between you.

When you arrived home, Nico unlocked the door and held it open for you with a small smile. The apartment was quiet and welcoming, a stark difference from the noise and pressure of the game. You kicked off your shoes by the door, feeling the tension begin to melt away.

Nico moved to the kitchen, pulling out ingredients for a simple dinner. “How about we make some pasta?” he suggested, turning to you with a hopeful look.

You chuckled softly. “Sounds perfect.”

-

After dinner, you cleaned up together, it was in these quiet moments that your bond felt strongest, the shared routines and unspoken gestures speaking volumes.

Nico washed the dishes while you dried, stealing glances and exchanging small smiles. When the last plate was put away, you turned to him with a soft smile.

“Thank you for dinner,” you said sincerely, reaching out to touch his arm.

He nodded, his eyes meeting yours. “Thank you for being here. It means more than you know.”

You leaned into him, resting your head against his shoulder. “We’ll get through this,” you murmured, your voice filled with assurance.

Nico wrapped his arms around you, holding you close. “Together,” he agreed softly. “Always.”

-

The rest of the evening passed in comfortable companionship, watching a movie together on the couch and enjoying each other’s company. As the night grew late, you found yourselves curled up under a blanket, the quiet of the apartment soothing and familiar.

“You know,” Nico said suddenly, breaking the silence. “Even on the toughest days, having you here makes everything better.”

You smiled, brushing a strand of hair from his face. “I feel the same way. We’re in this together, no matter what.”

He nodded, his gaze softening. “I love you,” he whispered, his voice barely above a whisper.

“I love you too,” you replied, your heart swelling with warmth.

Nico leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. His lips trailed down to yours, capturing them in a deep, passionate kiss.

The kiss deepened, Nico's hands roamed your back, pulling you closer, his touch igniting a fuzzy feeling in your lower stomach.

When you finally pulled away, breathless and flushed, Nico's eyes held a hunger that mirrored your own. He gazed at you with adoration, his hand caressing your cheek.

"You drive me crazy," he murmured, his voice husky with desire.

You chuckled softly, your heart pounding. "You're not so bad yourself."

Nico kissed you again, softer this time, a silent promise of love and devotion. You melted into his arms, the world outside fading away as you lost yourselves in each other.

[tired-teacher-blog]

hi teach! how are you? i'm kinda new to your account and i gotta say i adore your writing 😌✨

is it okay if i request any spicy and relationship headcanons for best jeanist? i can barely find any content of him lately 😔

if you don't write for jeanist it's okay! i hope you have a great day/night! ♡ (ps: thanks for the follow🥺)

Hi baby ❤️ your words are making me incredibly happy, you have no idea! And you're absolutely right, there is barely anything out there written for him so let's change that shall we? 😍

Relationship headcanons

Characters : Best jeanist/ Gender neutral reader

Genre : Fluff/ Suggestive themes/ Headcanons

Please do not read if you're a minor

Masterlist|Second Masterlist

SFW :

Meeting the pro hero for the very first time, you were instantly captivated by his flamboyant personality and alluring appearance, however, his eccentricity was a bit too much for you to handle, which was why you kept a little distance between you two, and settled for admiring him from afar.

That was until you learned more about him, and understood that underneath that charming surface, lays a selfless and brave man, one who strives to spread peace and serenity among civilians, even at the expense of his own safety -like a real hero should do-.

When you finally gathered up the courage to confess your newly discovered feelings for him, you were met with a concealed smile from underneath his ridiculously high collar, he was pleasantly surprised to learn about your sentiments and fervently confessed his own.

Being with him is a literal adventure, he is mesmerizing and does everything passionately which is exciting. He is straightforward, and you love that about him.

He has always been proud of you, cheering you on and motivating you to follow your dreams no matter how tough things get.

He talks about you all the time, he just manages to find a way to slip your name into any conversation he's having, no matter if serious or casual said conversation is, he's just smitten and never gets bashful to show it.

You love shopping dates with him, he just has the best taste in clothes and you end up with amazing pieces of garments each and every time.

In addition, he makes you try them out for him once you're home, like a little fashion show just for his eyes. He enjoys your excitement and the little twirls you do in order for him to have a good look at the way they fit you, and he finds himself unable to keep his hands and lips away from you, turning your fitting session into a make out one, -or something even spicier-.

You are his confidant(e) and he trusts you with his life, keeping nothing hidden from you, and seeking your advice when things get tough.

NSFW :

He's so vocal during your intimate times, and body worship is his thing! He enjoys praising you while his lips and fingers cover every inch of your skin. He usually uses fabric related descriptions to address you during those moments, such as: soft, elegant, firm, silky, shiny, velvety, luxurious.

He has an extremely sensitive neck, something you always use to your advantage, because just a simple touch of your fingertips to his skin can bring the most delicious groans out of his mouth. And you usually don't stop at that, adding your lips and teeth to the mix and relishing the goosebumps appearing under your touch.

He goes nuts when you put on a sexy lingerie set for him, not only because of how alluring and enticing you would look, but also because of the way his fingers glide along the delicate fabric before reaching your flesh.

He is passionate and extremely gentle with you, he never does anything hurriedly and always asks how you're feeling before taking the next step. You communicate well and tell each other instantly if one of you wishes to take things slower, or do them harder and faster.

His mouth can do wanders, wether he's kissing your lips, nibbling on your earlobe, sucking on your neck or teats, plunging his tongue into the wetness between your legs, you are always writhing and shuddering and begging for more. And it's vice versa, because you -too- get to witness his aroused expression and needy pleas everytime the roles are reversed.

@battydora

[jasntodds]

Caving In [14]

Pairing: Gar Logan x Fem!Powered!Reader, Jason Todd x Fem!Powered!Reader

Words: 7,539

Chapter Warnings: Swearing, angst, depression (canon, Jason), the roof scene is in this chapter and reader is the one who finds him so, the Titans being assholes, mentions of a burn

Summary: ❝Tell me Atlas: What is heavier, The world or its people’s hearts?❞ You never expected your life to end up this way, turned upside down by an infamous Gotham villain. It’s been a living hell, every single day, until Dick Grayson brings you to Titans tower where you meet Gar Logan and Jason Todd.

A/N: So, I finished writing the rest of this book and have started the next one which I also have had almost entirely plotted out this whole time and I’m excited lol I am easily motivated to post more often when I get feedback 😂 You can add yourself to the tag list below, ask me to be tagged, or you can follow my library blog @jasntoddslibrary​ and turn on notifications if you prefer that!!

series masterlist | masterlist | tag list

As the morning goes by, you and Gar spend most of it in the living room. You ate your breakfast together, far earlier than ever intended but it was kind of nice because it was just the two of you. The rest of the Titans were still asleep and Jason only came by to pluck a pancake off of your plate before going back to his room. You and Gar do spend enough time alone but not having anyone else up, besides Jason, is really nice. You just get to be around each other without knowing that someone is going to interrupt or you'll have some type of training session to get to. It's nice and comforting.

One by one, the Titans get up, Dick being the first one and he's surprised to see the two of you awake and in the living room so early, especially you. You’re not an early riser. He doesn't ask questions though and hopes it's because you had trouble sleeping and not because you and/or Jason were up to something that Gar had to talk you out of. He just lets you be while you and Gar have a rewatch of The Walking Dead.

"I'd totally survive the apocalypse." You let out a sigh as you turn on the fifth episode.

Gar lets out a laugh beside you. "You could survive anything at this point."

"Right? Probably don't even have to try." You turn to face Gar. "Okay, if the apocalypse happens," You start and Gar raises his brows at you, intrigued where this is going. "Do you think it'll be like Walking Dead, Zombieland, The Last Of Us, or Love and Monsters?"

Gar lets out a breath, looking to the ceiling before looking back to you. He's definitely thought about this. "Walking Dead or The Last Of Us, both of those seem realistic."

You let out a booming laugh. "True! That would be the most likely scenario, even in a world with metahumans."

"It's also better than Zombieland zombies that can run."

"I know! That makes the whole thing a bit more terrifying." You shake your head. "But, I hope we end up with Love and Monsters because I mean, giant animals."

"That would be ideal." Gar gestures towards himself.

"A green tiger would be very normal."

"Exactly!"

Your laughter subsides and you fall into a comfortable silence. Gar resituates and guilt eats away at your bones. He winces when he moves and you figure it's because his side hurts. You swear you'll be apologizing for it every single day until you both die. You’re very grateful for him though because he is very understanding of it. You think most people would have dropped you, wanted nothing to do with you, and wouldn't trust you anymore. But, not Gar. You’ve already apologized several times since it happened and Gar has been telling you that it's okay and he's okay with a kind smile. You’ve said it before and you'll probably always think it, Gar is unfathomably kind.

"Are you sure you're okay?" You ask, guilt coating your words.

"I'm positive." Gar chuckles softly. "I'm fine."

You nod softly. "I'm still really fucking sorry."

"It's okay." Gar urges you before taking a drink of the Gatorade. "It was an accident."

"I know." You let out a sigh. "But, I'll probably be trying to make it up to you for...the rest of our lives." You laugh softly.

"You don't have to. Rachel nearly took my hand off and I'm fine."

"She...what?" You pause.

Rachel even accidentally attacking Jason makes sense. Jason pushes her buttons more than anyone so if she were going to snap, it would be on Jason. But Gar? What could Gar have possibly done?

"Yeah, I woke her up when you guys got kidnapped. Her cloud of razor blades attacked me."

"Okay, that's not fair. How are you the one getting hurt by us?" You groan. "I'm really sorry and I'm sorry I didn't know."

You were a little preoccupied with being kidnapped and tortured and then nearly dying and nearly losing Jason. You not noticing is excusable but that doesn’t stop you from feeling guilty about it. Gar was still hurt and you should have noticed. Gar would have noticed if the roles were reversed.

"You were kidnapped and then dropped from a skyscraper. I think not knowing is acceptable." Gar chuckles.

"Yeah, that's true." You shrug a shoulder. "Still, I'm sorry." You scrunch your nose. "So, whatever you need, let me know and I will get the thing." You declare, your voice confident.

"You're not gonna budge on that, are you?"

"Nope." You let out a laugh.

Your conversation gets interrupted by an alert coming from the intercom system. The two of you look at each other with confused expressions before getting up to see who's at the door. Everyone you both know is already at the tower, besides Dick, he left out of nowhere, but he doesn't need the intercom system to come up.

When Gar hits the button for the video and sound feeds on the intercom, you both see a woman with strawberry blonde hair looking a little panicked.

“My name is Eve Watson and I’m looking for someone who I think might be here.” She says, voice panicky and rushed.

You give Gar a shrug as he looks to you.

“Maybe you should go get Kory.” Gar whispers and you nod before running off to get Kory.

Someone showing up, in general, seems a little weird. You’ve been at the tower for three months and no one besides Uber Eats drivers ever show up at the tower. But, somehow this random woman knew you had weird flying guy? That seems a little off.

You find Kory in the room with the mystery guy, talking with him while he’s still unconscious.

“Uh…Kory?”

“Hmm?” Kory looks over to you. “What’s going on?”

“There’s some woman here?” You question. “Gar is talking to her through the intercom. She says her name is Eve Watson and she thinks she’s looking for someone here.” You look from Kory to the mystery guy before looking back to Kory.

“Okay.” Kory nods carefully as she gets up. “Let’s go then.”

Kory and you make your way back down the hall and back to Gar.

“Is there someone named Conner there?” You and Kory hear Eve say through the intercom just as you approach.

“Let her up.” Kory says and Gar takes a second look at Kory, almost to be unsure about it but he does as told.

The woman comes up through the elevator, Gar, you, and Kory waiting for her to come up. When she does, she has a white dog with pointy ears walking beside her. It’s in that moment, you trust her.

You’ve always wanted a dog but your mom would never let you get one. They’re a big responsibility and you didn’t have a lot of money. With your mom being a vet, it always seemed strange you didn’t have a pet. You understood the reasoning but it did not stop you from asking every birthday for a dog. But, now, there is a dog right in front of you and you haven’t been able to pet a dog since you were uprooted from Gotham. This is the best thing that’s happened in two weeks.

“She has a dog.” You whisper to Gar.

Gar chuckles softly. “She said the dog lead her here?”

“Oh, so a smart dog.” You smile almost visibility vibrating next to him.

“Are you okay?”

“Love dogs.”

“You think we have Conner?” Kory asks.

“It sounds crazy, but the dog led me here.” Eve explains. “Tall, dark hair, looks like Superman.” Even lets out a sigh.

“Come with me.” Kory jerks her head towards the hallway.

Your smile falls as you watch the dog follow the women down the hallway and Gar lets out a laugh.

“Why don’t you go with them? I was gonna take a nap anyway.” 

“Are you sure? We could finish--”

“Go see if you can pet the dog.” Gar continues to laugh. “I’ll catch up later, wake me up before they leave though. I also want to meet the dog.” Gar beams and you laughs, nodding quickly before darting down the hallway.

You follow the women to Conner’s room, Kory noticing you. Kory doesn’t say anything though, figuring maybe you want to offer some help. After what happened with Deathstroke, Kory is willing to let you hang around for right now if you want to help. While Kory agrees that allowing any of the new Titans to go after Dr. Light would have been a bad idea, you sympathizes with you and Jason.

You reach the room and Eve sits down on the bed beside the mystery guy who’s still unconscious. The dog sits on the floor beside Eve and while the women talk, you stick your hand out for the dog to sniff you. The dog doesn’t seem bothered so you sit on the floor and cautiously pet his head. A giant smile plasters itself across your face as you pet the dog, now listening to the women talk about how Eve created Conner and how he ended up here. She goes on about how he’s going to die unless they can bring the sun directly to Conner. But, this is Kory. So, she has an idea and goes off to grab Rachel.

“So, you like….created him?” You ask, still petting the dog.

“Yeah.” Eve lets out a sigh.

“That’s pretty cool.” You state.

“It’s dangerous.”

“Yeah,” You sigh. “Having powers in a world like this seems to be. But, like, he’s half Superman and Kory will fix him so…pretty cool.” You nod your head. “What’s his name?”

“The dog?” Eve asks and you nods excitedly. “Krypto.”

“Krypto.” You smile looking at the dog. “I love dogs. Is it okay that I’m petting him? He didn’t seem to mind and you were talking.”

“Yeah, it’s okay.” Eve laughs softly.

“Hey, uh, you know, Conner saved my best friend.” You explain.

“He did? How?”

You shrug. “Dunno, exactly, I was dangling for my life but from what I’ve heard firsthand and what everyone else said, my friend was falling from a fifteen-story skyscraper and Conner came out of nowhere, jumped on a car and caught him mid-air.” Eve watches you carefully. “Look, I’m just saying you feel guilty and shit but had you found him earlier, it’s possible my friend would have died so I don’t think you should feel guilty about it.”

“He could die and that’s my fault. I created him and didn’t help enough.”

“No, you said that you helped him escape. They were gonna use him as a weapon, probably. You helped him and Kory is gonna save him. She’s a badass, trust me. So, you did good.” You offer her a kind smile.

“Thank you.” Eve says softly before looking back to Conner.

After a few minutes, Kory comes back with Rachel and she directs you, Eve, and Krypto to wait outside of the room. You sit right back down with Krypto, petting him while Kory gets Conner out of the bed and holds him up. She warns you it might get a little bit warm before asking Rachel if she’s ready. Rachel is a little uncertain and so are you.

Rachel has a hard time controlling her powers and you don’t really know why Kory trusts her so much to keep them in check right now. But, you trust Kory so there has to be a reason. Rachel uses her powers and her black and purple smoke surrounds Kory and Conner while Kory turns into a ball of fire. Your jaw nearly hits the floor as you watch.

“What…the…fuck.” You mutter and Eve has the same expression. “Sick.” You’re awestruck look turns into one of amazement and a giant smile comes to your face.

When Rachel brings her power back in, Kory stops and Conner is awake again. This definitely goes down in one of the coolest things you’ve ever witnessed and you find yourself having a little more respect for Rachel. Rachel always spoke so highly of Kory and maybe this is one of the reasons. Kory believes in Rachel enough to trust her to use her powers and not kill her. Not that you think Rachel could but it’s the trust that’s there and maybe that’s the whole issue with the tower right now. You, Gar, and Jason trust each other. But, Jason and you don’t trust Dick very much. Rachel doesn’t trust Jason and you think she doesn’t trust you very much because of your close proximity to Jason. The only person everyone collectively trusts is Gar but that doesn’t make for a very good team and you wonders if the Titans will ever work because of that.

Kory, Rachel, and you leave Eve, Conner, and Krypto to themselves, going your separate ways so they can talk. You head towards Gar’s room to tell him what just happened but his door is still shut and you know if he were awake, the door would be open. After last night, you do not want to wake him up so, you head two doors down to Jason’s room. You knock but then open the door, finding Jason standing in front of his windows, just looking out.

“Jay?” You call but he doesn’t even move. You walk beside him, looking from his eyes to the windows and then back to him. “Jason?” You wave your hand in front of his face and that seems to break him out f his trance.

“Fuck, yeah?” Jason jumps, spinning to you.

“You alright?” You ask, brows furrowed and the excitement you just felt vanishes and you worry about your best friend again.

“Yeah, what?” Jason snips and you narrows your eyes.

“You were just standing here…looking at the window?”

“You got a problem with that or something?” Jason snips again.

“Oh, snippy today.” You roll your eyes and walk over to one of his chairs, Jason shaking his head in confusion.

“Sure, make yourself comfortable.”

“I usually do.” You chortle. “Wanna know what just happened?” You ask, dropping the conversation about him because he doesn’t want to talk about it and you’re not gonna push him. Not today because maybe you owe him that much for last night.

Jason sighs and turns to face you. “Sure?”

“So, some woman shows up because of the guy that saved you and turns out, dude is named Conner and he is half fucking Superman and Lex Luther.” Your eyes nearly bug out of your head and Jason’s eyes widen.

“You’re fucking lying.”

“I could not make this shit up!” You exclaim. “So, she shows up and she’s got this dog with her who’s really cute. I got to pet him.” You beam and Jason finds it cute that you got sidetracked by the dog not the whole Superman and Lex Luthor thing. “So, in order to wake up Conner, Kory grabbed Rachel and turned into a ball of fire while holding Conner and Rachel used her powers to like keep it contained.” You ramble. “I know you don’t like Rachel or her powers but dude, it was the coolest shit I have ever seen.” You beam. “And Conner’s awake. Like, it worked.”

“He’s awake? From that?”

“Yeah, I guess it was something with kryptonite, that’s what he was shot with.” You explain.

“That’s…”

“Sick, right?” You ask.

“Yeah, that’s fucking sick. So, a ball of fire just wakes him up from a coma?”

“Guess so.” You laugh. “And there’s a dog.”

“You said that.” Jason chortles. “Didn’t realize you were a dog person?”

“Do I seem like a cat person to you?” You quip.

Jason laughs. “You're into Gar who turns into a fucking tiger.”

You pause before narrowing your eyes. "Yeah, but that's different. Tigers are not house cats." You hold your up and Jason shake his head at you. “So, it was super cool and I had to tell someone about it.”

“Gar not wanting to listen?” Jason quips.

“He’s napping, after last night I figured I’d let him nap.” You explain.

Jason nods just once. “How’d it go? After I left my own fucking room for you guys.”

Jason mostly asks because he wants to know if you both actually talked about your feelings or if you backed out of it. He figured Gar wouldn’t but he thought maybe you would. You didn’t seem too confident in your answer to Jason last night. You back out of a lot of the games you two play so he thought maybe you’d back out of telling Gar. He doesn’t hope for that though.

“Uh..." You furrow your brows. "It went, I guess. He's not mad at me or anything. He's being understanding, ya know?” You smile shyly.

"Did you tell him?" Jason asks, more or less digging for answers.

You pause for just a second, thinking about playing the game. But, then you think about how that would be unfair. You both made your decisions.

"No..." You let out a scoff. "It did not seem like the right time and..." You shrug, hiding more of the reason because you’d not about to tell Jason the reason you didn't tell Gar is because you like him. "I don't want him to feel obligated to tell me the same thing because I said it. I'll tell him eventually." You shrug it off and turn the question back to him. “You’ve been hanging out with Rose a lot…?” You question.

Jason gains a goofy grin. “She kissed me last night.” Jason announces.

“She what?” You nearly yell and you can feel the burning start in the very pit of your stomach. Definitely not jealousy.

Jason shrugs. “Yeah,” He has this cocky smile as he licks his lips.

You don’t need to know that Rose kissed him and then Jason put a stop to it like how he did with you last week. You don’t need to know that little bit of information.

“You really like her?” You ask, the slightest bit of snark in your voice that Jason absolutely catches.

Jason shrugs again. “Think so.” Jason laughs softly because he can’t have you. But, he likes Rose enough. He could like her more if he gave her a fair shot. Rose is different. Jason can’t break or hurt her. Deathstroke took care of that. And Gar isn’t into Rose.

“Good, I hope she makes you happy. She’s pretty cool.” Your words taste sour on your tongue but you swallow your pride anyway. You do want him to be happy. Jason deserves to be happy.

“Yeah, thanks.” Jason chuckles softly. “She got mad though, like right after.”

“What, why? You’re not that bad of a kisser.” You tease him, trying your best to brush it off.

“Shut the fuck up.” Jason groans, but there's still a hint of his cocky grin pulling at his lips. “I borrowed Dick’s records, he had one with her brother’s name on it. She freaked out on me.” The smirk falls as he shakes his head, brows knitted together.

“That’s weird.” Your brows furrow. “Have you talked to her about it?”

“Told her I didn’t know about it, think we’re alright now. But I didn’t even know she had a brother.”

“Seems getting information out of her is like getting information out you. Pulling teeth.” You chuckle softly. “I don’t know that is weird though.”

“Yeah.” Jason lets out a sigh but before either of you can continue the conversation, Rachel comes barging in.

Rachel storms right up to Jason and starts yelling. “How fucked up are you?” She yells, your eyes widen. “All you do is give people a reason to hate you!”

Jason just stares at her. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“The crosses on my mirror!”

“Still don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about.” Jason’s voice is flat but Rachel doesn’t believe him.

Her eyes turn red as she shoves his shoulder. “Don’t fucking lie to me!” Her voice is lower and freaky with the shove.

“What the fuck?” You jump up from your seat on his chair, moving to stand in between them. "Leave him alone." You grit your teeth and you don't want to do this today. Why is she even blaming Jason?

Jason pauses for a second. He's not going to stand here and be blamed for something he didn't even do. He's been in his room since he got done training two hours ago. “I’m sick of this shit.” Jason mutters, grabbing his jacket and storming out of the room.

“Literally, what the fuck, Rachel?” You stare at her, fists balled at your sides but just for a second before you follow Jason, Rachel right behind you.

You’re questioning the universe right about now. You desperately want to know why either of you can’t seem to catch a fucking break. Seriously, what could either of you have possibly done to piss the universe off so badly? Especially Jason. He actually hasn’t done a single thing and yet he keeps getting dealt these hands and now Rachel is jumping down his throat. It’s ridiculous.

You and Rachel follow Jason into the living area where Dawn, Hank, and Kory are.

“Don’t fucking walk away from me!” Rachel screams past you.

“SHUT UP!” You scream, trying to catch up to Jason.

“Woah, hey, what’s happening?” Dawn asks from her seat at the snack bar.

“Jason drew crucifixes all over my mirror!” Rachel points her finger at Jason standing ten feet away from him while you’re smack in the middle as you all come to a halt.

“Bullshit!” Jason looks at Rachel.

“Jason, it’s okay if you’re angry.” Dawn says as she approaches the three of you.

“I didn’t do shit, okay?” Jason’s voice sounds desperate this time. “Look, don’t blame me for her voodoo issues.” Jason says as Donna walks in from behind him.

“What’s up with all the drama?” Donna asks as she stands next to Dawn.

“Someone drew crosses on Rachel’s mirror and she thinks Jason did it.” Dawn explains keeping her voice kind and calm as usual.

“I know he did it.” Rachel declares.

“No, he didn’t, Rachel!” You interject. “You’ve just got fucking problems with him so you’re first fucking response is to blame him.” You roll your eyes and cross your arms.

“Cute idea with the Bourbon bottle.” Hank starts, making his way towards the older women. “Not my type though. I’m more of a Sour Mash guy.” Hanks says, this time Jason and you looking at him with confusion having no idea what he’s even talking about. “You ever go into my room and pull that shit again, I’ll forget what team you’re on.”

“Why Jason?” Donna asks.

You let out a huff. You can’t believe you’re listening to them blame him for absolutely no reason. And when you look to Jason, he looks completely heartbroken and devastated. He has no idea what they’re even talking about. You don't think you'll forgive any of them for the look on Jason's face right now. And the fact none of them even see it, makes the whole thing that much worse.

“I don’t know what happened, guys but I-I didn’t do it.” Jason says, his voice defeated. You’ve never heard him stutter before.

“What about the picture of Elis?” Dawn asks.

“The orange soda bottle?” Donna asks, everyone pointing fingers at Jason.

“He did it to you guys, too?” Rachel asks.

“Fuck this.” Jason huffs, ready to leave the conversation.

“Hey,” Hank yells. “We’re not done here, kid.”

“You people are insane!” Jason yells, his eyes turning glossy. “I’d rather be with Deathstroke than you assholes.” Jason pauses and you can see his heart literally breaking. “You guys think everything is my fault.”

There it is. He can’t do it anymore. Even though he didn’t do anything, it’s still somehow his fault. He didn’t mean for the Deathstroke thing to happen. It was an accident and he’s the one that suffering the consequences but they’re all blaming him. They’re blaming him for this stuff he doesn’t even understand. What would an orange pop have to do with anything? The Titans have been on edge this whole time and Jason’s beginning to think it’s him. Maybe if he weren’t around, the Titans would be fine. Maybe they would all get along. They definitely would not be having this argument right now. All of this is his fault and he can’t do it anymore.

“Why is that?” You snap your attention to the older Titans and position yourself to be standing with your back towards Jason, drawing your own line in the sand. “He clearly didn’t fucking do it and none of you even suspected him until Rachel decided to fucking lose it.”

“Because I know he did it!” Rachel screams.

“Why would he do it, Rachel?” You screams over her. You’re going to lose your mind, you can feel it.

“He hates me, Y/n! Unless you’re too blind to see that!”

“You almost fucking killed him! Of course, he hates you!” You fight back, catching Rachel off guard. You will throw her under the bus. She’s gonna throw Jason under the bus, you’ll the same to her.

“You did what?” Kory asks.

“Yeah? In training, she lost fucking control and almost fucking killed him. Lifted him ten feet into the air, aimed a bunch of swords at him.”

“He hit me when I was down!”

“We were all blindfolded for fuck's sake! He didn't even hit you that hard!” It's in this moment, you’re positive Jason has always been right about Rachel because this is actual insanity.

Gar comes from one of the hallways looking exhausted. “Can’t a guy get some sleep?” His voice is drowsy and you glance to him.

“No, because everyone in the tower has literally lost their damn minds! They’re blaming Jason for some fucking bullshit!” You throw your arm out towards the older Titans.

“You’re always on his side!” Rachel screams.

“Someone has to be, Rachel! Clearly, none of you are gonna actually ask him if he did it. You’re all just pointing fucking fingers like a bunch of children.” You look at the supposed adults surrounding you. “Hey, uh, right, so how did Jason do it when I was like….with him? Do you think he ran out of his room the second Kory came to get you just do that? That's fucking stupid!"

“He's the only one that would have done it!" Rachel argues.

You laugh. How can anyone be taking this seriously right now? “But he wouldn't even do it! I know he didn't do it! He was barely fucking awake when I walked into his room! How would he have done it?!” You tell a little bit of lie. It's not that he was asleep but he was kind of in a trance when you walked in. Regardless, you know it wasn't Jason. He wouldn't mess with Rachel like that and the more you think about it, the more you’re realizing that almost every single one of their fights has been caused by Rachel.

“We aren’t pointing our fingers at him.” Dawn says calmly.

“Hank is! Rachel is! You asked him about the picture of Elis and you,” You face Donna. “Asked about a pop? How the fuck would he know any of that!? Jason’s right, you’re all fucking insane! You all take down these shitty fucking people with evidence but when it comes to your own, you don’t need evidence to point the finger! What the hell is that about!?”

“Jason is an asshole!” Rachel yells.

“He is! But he isn’t a mind games kind of asshole! And being an asshole doesn't justify being blamed for some bullshit he very clearly did not do! He’s got more of a fucking problem with Dick and Dick is the only one not experiencing this weird shit, isn’t that weird? What the hell is wrong with you guys?” You scoff.

The anger bubbles through your entire body. Every inch of you feels like it's on fire. It's disgusting and appalling that these supposed heroes can blame Jason for this. How do they not see that he's struggling? How have they not noticed he's all but sleeping in the training room and skipping dinner? You know you cannot be the only to have noticed. Gar has. They should notice. They're supposed to be looking out for you four, not making false accusations with no proof or even a motive. It's not right and it's not fair. Jason deserves better than all of them.

“Y/n.” Gar warns softly as your hands start to glow.

“No! Fuck that! Are you all fucking blind? Are Gar and me the only fucking people noticing that he is really fucking struggling right now? And all of you are going to be making it worse! He is practically living in the training room, he’s barely eating, and he’s not sleeping. I know you guys are self-absorbed and for heroes, that’s weird, too but you guys have had to have noticed right?”

The room goes silent. The only one who has noticed is Kory and she isn’t accusing Jason of anything. You can feel the burning start behind your eyes with the silence of the room. This is the most unbelievable thing you’ve ever witnessed and been a part of. How have they not noticed? It's so blatantly obvious and none of them even care. It's cruel.

“Wow.” You nod your head with a scoff. “Good work, team. Good work looking after your own.” You grit your teeth and you can’t believe these people consider themselves heroes. “You know, you get kidnapped, tortured, and then dropped from a skyscraper and let me know how that treats your psyche. He didn’t fucking do it and it’s disgusting you all even think he did.”

“Who else did it then, kid?” Hank questions, crossing his arms.

“I don’t know but it wasn’t him. I know him better than all of you. It wasn’t him, Hank.” You’re nearly whining, practically pleading with them to believe you.

“He drew the crosses on my mirror, no one else hats me.” Rachel declares.

“Okay, let me break this down because you're clearly not using your brain. Mental manipulation works best when the person doing it, lets you believe you’re on the same side. If you were on opposing sides, it’s easier to see through the bullshit. Jason and you are not on the same side, ever. So, why would it be him? Again, he isn’t the mental manipulation type. The closest he gets to it is just talking and talking and talking until you get annoyed.”

“We know it wasn’t Rachel.” Donna states. “Or Gar.”

“It wasn’t Dick.” Dawn chimes in.

“How do you know!? He’s been acting fucking weird as shit lately, too!”

Dick's been kind of down and out lately. He's been checking around the tower and you swear you overheard him talking to himself the other night. Dick seems like he's also losing it. But, again, apparently, the only people who notice are you and Gar. For people who are supposed to be observant, they all suck at it.

“Dick wouldn’t do that.” Hank defends.

“Right, so I should believe Dick wouldn’t do it because you say so but you won’t believe that Jason didn’t do it because I say so. Great reasoning there, Hank.” You gives Hank a sarcastic thumbs-up.

“Hey, watch who you’re talking to.”

“Yeah? The fuck you gonna do about it? I’ve been held captive twice and once was with Deathstroke, I’m not fucking afraid of you.” You scoff at him. “Gonna forget what team I’m on, too?”

“Y/n, come on.” Gar pleads with you.

“This is fucking bullshit and I know you know it.” You look over at him before looking back to the older Titans. “What did he do that is so bad that you guys hate him that much?” Your voice breaks with the question because you can’t imagine him doing anything. You can’t figure out why no one sees him the way you do. Or why none of them want to.

Just as Rachel is about to fight you, the elevator opens and all of you look over, seeing Dick look a little spazzed out.

“He’s here.” Dick whispers as if he’s just cracked some sort of code. “In the tower. Deathstroke’s here in the tower.” Dick explains. “He took pictures of all of us.”

You would very much, also, like to be back with Deathstroke. At least the guy was a little more straightforward than these people. Deathstroke had a reason for the madness. It wasn't a good reason but it was a reason. Meanwhile, the Titans have nothing and Dick had officially lost his mind.

“Dick…talk to me, what’s with the gun?” Hank asks, pulling everyone’s attention to the gun in Dick’s hand.

It’s this moment that confirms to you that everyone in the tower has lost their minds. Deathstroke is also completely insane but you and Jason were tortured by him and even you two aren’t that out of your minds. You aren’t sure what’s up with the Titans, but at this point, you don’t even wanna know. Instead, you figure you’ll use this time to grab Jason and try to avoid the other Titans. But, you look around and he’s gone.

“Fuck.” You let out an exasperated sigh, actively pulling attention back on you. “Shit.” Your eyes widen and the panic sets in. Jason isn’t doing well mentally and now you’re scared for what he’s going to do. Everyone blames him. Everyone hates him. He wants to be with Deathstroke over these people.

“Y/n?” Gar asks, seeing the panic written across your entire body as you approach him.

“Check the training room for Jason.” You rush as you dart the other way and everyone is left confused as to what you could be in a hurry for.

You head to his room first and he isn't there. You don't think he would go to the training room, it's too exposed. But, Jason keeps falling in his dreams and he has a thing for suffering. If it were you, you'd go to the roof so that's where you go. If Jason would rather be with Deathstroke, the answer would be the roof. He’s terrified and you can see it. He has nightmares about falling so of course, that would be his way out. To him, it’s going to be easy and accessible and no one even noticed he was gone.

You run towards the roof door, barging through it and the door flies open. Your heart sinks as you sees Jason standing on the ledge, looking straight ahead. Your feet come to a complete stop and you swear you never thought you’d have to talk someone down from this. And you hate that he even feels this way. He deserves so much better. But, you have to swallow the lump that’s forming in your throat and walk over to him.

“Jay?” You call quietly, walking carefully as if the roof is a lake covered in thin ice. Any wrong step would send you both into freezing waters.

“They all hate me.” Jason’s voice is so small and it breaks a part of you.

“They fucking suck, Jason.” You state, trying to make your voice sound like it’s not about to crack.

“It’s all my fault.”

“It’s not your fault.” You hold your voice steady as you close the distance toward the ledge. “None of this is your fault.” You state strongly. “Cam you please get down?”

“Rachel blamed me first. Maybe if I didn’t tell her to get checked by a priest.” Jason lets out a breath, ignoring the request. He swears everyone’s lives would be better if he wasn’t a part it anymore.

You take a step close to the ledge, looking over it and you feel yourself grow nauseous. You’re sick and tired of these heights but this is Jason. You look up to him and with shaky hands, you put your hands on the ledge and lift yourself up. You take a seat, letting your legs dangle as you have a death grip on the ledge. Jason glances to you with just his eyes, daring to not move his head. You’re never going to let Jason be alone in any of this. If he’s going to stand on the edge, you’re gonna be right there with him. He will never be alone if you have anything to say about it.

“Her dad possessed you, traumatized you. That wasn’t her fault, but it was her responsibility to apologize for it and listen to you about it. That’s not on you, Jay.”

“I just keep fucking up.” His voice quivers as he moves his foot forward and you nearly break.

“Jason,” You rush his name. “I am begging you not to walk off this roof.” You keep your attention on Jason and that’s all you can focus on. You can’t fucking lose him. “It’s not your fault. You’re not fucking it up. Okay? This is on them. You’re just trying to help.”

“I keep falling.” Jason’s voice quivers again. “It won’t stop.” Jason sucks in a breath and now you know why he keeps standing at his windows like that. He’s just reliving it over and over and over.

“Jason, it’s gonna be okay.” You keep your voice soft and gentle as you keep your stare forward.

Jason doesn’t know how you can even say that. It doesn’t feel like it’s going to be okay. It’s been a week and it feels like it happened yesterday. It still feels like he’s on the window washing crane. The Titans hate him for no reason. He’s never done anything to make them hate him. That’s not going to be okay and it’s not going to get better. They’re always going to hate and they’re always going to blame him for anything they can. And it’s his fault.

This always happens. Jason pushes and pushes until people break and pull away. He doesn’t even know exactly why he does it but he does. People try to help him and it all fails. He’s a mess and maybe he’s too big of a mess to ever be fixed. He’s tired of it and he’s tired of feeling like this.

“Bruce wasn’t the first one, ya know?” Jason states. “Who tried to help me. I can make a list. Relatives, teachers, cops, Dick. Nobody's been up to the task.”

You pause and you already knew that all Jason has ever wanted is feel good enough. He sabotages. You get it because you do it, too just in different ways. But, Jason is not all bad. Jason is hard-headed and stubborn and cocky. He can be a little shit and he’s a little too snippy and sarcastic sometimes. But, if anyone bothered to get to know him, they’d know him how you know him. Which is that he’s a good friend. He’ll sacrifice his own feelings for his friends, he’s self-sacrificing, and kind, and funny. He’s charming and a geek in his own way. He’s a nerd and he deserves to be cared for. Everyone gave up way too soon.

“I am.” Your voice is quiet and you peak up at him with just your eyes, keeping your head steady and your words catch Jason off-guard. “I mean it. You know I don’t lie to you. Put that shit on me, remember? You’re not a fuck up. You deserve for people not to give up on you.”

Jason lets out a scoff because he doesn’t want to believe you. “I’ve got a poison in me.” Jason lets out a huff. “Shit spreads. It can affect even the healthiest people.”

“You don’t have a poison, Jay.” You state. “You don’t.”

“Look at what happened to you!” Jason’s eyes water further, blurring his vision slightly as his voice cracks.

“What? Deathstroke?” You scoff. “I was fucked up long before Dick brought me here, alright? Gotham, death, torture, held captive, almost murdered. Almost murdered Jerry. That’s all me, that has nothing to do with you. Deathstroke was gonna happen. If it wasn’t you coming up with the idea, it would have been me, let’s be honest.” 

Jason bounces to something else. He’s finding every reason he can to keep standing here. He wants it all to be over, for the pain and the shame and the guilt to just stop. But, he doesn’t want to give up either. There are two sides of his brain playing tug of war. One of them is screaming and crying, pleading to hold a little longer while the other side is cackling and chanting to jump because everyone’s lives would be better without him in it. 

“It’s happened before.” Jason starts. “I once spent two nights in juvie and four fucking people died. It follows me like a curse.”

Your brows furrow and you hate that he feels this way about himself. No one should ever feel like that. You want to get off of this roof and hunt down every single person who’s ever made Jason Todd feel like he’s a poison and he’s not good enough. You’ll fight the entire world for him.

“Were you Robin?” You ask.

Jason pauses. “Yeah.”

“Then it’s not your fault.” You let out a scoff and you really do have something again Bruce and Dick. “That’s on Bruce. He’s been Batman our entire lives. He shouldn't need a Robin. He should have been a better Batman. It’s not your fault those people died, do you hear me?”

“I just want it to stop.” Jason’s voice finally breaks and you want to break with him but you can’t.

You want to drag him off of this roof and grab him by the face, scream at him that it’s all going to be okay and that he’s good enough. That he deserves everything good to happen because he is good. There is nothing wrong with him. He is worth the effort. But, you’re so scared that if you make any move towards him, he’ll lose it entirely. You would do anything to get his pain to stop.

“It’s not just you, Jay.” Your voice is soft. “Look, you know I have nightmares, too about all of it. It’s not just you and as long as I’m alive, it’ll never be just you. As long as I’m alive, you will never be alone in this shit.”

“What?”

“If I’m alive, you will never be alone. You won’t go through that shit alone because I’d follow you into the dark if you asked me to. You’re my best friend in the whole world and...I care more about you than I do about almost anyone I have ever met. I’d do anything in the world if you asked me to. You and me. Always.” You pause, looking behind you to see Dick standing a few feet away. “I mean it. You’re not a fuck up and you are not alone. Ever. Fuck, everyone else, okay? I am batshit terrified right now but I’m here with you because I care about you and I’d lose my fucking mind if I lost you. My life would be so much fucking worse without you in it.” Your words more intense and stern with every second. "Fuck them because you're not a fucking poison and you're not fucking cursed. And someone should have fucking been there for you. So, I will be. Now, get the fuck off this ledge.”

“What am I supposed to do?”

“Put it on me.” Your voice is so gentle, it nearly shatters Jason. "I will never give up on you. I will never let you do any of this alone, Jay. Please." You finally look at him with the final plea. Your eyes lock with Jason's and he make the decision. He takes a step back, stepping down from the ledge.

You follow his lead quickly, relieved over the whole situation and you feel like you can breathe again. You close the distance between you and wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him close to you. Jason buries his face into your shoulder, his arms hugging you tightly. Everything is so heavy for him. The weight of the world is drowning him and you are his life jacket.

And Dick sees the two of you and that’s when he gets it. When he gets what it means it has someone who is literally a ride or die. Dick worried about you together after Jerry. As friends, as more than friends, just being around each other. Something told Dick that would just be the beginning and the Deathstroke happened and Dick was certain he was right. But, now, he’s not sure if you’re the cause for each other’s destructive behavior.

You’re both just like that but you both get it. You understand exactly what the other is going through and how to handle it. It’s not about you causing each other to do something stupid, it’s that you both have someone who is there when you do it so you can pick up those pieces. He gets it now and he understands why he should have told the Titans about Jericho from the beginning. None of this would have happened. Jason would not have wanted to walk off this roof had he been honest. Maybe the Titans wouldn’t have disbanded. This is on him, not the two of you in front of him.

“This is my fault.” Dick speaks up, you and Jason pulling away from each other.

“Okay?” You question him, not even wanting to deal with him. This is also his fault, Jason and everything. This is on Dick. 

“Deathstroke, all of this is my fault.” Dick admits.

“Yeah, I said that.” You nod your head. You’re not dealing with this. You got Jason off the ledge and would like to bring him inside and shield him from the Titans. “I’ll get Rachel or Dawn or Donna to talk you down though if you need it.” Jason looks at you, a bit surprised by the venom in your voice.

“No,” Dick shakes his head. “I owe everyone an explanation.” Dick sucks in a breath, you and Jason waiting to hear where this could possibly be going right now, of all times. “I killed Deathstroke’s son.” Dick admits.

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[fullsundiall]

so it’s been awhile since i’ve wrote one of these but this story broke my heart in the most beautiful way possible, charming and full of heart and simplicity and softness that feels like a mother wiping tears off my cheeks. it’s female lestappen (yes soft lesbians!) and probably my favourite fic i’ve read this entire year.

the story is always an angel never a god by @stormwarnings

https://archiveofourown.org/works/55179922#main

so first, on girlhood. this fic is wonderfully sweet in the way it treats it’s girls. they are not precious, or wildly different then any other driver but they have a fundamentally different experience of life that they share only with each other. and maybe it doesn’t matter all that much but it exists and it’s real and it doesn’t have to be bad or good sometimes it just is. what really struck me about this book is that the characters are *exactly the same. max doesn’t have different motivations or goals because she’s a women, she just wants to win. and charlotte doesn’t put herself through hell and make himself smaller in any way for ferrari because she’s a girl, that’s just the reality we are in.

Because sometimes Max thinks about her mother, about her sister, about all the girls she hopes will watch her and Charlotte, and see what a girl can be if only she’s given the chance. She thinks, if this is all I am ever known for, then perhaps that is okay. We will go down in history, like Senna and Prost, like Hamilton and Rosberg. If the best thing I am ever known for is you, I think I can live with that.

this is the quote that made me want to write this post because it made me feel so so much and i wanted to share it but it didn’t feel right without sharing this entire gem of a story. i just love how in this point of her life, the fire hasn’t gone out, she’s still just as eager to win but maybe there is something bigger. maybe us two together means more then anything a wdc can bring. “If the best thing I am ever known for is you, I think I can live with that.”

for me it was so refreshing to see their maturity just purely from being older and seeing things from a new perspective. to see how their passion for racing is still as vibrant as the day they met but slowly other things started to fill their hearts. the space racing took up hasn’t shrunk, their minds and souls have just grown to accomadate something more, something i think is missing from a lot of current lestappen fics.

Maybe it’s not that the other things feel less important – I am still going to beat you, this year – but rather that all the small things now matter so much. I took her for granted, for so long. I never really told her how much she meant to me until I thought she might not be here.”

it’s not that this is an uncommon topic or theme it’s just that it hits so much harder with the authors delicate words. it makes me want to wrap my mom in the softest hug and listen to the jouenys of her girlhood and her womenhood and her motherhood and never let her go. i think these days shared community from elders especially lays to waste and i don’t want to spend another minute taking it for granted.

“You act so tough. But really you are very sweet and gentle; you also are so much like your mother. Perhaps it is just like that. Boys grow up to be men, and girls become their mothers.”

“Is that a bad thing?” Max asks. She would rather be her mother than her father.

“Maybe at the end of the day it is not,” Charlotte replies.

i’m devastated. absolutely devastated. in a world where everyone is trying to become their own person and bring their own name and uniqueness into the light, it’s hard to remember that it’s okay to not be so different. and as a girl believe me i know how much pressure there is on us to be better then our parents and to appear strong and to leave our femininity behind. for max and charlotte to become role models for young girls to look up to. and this is a gentle reminder that mothers are the first people we look up to, the bravest, strongest examples of femininity we have in our lives. and not all mothers are good, but i know each and every girl has the women they model themselves after, the ideals they take to heart and the actions that will always be inside them. for girls to become their mothers, to be sweet and gentle and courageous and fiery all in the same breath, no how can that ever be something bad.

this fic is poetry in reading, one i know i will come back to many many times and will always pull at my heartstrings. it is a testimony of girlhood and a loveletter to mothers that i think being set in the future has given much more meaning to. it’s settled and comforting and not at all frantic or fast, ironically, something that i don’t see very often in the f1 fandom. it’s peaceful. on the last note, i do very much appreciate this fictional 2029 grid, arvid at rb (which is most certainly called something else), yuki at rebull, and ollie having that seat next to charlotte. i’m blown away by this breathtaking story and i don’t think i’ll get my breath back for another few hours.

(also ps: stormwarnings if you do see this and want me to take it down or take the link down sr anything please just let me know! i know it’s locked but i don’t know the protocal with sharing on tumblr so please do tell me)

[ipsomaniac]

Trying (again) to try and build a habit for drawing. This time feels a little different in that I have really sat down and thought about it and tried to make a bit more of a system for myself. 

One of the most useful lessons I have taken from weightlifting, and succeeding in making a practice of it where I have failed in all other forms of exercise, is that having a minimum effort option is key for me to maintain a consistent habit in something. If I decide on the minimum effort option - for weightlifting that means 2 different compound lifts at 3-5 sets each and then fuck off out the gym - it gives me a safety net to turn up even when I really don’t feel like it, because I know that at worst, I just have to do this quite easy thing and then I can stop. It defrays the fear of pain that causes avoidance, and undermines excuses cos it’s such a little thing I’m asking of myself. Giving myself permission to do the bare minimum has changed how I approach exercise, valuing regularity over performance and intensity, and now exercise is an established part of my life in a way it wasn’t before.

I’m trying now to take that lesson and apply it to art. Being an ignoramus who has never properly studied art, I’ve always felt like I had to do A Drawing, something finished, every time I picked up a pencil - that was how I drew intuitively as a child. But obviously you cannot actually practise art this way, you can’t make An Artwork every time you make marks. This backwards way of thinking about things has landed me with over a decade of avoidant behaviour wrt art and writing and all self-expression, because I long to make things but am terrified of the pain of trying and sucking.

So what I’m now trying to do is prioritise frequency over quality or effort - i.e. at this nascent stage, far more important than what I draw or how good it is or how hard I try, is that I simply get a streak going. The aim is to go 3 months where I make marks of some kind for a minimum of 10 minutes a day, every day. Once a week, on Saturday or Sunday, I have a longer session of one hour minimum, where I can give myself space to make a more serious attempt. On any other given day, I am allowed to do nothing but doodle for 10 minutes and then stop - but I have to sit down, get my materials and sketchbook out, and spend 10 minutes focusing on that. If I want to do more, I can - most days I usually end up doing at least 20 minutes, often more like 40 - but the key thing is having permission to stop at 10 to get myself started.

It’s only been 2 weeks so we will see how it goes, but so far it’s working in the way I hoped it would; 10 minutes is such an easy baseline that there’s no room for avoidance, and I’m motivated by the desire to keep the streak going. I’ve made more marks in the past 2 weeks than in the past 6 months. The key thing is that I feel less afraid. Dare I hope something is unchoking?

[interview-with-an-emperor]

“I know,” I smile ruefully at him, “don’t settle.”

“Never settle.” He gives you a long hug once the tour starts is announced and takes a deep breath before parting from you, following the group down the hall as you leave to get Luca.

The introduction of the tour starts with a speech from the Emperor and a few of his closest associates - the galaxy renown Marshal Commander, an Inquisitor named Jaspar, and Aurra herself. Every word that Vader speaks hangs in the air and motivates Ruhn to push himself harder than he ever has, today. Though, he does give himself a moment to be realistic, and ultimately decides that if he doesn’t land the Emperor, he will do just fine with the Commander or Aurra. Either one is a very high position and interacts with the Emperor probably daily.

He listens closely for each speaker session throughout the palace tour, asking questions when and if they come to him. Almost every time, the speaker seems impressed with him. The one he isn’t so sure about is the silver-haired clone, who mostly remained expressionless and quiet. Though Ruhn swears the man’s eyebrow twitched slightly in surprise when he posed a question.

By the end of the tour, he excitedly signs himself up for an interview with every single speaker, save for the man named Tarkin. He… is a scary, birdlike man, with nothing but a cold outlook on the entire galaxy. He would rather die than work for a man like that- he’s seen men like him before on Tatooine. They are never satisfied. No matter what.

Tarkin would never break Ruhn. In fact, Ruhn thinks himself mentally and spiritually indestructible, which makes him formidable competition for all the other interviewees.

And though he spent the day surprising everyone else, Ruhn’s own surprise openly shows as he walks into his interview room with the Emperor and sees Cody sitting there as well.

“Please come in,” Vader smiles softly at his hesitance. “You’re correct. We’ve decided to throw a curveball and conduct interviews together. I hope you understand.”

Ruhn shuts the door and moves to sit across from them. “I am nothing if not adaptable,” he says calmly.

Vader hums, “That is an excellent show of initiative. You are… Ruhn, correct?”

“Yes sir,” Ruhn nods.

“Tell us about yourself, Ruhn.”

He watches as Cody prepares a pen and his notebook, taking a breath. “My… name is Ruhn,” he starts again, “I am the eldest of three children, born to a very loving mother. We have come from Tatooine for this,” he explains, watching Cody’s pen stop and the man’s brown eyes lock on him, as do Vader’s. So that’s why the accent was so familiar. It’s just Vader after a very long day.

“I… I am- very smart,” Ruhn continues, forcing himself to make direct eye contact with both of them as he speaks. “I am well-spoken. I can read, write, and I am fast learner. Whatever I do not know, I may require help but not for long. Um… I like to build things. Mostly I have worked on speeders and droids anddd radios. My mom likes music while she cooks and we could not afford a radio so I built her one from scraps.”

Vader’s smile softens further and he tilts his head a little. “You sound like a very ambitious and inspired young man, Ruhn. What made you so interested in this internship program?”

“I want to make a name for myself,” Ruhn says. “I want to make a difference. I want to make a difference for the galaxy and I want to make a difference for my family, because my mother deserves a good life. It has not been easy to afford three kids. I do not want her to worry about it anymore.”

Cody leans forward a little. “What topics are you most focused on, regarding making a difference? Do you have any specific interests?”

“I want slavery to end,” he says quickly. “I- I have tried to keep up with the laws being passed but we cannot always access the news. I will work tirelessly to free my people, no matter how long it takes. My mom has friends who are slaves and their lives are…” he shakes his head a little. “I want them to know love and affection outside of what they are forced to experience. I also have great respect for you,” he looks directly at Cody now. “I… know clones have rights and everything now. But I want to work toward better programs for soldiers who have trauma from the war. Or- or from anything, really. Nobody should have to live in silent pain,” he says softly. “Everyone needs help and… and I want everyone to know it is okay to need help.”

Vader and Cody simply stare at him for a long moment in shock and awe.

“…Should I… keep going, Sirs?” He asks carefully, his eyes dancing between the two of them.

To his surprise, Vader hums a low laugh and looks to Cody with a lopsided grin, “I’d like to hear little Clovis say anything remotely close to this.”

Cody’s raspy chuckle in response sends butterflies through Ruhn. A ridiculous thing to feel, he knows. But the magazines literally did not lie about this man’s charm. And these two together??? He wants to be an exact replica of both of them when he’s older. Holy shit. He has so much to tell you.

“My apologies, Ruhn,” Vader looks back to him, “I just- you’ve completely blown us away. And we know it is genuine because I come from Tatooine,” he nods as Ruhn straightens in surprise. “I was a slave. As a boy. My mother was a slave. My friends just recently became free, after I took a personal trip there. I know what it is like to feel disconnected from the news of the galaxy- and yet you are still here and so educated. I don’t know how you do it, but it shows a hunger. A drive. An ambition I haven’t seen since… well, since the age of the clone wars, if I’m being honest. Cody here- he and his brothers are the epitome of tenacity and ambition, and you come quite close already.”

Ruhn flushes darkly, noting Cody’s confident nod of agreement next to the Emperor. “I- thank you,” he bows his head, tearing up a little. “That means a lot to hear you say this, Emperor. I am very happy and lucky to be here and have the chance to meet you. And possibly work with you.”

“Do you have any questions for us?” Vader asks him, so curious about how this boy’s mind works.

“I… I was wondering about the living situation,” Ruhn says carefully. “We still live on Tatooine, we are staying in a hotel for this event. Is- would housing be available if I get an internship here?”

Vader nods. “Yes, we have more than enough space- and we’re happy to provide for the families of our hard working employees. We would personally fly you back out here and help you settle in a quarters space of your own, with as much space as you and your family need to comfortably live.”

“And- rent?”

“No rent, dear boy,” Vader huffs. “You get up and help me make this a better place every day. That is enough payment for me. You will receive an hourly wage while working and your family will also receive stipends as a thank you for allowing their children to work for me.”

Ruhn grins, nodding softly. “Thank you so much. Um- that is… all, I think. Thank you.”

“Thank you, Ruhn,” Vader smiles back, rising with Ruhn and Cody before Cody opens the door for him. “We will be in touch in a few days with our decisions.”

Ruhn bows his head once more and hurries out of the room, practically sprinting toward the banquet hall since that was his last interview for the day.

Please be here already. He’s going to explode if he doesn’t get his excitement out soon.

In the stunned silence still filling the conference room, Cody slowly turns to Vader with a grin. “I’m gonna fight you for that kid.”

“You will lose,” Vader hums, walking out with him since interviews are done. “But I wish you luck, Commander.”

[westernjaguar]

Behind Oblivion: Part I: Darling

Thanks for coming along with me on this journey through the songs of Oblivion!

Each week I will be featuring one song from the record and giving you a behind the scenes glance at how the song came to be. The first song we are going to look at is Darling... which, drumroll please... will be the feature track of my NEW MUSIC VIDEO dropping this Thursday, July 27!

Now, each time I do this I’m going to break into 2 sections. Music and Lyrics; just so if you have a particular interest in one over the other, you can skip to that section. Alright, lets dive in

MUSIC:

Here’s a first glance at the Logic Session I used to record this track. Though Davis completed the song in Ableton, this still shows a good understanding of what shaped the track.

Percussion:

Like much of the record, the drums in this song are stock Logic drums, but effected and slightly modified. This track the base sound was the “Bluebird + kit” and modifications were made from there. I really loved using these Logic drums and found they sounded pretty darn good all things considered. Davis was really the one that brought them to life in the mix.

Synths:

The main instrumental melody of the song is not 1 but 2 synth sounds stacked together but playing the same part. Most people have correctly identified the Glockenspiel sample. I was pulled in that direction because I have always loved the sound of a glock but never used it before. It lends itself well to the poppy, upbeat vibe of the track. However, on its own, it felt kinda thin and tinny. So, I added a Soft Synth layer in tandem with it just to add a little more sustain and body. Again, just a Logic stock sound with some slight modifications to attack, release, decay and sustain.

Guitars:

The primary guitar in the track is actually the bass, I played this line on my Fender Precision bass. I really wanted that to be the ground for the track and the driving force behind everything that was happening. It is vital to the finished project.

For the electric and acoustic parts, this was actually one of the most restrained songs ever for me in that area. There is just a doubled up electric guitar line that is played on my Fender Jaguar to add some jangle but it is very subtle in the mix.

The other element is an acoustic guitar layer which really is only heard in the first parts of the choruses where the drums are stripped away. This acoustic in my Logic session was actually not used, and was re-recorded when Davis was doing the mix. It was played on my Taylor 110e.

Vocals:

Vocals and overdubs were recorded with Davis in his studio. The track in this file was just a reference. We recorded these vocals with an Antelope EDGE microphone and really leaned into the autotune to give it that polished, pop feel.

LYRICS:

Lyrically, Darling is pretty straightforward. It’s a love musical letter. This love letter is particularly directed at my wife. She has been my rock and I wanted to write something for her to celebrate our wedding and commitment towards a life together. I honestly didn’t know if I could do it (like lets be real, all my songs are usually super depressing lyrically) but it really wasn’t too difficult to craft. It came together quick and easy. I guess having the right motivation and subject matter makes all the difference.

...

So ya, that's the story of Darling... Leave a comment and let me know what track I should dive into next. 

WJF

JCT

[simplitaught]

Excellent Collaborative Learning Strategies for Modern Days

As thousands of students and learners move to online learning, educators find it challenging to adapt in-person classes for remote learning. Many instructors can do a much better job keeping students hooked while teaching online. Currently, they are stuffing courses with passive education activities, making online learning boring for students. However, the need of the hour is that educators employ different collaborative learning strategies to keep students engaged. 

The slapdash Zoom lectures can keep students engaged for only a short time, making it easier for learners to get distracted, disengage and tune out.

Educators must get students to tune back by adopting diverse collaborative learning activities. This, in turn, will encourage learners to get involved with the learning process, material, and each other. Also, studies prove that online collaborative activities enhance academic performance, knowledge retention, and interpersonal skills.

Collaborative Learning Strategies for Student Engagement

We have compiled a list of our favorite collaborative learning strategies that can quickly improve the online learning process and keep students engaged throughout the course.

Jigsaw Technique

The jigsaw technique is one of the most effective methods to help students process and retain information. It builds on the method called “teaching others.” To use this from all the collaborative learning strategies, ask students to learn only a piece of material (jigsaw) and then teach it to fellow learners in a group. Therefore, the group will work together to synthesize the information and then prepare a presentation about what they learned.

Think-Pair-Share

It’s a classroom collaborative learning technique, but educators can enact it online hassle-free. In the think-pair-share approach, students are made to work together in pairs to assess, evaluate, analyze or synthesize a lesson. Then they have to share their findings with their fellow students.

You have to pair off students to reproduce the think-pair-share technique. First, the educator presents a question at the end of the class; students then meet and discuss their answers before the next session.

Brainwriting

Only the loudest and most confident students get to participate and share ideas during class discussions. Whereas classroom brainstorming sessions help even the quieter students put forth their thoughts, questions, and concepts. Henceforth, brainwriting is an excellent collaborative learning strategy to encourage students to generate ideas beforehand while ensuring every student gets a chance for thoughtful discussion.

Daily Discussion Questions

Online discussion boards are among the simplest collaborative learning activities to facilitate student engagement and enhance learning. Post daily or weekly questions on discussion boards to spark conversation and motivate students to think critically and creatively.

Break-Out Group Discussions

It becomes difficult for some to speak up in large groups in classes with hundreds of students. So instead, segment your class into small breakout groups so that everyone gets a chance to speak.

Smaller breakout groups consisting of 20 people or less are very effective. Each discussion group should have a moderator to facilitate the discussion and manage conflicts and issues that may arise. A teaching assistant or a student volunteer can perform these duties.

Peer Review

Having pupils review each other’s work is an excellent way to ensure that students get the most out of individual feedback and attention, even when working in large groups. Teachers and students can use tools in online learning to get the most out of it.

The peer-review process benefits both the reviewer and the reviewee. Providing and receiving extensive feedback from fellow students help pupils deepen their understanding of the subject and improve their writing skills.

Scaffolding

Scaffolding isn’t just unique to collaborative learning strategies, although it can be a valuable tool for structuring collaborative learning.

A house can’t be built without scaffolding; likewise, you cannot expect learners to do complex coursework without supporting study materials to direct them. Again, SimpliTaught comes in handy, providing supplementary lecture videos to help students learn seamlessly. Therefore, instructional scaffolding is a collaborative learning strategy that helps build more significant concepts on top of simpler ones.

Final Thoughts

The shift to online learning hasn’t been easy, but the above-mentioned collaborative learning strategies can help students feel involved and engaged even through their computer screens.

[jennyyyeeettt]

THIS STUDYING THING WORKED WITH ME!!

I don't usually study a lot. Like I'd sit down for the whole day on my desk and get so little done, sometimes I even get nothing done at all, but today I weirdly did a lot... Since I knew my finals will be in a week, I sat down with one of my "most worrying" uni mates and we planned out the whole week's study plan so we can get the most done a week before the exam. Yesterday was a bit messy as I didn't really have a day plan, so I decided I won't fall for the same shiz again. Before I slept yesterday, I planned today's study schedule, and it worked because I knew there was a lot of breaks that allowed me to watch anime and and read a lot of my book and text my friends back without being in a hurry, and when I'd finish before the time I set, I'd add this time to my break. the study plan/ schedule: 7:00/ 7:30 wake up 8:30 : 10:30 study session 1 10:30 : 11:00 break 11:00 : 12:30 study session 2 12:30 : 2:00 (pm) make food and eat (brunch) 2:00 : 4:00 study session 3 4:00 : 4:30 break 4:30 : 5:00 study session 4 (more of reading and organizing my thoughts on the part I'll study next) 5:00 : 7:00 make food and eat dinner 7:00 : 8:30 study session 5 8:30 : 9:00 break notes on that: -study sessions can be replaced by assignments/ revising/ doing homework or a research or anything - you should literally get better eating habits than mine, I'm not so healthy, I eat 2 meals only also and I don't usually have breakfast but I'd get snacks or yogurt or something light or some drinks in between - before I sit down to study I make sure I have all the tools needed so I don't get up (the notebooks, textbooks, planner, sticky notes, laptop, pens, highlighters, a bottle of water, a cup of something -so I won't get up to make something to drink- snacks, tissues, phone if needed) -keep a note beside you and when you remember anything that you wanna do in your break write it down there -more tips (that I didn't use much of today but helps me a lot) : =setting a timer =listening to songs or music or something (when I'm down I play la la land's sound track) =playing a movie/ cartoon or anything that you know well by heart so you wouldn't be so focused on it (actually worked- I did it before an exam) =changing the place of studying (bed, balcony, kitchen, living room, at a friend's place, in a coffee shop, anywhere) =video calling a friend or someone: you don't have to be studying the same thing =keeping up with a friend to see what you both finished and what is left and give each other a push =remember that progress is more important that perfection =if you are tired you can just read the lesson and underline/ sort out the ideas in your head =it's ok to not feel motivated, but know that if you waited for motivation it will never come .. also you can watch a motivational video if it works with you =online study groups can be effective -breaks (this is how I used my breaks): =replying to certain texts =checking on some people =reading =listening to music =planning the next study session =watching anime/ an episode of anything if its a long break =stretching or some kind of work out idk =spending time with family (in my case I don't recommend much) =walk around =clean/organize your room / do a chore =spend it on your hobby =learning a new language =15/20 mins nap =write down your thoughts

[subwaysurf45]

Love You to the Moon and Back

summary: Bucky notices you’re feeling down after a bad injury, he does his best to help.

words:  3817

warning: depressive episode, doctors, mainly fluff!

pairing: Bucky x Reader 

Masterlist!

Bucky could tell you were getting bad again. 

And it hurt him to see you like this but it always happened after a big mission, your job was traumatizing and it took a toll on all of you. Bucky knew he had his days but he also knew when you finally let yourself slip it was really bad. 

You were a very headstrong person, you didn’t like letting people see your weaknesses or just you being hurt in general. So it sucked when you had broken your shin and witnessed a school of kids get blown up by a bomb, maybe sucked is an understatement but it was what you always said. 

You had pretended to be a teacher because there was supposed to be a hit on most teachers at a private school, so when the school blew up before everyone was out of the building- including you -it left the memories very crystal clear. There was no way of saving everyone so you saved yourself, and the feeling of selfishness had never been more apparent than right now. You were lying in bed with a cast on your left leg, your left leg was on top of the duvet while the other leg was under. 

A tank top and shorts was all you wore even though you were cold. A pillow was placed between your legs down by your shins to keep the injured one elevated, Bucky had stuck it there the last time he came in to check on you. 

Speaking of Bucky, he walked into your shared room in the compound. 

“Hey, sweetheart,” Bucky cooed as he gently opened and closed the door without making any sound, you had become hyper-aware to sound and light so a loud noise or a flash of a camera could send you into a state of hysterics. Bucky sat himself at the edge of the bed at around your midsection, you were lying in the middle and facing him. You barely said hello, all you could muster was a groan that had the same rhythm as the word hello. “How’s my girl doing?” Bucky rubbed your thigh very carefully. 

It was so obviously a rhetorical question, you were absolutely shit and he knew it. You both just stared at each other and Bucky seemed to get the message, he nodded and looked down. The room was so dark from the lights being off and the curtains being pulled you barely registered that Bucky had a plate of cheese, apple slices, and crackers. Bucky saw you turn your nose up and he knew you would, you had been like this for what felt like weeks. 

“You have your two appointments today, you wanna use the crutches or the wheelchair?” Bucky asked as he gently caressed your thigh, a little hum came after a few sections to clarify this wasn’t rhetorical. 

“I don’t know,” you mumbled into your pillow. 

“Okay…” Bucky held onto the last syllable, he glanced over to the wheelchair and crutches. “How about you have a little snack and then when you got food- and I’ll get water -you can make your choice. You also know you can switch and I’ll be glad to grab it for you, alright?” he did a few quick pats on your thigh before setting the plate down on the bedside table, he grunted as he stood up and stuck his arms slowly beneath you. All Bucky did was sit you upright to eat, you had gotten better at eating and now didn’t need motivation to eat but just a little push at the beginning to keep going after the first bite. Bucky also found if he ate a few pieces from the plate you’d be more inclined to eat the rest. 

“Thanks,” your voice was low and barely audible. 

“No need, pretty lady,” Bucky got right beside you and grabbed the plate, he placed it between you and let you choose the first piece. “So, you’re at the doctor at two and then Doc at three-ten, do you wanna nap between for a little or for a while after?” he just took a cracker and plopped it into his mouth. 

“No, no nap between, I wanna sit outside Doc’s office like before to make sure I’m not late.” You mumbled and stacked a piece of cheese on an apple slice. Doc was your therapist that was assigned to you a little while before your injury, Bucky wasn’t the only one who got nightmares and manic episodes; you probably got them more. Bucky knew he couldn’t go into your therapy meeting, he could physically go in but it went against his morals, this was your time to be alone and completely vulnerable to a human that you only see one or twice a week, he didn’t want you to sugar coat anything just because he wa sitting there. 

Bucky nodded and hummed before pulling the notebook out of the bedside table’s drawer, your combat backpack which you used for everything between missions and a picnic in the park was curled over itself in the corner of your room. Bucky picked it up and headed back to bed to let it rest there as he packed. He did this when you weren’t injured, Bucky had sadly realized your memory was a little shot from the amount of bootleg brainwashing and head injuries. You’d constantly forget about appointments or missions, or even the date. 

“Baby, I told you, your birthday is today, that’s why I got flowers.” Bucky said and pointed to the counter with the bright flowers on it. 

“No…” you rubbed the front of your head. “My birthday isn’t today, I forget the day- but it’s not today, I swear.” 

He slid in your journal that you used to write down lists and memories, you had used a guitar pick as your bookmark even though you can’t play anymore. Sometimes when you’d show up to a therapy session you’d forget what you wanted to say, it hurt him when he’d walk you there and you’d be saying the list of things under your breath with your eyes closed. Nightmare, mom, picking my nails, ankle, nightmare, sand, flowers. 

“We gotta go soon, anyways, wanna get ready for the day?” Bucky softly asked, there was no nice way of telling your loved one they needed to shower. 

“Sure,” you looked down at the plate and grabbed the last of it before getting up, the apple and cheese was just curled in the palm of your hand, as you walked over you shoved it all into your mouth because you knew you had to shower and you didn’t like soggy cheese. 

“I’ll keep packing your bag, and I’ll fill a water bottle for you.” Bucky had been your human crutch as you walked to the bathroom, you had an itch down in your cast that was bugging you. 

Tony had wanted to add tech to the shower to help you stand because putting pressure on your left leg hurt after three minutes and seven seconds- not that you were timing to see how long you could go without collapsing. You had said no to tech and just asked for a bar, Bucky even thought it would be cool but it was all up to you. 

Bucky helped you slip out of your clothes before leaving you be, he knew he would have to check on you periodically because you were too stubborn to ask for help if you had fallen or couldn’t get in the shower. You gripped onto the metal bar and helped yourself slip in, you turned the water on right away. 

You liked warm, long showers. You just let the water hit your skin as you stood in front of the shower head, the water pressure was high so you let the bullets hit your face when your eyes were closed. Your hair got wet as you stood there, you reached for the bottle of shampoo and expected it to be where it always was. The was getting into your eyes and when you squinted to see where the bottle was everything was double, as you reached for the bottle you had actually reached for the fake double and knocked the bottle off the ledge. A loud thump rang through the bathroom and it sounded like a bomb. 

There was one second of silence before you heard scrambling from outside the bathroom door, all at once you could see the door swing open by its shadow through the curtain. The curtain was pulled back so hard a couple of ringlets holding it up were ripped off. 

“Baby?” Bucky yelled before he registered you were standing upright. “What?” he breathed heavily, he was completely expecting you to be passed out on the floor with a cracked skull. 

“Shampoo bottle,” you said meekly. 

“Oh, thank god…” Bucky sighed to himself as he reached down to pick it up. “Are you hurt at all, did you fall?” He placed the bottle back on the ledge which made him reach across your naked body, on his way back his hand touched your shoulder then went to cup your cheek and move your head to look at him. 

“I’m all good, babe.” You smiled, an exhausting smile. 

“Alright, back-is-packed, finish up and I'll help you over to physio, alright?” Bucky closed the curtain to give privacy but waited for a verbal answer. 

“Perfect, thank you.” You grabbed the bottle again, your heart ached for him to be in the shower with you, it was something you did all the time before you were injured. 

“Don’t thank me, pretty lady.” Bucky reached for the door and opened it, before he could walk out, your voice quietly called his name, he could barely hear it over the water in the shower. “Yes?” he replied with the same softness. 

“Stay here with me, please.” the ‘please’ came after a beat, and extra plea. 

“Always,” Bucky sat on the toilet seat and gave the company you needed as you tried to stick your finger down your cast to itch that one spot on your leg. 

*****

Soon enough you were sat in the physio room, Bucky was off to the side with paper work in his lap and a binder in your backpack he packed for you. You liked the moral support when you were here because you never really had the best experience with doctors, Bucky would act like he wasn’t even there. That was a good thing, he did need to be the hovering boyfriend all the time because that can get tiring for both parties. He’d look up and listen to the doctor near the end, Bucky would write down the exercises and when to do them so he could gently remind you later. 

“Alright, you’re gonna get a new cast next week,” the doctor smiled at you, when you didn’t pick up on the excitement the doctor’s smile faded. “That means three quarters done!” Bucky had looked up and smiled, even clapped a couple times. 

“Then I have to learn how to walk again,” that was an exaggeration but it didn’t feel like one. 

The doctor gave a knowing look, “why do I feel like you’re already walking without the crutches?” You didn’t say anything because it was true. 

Your leg was examined and x-rayed, Bucky held onto your necklace as you went in. Your mind faded in and out as the doctor spewed ‘doctor stuff’ at you, you just didn’t have the care to listen; but Bucky did. He’s the type of guy to take notes and research later. 

Bucky would look over and see you looking at the floor, not even paying attention. He knew he couldn't get mad at you, you both dealt with injury very similarly. But something about seeing you shut down entirely made his heart ache, he wanted to reach out and lift the corners of your lips up into a smile because they seemed like they were being weighed down, he couldn’t remember the last time you smiled and real smile. He hadn’t been going on mission to keep you company, but now he knew his most important mission.

He walked you over to your therapy session that was still in the building, your Doc would come to the Avenger tower. He’d walk you right to the door of some random debrief room and kiss you goodbye. Bucky would hold your shoulders and gently rub your arms to hype you up before going in, he gave his little speech and said the same thing after. 

“You know I love you, and I know it’s hard.” he’d then kiss your cheeks and forehead. “I’ll be right here when you’re done, don’t even sweat it, pretty lady.” He then wouldn’t leave until the door closed and he heard muffled voices. 

The tower was right in the heart of the city, everything he needed was right there and a walking distance away. He slipped on a long sleeve and his gloves, he knew you took the backpack but you also had reusable bags, he took a few and headed out into the summer heat, it wasn’t humid today which was great but it wasn’t cold either. The tote bag was slung over his shoulder, all that was in it right now as a list. 

flowers 

chocolate

card

stuffed animal 

To call Bucky a romantic would seem weird to someone who only knew of him from the news or a museum, you knew him as a total hopeless romantic. Even in the 40’s, Bucky was the type of person to keep their walls up until he really got to know and trust you. It would normally be one little thing that would allow him to truly be himself around someone, he let his guard down that day you were walking to the restaurant he made a reservation at, Bucky placed himself so that arm or hand you’d hold would be his right but when you caught on you walk around him and looped both arms around his left, metal arm. After that, he was goner. 

He’d leave little sticky notes everywhere, a blue square paper in the coffee mug that read: ‘make sure you only drink one cup!’ or another on your shampoo bottle: ‘you look great naked ;)’. Bucky knew the little things mattered to you and vice versa, he knew that grand gestures didn’t mean anything without a little kiss that came before. 

The flower shop smelt great, Bucky didn’t know much about plants but he knew which ones you’d like. He was thinking of putting one on each bedside so whenever you’re lying in bed- which was a lot -you could look at some pretty flowers. They were a nice shade of purple and the stems were not too long, Bucky bought them and put them gently in his tote bag before heading over two stores to the grocery store you always shop at.

He was envyus of your clean eating, you’d eat what you want but you’d shop at fermer’s markets and organic stores. Bucky didn’t know it made a difference. He went to the frozen section and found chocolate covered strawberries. Bucky picked up a little pack of eight and headed to the front. There were also flowers there but they didn’t look nearly as nice. All he wanted was a very simple cute card with a blank inside, they were easy to find. It was cream coloured with a little sketch of a fuzzy, brown teddy bear holding a yellow balloon. All it said in dainty cursive at the top was: “look at you go!” Bucky knew this was perfect. Near the cards were little toys and stuffed animals. He found a bear that looked eerily similar to the one on the card but without the balloon. 

As he walked into the Avenger’s tower the bag was full and he had enough time to spare to set things up. Bucky headed to the rooms and made the bed, he changed the sheets as well because he knew you liked them when they were crisp. The teddy sat right in the middle with the card next to it. Bucky had written a little note that covered the entire right side of the card. He got a bowl from the kitchen and filled it with ice, he also found that white wine you liked and stuck it on there with the strawberries just to keep them cool but not melted. 

Bucky glanced at his watch and felt almost giddy as he realized it was time to head over to the conference room, he had to work on not giving it away when he’d first see you with his wide smile. The walk to the room was quick because of how fast Bucky was walking, he turned the corners sharp and almost jogged down the hall down the meeting rooms. He only stood there for about three seconds before the door slowly opened, Doc had opened the door and helped you out. Bucky’s smile turned into complete worry when you walked out holding a tissue to your nose, your eyes were red and puffy. Bucky also noticed that your fingernails were red and bleeding, that was one habit you were currently trying to break. 

“What’s going on?” Bucky asked in quiet disbelief, his eyebrows almost touching. 

Doc gave a curt nod, “we talked about a lot of things,” her answers were always so vague. 

You sniffled and waited for Doc to leave down the hall, Bucky was still looking at you. His hands held your shoulders and gently massaged the answer out of you. 

“It was a good cry, I needed that.” you sighed from exhaustion. 

A little piece of Bucky’s heart broke, if you needed to have a good cry then you could have told him, he would’ve listened. Bucky started to go back and see where it went wrong, if he was too overbearing and if this whole afternoon he had planned was created at a very wrong time. He wanted to ask what he did wrong but what came out was different. “Well that’s good to hear, I know Doc is good at that- helping you out.” His words were true but something about the delivery made it seem uneasy. 

“I just-” you looked to the ceiling and hoped to find the words you needed written there. “I like flushing it all out to her because I won’t see her for a week and I don’t need to keep up with what I’m feeling. I always cry to you but Doc is just really good at explaining how I feel, you’re there to validate it and make me feel soothed.” You held his left hand as you both walked down the hallway. “I feel lighter, like, I feel better.”

“That’s always good, sweetheart,” Bucky made sure you were putting weight on him because you didn’t bring your crutches but you really should have. “I have a little treat for you,” He turned to face you when you both stood at his door, Bucky kept his hand on the door handle. “I know it’s been a rough few weeks but I hope you know I love you all the same, and all I see is my strong, beautiful girlfriend.” Bucky saw your confused face, as he opened the door to reveal a dim lit room with flowers, wine and a teddy your eye welled up with tears again. 

You gasped and put your hands on your chest, “for me?” your voice shook as you walked in, you peered into the ice bucket to see your favourite wine and some food as well as a card beside the ice bucket, under the teddy. Tears flowed down your face as the feeling of being overwhelmed washed over you, you could barely string a sentence together. A hand waved the gifts all away, “too much,” was all you could muster. 

“No, baby,” Bucky smiled, he walked over and pulled you into a hug. “Nothing will ever be too much for you.”

He let you cry in his chest for a very long time, you both ended up sitting on the edge of the bed as he stroked all the way up your back. His hand would bunch up your hair as he went up to your neck. His lips were right at your ear, all he whispered were sweet nothings and a calming ‘shh’ once and a while. When you had a little composure Bucky reached for the card, as you read it your lips trembled even more. A hand stayed glued to your heart as your body warmed at loving words, you could barely read it with blurry vision from the tears but it still seemed crystal clear. Your finger traced over the signature: ‘love you to the moon and back, Bucky’. And you crumbled again, your forehead hit his chest as you cried away all the pent up emotion you thought you flushed out at your therapy session. 

With all the crying you were so tired, Bucky had thrown on a movie you two could watch while enjoying your strawberries and wine. You only had two and half a cup before you were snoring on Bucky’s shoulder, he tried to nudge you a couple times but nothing worked at all. He watched the movie on his own and saved the last two strawberries for you in the morning. You didn’t even wake up at him getting up and leaving the room. When he came back he got you out of your day clothes and into something comfy. 

*****

You woke up to the sun hitting your back, when your eyes opened they focused on the flowers and a smile graced your face. It was the first time in a long time since you smiled with your eyes, a little giggle even slipped out. 

At that sound Bucky walked out of the bathroom, “well there she is,” he smiled wide. 

“What does that mean?” you wiped the drool from the side of your mouth, “I had a nap, a really good one, too.” You seemed to be bragging. 

“A nap? Baby, it’s eight.” Bucky raised his eyebrows. 

“Ya, I fell asleep at about five so I had a three hour nap, no biggie.” You rolled on your back and stretched out, your gaze moved back to Bucky when you heard a giggle, “what?” you laughed back. 

“Eight in the morning, the next day. Your three hour nap was actually a well deserved fifteen hour hibernation.” Bucky joined you on the bed. 

“That’s why I feel so good,” you sighed, you looked over to Bucky and swatted his chest at his little smirk. “Don’t think like that.” 

“I bet I can make you feel just as good-”

You cut him off with a kiss.

[the-hidden-pages]

Misread Affections - Laszlo Kreizler/Fem!Reader SMUT

I started at midnight. I had 0 words. It’s 4:30am. I have 4643 words because I have fallen deeply for Doctor Laszlo Kreizler. Forgive me for this.

Synopsis: With all your history together, you and Doctor Kreizler believe you understand each other. Yet when you believe him to be infatuated with Karen Stratton, and he believes you to have affection for Marcus Isaacson, you’re both stunned when you find yourselves to be proven wrong.

Warnings: NSFW. Desk Sex. Dirty Talk. Patient-to-Friend-to-Lover. Definite depression and general self-loathing.

SPOILERS FOR THE SECOND SEASON!!!!!!

You had always admired the man Doctor Laszlo Kreizler was.

He championed those who could not champion themselves. He worked tirelessly to understand the minds of criminals. To those very same criminals, and many others that lived as outcasts to society, he would offer kindness and understanding. At his best he was beyond intelligent and, daresay, sweet.

At his worst, he was ruthless, and his own self-loathing would have him come across as unempathetic most days. While preaching to others to care for himself, he would often forego his own care. While offering an ear and a receptive mind, he would refuse to offer himself the same.

You knew this within mere days of knowing Doctor Kreizler. And such facts made you rather fond of him.

A fondness that was not helped by his handsome build, his dark locks, his scrutinizing gaze.

And yet no part of you could justify ever acting upon this fondness.

You had come to him both as a patient and a colleague. You had always been aware of a darkness within yourself, ever since you were a child. This darkness had only grown, too often all-consuming, leaving you. a dysfunction wreck of a human being. However, you had an obligation to keep going, a promise you had sworn to your sister to continue your own existence. So, exist you did.

While your family’s fortune wasn’t enough to send you to Harvard, like the Doctor himself, it did allow for you to be a reasonably educated woman of the times. A deep fascination in understanding your own darkness led you to the work of alienists, and eventually to the work of Doctor Kreizler.

While you couldn’t often justify breaking societal rules to such an extent, you found yourself motivated enough to call upon the Doctor with a proposition – should he aide you in understanding your own illness of the brain, you would offer any services you could to the Kreizler Institute.

You could tell he was curious of you. A woman of your standing did not often make such demands with such authority, nor so blatantly admit to her own illnesses. He quickly agreed, eager to study why you considered yourself so damaged, and happy to take on an extra set of hands with the children he looked after.

Over time, you begun to slip effortlessly into Doctor Kreizler’s life.

You met the likes of Cyrus and Stevie, along with many others that worked at the Institute. You were then blown away by the strength within Miss Sara Howard, and the pure, undiluted love that Mister John Schuyler Moore could show others. You were even called upon on several occasions to be a fresh set of eyes, the murders of young boy prostitutes and kidnappings of babies not deterring you, to the surprise and reluctant joy of the Doctor.

And as Doctor Kreizler studied you, you studied him.

You slowly learned of all the emotion he kept hidden behind the façade of professionalism. The kindness, the love, the anger, the fear. While he showed none of these most days, occasionally a concoction of such feeling would burst in an overwhelming outpour.

In offering him a platonic safe space, a place for him to talk through such outbursts should he wish, he in turn aided you.

The darkness you felt for so long began to subside some days, and between the efforts of him and a passing remark from John, you learned of an outlet for your darker thoughts – writing.

While expressing your own emotions and turmoil did not come easy, you found it far simpler when written down on paper, as opposed to spoken aloud to a judging room.

Doctor Kreizler gifted you a beautiful leather-bound journal a mere day after this revelation, with the request that you record your thoughts. He promised he would not read it unless you requested him to as an act of therapy.

For many days, you allowed him to read any thoughts that came to mind.

Thoughts of blood, of death, of pain and anger. Thoughts of a stolen childhood, of worthlessness, of longing.

Many days when he read your pages, you would be silently crying as he did, fearful of his judgement. But it never came.

Instead, he would close the book silently, and offer you professional advice.

One particularly rough day, in which your narrative was beyond vicious to you, he closed the book before finishing, and offered you something you didn’t expect – an embrace.

He hugged you so tightly, that for once…

Your inner monologue ceased.

His own, however, raged on.

How could you think so lowly of yourself, he wondered? While he could understand mindsets built from trauma, he couldn’t help but wish you could see yourself through his own eyes. Your empathy when you cared for the children in the Institute. Your intelligence when conversing with Miss Howard. Your artistic delight when laughing with John. And the perspective, the warmth you offered such a broken man such as himself.

Neither of you knew, in that exact moment, that the other was realizing the fondness you both held in your hearts for each other.

And neither of you knew how truly broken the other felt at their core.

Two souls, believing themselves to be undeserving of love, finding it in their hearts for the other.

When the beautiful, cunning Doctor Karen Stratton entered the picture, you asked Doctor Kreizler to refrain from reading your journal.

He was hurt by this, but profession and courtesy claimed that he could not show it.

You began to withdraw from him, placing your entire focus on the case of the stolen babies and your focus on the children in the Institute. Kreizler, in his own difficulties of potentially losing the said Institute, took notice of your own withdrawal from your sessions, but held enough hope that you had found stability to care for yourself. You still conversed with Sara, you smiled with John. You had even been introduced to the Isaacsons, and he had wondered if you had taken a liking to Marcus.

You deserved a young man such as him, he told himself, heart heavy. A whole, young man with enough strength to support you.

And on the night of Marcus’ death, he believed it to be confirmed.

He found you alone, in his study where you so often had your sessions with him. You were curled inwards on yourself, clutching your journal as though it were your lifeline, sobbing uncontrollably.

He moved to console you, arms holding you tightly.

“It’s all too much,” you choked out, unable to articulate much more.

 Doctor Kreizler nodded, waiting for you to be able to go on.

You regained some breath with difficulty. “I just…I can’t stand to lose a friend. Not after everything else lately.”

 “I know how difficult it can be, to lose one you love…” Kreizler began, not noticing how your sobs stopped in confusion. “After Mary, I…Well I swore I would never again…The point is, I-“ he stopped short.

You had spluttered out a laugh.

 Your hand covered your mouth immediately, noticing what had just happened. You immediately moved to cover it up, wiping away your tears and standing up away from him. “No, no, Doctor. Heavens, Marcus…well, he was loved but, I saw…I see the Isaacsons as brothers I never had. He was dear to me but…not in the sense I suspect that Mary was to you.”

 “I…see…” Doctor Kreizler pulled back, sitting in his study chair as he gazed at you. “Apologies, I seem to have misread your relationship. Nonetheless, his death has greatly affected you, as it has all of us. I suspect it will be a very difficult grieving process, but…” he manages a soft, rare smile that warmed your heart. “We will endure it together, as we have these cases.”

“Will we?” your voice grew empty as your thoughts swirled.

He titled his head, unsure of where this was leading. You gathered your courage to question him.

“Rumour has it, Doctor Stratton has asked you to join her in Vienna. I wonder if you’ll go.”

 Silence falls over the room.

 Laszlo couldn’t understand what this had to do with anything. Your crying, your distress over Marcus. What did his leaving have to do with any of your distress?

 “You’re greatly upset by something,” he eventually said, gazing at you with a more analytical eye than before. “I’m afraid you give me too much credit, if you think I know the specifics of it.”

“I-“ you stopped, clearing your throat as you choked up. Your knuckles turned white on your journal’s edges, hands shaking. “Doctor Kreizler-“

“It’s been months since we’ve known each other,” he interrupts, “and we haven’t held a session together in nearly five weeks. Would it pain you to call me Laszlo? Are we not…friends?”

You gaped at him, but his face remained unreadable.

  You shake your head. “Yes, it…it would pain me. It would pain me a great deal, Doctor – it does pain me a great deal to hear you call me a friend when…”

“When what?” he prompts you sharply, and you inhale quickly.

“When I feel I’ve been dishonest with you, unkind to you…” had the room not been dead still, Laszlo might have missed the next words you whispered. “I feel I’ve been perverse to you.”

 If he was confused, he didn’t show it. And you were talking now, the words spilling out, a cascade unable to end.

“I feel as though…had Marcus not…died…tonight, I might never have done this. But then my mind, it began spinning so quickly I couldn’t stop it, and I couldn’t help but imagine countless scenarios in which Libby, in which the Dusters, in which…well, in which any number of causes might take your life as well. In which you might die before…before I can confess…” You huff, your words getting caught once again. With a determined move, your arm shot out to pass your journal to him, and Kreizler takes note of a particular page being creased.

 He looks up at you, but you don’t meet his eye.

“I’ve marked where I want you to start reading. Just…go from there. Inform me when you’re finished.”

You walk over to the window, desperate to be distracted, as Doctor Kreizler opens the book and reads at your request.

           He can’t comprehend what he’s reading at first.

           While he had grown accustomed to your twisted perception of yourself, he hadn’t realized just how ruthless the self-loathing could take you. Endless doubt of your friendships with the team, with your position as a caretaker, in your abilities to be a friend.            And as words continue, he realizes your doubts in being a partner, a lover.

           If he grows flustered at the words he reads, he’s determined not to show it to you.

           He reads your envy of women like Sara Howard, able to move forward with such strength and certainty, and of Karen Stratton, so brash, so forward. Your envy is strong towards her, in her abilities to understand sexuality, passion, human desire, and in…

           In her connection to himself.

           His eyes widen as your own ramblings seem to uncover a truth you hadn’t explored before – your attraction to the Doctor that had aided you, offered you employment. The pure taboo of such affections, yet your inability to stop it. Your adoration, your admiration for the intimidating, raw man that he was. How you felt unworthy, that you would hold him back, that he deserved a woman as delightful as Doctor Stratton, a woman who could stimulate him academically, that could pleasure him physically. How you felt so deeply ashamed of harbouring such elicit fantasies of the man that had been nothing but kind to you. How you loved him so deeply it made you want to die, because you would never be deserving –

           You heard the journal snapping shut, and you couldn’t bring yourself to face the Doctor, knowing what he must’ve read, dreading what he must now be thinking.

           The silence lasted far longer than you would’ve liked, but you couldn’t bring yourself to speak.

           “I find myself taken aback more often than I like,” Kreizler’s voice shatters the still air. “I believe myself to be so wise, so understanding of the mind, and yet I come across a mind such as yours that I…I truly cannot fathom how you think what you think.”

           “I’m sorry,” you start, voice breaking as tears begin to flow again.

           You nearly jump out of your skin when you feel a hand on your own. You don’t dare to turn around, frozen like a rabbit having been sniffed out by a hound.

           “You think me to be attracted to Doctor Stratton, am I correct?”

           You nod. Of course, he was. Was it not obvious?

           “Karen and I are colleagues, and friends, should I be too bold to assume so. I can recognize that she is a physically beautiful woman, yes, and I’m sure some day she will make a man a very happy husband, should she wish. But her and I have a kinship, a partnership, not unlike what I believe you and Marcus might have had, that I too misinterpreted as love.”

           You sniff, closing your eyes tightly. What was he trying to tell you?

           Doctor Kreizler spins you around slowly, leading you to face him.

           “I do not harbour half the affection in my heart for Doctor Stratton as I do for you.”

           You freeze. “Doctor-“

           “Please,” he reaches up to cup your face, wiping away several of the tears that had fallen. “Please call me Laszlo. You are not the only one to have an epiphany after the loss of our friend, my dear. If you are being so honest with me, I feel it only right to offer you the same.”

           “Laszlo…” you whisper, meeting his eyes for the first time since he read your words. His heart breaks with the pain within them. “How can you do this? Look at me, hold me, when you see how broken I am? I’m undeserving-“

           “You would choose to love, to care for a cripple, a shell of a man in the eyes of society. A man who has too often neglected the children he cares for, often spat in the face of those he dares to call his friends. If either of us is undeserving of the other’s love, my dear, it’s me.”

           Your brows furrow angrily, reaching up to mirror him, cupping his own face with both of yours. “Laszlo Kreizler you stop that right now, I won’t hear any more of…you’re smiling. How could you be smiling?”

           He leans into one of your hands affectionately, a rare, dashing smile lighting up his features in a way you cherished to see, despite the circumstances. “Perhaps we are both wrong. Perhaps…perhaps we need each other, to use each other’s eyes and hearts to understand who we truly are. We both have such lowly opinions of ourselves but…perhaps it was meant to be.”

           Your own smile was beginning to form, despite your best efforts, as your brain’s screaming of all that could go wrong began to quieten.

           “I hesitate to believe in fate, Doctor…” you trail off, taking a step closer, your heart filled with hope and eyes filled with wonder. “I hesitate further to admit to needing someone, and yet…my brain is only ever kind and quiet when I’m around you.”

           Laszlo’s weaker arm rests on your hip, while the thumb of the hand caressing your face moves to trace your chin. “My language is not as…poetic, as yours, my dear,” he confesses, and you both chuckle, “but I very much would like to kiss you, with your permission.”

           “Laszlo, you could do anything to me,” you confess, reaching forward to finally meet his lips.

           It’s messy, and uncoordinated, but any lack of experience the pair of you may have is made up for by the pure, electric eagerness that overtakes the both of you. You’re both exploring, testing each other, in some give and take dance that does not seem to quell any emotions within you, instead quite the opposite.

           You could kiss him forever, you quickly realize.

           But by some cruel twist of fate, you have to pull away, air taking priority.

           You stare wildly at him as he breathes heavily, eyes darker than you had ever seen, with a sense of uncertainty that you hadn’t ever seen about him before.

           A teasing smile finds its way onto your face, as you can’t help but test your luck.

           “How far, exactly, did you read in my book?”

           He blinks at you a couple of times, uncertain of your line of questioning. “I read of your jealousy, of your shame, I don’t…I don’t believe I finished it all, I found I had to address the issue before I continued –“

           “Would you like to know what else was in there?”

           Laszlo appeared flustered as you led him back to his plush chair, and you knelt down between his legs to pick up the book that had fallen to the ground. You don’t offer it to him, however, instead putting it aside.

           “My dear, I don’t –“

           “I ask you to stop me, if my advances are too…forward to you, Laszlo.”

           You slowly rise from your place, moving to lift your skirts so you might position yourself above the Doctor, straddling him in his chair. As if on its own accord, his good hand rises to situate on your waist tightly. You gently grasp his weaker hand, his “broken wing”, and lift it to your mouth, delicately kissing the palm, each finger.

           Laszlo mutters your name, transfixed by your mouth’s movements.

           “I would love every part of you,” you begin, continuing your assault of affection as you whisper against the part of him, he views as most broken. “I would care for you in every capacity in which I’m capable. I would strive to be deserving of you in every which way.” You drop his hand and lean forward, hands grasping the back of the chair as you hold his gaze. “I would have you claim every part of me, I would have your marks for the world to see, if you wished. I’ve dreamt of you and I in the most compromising positions that I dare not say, on nearly every surface of your study, my bedroom, the Institute. I would give you every single piece of me, Laszlo, every ounce of my attraction. I would give you my darkest sins and my deepest pleasure, if you would allow me too. Please, Doctor Kreizler, let me please you.”

           You didn’t know what you were expecting from your confession.

           Perhaps you wondered if he would push you away, exclaiming that your desires were too much, your words too sinful, and that he would cease associations with you immediately. Perhaps you thought he would scold you for being too wanton, too unbecoming of a woman of your standing. Perhaps you hoped the worst that would happen is he would kiss you softly and instruct that you both go to bed in separate rooms, that more carnal needs could be discussed at a later date.

           Never in your wildest dreams did you expect to feel Laszlo shift and harden beneath you, eyes growing so dark they were nearly completely black, and have him reach his hand to curl around the back of your neck.

           And you certainly didn’t expect the deep growl that escaped him as his lips, tongue, and teeth clashed with yours frantically, animalistically.

           Neither of you had experience, you both knew this.

           But you both knew what you wanted, what you needed, and that would be enough to motivate you.

           You both took what you could, Laszlo leaving your lips to reach what he could of your neck, lavishing it with lips and tongue. He explored expertly, quickly learning what you liked based upon the quickening of your breath, of your pulse. What was left of his analytical mind was fascinated by the chain reaction of events, how you spurred each other on.

           When he nipped at your ear, your hips rolled uncontrollably, and a rough groan escaped him unconsciously.

           Fascinating indeed.

           He panicked slightly when you stood, wondering if he had stepped too far. The panic raised as you strode across his study, heading quickly to the door.

           “Wait, my dear, I-“

           “Calm down, Laszlo,” you hushed him, and he heard a loud click of the door locking from where he sat. “I merely don’t wish to be interrupted. If this is still what you wish.”

           He leans back in his chair, breathing heavily, observing you as you stand once again before him. “I should be asking you what you want, my darling.”

           You grin, shaking your head. “Was my speech before not enough for you to know what I want, Doctor Kreizler? Can you not infer exactly what I want from you from the writings in my journal? It’s your turn to share, else I might just leave you like this.”

           His good hand involuntarily juts forward, grasping yours desperately.

           “Don’t you dare.”

           You giggle, and he smiles at the sound.

           “Then, tell me what you wish, Doctor.”

           “I wish…” he trails off, watching as your hands move upward to begin slowly undressing yourself.

           “Yes?” You prompt him teasingly, continuing your motions. “Don’t mind me.”

           Laszlo shifts in his chair, erection clearly visible by the bulge in his slacks. “I…I wish…” his voice trails off again as his eyes take in every inch of your skin that’s uncovered. “I wish to be with you in every manner. Intellectually, spiritually, physically. I wish to connect with you in a way I never will with any other living creature on this Earth. I wish to feel you around me, to bring you to climax. I wish to fill you, to be yours, to fuck you, to make you Mrs. Kreizler…”

           He stops at that, only becoming aware of his own ramblings you straddled him once again, completely nude.

           The faintest voice in his head wondered if you made him stupid, but it was silence as his eyes took you in completely.

           “You are the most gorgeous specimen I’ve ever been graced with seeing, my love.”

           You pull him in to a languid kiss, gently tasting each other as your hand travels down his chest.

           “You speak of love, of my being Mrs. Kreizler…” you start, almost losing your train of thought as you feel him twitch beneath you, your hips rolling to meet his. “Another day I’ll ask you to remind me of those words. But for now…” you lean forward, mouth grazing his ear, causing him to shiver. “I need you to fuck me, Doctor Laszlo Kreizler.”

           For all of your faith in him, you don’t expect the next feat of strength.

           With only his good arm he manages to lift the pair of you from the chair, quickly placing you upwards and onto the desk of his own study, mindless of the papers underneath you, of any others that might be in the building as you shriek in surprise.

           He captures your mouth with his, more forceful, captivating, as his good hand explores your form, grasping both of your breasts before heading downwards to the warmth between your thighs. His fingers collect some of the wetness that had escaped your folds and examines it with an almost mocking scientific fascination.

           “Is this all for me, my darling?” he questions, and you find yourself at a loss for words as he curiously lifts his fingers to his mouth, his tongue slowly tasting you off of them.

           “Fuck, Laszlo,” you whisper, reaching forward to pull him in for a kiss again as he chuckles darkly against you.

           His teasing ends when your hands wander downward, now working at the buttons of his slacks frantically, your palm grazing across his length through his pants, causing him to gasp.

           “My God,” he pants out, and you pull him out of his slacks. He’s hard, warm, rigid in your palm, with veins and girth that you hadn’t imagined in any of your fantasies, but was now all you could imagine filling you, ending that emptiness that you felt.

           “Please,” you whimper, and he gently removes your hand, before lining his cock up with your entrance.

           He meets your eyes, checking one last time to ensure this was what you wanted.

           “Laszlo, please –“your begging is cut short as he breaches you slowly, pushing his full weight forward as the pair of you connect.

           It’s unlike anything you’ve ever felt.

           A tantalizing combination of pleasure and pain, your mind repeating an endless mantra of “Laszlo”, which you realize, when he’s fully inside, flush against you, that you’re muttering out loud.

           “Oh, my love,” he breathes, his damaged arm lightly resting on your thigh, his other gripping your hip so tightly you knew there would be marks.

           “You feel so right,” you mindlessly breathe, and you can’t help but moan at the feeling of him twitching inside you at the comment. You would remember that he likes praise, but…

“I don’t know that I will last long, my love,” Laszlo warns, his voice low, gravely, warm against your neck as he buries his face into it, pressing kisses into the skin of your shoulder.

It crosses your mind that you’re completely nude and he’s fully clothed, but the thought fills you with warmth rather than disappointment.

“Nor will I, but this will happen again, won’t it?” you question, a hint of doubt crossing your voice.

The Doctor silences it immediately, kissing you deeply. “Every night, every hour if you would let me, my darling. You are so wonderful…”

“Then please, fuck me Laszlo. I want to cum, I want you to fill me, I – oh!”

The first snap of his hips was relentless, and it was only more intense from there.

He was strong, sure of his movements, chasing his own pleasure and encouraging yours as much as he could, pressing kisses into your neck, your breasts, your lips, his good hand finding your hair tightly. Broken moans left you as dark, rasping breaths escaped him, and it was all too soon before you felt your peak approaching, familiar with the sensation from lonely nights with your own hand curiously working against yourself.

“Laszlo, Doctor Kreizler, I-“ at your moaning of his title, something in him snapped, and his teeth sunk into where your neck met your shoulder.

A deep cry left you as you reached your climax, a white-hot rush waving over you.

As your cunt clenched around him, Laszlo lost himself, growling his native German tongue as he lost his rhythm, heat filling you as he came.

You two didn’t have much time to come down from your highs, as the door to his home could be heard opening and closing from the floors below.

“Doctor Kreizler?” Sara Howard could be heard calling.

Your eyes wide, you rushed to put yourself back together, close wrinkled, roughly thrown back on and your hair being a wreck. You hoped you could pass it off as merely the result of a rough day, an intense mental break.

You turned to Kreizler, who was a picture of perfection, seeming to not be rattled by the events before…almost.

           “Back to the case…?” he trailed off, his voice filled with uncertainty, and you smiled fondly at the terribly awkward, intelligent man before you.

           You step forward and kiss him softly, the warmth between your legs and bruises on your thigh a reminder of what had just occurred.

           “Back to the case. We can continue our escapades when it’s all over, Doctor.”

           He chuckles, confidence returning to him as he nods. “I look forward to it.”

[nanowrimo]

3 Most Common Worldbuilding Mistakes for Writers and How to Fix Them

Every year, we’re lucky to have great sponsors for our nonprofit events. World Anvil, a 2021 NaNoWriMo sponsor, helps you develop and organize your characters, plot, and world setting. Today, World Anvil founder Janet Forbes is here to share some pro tips for worldbuilding. Don’t forget to check out the offer to NaNoWriMo writers for 30% off a World Anvil membership!

I talk to hundreds of writers every week, in our World Anvil Q&A live streams, our World Anvil writing challenges, and meetings with our professional authors. And mostly, they’re encountering the same few worldbuilding problems! Here are the 3 most common worldbuilding mistakes, and how you can fix them:

1. Mary-Sue Worldbuilding

You’re probably familiar with the Mary-Sue—a flawless, artificial-feeling main character. Mary Sue Worldbuilding follows in the same vein. If everything in your setting is directly related to your main character, it feels like the world revolves around them. It’s too convenient and artificial. That’s Mary-Sue worldbuilding.

Mary-Sue worldbuilding is usually caused by worldbuilding exclusively around your plot. Introducing larger-scale conflict in the backdrop of your setting, current affairs like civil or religious movements, war, disasters, or technological breakthroughs, can help expand the world beyond just your main character. 

Your main character might interact with these elements, or more usually, with problems caused by them. For example, they might help some refugees from “that war over there”. But your character should not be at the core of everything—they’re not the cause of the war. Other things are happening outside of your story, in the background. (Pro-tip: this is a great way to reinforce your genre and themes, and make your world feel alive and expansive, too!). 

Fixing Mary-Sue Worldbuilding Of course you’ll need a series bible like World Anvil to help you keep these current affairs organized, connect them together, and make sure you don’t lose your notes! Use World Anvil’s worldbuilding templates to get inspired for your big conflicts, and remember - you only need to write a few bullet points to start with! You can always expand more later (we’ll talk more about that in a moment).

World Anvil’s Worldbuilding Templates are custom-made by experts to help inspire and guide your creativity—and you can customize your own templates too!

2. Mosaic Worldbuilding

You know those computer game worlds where each area feels like a self-contained zone? Where the “desert” region and the “forest” region have no trade, communication, or overlap between them? That, in a nutshell, is Mosaic worldbuilding. It ruins suspension of disbelief, makes your novel setting feel false, and can pull your readers out of your story! 

Fixing Mosaic Worldbuilding

The best way to avoid Mosaic Worldbuilding is to make sure that you have a clear overview of your world early on, with each major region and concept penned out in just a sentence or two. That way, each region will feel like a connected aspect of your seamless setting, not a tile shoved on the side. 

On World Anvil, each world setting has a “Worldbuilding Meta” section to help you detail the 10,000 foot overview—the big stuff. And not just your physical world and its people, but your genre, your motivations, and your themes. This invaluable reference tool helps you expand your setting and add more detail, and will also help you sense-check what you’re adding!

Once you have a clear picture of your meta, and know the overview of your world, it’ll be easy to make use of cultural aspects like imports and travellers, cultural diasporas and geographical transition zones to make your world seem more connected and less artificially divided! And you’ll be able to do it without spending too much extra time worldbuilding. Which brings me to my final common worldbuilding mistake…

World Anvil’s Worldbuilding Meta tool helps you focus, streamline and sense-check your world setting! It’s full of guides to create an excellent overview for your worldbuilding project. This is the view mode of Manifold Sky by B.C.G. Wurth.

3. Worldbuilder’s Disease

Sounds nasty, right? Well, Worldbuilder’s Disease is a very common problem—a compulsion to continue worldbuilding things which aren’t actually useful. Here’s my favorite example—the “elven shoes”:

In your world you have elves. They wear shoes. So far, so good. Maybe there’s a plot-point where an imposter’s revealed because they’re wearing the wrong shoes. So you fill in a few details on your series bible. But if you find yourself writing a 5,000 word treatise on elven shoes through the ages… honey, you have worldbuilder’s disease.

I use shoes as an example, but it could be anything. It might be detailing three centuries of monarchy, or expanding unvisited areas in excruciating detail. Sure, it can be fun, but all that time spent on unnecessary parts of your setting isn’t helping you polish the core parts—or get your novel written! It’s distracting you from your primary goal. 

Curing Worldbuilder’s Disease

There are three major causes of worldbuilders disease: 

Lack of perspective

Lovers of prose

Fear of losing your ideas

1. Lack of perspective

Lack of perspective can often lead down a worldbuilding rabbit hole. Keep clarity on what’s important in your setting with tools like World Anvil’s Worldbuilding Meta. This helps you define your active worldbuilding area - not just geographical but thematic areas—which helps  streamline your world and your project, so you can be sure you’re spending your time where it counts!

Also, be clear with yourself WHY you’re worldbuilding the element you’re working on. Keep clear notes in your series bible about how this new element fits into your novel. If it’s little more than set dressing, you only need a few words. For a core concept, you might need more.

2. Lovers of Prose

As writers, we love to write (duh)! But for most of us, writing in prose in our series bible can cause serious problems. Not only does it mean that you write MORE than we should (your get in flow, words happen!), it’s also harder to reference your ideas quickly later on. Stick to short, organized articles in note form. Make sure the salient information is there, and link in anything relevant. You can always expand to prose later if you need to.

Keep your series bible in brief notes with clear headers! This character article took 5 minutes using World Anvil’s character template which automatically adds the headers. The linked articles help me easily reference related people and places as I’m writing.

3. Fear of losing our ideas

Fear of losing our ideas is actually one of the most common reasons for worldbuilder’s disease—that we’ll forget or lose our notes if we don’t write them out in vast detail. To combat this, make sure you have somewhere to keep your world details safe, organized, tagged and searchable. Then you can reassure yourself that you can go back and develop more later if you need it. 

Obviously, World Anvil is custom made for this, backing up everything in one place and linking everything together, so you can easily search, reference and update your series bible whilst writing your manuscript and not have to worry about losing things!

Anything here ring true for you? Or maybe you’re struggling with another worldbuilding mistake or problem? You can always hop into our live streamed Q&A sessions on our Twitch channel and ask us directly! We go live three times a week to answer questions about writing and worldbuilding, as well as helping our community with World Anvil queries too! Maybe we’ll see you there. And happy worldbuilding :)

Janet Forbes is a published fantasy author and RPG writer, whose recent credits include the Dark Crystal RPG with the Henson Company (coming 2021). In 2017, she and her husband created World Anvil, the ultimate worldbuilding and novel writing platform. World Anvil helps you organize, store and develop your worldbuilding and series bible privately, and market your books to the world too! The inbuilt novel writing software, accessible from anywhere, integrates seamlessly with your worldbuilding. And when it’s time to publish, you can export, or publish directly on the World Anvil platform and monetize YOUR way! Check it out at World Anvil.

[sugakuns]

[hc] kenma, sugawara, akaashi and kageyama get caught making out in the club room

I don’t write actual smut but I’ll write nsfw-ish scenes

→ kenma kozume

okay so you weren’t making out per say, but kuroo busted in at the wrong moment

kenma was helping you study for your history class and to motivate you, every question right, you got to kiss him

it was kinda cute cause each time he’d blush and fiddle with the papers

but anyways, you got the question right and ofc you leaned in

so did kenma

and just to be cheeky you grabbed the back of his head and held him in place for a couple seconds longer

out of instinct he rested his hand on your leg, but that’s when kuroo busted in

kenma didn’t even hear him because all he could hear was his heart beating in his ears

“oh kenma! I didn’t know you were like that!!” cue kuroo screaming

“(y/n)-chan when did you become so bold!!??”

You’re both beetroot red now

ofc the rest of the team tumble in and kuroo’s telling them that you two were making out instead of doing your hw

“we weren’t though..” cue your deflated face which stops all the teasing

“then why were you kissing huh??!” *smirky kuroo*

“i got the question right so kenma kissed me..”

CUE SCREAMINF AND HOLLERING THAT KENMA IS A SMOOTH

→ tobio kageyama

bro tobio won’t even hold ur hand in front of the team (only hinata cuz he doesn’t care what hinata thinks)

so you must’ve made him mad jealous for him to make our with you

or else he was feeling a little needy

“we can’t kiss here..”

“just for a few seconds babe!”

you gave in

unfortunately

he had his right hand tangled in your hair and the other on your waist

definitely not innocent touches but what can you do 🤷‍♀️

you hear footsteps since you’re leaning on the door and before you have the chance to alert kags, the door swings open and you land on your ass with kags following in suit

“what do we have here?” TANAKA ANS NOYA

just flee the country now

“Our kouhai has grown into a man!”

you want to die more when you snap your head around and the third years are there

kags is shouting from the ground and sadly everyone shows up because of the racket

“BOKE BOKE BOKE!!!!!”

“SHUT UP”

“YOU TWO CANT EVEN GET A S/O”

and more,,

you’re barely off the ground when the worst thing happens

coach ukai comes 😔

“why are young people like this??”

you can’t look anyone in the eye after that

just be thankful tsukki wasn’t there to see you land flat on your ass

→ kōshi sugawara

suga loves to kiss you, it’s his favourite thing to do besides hug you

so one day you weren’t surprised he got so handsy bc the day before you didn’t let him kiss you as much as he liked

“why wouldn’t you let me kiss you (y/n)-chan?” he’d ask as he plants a kiss on your lips “now you have to make up for it~”

you two were barely in the club room when he pulled you down to the floor and into his lap

“kō-chan, what if someone comes in? daichi-san wasn’t too far behind us earlier..” you don’t know how you got that sentence out while he places slobbery kisses up your neck

“don’t think about him while I’m kissing you babe”

he tangoes his hand in your locks and pulls you close, his eyelashes fluttering against your cheek

it was getting hard to breath and coincidentally when you pulled away the door opened, but with the position and the obnoxious smack that was created when you two stopped gave it away immediately

especially your red lips and messy hair

“close the door daichi” suga commands as he points at his friend

daichi can’t help but laugh the next day when you didn’t let suga even hold your hand on the way to school

you have to make up for three days of not enough kissing now

→ keiji akaashi

I’m not used to writing for akaashi but I read that he likes to express himself physically

so kissing meant a lot to you two

he could pour his emotions out into one kiss so phew imagine a makeout session

“I know being blunt is your thing and all keiji but..this is too much..we’re gonna get caught”

he lightly shoves you on a nearby desk, kicking the door closed with his foot on the way

“We’ll hear anyone coming before they can see us”

how you wished that worked

with the sound of the table scraping against the floor every time he pushed more into you, the heavy breathing, airy giggles and the sound of your lips smacking every now and again, you couldn’t hear anything else

“AKAASHI!!” Bokuto screams as he flings the door open

“OH AKAASHI!! GET SOME”

it’s

bokuto

of course

he wiggles his eyebrows as he closes the door, most likely telling the rest of the team

akaashi sighs as he wipes his mouth with the back of his sleeve

“We can continue after”

[bbangsoonie]

goal: your heart

member: sunwoo genre: fluff word count: 5,423 synopsis: due to a budget cut, you have to follow the soccer team around for both the school newspaper and yearbook despite knowing nothing about sports. before you know it, you find yourself warming up to the team’s star player, who you swore was the most annoying and arrogant person ever.

a/n: this is a part of the star player collab with @atbzkingdom​ for sunwoo’s birthday! (also, this will be written with the american academic calander in mind)

You knew exactly what you were doing. You were the top student of both your class and school and the leader of many clubs. Your college application was full of achievements and your essay exquisitely written. The only problem? You had no idea what to do after graduation. You didn’t know where you wanted to go or what you wanted to study.

Growing up, everyone told you that you’d eventually find something you love. By senior year, you thought you would at least have an idea by now.

But nope, you were even more lost if anything. Dream job? That was just a capitalistic lie meant to make people happy to slave away for money.

Grumbling, you listened as your friends rambled on about the campuses they visited. It was only the first day back and everyone was already obsessing over one thing and one thing only.

“Y/n, you’re so lucky,” Juyeon pouted. “You don’t have to worry about getting into a university. Your stats are literally perfect.”

“I have other things to stress over,” you groaned. “At least you know what you wanna pursue.”

“Y/n has other things to worry about. She’s about to graduate without ever finding love,” Younghoon teased.

“It’s all our fault,” Jaehyun squinted as he pinched his nose bridge. “We raised her standards too high. I’m sorry, Y/n, that I can’t take responsibility.”

The notebook in your hand threatened to fly over to his seat. Luckily for him, he was saved by Juyeon’s very unnatural attempt at changing the subject. He inquired about the school newspaper that was barely spared in a major budget cut last year.

Thinking about it made you sigh. You had poured in so much effort over the years for the paper and it was almost taken from you. The school was cutting funds for a lot of clubs and diverting the money to the many sports teams that brought home trophies.

A part of the negotiations to save the newspaper club was to feature more sports events and student athletes in order to garner support for the teams. You weren’t pleased with the decision. Your plate was already full without trying to inflate the ego of players who had a god superiority complex. Jaehyun was a great example of the type of jock you didn’t want to raise on a high pedestal.

You had also promised Kevin, the president of the yearbook committee, to help out with photographing games since you had to attend them anyway. Despite the many tasks assigned to you, you were relieved that you could spend your last year continuing to write articles.

“Does that mean you’ll get to come to practice with us? The basketball team is always on my ass about introducing them to you. Now I can finally stop being pestered to be the middleman,” Jaehyun grinned.

“No shot,” Younghoon shook his head. “My swim team has already tried but Y/n puts up a cold front.”

“Hey, I’m a delicately guarded rose with sharp thorns,” you joked, making Jaehyun pretend to gag. This time, the notebook hit his arm.

“No one is good enough for our Y/n,” Juyeon defended. You turned around to coo at him and said something about him being the only nice one as Younghoon guffawed.

The first day of soccer practice meant you had to stay behind after dismissal to meet the team. The coach introduced you to the players and beamed when he got to the last one.

“This is our ace, Sunwoo. Although I’m sure you know that already,” he said proudly.

To be honest, you had no idea who he was. The school was too big to know everyone and you had absolutely no interest in sports. You rarely even went to Juyeon and Jaehyun’s basketball games and Younghoon’s swim meets.

Not wanting to offend anyone, you simply smiled. Sunwoo, catching your hesitance, raised a brow. However, he kept quiet until he approached you during one of his breaks.

“Do you really not know me?” he asked as he took a seat next to you on the bleachers.

Surprised by his sudden question, you blankly stared at the boy in front of you. Sweat was dripping from his hair but he paid it no attention as he chugged an entire water bottle.

“How cocky are you?” you scoffed.

“You really don’t know our soccer team’s star player, Kim Sunwoo?” he gaped.

“Sorry to disappoint but I really don’t care or know much about soccer. Or any other sports for that matter,” you shrugged.

“You’re going to write about the soccer team… when you don’t even know who we are or what we’re doing?” he asked incredulously.

“That’s why I’m here to observe,” you snapped back.

Finding you amusing, he finally wiped away his sweat as the coach blew his whistle to gather the players again.

Sunwoo always gave it his best but for some reason he found himself practicing extra hard that day. Knowing your eyes were on him motivated him to show off his skills by annoying his teammates and stealing the spotlight. After his third goal in a row, he looked at you to see your reaction but was baffled to see you busy writing something down.

Frustrated and peeved, he kicked at the grass with a huff.

When practice came to an end, he snuck up behind you to see what you were so intently focused on. Reading the notes on your notebook, he hummed.

“So that’s what you were doing instead of watching me,” he mused.

You were listing physical traits and personality attributes of each player. He scanned the paper for his name and frowned when he saw what you wrote about him.

“Arrogant and conceited? That’s all you have to say about me?” he whined.

“What? It’s true,” you deadpanned.

“Haknyeon gets “tall, bubbly, and extroverted” but I get “arrogant and conceited”? That’s not fair. This is biased journalism!” he exclaimed.

Realizing that practice was over, you gathered your belongings and stood up to leave. With his cheeks puffed, he watched as you left the field. You were unlike any person he had ever encountered.

“Sunwoo? Kim Sunwoo?” Younghoon repeated with his eyes wide. “The soccer caption Kim Sunwoo?”

Jaehyun and Juyeon’s chopsticks froze midair in shock. Finding their reactions odd, you nodded as you took another bite of your lunch.

“I can’t believe the lady killer got rejected by the man hater,” Jaehyun broke out into a fit of laughter.

“Now that’s a title I’d like to see on the school newspaper,” Younghoon snickered.

“Okay, first of all, I did not reject him because he did not come on to me,” you rolled your eyes. “Secondly, who the hell is he anyway? Why do you all know him?”

“He’s notorious for his fuckboy image. Although I think that’s an exaggerated reputation,” Juyeon said you picked out all the vegetables from your plate. He willingly moved them to his own and you smiled gratefully in response.

“So my first impression of him was correct,” you said.

“He’s not that bad. He’s actually pretty cool. Rumors don’t do the sweet guy justice,” Juyeon explained.

“Our lovely Juyeon sees the good in everyone,” Younghoon gushed as he pet his friend, earning him a smack on the back of his head.

“We were partners for a history project,” Juyeon clarified. “I got to know him a bit and he’s a good guy. Just enjoys attention a little too much. Like Jaehyun.”

Weirdly offended, Jaehyun scowled. You shrugged it off, returning your attention back to your food. You had no intentions of getting to know Sunwoo anyway. At least, that was the plan until he bombarded you in the hallway while you were walking to class.

He blocked your path with that irritating smirk on his face. Exasperated, you asked him what he wanted.

“So I’ve been thinking about what you said yesterday,” he started.

“Oh, so you do think?”

“Hey!”

“Do you think you can move and get out of my way?”

“Anyway, as the president of the newspaper club who’s in charge of covering the soccer team, I think you lack way too much information about the sport. And our school’s players.”

“How do you know I’m the president?”

“I asked around.”

You look at his eyes, trying to peer through any ulterior motives. He was being suspiciously generous. But he wasn’t entirely wrong. Even you thought it was ridiculous that a person who didn’t know a thing about soccer had to write articles about it.

You were also aware that any interviews with the athletes would be surface level stuff that all the students probably already knew. You were the only one out of the loop.

You pursed your lips, annoyed that he was right. Realizing that you were in agreeance, Sunwoo grinned.

“I am offering you the very special privilege to follow me around and learn everything there is to know about the team. For the paper of course,” he quickly added the last part after seeing the look on your face. “I can teach you about both soccer and my teammates.”

After pondering his proposal, you finally nodded.

“Deal,” you eyed his happy expression. “What do you want in return?”

He was taken aback by your question. He hadn’t expected you to assume that he would demand compensation. Your presence and attention were what he was after in the first place. However, he couldn’t let the opportunity pass by.

“Bubble tea,” he declared after some thought. “You can treat me to bubble tea after practice and I can tutor you then.”

“Fine,” you sighed before pushing him aside to make it to class before the bell rang. He was left behind with a stupid smile on his face.

The first tutoring session was extremely awkward for you. You weren’t used to hanging out with guys other than Juyeon, Younghoon, and Jaehyun. They were the only members of the male species you didn’t despise. This riled up Sunwoo’s competitive side. He was determined to get close to you.

He couldn’t stand having someone not like him. He was used to being on friendly terms with everyone—including teachers and even wallflowers. He had a strong desire to receive acknowledgement from everyone.

Perhaps that was why so many girls fell for him.

Nevertheless, the wall around you remained thick and high. Just as he was well known for his playboy persona, you were infamous for never letting guys in. You cold heartedly turned down any and every guy who asked you out. And there had been a lot.

Sunwoo, on the other hand, was excited to spend time with you. Bubble tea was just an excuse to meet you outside of school grounds.

His phone dinged, notifying him of a text. Haknyeon had sent him a screenshot of a post made on the school’s gossip page and wrote “this you?”. He snorted at the content speculating his relationship status after supposedly receiving another confession and rolled his eyes. Curious, you asked him what he was looking at.

“Ah, it’s nothing,” he shook his head as he put the device away. “Just the stupid tea account.”

“Oh you mean that anonymously run social media page that popped up over summer break?” you frowned.

You hated everything about it. It spread rumors, without fact-checking, and started drama. It resulted in both a breakup and the end of a friendship in the span of two months. It was exactly what you and the school newspaper stood against.

Nothing could be done to stop the false information and invasion of privacy because it wasn’t officially affiliated with the school and the students continued to feed into it. People even sent in stories to be posted.

“So tell me what you do know about soccer,” he leaned in and propped his chin on the palms of his hands.

“I know the very basics from catching glimpses of the World Cup,” you leaned back on your chair, making him pout.

“Well, to be honest, explaining the rules is a lot easier to do when directly pointing things out during a game. There’s a match airing tonight. Do you want to come over and watch it with me?” he asked expectantly.

“We can watch the replay tomorrow during study hall,” you said.

“Then we can start by talking about me today,” he chirped. “My squad number is 19 because 9 is usually worn by centre forwards but I wanted to be special and added a 1 in front of it. I’m the centre forward, which is the main striker. That means playing offensive is my main objective. Which is why I’m the highest scorer on the team.”

You wanted to wipe the smug look off his face. It irked you how he so easily bragged about himself.

“I also really like movies and can play the guitar. A true all-rounder and romanticist,” he smiled.

He continued to reveal fun facts about himself for another half an hour. It was only at the end that you realized most of it was useless when writing for the paper. You groaned, realizing you had fallen for his trap.

Still, you learned some things about soccer and his position in the team. Following him to the cafe hadn’t been a complete waste of your time.

The next day, Sunwoo hunted you down to make sure you kept your promise about watching the game together. He dragged you to the computer room during study hall and pulled out the earbuds he prepared. He had purposely rummaged through his drawers the night before to the share wired ones with you.

You had to admit he was extremely helpful when explaining the rules and strategies of soccer. Despite being uncomfortable with the proximity of his body to yours, he was a great teacher. He made everything sound so simple. After you began to understand the game, you even found yourself enjoying the match.

After spending a week with him, you hated that you couldn’t say you still disliked him. After all, you two met almost every day for hours.

You had a gut feeling that you would come to regret it and were proven right. You had a bad feeling the moment you saw Jaehyun run up to you as if his life depended on it. Panting, he barely pulled himself together to show you the post that made him immediately report to you.

“KSW and Y/INITIALS seen cozily spending time together. Will he be the one to finally break through her?” you read aloud.

A photo of your backs from the computer room and a mosaicked side shot of you two at the cafe were attached to the title. The comments under the post were even more ridiculous.

“A challenge to be anticipated.”

“Poor girl will only end up as one of his many heartbroken playthings.”

“I know who KSW is. Who’s Y/INITIALS??”

“The legendary man hater? With a guy?? Wow how good must he be 👀”

“Damn so she rejected me for him?”

Your blood boiled and you shoved the phone away. Trying to calm yourself down, you closed your eyes and took a deep breath. And failed.

“What is this, fucking Dispatch?” you exploded. A few students passing by stared at your outburst and widened their eyes when they saw that it was you. You sighed, knowing that the whole school saw the post.

“I’m not a celebrity! Why are people so invested in fake rumors about me?” you yelled, trying to keep your voice to a whisper as you pulled Jaehyun into an empty classroom.

“I’m sure it’ll blow over,” he assured.

“If I ever find out who the admin of this page is, I will ruin them,” you glowered.

You almost didn’t go to the soccer practice that day. But you knew that avoiding him would only add fuel to the fire so you sucked it up and went to the field after school as usual. You heard the hushed murmurs that stirred among the team when you arrived and you wanted to turn back around and leave.

Before you could, however, Sunwoo appeared and shut everyone up with a warning glare. He announced that the coach would be late and to start by running laps.

You were more annoyed than upset about the post. It just stupefied you that people really had nothing better to do than gossip about you. You didn’t think you were that interesting.

You were so close to escaping after practice but Sunwoo caught you trying to sneak away. He stood in front of you, crossing his arms as if to ask where you were going. Giving up, you muttered a “fine” and waited for him to change out of his uniform.

This time, you two wordlessly agreed to go to a different cafe. With the bubble teas on the table in front of you, you sat in silence until Sunwoo finally spoke up.

“Don’t mind what the post or others say,” he huffed.

“I’m not too bothered by it,” you shrugged.

“Good. Because I want to get to know you as just Y/n and Sunwoo. Through whatever you wish to tell and show me. I feel like we’re always just talking about me.”

His words left you speechless. Juyeon hadn’t been kidding when he mentioned how thoughtful Sunwoo was. You felt your heart warm as you smiled.

“Well what do you want to know about me?” you asked.

“Anything. Everything.”

So you spilled about your interests, hobbies, and goals. It was strange. Although it hadn’t been long since you met him, you felt comfortable around him. He made you feel at ease and you didn’t think twice about opening up to him.

You told him about your struggles as a high achieving student. About the pressure you felt and how embarrassing it was to tell people that you didn’t have any dreams.

With your grades, all the teachers expected you to apply to medical school. On the other hand, your parents encouraged you to work towards a high paying and stable salary as a corporation employee. Your friends suggested that you go for something in journalism because of your passion and commitment to the school newspaper.

But the club was just something you did for fun. You didn’t know if you liked it enough to pursue it as a career.

Sunwoo listened attentively as you went on about your concerns. From the outside, you looked like you had your life together. You were the perfect student and the girl that many guys chased after. But as he spent more time with you, it became clear that you were very uncomfortable with boys.

“Can I ask how you got so close with the Bermuda line?” he asked.

“The Bermuda line? What’s that?”

“You’ve never heard of the term? Juyeon, Jaehyun, and Younghoon are called the Bermuda line because they’re the most popular athletes out of all the sports teams. The girls say that once you fall for them, you’re stuck in between them forever because you can’t get out.”

You hadn’t laughed that hard in so long. You knew they had fans but found it hilarious how the trio even had a nickname.

“Oh man, I can’t wait to make fun of them for this,” you laughed, nearly in tears.

When he told you that they actually took great pride in the title, you bursted out in laughter again. Their self love truly was on another level.

“So how’d you end up friends?” he asked again.

“Juyeon, I’ve known since middle school. We were in the same class for all three years. Jaehyun didn’t go to the same school as us but he was friends with Juyeon because they played basketball together. I met him and Younghoon at the end of freshman year. They kinda crash landed into my life but we really clicked so that’s why I still bless them with my friendship.”

Sunwoo giggled at your own overwhelming confidence. He loved that you never sold yourself short. He didn’t notice he had been staring at you until you pointed it out. Blushing, he insisted that it was nothing and took another sip of his bubble tea.

Two months passed by and you eventually came to call Sunwoo a friend. Younghoon teased you about him being more than a friend and at first, you thought he was crazy. But with him planting the idea in your head, you began to question your own feelings. Cursing Younghoon, you blamed him for confusing you.

As the designated photographer, you tagged along to the soccer team’s last match. The entire team was nervous as it would determine the winner of the tournament. Even Sunwoo was anxious.

Before the game started, you offered him a supportive smile and he felt all worries lifted off his shoulders. He erased all thoughts of winning and losing and just concentrated on the ball. He wanted to enjoy the last match of the season and look cool in front of you. That was all that mattered to him.

Fortunately, he got both plus the win. The crowd erupted into cheers as he scored the winning goal just seconds before the whistle was blown to signal the end of the game. His knees fell to the ground and his teammates rushed to surround him.

Seeing how happy he looked brought a smile to your lips. He jumped up and scanned the bleachers for your face. When he finally spotted you, he broke away from his team to run up to you and embrace you in a giant hug.

Caught off guard, you froze as his teammates hooted and applauded. You felt your cheeks heat up at the attention.

“Congratulations,” you chuckled, patting his back. “You did well.”

“Did you get a lot of pretty pictures of me?” he grinned, pulling away to look at you.

“No, I only took pictures of Haknyeon,” you joked. By now, he was used to your teasing and simply ruffled your hair in response.

“There’s gonna be an after party tonight,” he brought up carefully. “I’d really like it if you came. Only if you’re okay with that type of scene though.”

Surprised, you nodded before you fully thought it through.

That was how you ended up moping at Jaehyun’s house. The invitation was extended to the Bermuda line as well and they were all planning on dragging you there. Younghoon was excited at the thought of finally going to a party with the whole group and Juyeon was picking out an outfit for you from Jaehyun’s sister’s closet.

“I don’t know if I trust your fashion sense,” she made a face at the top he held up.

This was your first party and you weren’t sure how you felt about it. There was a reason you hadn’t gone to one throughout your high school years.

Nonetheless, you were dressed up in an outfit that definitely reflected Jaehyun’s sister’s style more than yours. She fawned over how pretty you were and urged you to go with the boys.

So you walked through the doors and into the house vibrating with music. Everyone who recognized you was shocked to see you there. Feeling awkward, you stuck by Jaehyun’s side as you maneuvered around the throng of people. When he finally caught sight of Sunwoo, he dipped and left you alone with him.

“Thanks for coming,” he shouted over the loud music.

“Thanks for inviting me,” you shouted back.

Sunwoo offered you a drink, which you declined. Following your choice, he opted for a soda instead as well. You weren’t much of a dancer so you enjoyed people watching instead. It was fascinating to see your classmates have so much fun.

You giggled when you saw Juyeon be so painfully oblivious to a girl’s advances and walked away to dance with Younghoon. Meanwhile, Jaehyun was having the time of his life flirting with girls. You blocked your eyesight when you saw him leaning in to kiss one of them.

“Ugh, gross,” you cringed. “I do not need to know this side of my best friend’s love life.”

Laughing, Sunwoo offered to take you outside for some fresh air and a change of scenery. You gladly agreed and let him guide you to the backyard.

The night sky was full of tranquility that contrasted the chaos that ensued indoors. You sat on the grass and Sunwoo joined next to you.

“You look beautiful today,” he commented.

“Only today?” you laughed.

“Especially today,” he answered in a serious manner. His sincerity made you clear your throat and look away. He stunned you by cupping your face with his hands.

“Can I kiss you?” he asked.

“Are you drunk?” you blinked.

“I haven’t had a single sip of alcohol.”

His voice was slow and raspy. Your heart was beating faster than you wanted it to and you knew the corners of your lips were betraying you.

“You can either lean in or pull away,” he said as he brought his lips closer to yours.

Your heart now felt like it was about to jump out of your chest. Red alarms were going off in your head and you didn’t know what to do. All you knew was what you were only a few centimeters away from kissing Sunwoo.

So you did what any insane person would do and closed the gap between your lips. You wanted to punch him when you felt him smirk but he pulled you closer and held onto you tightly.

The weekend passed without much changes in your relationship with Sunwoo. You were worried that you had either ruined your friendship or that he was sick of you but Juyeon reassured you that he probably wanted to talk about it in person. Anxiously, you overthought things until Monday finally arrived.

Wanting to keep yourself busy until you met Sunwoo, you stopped by the club room early in the morning to import the photos from the last game. Shortly after you connected the camera to the computer, you heard a knock on the door.

Startled, you looked at the door and saw Jacob sheepishly poking his head through the door. You told him to come in and he took a seat next to you.

“Kevin told me to drop by before class for an interview,” he said. You nearly facepalmed. You had completely forgotten about that. You were supposed to interview him for the paper.

“Oh yeah! Hold on, let me go get my notebook,” you searched through your backpack to find it.

The volleyball player was this month’s star of the month and you had to write a piece on his past achievements. He was extremely kind and was careful not to use any advanced sports terminology to make sure anyone could easily read the interview, which you were grateful for.

Before you parted, he gave you a side hug out of habit and apologized when he realized that it was only his first time meeting you. You laughed it off and insisted that now you could be friends since you two hugged already. Relieved that you weren’t disturbed, he happily waved goodbye to you as he walked away.

Being in a different class than Sunwoo meant that you had to wait until lunch period to see him. You honestly didn’t even know if you wanted to see him. You weren’t ready to face him yet.

When the bell finally rang and it was time for lunch, Juyeon forced you to go to the cafeteria instead of hiding out in an empty classroom. The moment you sat down with your tray, however, you felt all eyes on you. Your stomach dropped, knowing it couldn’t be good news.

“Y/n, is this true..?” Jaehyun asked, showing you the new post on the gossip page. You hated that you were always right about bad intuitions.

KSW and Y/INITIALS caught making out at last night’s party… is BJY a side hoe?

You had no idea when a photo was taken in the brief second you and Jacob hugged that morning. When you scrolled and saw the next part, your heart dropped.

A shocking revelation of history: Y/INITIALS and SYJ used to date in freshman year. Does this have anything to do with the swimmer and basketball players always next to her?

You felt your breath caught in your throat as you read through the comments.

“Isn’t BJY on the volleyball team and SYJ on the baseball team?”

“Wow she clearly has a type.”

“I guess athletes just hit it well 👀”

“And here I thought KSW was the hoe… who’s playing with who?”

“Aye so KSW finally managed to break through her. Thanks for my $10 bro.”

“Aren’t the basketball players LJY and LJH? And the swimmer KYH? The Bermuda line, right?? I always thought she had a thing with one of them.”

“So much for the icy Y/INITIALS. She was acting all pretentious when she was already having all her fun.”

Juyeon grabbed the phone out of your hands and glared at Jaehyun. You never thought your past relationship would ever get exposed. There were only a handful of people who knew about it and it had stayed hidden under the rug up until now. It was something you wanted to bury and never think about ever again.

Shakily, you got up and ran out of the cafeteria with Younghoon calling out after you. You ran as fast as you could. You didn’t stop until you busted through the doors and collapsed on the rooftop. Your lungs were on fire and you closed your eyes to stop the ringing in your ears.

Meanwhile, Sunwoo was running across the school to find you. When he didn’t see you in the club room, he changed his target and sought out Eric.

“Is it true?” he demanded when he finally saw his friend.

“I can’t believe people already figured out that it’s me,” Eric sighed.

“Is it true?” Sunwoo repeated.

“Yes, yes, it’s true,” he answered with his hands up in defeat. “She never wanted anyone to find out. We didn’t exactly end on good terms. It’s something I’m not proud of.”

“What happened?” he asked, trying to contain his anger. “What did you do to her?”

“I…” Eric trailed off. “I cheated on her.”

“What the hell, Eric?” Sunwoo yelled.

“I-I was stupid! And young. It’s the biggest mistake I made in my life,” he admitted.

Frustrated, Sunwoo left and ran off in search of you again. When you weren’t anywhere to be found, he checked the rooftop as a last resort. He didn’t expect to actually see you there.

“Y/n,” he breathed. You felt a lump form in your throat. It was the first time he had addressed you by your name.

“Get away from me,” you glared. “Was I nothing but a bet to you? Was I just a challenge for you to win?”

“Y/n, I never placed bets on you. I don’t know what other people have been betting on but I have always been genuine with you,” he affirmed.

You refused to let your tears fall. There was no way Kim Sunwoo was going to see you cry.

“I like you,” he confessed. “I like you a lot. I meant to say this that night but got too flustered. So I wanted to tell you today. Whenever I see you, the butterflies in my stomach won’t go away. When I don’t see you, I miss you like crazy. You inspire me to become a better person and all I want to do is hold you and call you mine.”

And now Kim Sunwoo has officially seen you cry. He bent down to wrap his arms around you as you sobbed into his shoulder.

“You’re an asshole,” you mumbled after you calmed down.

“I think you mean the opposite,” he chuckled. “Whatever barriers you put up to protect yourself, I’m going to take them down one by one. With you. Together.”

“Who said I’m helping?” you muttered.

“Then I guess I have to work twice as hard to prove myself,” he softly smiled.

“This is embarrassing,” you groaned.

“This will only be embarrassing for me if you reject me,” his hand reached out to the nape of his neck. “So what do you say? Will you go out with me?”

“I’ll think about it,” you huffed, prompting a chuckle from him.