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#--and has no idea what is going on and why all of the other guys have twelve layers of history w each other
fairuzfan · 2 days
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Sorry one more thing I wasn't going to talk about but if you had asked me about the binational state/land thing maybe... in 2016, I might have given a somewhat positive answer but I think that since then, Israeli society has become exponentially more racist and anti-Palestinian. Since then we had the Abraham Accords, Sheikh Jarrah, Massafir Yatta, the highest child martyr count in years, and now finally a full blown genocide. Many Palestinians who previously advocated for equality in a single state look at all this, especially in recent months and think "how can I live side by side with these people?"
The vast majority of Israeli society is not against war for the sake of the Palestinians, they're against war for their own safety. They say as much. Hell, look at standing together. The founder guy says "our security is tied in with the Palestinians'". So if it wasn't tied with the Palestinians', you wouldn't care? And I get sometimes you need to introduce people to ideas gently, but their entire organization language emphasizes "shared pain" when there is an oppressor/oppressed dynamic they aren't even hinting at. How can anyone achieve safety if you won't even admit you have power over your Palestinian org members?
Even Brothers in Arms claims to want to "strengthen democracy" but they completely ignore Palestinians have never experienced democracy in "Israel". So what's the point strengthening your own standing when the most disadvantaged still are at rock bottom?? Plus your whole group represents the IOF reservists/members, you have no intention of helping Palestinians when you are the primary oppressors. And this is not an insignificant group in israel!
Not many Israelis are willing to put themselves on the line to protect or even advocate for Palestinians. I mean 7+ months into a genocide and what did israeli society do other than protest *netanyahu*? Hold up flour bags during the flour massacre??? The people serving in the idf are your friends and family and community. Tel Aviv is an hour away from Gaza. Surely you can do *something* physical!! They had people at their Gaza borders starving Palestinians on purpose and people just... watched it happen. Not to mention the IOF, which many Israelis are a part of, participates in the genocide and has been lauded for their "heroism". I look at that and I think "how can I expect you to seriously consider my rights as a person? How do I know you won't miss your old status and reclaim it?"
We've seen Israelis *celebrate* and *ridicule* our martyrs and people. So like where us the good faith in all this? Where can we work with some of these people and think "Yeah I believe they'll respect my inherent dignity as a person"?
Which binationalism relies on this. You need to have good faith between communities for this to actually happen. But when one community won't even acknowledge it's status as an oppressor at the height of oppression? Then what?
Israel as a country has never faced any retribution for its actions for 75 years. No one is holding them accountable. The country teaches propaganda in its schools about the Nakba. There is not serious consideration for Palestinian rights in Israeli society. Why would they suddenly decide to participate in a project that puts Palestinians as equal to Israelis when they learned all their lives that Palestinians are ruthless, unreasonable people who can't be reasoned with, and Israelis are logical, poor victims who are actually the ones who need protection from the Palestinians!
It just is mind boggling because I see people constantly complain about the way they hear things from Palestinians these days like "all Israelis need to leave". And they go on to say "why would you be so hateful/why would you say that" and don't think for a minute they're experiencing a televised genocide of their people (which they could have ended up in their shoes! People forget that Gaza has multiple refugee camps! Any one of us could have lived there!) And conversely are looking to Israeli society for them to do anything and they see nothing. At least think for a moment why they would say these things given the context of the situation. There's a genocide going on! And you're worried about what the people who are experiencing their people's genocide are saying because you're worried for the society conducting said genocide?? Let's deal with the matter at hand first!!!!!!
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iliveraee · 2 days
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BEACH DAY — BLUE LOCK
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SYNOPSIS: as a manager during the nel, a well-deserved rest was needed. what better way to rest than a fun day in the hot summer air, in a bikini, at the beach?
note: this was originally a special for 100k reads on my wattpad book found (which u should SO read btw #shamelesspromo) but to avoid confusion i edited out a lot of mentions of the manager characters who were included in this short! i really hope you all enjoy!
wc: 6.2k
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TODAY
is a completely regular day of fun outings. Shidou had (in)formally organised a beach trip, something you decided would be a good idea. The NEL has been stressful on all of you, whether it be you and the other managers, the players, or even coaches—taking a good day off seemed to be a good idea.
So, you were heading to the beach.
The place where women can wear skimpy bikinis without being called promiscuous names (it would happen anyway—but in a perfect world everybody would mind their own business) and the place where strange men (some of those men may happen to be named Otoya and Aiku) would check out the local fauna dressed in said skimpy bikinis.
It was a fun day of splashing around in the waves, ignoring all problems present in your life, and unwinding in the grainy sand. You miss it. That is why, even though you're sure this will happen to end up in disaster, you agreed. 
So, this is what got you in this predicament now—thirty minutes before you had to get there with a ten minute trip driving—that was all that was left for you to remember everything.
Swimming outfit. A change of clothes. Sandals that won't trap sand. What else...
You ponder as you stare down at your duffel bag, filled with everything you need. Money—food stalls at the beach were always ridiculously expensive for no apparent reason, Floaties—you never know when somebody might just need some abrupt saving. Towels—plenty of towels, A robe—you'll probably be a little chilly when you get out of the water.
Apart from the obvious essentials like hair ties, deodorant, sunscreen, keys and whatever other odd things you need whenever you go out—you think you're good to go. 
You take a good look at your swimsuit. You haven't worn it in a while. A simple black two-piece with each front piece of fabric being held together with two silver rings—it's a little smaller than you would've liked, but you don't own any other kind, so you decide to just go with it.
You roll up your towel nicely and tuck it into your bag, then zip it up. You stare down at the fat duffel bag that is practically bursting at the seams. You are ready to take on the final boss—the beach.
₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎ ₊˚⊹♡
You stand in front of the mirror in the bathroom, pulling at the tight elastic band of your bikini. It digs into your skin slightly. Hissing through your teeth—you decide it's nothing, and quickly make your way outside.
With your bag under your arm, you walk out and look around. Two of the other manager girls said they'd saved a spot underneath a bright purple umbrella. It takes little effort to spot it in all its neon glory.
They both sit atop a beach towel, with odd things like sunscreen, keys, and waterproof mascara all scattered around them. You wave a little before you sit down on a part of the towel, taking in the sight of the beautiful beach.
Children running around, adults chasing after them—some guy was even getting told off in the middle of the waves for losing his swim trunks. All in all, the beach was positively bursting with rich energy.
You missed this. You haven't felt this calm in a good while. Dealing with all those rowdy boys vying for your attention—it took a toll on you.
Too bad this peace would not last for too long.
Your phone dings. You pick it up and press on the notification—it's a snap from Shidou. You hesitantly click on the picture and it's a closeup of his left eye—but in the background, you can see the side of the building you had just changed inside, and a shirtless Otoya is trying to kick at somebody.
You don't even have the chance to properly react when a loud yell interrupts your thoughts. You snap your head towards the sound so fast your neck aches—the source was Rin on the floor while, even though a second ago a phone should've been in his hand, Shidou is jumping him.
A smart, sassy quip and loud groans erupts from both you and the other manager girls—you slap your phone down and squeeze your face in your hands.
Perhaps this is the start of doomsday, you think as the overly massive group starts making their way towards you and your blaring purple target of a neon umbrella.
₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎ ₊˚⊹♡
"[name]!!" Bachira crashes into you—with the way he knocks you both to the sandy ground, he should be playing rugby instead of soccer—and rubs his cheek against yours like a loving cat. "I'm so excited to see you again! You never come by our stratum!!"
He's flat on top of you and the stares you're receiving start to grow uncomfortable. You push back at his chest but he simply opts to sneak his arms around your shoulders, "Bachira...!! Let me... get up..."
It takes the brute force of Barou King Shoei to remove his figure from latching onto yours. With a twitching brow and eyes that could stab daggers into Bachira—a small laugh unintentionally escapes your lips when he talks, "You're all sandy, you disgusting bug. If you get all that sand on the towel, I'll seriously kill you."
Bachira is being held up by the scruff of his water suit like a cat. He dangles in the air and flings himself at Barou next—"Fight me, king!"
"YOU—!!!"
Ignoring the upcoming brawl on the ground, you step over the two and you find your way towards...
"Hello, Isagi." 
Your voice seems to make him jump—his eyes widen in surprise at the sight of your face and he looks far too nervous to be speaking to you. "O—Oh... Hello, [name]...! It's good to see you again..."
He's trembling and making such intense eye contact that you wonder if he's okay. His fists are clenched hard beside his body and you think he might just about have a heart attack. "Are you... okay?"
He answers a little too quickly, "Yes! I'm fine, haha, why would you worry about me? I'm totally good! Best I've ever been! Why would you ask? I look okay, right? Well, I gotta go now! I'll see you later, [name]!"
He runs off like he's a high school girl who's just had her first conversation with her senior crush. I can't tell if he's insecure about how he looks or worried about being disrespectful to me.
Maybe it's a mix of both. Isagi is on the slimmer side, compared to guys like Barou. Even though I know he's not, he looks like he's on steroids. 
And Isagi's always been worried about being disrespectful to you—worried about overstepping boundaries and making you uncomfortable—at least when he's in his usual, clear state of mind. There's no telling what he's thinking when he stares down at you late at night after a good game with that overconfident, egotistical smirk.
Anyways—he's rushed away by now, and you're just standing here looking all stupid. Oh well. At least you're not alone for too long, because your attention is quickly stolen away by a certain trio. 
Karasu, Otoya, and Yukimiya all come up to you—only one bothers to wave or even smile (there's no surprise he's a model—he's seriously gorgeous, you note when glancing down at his torso).
"Hey." The sneaky ninja is not so sneaky anymore, because he doesn't even try and disguise the way he's staring at your chest. He gives you a thumbs up, to which you scowl, "Lookin' good."
"Get your eyes off my chest."
"Sicko." Karasu shakes his head with a disappointed expression. You deadpan.
"You too, stupid crow."
"Did your mothers not teach you respect?" Yukimiya clicks his tongue—eyes fluttering closed as he shakes his head. He soon turns his head towards you and he actually does make eye contact with you—a step above his two friends. "It's nice to see you, [name]. You look very nice. Ignore these two."
You promptly ignore the offended looks shot at the model—you opt to just stare, perhaps a little too dreamily (but you couldn't care less, really), and smile back, "It's nice to see you too, Yukki. Thank you, you look handsome today, too. I was planning on ignoring those two, anyways."
"Woah, that is seriously hurtful." Karasu places a hand over his bare chest where his heart would be. "Too bad I don't care."
You roll your eyes. "Of course you don't, stupid crow."
"Would you stop calling me that?"
"Would you stop staring at my boobs?"
He pauses. "Point taken."
₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎ ₊˚⊹♡
Having Nagi cling to you during your time at Blue Lock is pretty hard already. Believe it or not, he's 6'2, and believe it or not, having a grown 6'2 man hanging off your side makes it pretty hard to get around. 
Having a shirtless, messy-haired Nagi plant himself right on top of you and having his face smushed against the top of your chest is a little worse.
You can feel a burning stare at the back of your head. You're not sure if the stare Reo is giving you is directed at you or the snow-haired boy. (Perhaps it is both and he's just conflicted—you would understand).
"Nagi..." You push back at his head and slowly intertwine your fingers in the white locks. They're softer than you imagined, but the ends are unmistakably dead. You should cut it for him later. "Go swim or something."
You are disappointed (yet, not the slightest bit surprised) when he promptly shakes his head no and proceeds to dig his nose even deeper into your exposed skin. His voice is slightly muffled, but still plausibly understandable, "Nuh-uh. Dun' wanna."
Your eyes twitch. Perhaps you have been spoiling him a little too much—so much so he refuses to leave you be. 
"'Cause I didn't wanna go, but then mmmm... uh—Reo told me you were gonna come... and it wouldn't be too much of a hassle if you stayed with me. Hadn't seen you in so long. Missed you."
Right. You forgot he told you that before, too. Perhaps you had been a bit too doting on Nagi—he's clingy-er than you remember. Or perhaps it had been similar to that saying, distance makes the heart grow fonder.
A loud shriek (it sounds far too girly to have come out of Nagi's mouth, but go figure) alerts you and you see Nagi has been grabbed backwards into a headlock by Barou King Shoei. Perhaps he had turned away from the villainous side since your last meeting with him, because right now, he's saved you twice, like a hero.
Nagi doesn't even fight the King's death grip—he flops like a dead fish and it looks rather funny seeing it so closely. Nagi is taller, yet much lankier than Barou, who looks like a bodybuilder compared to the lazy snowhead.
"You're kicking sand all over the towel, Mr Hassleman." Barou snarls and jerks Nagi's head back. The boy doesn't react other than wearing his little :x face. "Go swim it off. Now."
Nagi does not make any visible effort to move. Barou still holds him like a ragdoll in his grip when he turns to look at you—you laugh a little and move your sunhat out of your eyes. "Hi, Barou. It's nice to see that you came. I didn't think you'd like the beach."
He looks a lot different with his hair down, you note. But in a good way. Fallen beneath his shoulders—you wonder why he does not wear it this way more often. He still holds his signature forever pissed-off expression, "What the hell is that supposed to mean? You think I'm incapable of having fun?"
You pause, with a small grin. "Yeah, kinda."
He gives you a deadpan expression. "You're the same as always, you shit manager."
"I thought our relationship had progressed to the point we'd gotten past these mean names." You place a hand over your chest, a cheeky smile on your lips with a faux-hurt expression. You didn't usually joke around like this—it wasn't really your thing—but he was just far too easy of a target to tease. "I'm hurt, King."
He cocks a brow—you see Nagi trying to wriggle around now, and it's good to know he didn't actually die—"Seriously? Didn't think you were the type of person to care."
"Doesn't matter now. You're gonna swim, right?" With a nod of his head, you break away from his sharp stare and give him a small wave with a closed-eye smile. "Well, I'll leave you to it. Oh yeah—by the way, you look good with your hair down. You should do it more often. Anyways, see you later."
You do not catch the half-hearted wave Nagi sends you—which was just him flopping his arm up in the air—nor do you catch the look Barou throws over his shoulder at you, "... Not too bad yourself."
He says, but you do not catch it.
Nagi stares up at the man with a blank expression, "Who knew you were all sweet on our manager, huh, King?"
The King in question growls like an animal and tosses Nagi into the ocean like a ragdoll, "Shut the fuck up!"
₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎ ₊˚⊹♡
"Beach volleyball?" Chigiri stares with confusion in his bright pink eyes as Kurona sits on Gagamaru's shoulders—setting up the tall net. His hair is tied up in a high ponytail, and his bangs fall over his eyes. "Are you serious?"
His head turns to yours when you shrug, "Why not? Beach volleyball is super fun. It's not like you guys can play soccer on the sand."
Chigiri pauses to think your words over for a second. You give him the most empty stare you can muster before you speak, "You really can't play soccer on the sand, Chigiri."
"Well, still. Are you gonna play?"
You shake your head and spare him a small smile. "No, I think I'll pass on this one. I'd like to see you play, though. You seem like you'd be really good at volleyball."
He gives you a pretty smile and shakes his head. "Oh, I don't know. I wasn't really planning to play either. I was honestly just thinking of sitting down with you and just relaxing."
"Oh, but I really would like to see you play. I bet you'd be better than anybody else out there, Hyoma." Not to be brass or anything, but you like to think you know a good amount about Chigiri—including how to get him to do what you'd like: Fan his ego. Or to put it in better words, praise him. "I think you'd look pretty cool."
You give him the nicest smile you can muster, and you're sure that's what seals the deal. He turns his head away from yours—yet you can practically sense the smirk he now holds—"Well, if you really think so, why not?"
You laugh a little as he walks onto the court, and each side with six players—even if in official beach volleyball, there were only two on each side, this was the most unofficial game you've ever really witnessed.
Otoya and Karasu are jumping on each other's shoulders in an effort to block the spikes—it only ends in the one on top tumbling to the ground and Yukimiya shaking his head in an I'm not mad, just disappointed motion.
Bachira is using his feet to play, kicking the ball up even when his hands were a completely more viable option—you think this is illegal, but who are you to judge—and Shidou is doing the same thing, except he... is hogging the ball. You aren't even sure how you hog the ball in volleyball, but he's managing it.
Rin is the one who manages to get it away from him but it only ends up in another tussle—something you do not bother to stop because one of the manager are already running toward them with a can of hairspray (which, if you were not previously aware, has the same effect as pepper spray if directed into the eyes).
You loll your head back and let out a heavy sigh. This beach day was going better than you had expected—still, your group by far had gained the most traction from how loud you all ended up being. You've gotten countless stink-eyes from old people, especially when Shidou yells out profanities in the vicinity of little children. 
You wonder if the police may get called on you all. Maybe you should pretend you're not in their group as a last-ditch effort if it does end up happening.
You are broken out of your thoughts by a small, almost nervous greeting, "Um... hey, [name]." 
You look to where the source of the sound came from—you get an eyeful of Isagi's bare torso before you see his face. He's looking off to the side awkwardly as if the mere action of looking at you would be purgatory, and he looks like he doesn't know what to do with his hands so he grips the end of his swimming shorts awkwardly. It's cute.
"Hi, Isagi." You smile. You shuffle over to create a little more room on the towel you are sitting on. You pat the free spot beside you and nudge your head towards him, "Come sit."
Obediently—you didn't expect him to move so fast—he sits beside you. He still looks stiff and nervous, so you ask him what's up. He responds, quickly but much quieter than his usual calm tone, "I was... um... ah, this is so stupid..."
He sucks in a deep breath of air and turns his back towards you. It's a little more built than you imagined. "I was... just gonna ask if you could put sunscreen on my back... I can't reach, and I trust you more than the... others."
You can practically feel the way his face burns up from how his voice cracks and grows more hushed with every word. To save him from the embarrassment, you decide to spare him from teasing words. "Sure. I don't mind. I'm glad you trust me, Isagi."
The words come out a little more sultry than you intended as you test the waters and place your fingertips on his bare shoulders. He shivers. You can feel it.
You spread the sunscreen all over his back—he places his face in his hands as you work your hands a little lower. When your fingertips brush against the waistband of his shorts he has to bite back a small groan. This was utterly humiliating for him—seriously, this was sad.
You're not completely oblivious to this fact, so in a menial act of pity for the poor guy, you try and finish up as quickly as possible—if only to save him from the embarrassment. 
It feels far too intimate to be just a friendly gesture. He wonders if you feel that way too. You lightly rest your palms on his tense shoulders when you are done, sitting on your knees and leaning your face near his own, "Done."
He'd be lying if he said his heart didn't skip a beat. He swallows thickly, blunt nails digging into his palms as he shuffles around so he faces you. The words that come out of his mouth are a little shakier than he would've liked, "T... Thanks... [name]."
The smile you have plastered on your face is nothing short of pretty, he thinks. "No problem. You can come to me if you need anything, okay?"
Why do you have to say things like that, [name]?
Isagi gives you a small nod, and practically forces a wavy smile onto his lips. "Yeah... You're really helpful, you know that?"
You laugh. "I know."
The mood between you two is calm and the strange tension from before has dissipated. You're smiling from ear to ear, about to say something—when Isagi's demeanour changes completely. You're not too sure why, but he seems to spot something behind you and his eyes completely shift.
Gone is the meek and shy boy, and in his place is a coy, smiling man. He places a hand on your upper arm—it makes you jolt and look at him in surprise. A second ago, he couldn't even look you in the eye, and now, he was shuffling closer towards you like it was the most natural thing ever.
"Anything, right?" He finally speaks, and he moves his hand up, away from your arm and it lightly traces underneath your jaw. He looks deeply into your eyes, but still keeps glancing behind you. "Can I do this?"
You do not get a chance to ask what this happens to be—although, it does not take a genius to figure it out, and you are no genius—or even spare him an answer before he grabs your hardcover novel and holds it up in front of where the two of your lips meet—covering your kiss from the other players that surround you all.
He doesn't dare take this further than a small kiss—yet, it wouldn't be considered a simple peck either. His hand holds the underside of your jaw lightly and tilts your head up so he can easily feel you and the back of the hard-cover book feels cool against your cheek. 
You'd like to believe the reason your cheeks are on fire is from the blaring heat of the sun shining down on you—even though you are underneath the shade of that purple umbrella. His lips taste sweet, like a fruity drink. You think a stall nearby is serving something similar to that.
You can feel his smile against your lips, and he seems to be all too happy to have you like this. He tilts your face forward and your body has to follow—to the point you practically collapse into his lap. It feels much more intimate now that you can feel his bare skin against your own.
Isagi moves his hand down from your jaw down toward your waist, holding you taut against him and letting his fingertips rest in the dip of your back. 
You finally end up moving backwards, and your sunhat almost falls off your head—Isagi quickly readjusts it when he pulls away. He gives you a sweet smile—though, it grows more cocky when he glances behind you again—and says, "You really are helpful, [name]."
You blush a little but still retain that same smile when his hands trace down your spine gently, romantically. "I know."
₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎ ₊˚⊹♡
Isagi joins in on the beach volleyball fun with Nagi after Rin and Shidou leave in favour of taking a dip in the sea (you think you hear Shidou saying something about skinny-dipping, and you pray to every god imaginable you heard wrong), so you are left to yourself once more.
You are perfectly content. Your sunhat lay on the towel beside you and your legs are peeked out in the sun—reading your book where you last left off.
Your life is perfectly calm until it is not.
Hands suddenly cover your vision and all you see is darkness. You jerk your head up and are about to say something when a heavily accented voice suddenly rings out throughout your ears, "Guess who?"
You could recognise that voice in your sleep from how often it haunts your dreams. You recognise that voice even before you hear it. You slump down where you sit, letting out a heavy, almost tired sigh. "Kaiser..."
"Ah! How did you guess it so easily, hübsches Mädchen?" He removes the hands blocking your vision and he suddenly plops himself down, right in front of you—of course, his little guard dog is right by his side, sporting his usual guileless expression. "Perhaps you think of me far too often, hm? Also, I told you to call me Michael. We are closer than that, no?"
You shake your head, eyes slightly squinted at him. "I don't know about that. Hello, Ness."
The puppy-dog boy waves his hand at you, clearly delighted. "Hello, [name]!"
Kaiser looks annoyed at this interaction. He scoffs, rolling his electric blue eyes and waving you off mindlessly, lashes fluttering closed, "Whatever. I cannot believe you're just reading at the beach."
You raise a brow. "What's wrong with that?"
He picks up the book by its spine and tosses it nonchalantly on the towel beside you, lips curled downwards into a sneer, "It's terribly dorky. You look like a huge dork."
"You sound like you care about that more than me."
"I don't want my love interest to look like a huge geek. Appearances matter a lot, you know." Yeah, you make that really clear. He abruptly stands up—Ness scrambles to get up as well—and looks down at you, finger curling upwards towards you like he's beckoning you to follow him. "Come on."
You blink with your nose scrunched up. "Excuse me?"
He coughs into a closed fist, looking up at the bright blue sky so he doesn't have to meet your gaze. He still holds a hand out to you, "Come on. Don't keep me waiting."
You're so shocked that you actually find yourself following after him—though, you do not take his outstretched hand and it is left hanging awkwardly. Ness would've taken it.
Your sandals flop on the sand as you walk down the beach, past families and couples and people simply wanting to tan—you follow behind Kaiser in silence while Ness walks beside you. You hope people don't think of you three as a throuple. That would absolutely not be good for your image whatsoever.
You pause as soon as you realise exactly where he is leading you. He's stepped halfway into the water when you halt your movements right before the splash of a wave hits your toes.
"Yeah, no thanks." You abruptly turn on your heel and proceed to try and make a getaway—you don't get too far until Ness grabs your wrist and tugs you backwards. You tumble into him—somehow, he doesn't fall over and only grabs your upper arms in his hands with a frantic expression.
"Please, [name]! Kaiser really wants to swim with you!"
Kaiser hisses through his teeth lowly and stares at Ness like he's just cursed out his mother, "What the hell, Ness?! I never said that!"
The small boy does not make it very subtle when he gasps in shock. Ness slaps his hands over his mouth and shakes his head—his voice is muffled when he speaks, but you can still understand slightly, "I—I never said that! Nobody said that!"
He's so embarrassed the poor boy rushes into the water and disappears beneath the waves. You wonder if he has become one with the sea. In the distance, you can see Kurona and Hiori chilling on a large unicorn floatie—with drinks and colourful straws—that should've only been able to fit one person.
You and Kaiser are now just staring at each other in very much awkward silence. You take a languid step back. "Well... If you don't want to swim..."
Once again, you do not get the chance to dash away because he's grabbed you and pulled you into his grasp before you could even react. You look at him with wide eyes—but you're practically putty in his hands when he bends down and clasps his arms over the back of your thighs, throwing you over his shoulder like a menial sack of potatoes.
Your sandals fall off your feet as soon as you find yourself tucked over him—you let out a very loud, very offended, very embarrassed gasp of shock, "What the hell... ?! Kaiser—put me down! Sick bastard!"
Your words have no visible effect on him. Your head slumps down when you feel him walking, and your hair hangs over your head. You get a good eyeful of his back. He's also more muscular than you imagined. Makes sense why he could even do this. That doesn't mean you're not pissed, though.
You can't see his face, but you can practically envision his signature cocky smirk and how it paints his stupidly handsome features, "I'm all fine, hübsches Mädchen. Are you ready?"
Huh? Ready for what—!!!
You feel so indiscriminately stupid for even asking this question—you should've already known the answer—because you suddenly find yourself collapsing into the water, salt filling each of your senses and the loud noises of children screaming around you fading to muffled nothingness. 
You jump up as fast as you can—you're just tall enough so you can stand with your chest above the waves. You start coughing to try and get the small amount of water you happened to swallow out of your system—your hair is now wet with the water and is suddenly heavier, and you're shivering cold.
Kaiser, the asshole he is, is laughing wildly at your expression. You push your hair away from your vision and you receive an earful of his—stupidly charming—laughter. His hands clamp over his mouth in a last-ditch effort to muffle himself, which only makes your face flush hotter with anger and your chest tightens.
You want to yell and scream into his face, but you choose the better way out. You puff your cheeks out and hold your breath as you dive back under, swimming behind him and slamming your foot into the back of his knees so that he tumbles forward, face-first into the water.
You've never felt prouder of yourself.
You bob your head back up and start to laugh wickedly now—it was his turn to look like a drowned rat. When his head comes above water, you can't help the tears of laughter that brim across your waterline when he gives you a deadpan, silently fuming glare.
His wet bangs cling to his face (somehow, it suited him—the mere thought made you feel a little angry, in the way that your stomach started to feel all weird and your heart skipped a beat or two) and his red eyeliner is smeared down his cheek. He pushes his blonde hair back, so that his damp bangs fall over his left eye and his hair is parted strangely to the side.
"Hmph." He looks away from your figure—you have to cling onto his shoulder to stop yourself from falling over, and your chest heaves up and down wildly to breathe. "I don't know what you find so funny."
You look up at him from your slumped position, eyes squinted upwards and you're practically sparkling with joy, "You... you look hilarious! Ahahaha—look at you! I can't—" Your words are cut off by your gasps for air.
Kaiser does not look the least bit impressed. He stares down at where your cheek is planted on the side of his neck, right where the blue rose lies. His hands stabilise you by falling into the small of your back—right where Isagi's fingertips once touched.
You finally regain your composure and move away from how you were practically pressed up against him—your cheeks are starting to hurt from how hard you were smiling, and you now sport a much calmer sort of grin when you stare up at him. "Ah... I'm sorry—don't look so mad—"
He rolls his eyes, which makes you chuckle, hands resting on his shoulders, "Oh come on... don't look at me like that... I'm sorry..." Your tone is far too playful to sound apologetic. He is slightly enjoying the attention you bestow upon him, but the thought makes his head hurt so he chooses not to reflect on it. "Michael..."
Fuck. His name sounds so nice coming out of your mouth.
He still keeps up the annoyed act, however, even when you grin up at him with that stupidly pretty, stupidly knowing look, "Don't be like that... I'm sorry, okay? What do you want me to do to make it up to you?"
The blonde pauses, blinking owlishly and looking down at you. You are still smiling, and he can feel your heart beating loudly in your chest. You almost look dazed, probably from your previous session of full-blown laughter.
His hands still rest lowly on your hips. He moves one and tilts your chin up with his thumb, "Hm." A smirk coils onto his lips and in an instant you can see the happiness that practically radiates off his being. "I think this will suffice, for now."
He leans forward, and suddenly, he is kissing you. Unlike Isagi—he wastes not a second to slip his tongue between your lips and kisses you as deeply and passionately as he can muster—it's so Kaiser, so him that it makes your stomach twist within itself.
His hands run down the side of your body—the places where his rough fingertips meet the skin that you usually cover with clothing make you jolt and goosebumps form on your wet skin.
His bangs tickle your cheek and despite how wet they are, they are soft. His left, tattooed hand finds itself on the side of your stomach and his blunt nails sink into the soft flesh—he grabs at whatever he can get his hands on. It's lowly and desperate and so unbefitting, so uncharacteristic of him—but in this moment, he can hardly find it within himself to care.
The hot sun beams down on you both and it causes your head to grow all hot and fuzzy—Kaiser's natural warm body heat is not helping either. You're feeling so much all at once that your hands unconsciously place themselves on his bare chest in a small attempt to create a sliver of distance between you two. 
It does not work. Your torso leaves no room or gap as you're sunken into his arms—it makes him groan into your mouth and god, you almost feel sick to your stomach when you realise your first thought after hearing it is that you really want him to do it again.
You're not underwater anymore, but you might as well be. Every sense is muffled—the children screaming, the cool, glittery water that surrounds your bodies, even the blackness that clouds your closed-lidded vision—all you can feel is him, his tongue in your mouth and his hands running all over the smoothness of your skin.
Suddenly, you feel your lungs aching, and you realise you need air. You try to pull away—but his face follows yours like he's a mindless dog, and you could've laughed at it if you had not been so stripped of oxygen. You need air and yet he's kissing you like you are his air—it's a fact that makes your cheeks flush red hot.
The only option you can think of is the next action you take—you squeeze your hand out of where he presses your chests impossibly close and entangle them within his damp, blonde locks—tugging backwards and forcing him to leave the slightest amount of space between your mouths, so you can gasp for air.
Your hand tugging at Kaiser's long hair, hard, and you hotly panting into his mouth—he'd rather be caught dead than admit this aloud, but it doesn't feel half bad.
Your eyes crack open slightly, and you have to choke down a laugh when staring at his expression. His face is flushed bright red—compared to his usual pale complexion—and his squinted cerulean eyes are clouded with unmistakable desirable passionate lust.
"Scheiße, hübsches Mädchen." He curses lowly, chest rising and falling erratically as he pulls you in even closer—if that were possible. You can feel every ridge and bump of his hard torso against you and the smirk that pulls across his lips makes your heart pound. "You make my heart race."
When your breathing starts to even, he closes the gap between you both once more, pulling your bottom lip between his teeth and biting down—you whine into him and he kisses you softly as some sort of minor apology—you'd never hear the word sorry come out of his lips, after all. His hand dips down to trace up and down your spine, while the other rests below your ass.
He slides his lips away from yours, down your neck and he rests his face in the crook between your neck and shoulders—pressing languid, open-mouthed kisses against the salty skin. His hair falls over his shoulder and trickles into the water like molten honey—it flutters around in the sea and he looks stupidly gorgeous like this.
Now that he's not blocking your vision nor taking over each of your senses, you can see now see the distant figures of your friends all playing together in the sea, including that of Isagi. He's talking together with the others and having fun while you're over here, making out with one of his most hated rivals.
Still, you can't find it within yourself to give it a second thought when his teeth sink into your neck, and his hands tighten around your upper thighs. He lifts his head after you whimper a little and push him back—he follows where your eyes lead and you're sure he also happens to see the head of your dear friend.
The smile that curls across his lips is nothing short of dangerous. "Oh, is that Yoichi? Are you worried about him seeing us?" You do not give him a verbal answer, but the way you look down and the way your lips tremble gives him everything he needs. "How cute. No worries."
He lifts his face and all you can see is him. His hair falls over his shoulder and his bangs tickle your cheek once more. His touch is undeniably soft despite the carnal look he sports in his sharp, angled eyes. "Why don't we give him a show, hübsches Mädchen?"
He whispers so delicately—you do not have the mind to shake your head no, nor do you protest when he slips his tongue between your obediently open lips once more, hands tucked around your hips.
Your heart will not stop pounding. Kaiser smiles at the fact that he is doing this to you. He smiles at the fact you are like mindless putty in his hands, and he smiles at the fact that he can feel bright blue eyes staring holes into him—there's nothing wrong with showing off, right?
© ILIVERAEE 2024
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martian-astro · 2 days
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D9/ Navamsa chart observations
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Jupiter in 9th is a great placement, even better if it's the 7th lord or darakaraka in d1. Your spouse will be intelligent. there's also a chance that you may do your master's or PhD after marriage. Your spouse can also have a job related to spirituality (one of my mom's friends has this placement and his wife is a reiki healer and also teaches meditation and hypnosis)
Jupiter in 10th is another really good placement. You and your spouse could start a business together, or you may meet them in your workplace. This is one of the placements that indicate that you'll earn more after marriage or once you start working WITH them (okay, so this example is interesting, i dont know how many of you know this, but there's an Indian company, dabur, and one of my relatives got married to the daughter of the brother of the guy who currently owns the company and let me tell you something, they are RICH RICH RICH, and like they helped my relative set up his own company and whenever we visit them, they give us such expensive gifts, you won't even find them anywhere, like custom made stuff) so if other factors support this, then you can get married into a super rich household
Venus conjunct ketu in 4th is a super common placement but I've noticed that it gives different results depending on what the ascendant is. A common prediction would be, that you guys will not get along with your spouse's family, you're gonna think that they waste too much money when they already have less of it. This is especially true for mother in law (I know a girl with this placement whose mother in law spends a lot on shopping and then asks for money from her, and she has to give in because divorce is not an option) i would recommend you guys to marry someone who doesn't have a mother 🥲
I KNOW SO MANY PEOPLE WITH MERCURY IN 8TH and it's so fascinating how it has the same exact effect on everyone. Okay, so this placement gives you 2 things, first, you'll gain a lot of money through joint accounts with your spouse, this could also be a marriage where you guys stay together just for money, a lot of celebrities have this placement. Second, your spouse is gonna hide things from you, like their salary (i know a woman with this placement and her husband was promoted and he told his wife that he was still doing the low pay job and he opened another account where he saved that extra money, while their family was having financial difficulties and stuff, it was a BIG deal)
Mercury in 11th is a nice placement, this could indicate a friends to lover type of story with your spouse. They could also be an extrovert, especially if mercury is in gemini. You guys will be focused on earning money but your whole focus won't be on money, like in 2nd or 8th house, it's gonna be more like "oh, this looks like a good idea, should we invest in this" kinda thing, i would say this is more like, both practical and romantic relationship
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Moon in 8th..... Not exactly the best placement. Almost all the people that i know with this placement have been cheated on by their spouse, and again your spouse could hide things from you, but this time it's more emotional. Also, i have noticed that a lot of people with this placement marry someone who's in the closet, so their partner isn't affectionate and loving towards them and they think it's their fault but it's not, but it still ends up hurting them. You, yourself, could hide your feelings as well, and your spouse can see that and that's why they hide THEIR emotions, it's like a cycle. (if you have this, i would recommend you guys to go to therapy, heal your trauma and only then get into a serious relationship and sometimes you push your feelings down and you think you're over it, but you're not)
Mars in 8th can give very different results, but it does give you a spouse who is very sexual (and believe me, it's not always a good thing). If Mars is strong then it gives extremely good results, the ability to defeat your enemies and win, i know a person with this placement and she's a woman and people around her have always tried to ruin her life and she still managed to get up and is now living a great life. But if Mars is weak or worse, debilitated, then it can give an aggressive spouse, i know a person but i dont think i should share her story with you all, but if Mars is weak then... Don't marry. BUT if 7th lord and darakaraka of d1 is SUPER STRONG in d9 then go ahead.
Venus in 2nd is like okay okay, not bad but not good. I feel like this placement works better when it's in the cart of a man rather than a woman. The spouse will be good but will be more focused on earning money, even if they're already rich. From what I've seen, men are okay with wives like that, but women aren't, they need emotional security so being with a man who is focused on money makes them sad and lonely, whereas, men with this placement are more than happy to get wives like that, In MY opinion.
Sun conjunct ketu in 11th is another placement that is common, I know a lot of people with this. So, you will gain wealth but it's going to come very slowly, the type to MAKE generational wealth but not able to enjoy it. Also, i have noticed that these people always end up marrying someone who is in a lower position than them, career wise and so they support their spouse and at the same time take most of the financial responsibility of the family.
Ketu in 8th is SUCH a strong indicator of having a kid before marriage, or atleast getting pregnant. All the celebrities who've had a kid before marriage have this placement, Angelina Jolie and Shakira are two that i currently remember but I've seen it in the charts of a lot more. And listen, THERE'S NOTHING WRONG WITH THIS, OKAY.
© martian-astro All rights reserved, 2024
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moondirti · 13 hours
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sorry to the soft simon lovers but i am fixating on the idea of him being too abrasive for greater society. no, hear me out. he can't be normal after what he’s been through. after what he's done.
cw: dead dove. sadism. inferred sexism and stalking. punitive harassment. idk guys he's gross. 18+ MDNI
he's just a little too odd, grim, ugly, cruel, rude. he stares too long and makes jokes that strike the wrong chord in most. he's into things that are not as sexual as they are humiliating to his partners, and can not be satisfied by any relationship his therapist would deem as healthy. even physically, he's torn in all the wrong places. his scars aren’t rugged but almost painful to look at. his hands are huge and calloused and 60 grit sandpaper against soft skin. his nose is crooked. his hair is shorn short. he has a mean smile, watery eyes.
the one thing keeping him from being completely ostracised is the flag on his arm, the one he fights for. but it's like putting a tarp over some horrible, disfigured mess – you can still see the general shape of it underneath. most shrug it off as fine, go figure. you teach a soldier to kill and they cope by being killers. it's funny because simon's issues began way before he enlisted – he spoors it back to conception, when his father gave him a part of himself that can never be scoured clean. the military is just where he resides to conceal the stink of miasma he'll never rid of. piss over piss. putting a reason to the barbarity.
for a while, it's enough. he sticks to the corners. for all his sadism, he's not keen on subjecting the general public to his complications. he's smart enough to separate good from what makes him feel good. he only interacts with others like him – price, mostly, who's better at playing pretend but has issues that bury their roots just as deep. or maybe he's able to see simon for what he really is, and the novelty of not having to bite his tongue is enough to form a gossamer bridge of friendship. he sleeps with masochists who don't know what's good for them, all of them men (though it never pays when they're into what he's inflicting). in between missions, he'll disappear to his shitty apartment that he pays for in cash and drink himself to oblivion as he scrolls through a deprecating XXX site.
if he gets inebriated enough, he'll open up tinder and swipe through the birds advertising themselves, as if he were the holy arbitrator of what's attractive. safe because he made it so that no one would match with him; his profile is blank. no bio, no age. Riley as his first name and a picture of a shutterstock german shepherd because having one photo was a requirement.
the lifestyle probably exacerbates his problems.
maybe that's why he reaches a point of no return when he gets a text late one night. he doesn't give his number to anyone, so the only app it could be from–
your dog's cute. what's his name?
it's to his sloshed astonishment that someone swiped right on him. not even him, but a barebones, dodgy profile he curated to keep everyone at arms length when he chooses to indulge in his destructive habits. you're cute too, suspiciously darling and a whole open book – five pictures, a colourful description and your city of residence. you cannot be short of options, certainly not enough to drive you to a point of desperation, so there's no mistaking what this is.
you're setting up a little pet project. something to bat at like a cat does a ball of yarn, with no intention to commit or ever see him in real life. perhaps you chose him because there’s nowhere to go but up. or because his disinterest seems glaringly obvious, and a simple risk assessment told you that you wouldn't suffer an obsessive stalker if you ever chose to ghost him.
unfortunately for you, that couldn't be further from the truth. that simple question is enough to push him over the edge.
he's tired of holding back.
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pomefioredove · 3 days
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Just read the whole "Yuu gets sold off by Crowley" stories and OMLLL THEYRE SO GOOD XDDD Any chance you could do more on it like if Niege won or if the parents heard about it and also decided to adopt Yuu and Grim?? Maybe the other staff adopting her too or more on Crewel's adoption please???
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requests for the crewel ending are in high demand I see...
parts 1 | 2 | 3 | kalim | 'bad' ending | RSA ending
summary: a crewel ending type of post: short fic, mostly speculation characters: crewel ft. other staff additional info: platonic, reader is gender neutral, reader is yuu, definitely pre-book seven, parents being cringe
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If Crewel were allowed to beat Crowley to death with one of his designer handbags, he would have.
...Unfortunately, with the adoption paperwork fees (...and a need for more designer handbags), he regrettably still needs this job.
And he'd like to keep an eye on you while you're still here, too.
The animosity between Crowley and the rest of the staff is unspoken, shared through passing glances and dry remarks at meetings, and though the matter is "settled", in Crowley's own words, no one seems keen on letting it go anytime soon.
The students who participated in the bidding war are subject to months worth of extra homework, harder exams, and worse studying hours from Crewel himself. To teach them a little responsibility, he says.
You, at least, are exempt from his radical new lesson plan. You have enough on your plate as it is.
After all, as soon as the legal proceedings are through and your identity as an autonomous human being in Twisted Wonderland is secured, the "fun" begins.
Your uniforms are tailored and rightly fit, you're given a proper meal plan, even Ramshackle is decorated with a few of Crewel's personal touches. A throw rug here and there, a fresh coat of paint, anything to cover up the rotting interior and turning it into something worthy of envy.
"...Given that Grim doesn't start shedding everywhere," Crewel had said. "Ugh, pets."
The rest of the staff are just as helpful, citing your recent experience with the bidding war as reason to take it easier on you for a while (or for the rest of the semester, really). Trein gives you less homework, Sam "accidentally" doesn't ring you up a few items...
It starts to feel more like the entirety of the staff has adopted you.
Not that you mind, of course. This is the closest thing you've had to family since... well, since coming here.
There's just the one thing, though.
"I don't know why you waste your time with those untrained pups. Honestly. The idea of their tacky shoes touching the rugs in here..." Crewel sighs. His eyes turn to you. "You know, I hear Vil Schoenheit has been looking for someone to take to his next shoot..."
Ashton chuffs. "Don't be ridiculous, they need someone who's strong enough to take care of them! Kingscholar is a real star once he gets motivated,"
"Please tell me I didn't just hear that," Crewel massages his temples. "And might I add, I'm their father, not you. I give the blessing. You're more like the unwelcome uncle crashing the family barbeque."
Grim nudges you with his elbow, muttering a quick yikes before darting out of the kitchen. You groan in embarrassment. "Guys..."
"I'm just thinking about what's best for them," Ashton says, puffing out his chest. "They're at an age where they're going to start thinking about dating, and we want them to make good choices."
"Guys,"
"Exactly. Schoenheit is a perfect gentleman, a master in my class, and has the style to back him up. Kingscholar can demonstrate occasional intelligence, but he's still another housecat," he shudders. "The shedding..."
A tired voice from the doorway interrupts their tense back-and-forth, much to your relief.
"Goodness, the two of you, at this again?" Trein scoffs, taking a seat at the table. "This conversation is highly inappropriate. You shouldn't be controlling the poor thing's romantic prospects, if they even have them. When the time comes, the choice will be theirs to make."
Crewel huffs, rolling his eyes and leaning against the table. Ashton kicks his feet. And neither utter another word.
"Good," Trein says, then clears his throat. "Ahem. But that's not to say that we can't offer our guidance. That Vanrouge did quite well on the last History of Magic exam..."
You groan.
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coco-loco-nut · 3 days
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pairing: Oscar Piastri x Reader
summary: idek, an unedited fluffy short blurb
requests open masterlist
———————
Usually your period isn’t this bad, but your body decided to rebel against you.
“How are you feeling?” Oscar asks, handing you a mug of tea as you are curled up on the couch watching your ultimate comfort movies.
“Like shit,” you groan, ignoring the cramp you just felt.
“I can make you a warm bath, maybe light some candles,” Oscar offers, sitting beside you.
“It’s okay, there is nothing Barbie doesn’t cure. You don’t have to sit here all day with me, go ahead and do your training,” you tell Oscar, watching to watch the old Barbie movies in peace, without Oscar worrying about you. He takes your hint without being hurt about it, he’s a big boy.
Honestly, you don’t know how you ended up with Oscar, he doesn’t really look like any of the princes, and those guys are definitely your type.
When Oscar reappears a few hours later, freshly showered, he notices you scrolling on your phone, humming to the music from the movie.
“Babe, I’m going to order pizza, what do you want?” Oscar asks, opening the app on his phone.
“Hold on, I’m about to get with you,” you say, fully invested in your phone.
“What?”
“This has been the slowest burn ever, but we are finally about to get together, in like chapter 20. I hate slow burns,” you huff.
“Babe, we are already together. You married me?” Oscar says confused. You finish the last paragraph and look at him.
“It’s fan fiction, Osc. You know, on Tumblr,” you show him your phone and his eyebrows are furrowed.
“Why?” is all he can say, unsure of how to react.
“I got bored of writing,” you say, closing the app and refocusing on the movie.
“You write the fan fiction? For me?”
“Ew no. That would be weird. I write for the more popular drivers. You know, Charles, Lando, Carlos, Max, Daniel, Lewis,” you list and Oscar just stares at you. You are literally besties with Lando and Charles, but you don’t write for your own husband? He’s honestly offended.
“What do you mean ew? I think how you scream my name most nights contradicts that,” Oscar smirks, your face flaming.
“That’s why it would be weird. I’ve written it but it will never be published,” you admit, a little embarrassed.
“Anyway, pizza. Yes or no?” you quickly reply yes, hoping to move on from the conversation. That night, once you fall asleep, he scrolls through your account, reading the fan fictions you wrote and reblogged. It’s weird, but he enjoys your writing.
The subject isn’t brought up again until one drunken grid and WAG dinner, where Oscar drunkenly blurts it out.
“Y/n’s written fan fiction about us,” he says and all the guys look at you.
“The girls love it. Some of your antics make for great stories,” you defend yourself.
“So true, I love reading them,” Kika says, the other WAGs voice their agreement about it.
“What?” Charles is confused, but Lando, being the child he is, gets excited.
“Which one of us gets the most written about?” he asks and none of you waste a second replying.
“Charles,” the answer is in unison, causing the Monegasque to blush. None of you will admit that Lando is a close second.
Over the next week, you get random texts from them, asking which ones you wrote, but also their thoughts on different ones. Charles is appalled and flattered by the amount of smut written for him. Lando and Daniel are the opposite, they love the smut and how they’re talked up. They also told you that they got ideas from some of them, causing you to want to bleach your eyes out.
Eventually, they found out which account was yours, sent it to each other, and started spamming your inbox with requests. Lando’s tend to be about him winning a WDC, poor guy can barely win as is.
After a week of them spamming your inbox with requests, you decide to post an announcement on your account.
Dear readers,
Unfortunately my account has been outed. I know you all love my works and when I post some behind the scenes information about GPs. Sadly, my friends who work in an important role in F1 found my account and it no longer feels right to write this anymore out of respect for them.
Thank you all ❤️
↪️ user1 she knows a driver doesn’t she
↪️ user2 or an engineer
↪️ cl16racer don’t stop 😢
↪️ y/username sorry buddy, it’s time
↪️ oscarpastryy yeah, it’s a little weird now
↪️ landomorewins it doesn’t have to be!
“Wow, the guys are really torn up about it,” you laugh, Oscar’s arms around you as you cuddle on the couch. You had been thinking about stopping writing them anyway, so it was just a good excuse.
“I just wish you’d publish what you wrote about me,” Oscar kisses the side of your head.
“That’s far too dirty and intimate. It’s what I read when you are away,” you say with a blush. “You can read it if you want,” you hand him your phone. He holds the phone where you can both read it, his other hand running up and down your side absentmindedly at first but more intentionally the longer you read, until you aren’t reading anymore. That might’ve been some of your best sex.
“From now on, when you write like that when I’m away, you send it to me. Promise, Mrs Piastri?” Oscar says, kissing you.
“I promise,”
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stylesharrys · 16 hours
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say it right [fratrry]
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summary: when harry’s delinquent behaviour gets him transferred to a new college, he and y/n (who seem polar opposites) form a strange kind of relationship. 
[this is a 2k word snippet. the whole 23.6k can be read over on patreon only]
//
It’s nearing five p.m. when Y/N comes strolling through the front door. She’s got a shit-eating grin on her face and excitement is seeping through her pores. She’s hopping on the balls of her feet as she closes the door behind her, cheeks beginning to ache but she can’t find it in herself to care.
She’s skipping through the foyer and straight into the kitchen when Raegan and Dean quickly jump away from each other. As if Y/N didn’t already know. She doesn’t say anything, can’t really think about anything other what’s to come tonight.
Dean squints at her. “What’s got you all chipper?” He asks and Y/N shies her face into her shoulder for a second before bouncing on her toes and clapping her hands. 
“I have a date!” 
Heads turn her way and Y/N finally acknowledges the rest of her housemates as they gather around her like she’s discovered fire.
“You… have a date? As in Y/N Jane Y/L/N, has a date?” Oliver quips, sheer confusion and disbelief laced in his tone and Y/N tries to not be wounded. 
She scoffs instead. “Gee, thanks, Olly.” 
He tries to stammer out that he didn’t mean it in the way she took it, but when Raegan swiftly jabs him in the ribs with an elbow, he falls silent.
“So….” Raegan raises her shoulders and brows expectantly and Y/N states at her blankly. “Who are you going on a date with!?” She hoots out, arms outstretched by her sides and wonders how her friend is so fucking absent all the time.
Y/N’s eyes ignite up and she grins. “Oh! Uh, Liam, the guy from the bar.” Y/N softly answers and she suddenly feels like they’re about to interrogate her, kill the lights and force her onto a stool. They don’t. 
“Oh, you mean Liam from Psych 101.” Dean clicks his fingers and Y/N nods her head sheepishly.
It’s hushed for a moment. “Wow, really? Liam from Psych 101 asked you out?” He repeats and Y/N feels that little tug in the pit of her stomach. 
Ah, they’re surprised, and by the tone of their voices and looks on their faces, she’s guessing they’re astounded that he asked her out, of all people.
“Liam from Psych 101 asked who out?” a gentle voice quarrels through the room. 
Harry bounces in easily, an airy vibe to his mood. He locks eyes with Y/N for a moment and he offers a tender smile.
It’s been exactly nine days since he played the hero in her time of need, and they’ve spoken every day since. They’re friends, to say the least. And although neither of them are subtle with their lingering glances and sheepish smiles, they’re also both completely and utterly oblivious.
“Y/N… can you believe it.” Dean says, and both Harry and Y/N’s smiles plummet, though both for completely different reasons. 
Harry just raises his eyebrows a little, hopes that they will lift the rest of his face and tug on the corners of his mouth to keep that fucking smile on his lips, though the frown lies heavy and he finds himself struggling.
“You’re going on a date.” He breathes out, nodding to himself as he clamps his bottom lip between his teeth. 
Harry isn’t sure why the new information has plagued him, not when he’s still been seeing Corina every other day and the fact that there is absolutely nothing between him and Y/N that goes beyond the means of a flourishing friendship.
“Like… like a date date?” Niall peeks at his friend.
Y/N shrugs and offers a timid smile, tucking tufts of hair behind her ear and she glows just a little, though she isn’t sure why. 
“So you’re missing movie night?” Mackey finally pipes up, words stifled by the piece of cake he’s just shoved in his mouth.
Y/N purses her lips and nods her head. She feels a little wrong. Movie night has always been her idea and she’s always given the other’s shit if they’ve missed one for whatever reason. Movie night is the equivalent of family night to Y/N, and she feels like she’s about to disappoint her family.
“Okay.” Raegan shrugs and Y/N feels a little load lifted from her shoulders. 
It’s silent again and she can feel Harry’s indifferent eyes on her and she doesn’t quite know why. 
“Um, Mais… will you help me get ready?” Y/N asks softly to her friend. 
Maisee raises her head from the book she was reading, hasn’t bothered to acknowledge Y/N’s news. She’s has hardly spoken to Y/N since the night of Harry’s surprise party, and it’s beginning to bother her. Y/N isn’t sure if she’s done something to upset her friend, she just wants things back to how they used to be. Maisee evades eye contact as she clears her throat and stands from her seat.
“Actually, I’m kinda busy. I’m sure Raegan can help.” She stammers out, surging past the group and leaping up the steps. No one seems to notice the strain between them or the way Y/N’s smile sinks into a grimace.
Harry purses his lips and steps out of the room, silently trailing Maisee up the stairs and he hinders her before she can get into her bedroom. 
“What the hell is your problem?” He quips out quietly. 
She spins and frowns, books grasped to her chest and Harry takes a few more undecided steps toward her.
“Excuse me?”
Harry jeers. “Y/N. What the fuck is your problem with her? Ever since the party you’ve been a no-show when she’s needed you. And back there, you literally blew her off in front of everyone. So what the fuck is your problem?” He’s essentially fermenting.
Harry doesn’t know what comes over him, can’t understand why he’s so hellbent on fixing their friendship. Before Maisee can say anything, Harry’s shaking his head and turning his back to her, stomping off into his bedroom and slamming the door behind him.
Maisee stands there, dazed. She’s more than a little speechless but part of her isn’t surprised. She’s had an inkling that there might’ve been something going on between Y/N and Harry and now she’s dead certain there is.
He’s right though. Maisee’s been avoiding her. She blames herself, for what happened with Chris at Harry’s party, and she knows Y/N’s too fucking nice to blame her, too. Maisee drops her books off on the desk in her room, staring at the pinboard on the wall. There’s polaroids of them both, Y/N and Maisee, smiling and giggling without a care in the world.
Maisee takes a deep breath and wanders to Y/N’s bedroom, knocking on the open door and taking a step in. Y/N sits on the edge of her bed with a solemn look, gorgeous hair, that Maisee’s always been jealous of, covering her face and she picks at her fingernails. Nervous habit.
“Hey,” Maisee whispers, Y/N’s head snapping up and her eyes are wide, hopeful. 
“Hi,” Y/N breathes and her shoulders raise as hope and love bubble inside her. She just wants her best friend back.
Maisee takes a seat beside her and smiles through pursed lips. “I wouldn’t have come up here if Harry didn’t convince me.” She admits, and part of Y/N appreciates her honesty. She stares at her with a slight frown and somewhat squinted eyes.
“Harry spoke to you?” She asks, and Maisee doesn’t bother to hide the humorous smile on her lips as she stares at the carpet beneath her. 
“Yeah, reminded me of what a shitty friend I’ve been lately,” She chuckles out dryly.
Y/N purses her lips. “You haven’t—” She’s cut off with a sharp scoff. 
“I have, don’t even try to deny it.” She insists. 
Y/N stays quiet, stares at the carpet too and this is the most conversation they’ve had in three weeks.
“I’m sorry.” Maisee’s apology echos through the room and Y/N smiles softly, a little happier now. 
Partly because she already forgave Maisee, the other part because Harry went out of his way to do something nice for her, for no reason. A blush squirms on her faded cheeks at the thought.
“Me too.”
// 
It’s midnight.
Her feet are raw, her jaw throbs and she’s pretty sure her eyes resemble a panda’s. Her heels (that she borrowed from Maisee) are dangling from her fingertips by the straps and the soles of her feet are covered in dirt. 
She’s silent, stealth like. She doesn’t want anyone to hear her sneaking in, nor see that look of utter exhaustion and embarrassment on her face. Her aching toes pad up the stairs, teeth clenched like that’ll somehow keep her movements light and silent.
She thinks she’s made it, that she could be considered for the Secret Service, but she forgets the uneven floorboard outside her bedroom and it creaks, reverberating through the empty hall. She stills for a moment, eyes clutched shut, lips pursed in a fine line like it’ll make a difference.
It doesn’t, and Harry pokes his head out of his door and smiles when he sees the side of her face that’s masked by her hair. 
“Hey… how was your date?” He asks smoothly, running across his face and he stifles a yawn.
Y/N clears her throat and sniffs. 
“Yeah, it was okay.” She mutters, uninterested. Harry frowns and steps out of his doorway and toward her. 
“Just okay? What’s wrong? You sound upset.” He notices, warm hand caressing the side of her cold arm and she finally turns around to him.
She looks absolutely fucking devastated and something about her tottering eyes and quivering lips hurts him. 
“He stood me up.” She sniffles, eyes flooding with fresh tears and he doesn’t have time to think before he’s pulling her into his chest and keeping her close.
She’s wailing into his soft, blue shirt and she feels so bad for ruining it with her makeup, but Harry shows he doesn’t care when he cradles her head snug into his chest and gently coos her. 
“You’re okay, honey… it’s okay.” He isn’t sure where the nickname comes from, he’s never been one to use them, but it feels right, like it was made just for her.
Harry reaches behind her and opens her bedroom door, carefully ushering her inside and she sits on the foot of her bed as Harry detaches himself for her. He suddenly feels aloof. He reaches over and closes the door before making his way into her bathroom, grabbing a pack of makeup wipes from her sink and pulling one out of the packet.
“Hey, shh. Look at me, okay?” He whispers, benevolently guiding her hands from her face and he’s surprising himself with this new side of him. 
Y/N swallows, breath caught in her throat as she does so and she’s so fucking enthralled by his kindness.
He gently wipes under her eyes, removing the smudged mascara stroking her soft cheek with his other hand. She stares at him for a moment, almost disregarding why he’s there, but then she remembers.
“Why am I never enough for anyone?” Y/N whimpers out and Harry quickly realises he’s on deep and untouched territory. 
His mind is screaming at him to run, to get the hell out of dodge… but his heart beats softly and he knows he needs to stay. She needs company and comfort, and he… Well, he needs to know that she’s okay.
“You’re more than enough, honey. Don’t do that to yourself. He’s a dick, okay? He doesn’t deserve you.” Harry comforts her, makeup wipe on the floor as he cups her swollen cheeks in the palms of his hands.
“Y/N Jane, you are the kindest soul I have ever met. You are smart, talented, funny, strong. You are so beautiful, Y/N. I promise you.” His voice is straining like he’s desperate for her to hear and believe his words. 
She does. For a fleeting moment, she does.
And then she kisses him.
//
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weirdo-fun · 2 days
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What Else Can I Do?
Azriel x Reader - Chapter 1
Hello everyone! This is my first ever fic. I don't know if this will be good at all or people will even like it. This idea has been in my head for a few months and I finally caved and wrote it. This will be a few chapters maybe 3 chapters long? I don't know but I hope you enjoy! Also side note grammar is not my strong suit, so if there are any grammar mistakes please be nice. :)
Chapter 2
Summary: Reader ends up geting turned fae and befriends Elain and gets super close with her. But Reader notices Elain gets treated differently, and Reader would like to change that but a certain batboy always gets in her way of trying to help her friend and under her skin.
Word Count: 1.7 K
Warnings: Bickering, slight dislike of inner circle, slight enemies to lovers, fem! reader, reader being sort of a rebel
Author's Note: Was this slightly insipred by "What Else Can I Do?" From Encanto? Maybe... (I do not claim or take credit for the song, all rights for the song go to the respected owners)
Side Note: Azriel will come into the story later I promise.
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“Why do you let them do that to you?” You ask Elain as you sit on in arm chair with both legs draped across one arm of the chair with your back leaning against the other one. The book you were just reading now lay on your chest as you look at Elain who is sitting, a lot more elegantly, on a sofa adjacent to you. You wait for her to answer as you give her a questionable look. 
She sheepishly looks up from her own book. “I don’t mind it. I know they only want whats best for me and to protect me.” You raise an eyebrow at her not entirely believing her. “Yeah, but doesn’t it bother you that they practically tell you what you can and can’t do?” You ask, pushing the conversation more. 
These have been questions you have had for a while. Ever since you and Archeron sisters were thrown into the caldron and turned High Fae, everyone decided, weather subconsciously or not, to keep Elain in this sort of bubble. Treating her as this precious flower that needs all the protection from everyone. You never had any ill will towards Elain, she is a very feminine woman who does tend to be on the more soft spoken side, which is what makes Elain Elain. This is what gravitated you towards Elain and wanting to be her friend. Being a very outspoken and extroverted person you always tended to befriend the more quiet types. It has always been this way since you were a child. The extroverted girl talking and hanging out with the introverts. You don’t know why you subconsciously gravitated to being friends with the quieter crowd when you were the complete opposite. Maybe it gave balance in your life. You being the talker and the other one being the listener. You don’t know why or how but those friendships always worked out when you were mortal. 
That was true until you accidentally, more like breaking a rule, decided to take a stroll in the middle of the night throughout the Archeron estate. You were a newly hired servant and you were too excited for your new job that you couldn’t sleep so you walked around the estate and ended up in the middle of the crossfire of the Archeron sisters, Nesta and Elain, being kidnapped. You of course jumped in to help but ended up being taken as well. 
After being turned and by the grace of the Mother, the Inner Circle allowed you to stay even though you weren’t related to the Archeron’s. You were still turned fae and needed a place to stay. Although the healing process was slow and mostly done on your own you never thought the inner circle was completely bad.  
It wasn’t until Elain finally started to come around and was healing from her trauma when you decided to befriend her. You guys fastly became close. Mostly thanks to you for always seeking her out and wanting to strike up a conversation. From the outside it may have appeared that you kept forcing yourself in her life but Elain wouldn’t turn you away and she would start conversations a good portion of the time. But it was when you guys started to become close that you noticed the treatment that the inner circle gave her. You never said anything in the beginning thinking you were thinking too much into it. But after so many days, and even weeks of the same treatment that you were questioning everything regarding Elain. 
You have questioned Elain about this treatment but she would brush it off saying things like “oh well i don’t see a difference” or “it’s ok Reader they are just being friendly and making sure I am ok.” And you haven’t pushed Elain further until today. 
A certain bat boy got under your skin earlier. And to be frank, he actually has always gotten under your skin when it comes to Elain. He is the master of the “delicate flower treatment” towards Elain. This treatment would be cute if 1) he was courting her, which he isn’t and 2) if it was dialed waaaaay back and the treatments actually respected her as being a true adult woman and not a fragile little girl. 
Azriel, is the bat that gets under your skin. You have tried to be friendly to him but he never talks to you and you never know what he is thinking. His face, although you first thought very handsome when you first met him, is always expressionless and stone cold. You have tried to be civil with him but because of your outspoken and extroverted nature he mostly disagrees with you for the simple fact that he knows you don’t like how he treats Elain. You have confronted him before about the matter in a friendly way but he shut you out and blew you off saying how you don’t know anything about what Elain has gone through and you don’t know whats best for her. The whole interaction left your relationship with him strained. And since then both you and Azriel have been on opposite sides on everything. Both wanting to challenge each other and win; never seeing eye to eye.  
Elain sheepishly shrugs. “I don’t think they really do-.” “Girl, no they do.” You interrupt her sternly. She looks at the ground and her posture slouches a little and you can tell that she knows your right. That her sister, with Cassian, and especially Azriel treat her as a fragile little princess. That anything can break her. But she survived the Caldron, she survived her trauma from it. You know she is a strong woman and you try to show her that; try to show the inner circle that. “You know I am right.” You say in a firm way as you swing your legs from on top of the arm rest to sitting right in the chair with your feet on the ground and back straight. She looks at you with innocent and confused eyes. “Well, I don’t know what to say to them when they tell me what I can and can’t do. I just agree because I don’t want to create conflict with them.” She softens her tone at the end, getting shy and embarrassed. “But is that what you want?” You ask her straight in the eye. “To keep agreeing with whatever they say and tell you how to live your life? To not have an opinion or a say? Is that what you want?” You ask in a calm yet concerned manner. “Well, it’s just that-” “Is that what you want?” “Well no but-” “Is that what you want?!” “I can’t just-” “ELAIN! Is that what you want?!” You yell for a third time. Wanting to hear her true feelings, her true thoughts and opinions on the matter. With no bullcrap excuse about how she won’t mind for stupid reasons. And no running away from this conversation. 
“No.” She speaks so softly that you don’t hear it. “What?” You ask leaning into her to hear what she said. “No” Elain says. You hear it this time, but her head is down and her hair is fell in front of her face, not being able to see her. “Elain what did you say? I can’t hear you?” You lie to her to try and get her to voice her opinion louder and to lift her head up and say it more confidently. She slowly lifts her head, straightens her back and looks at you with truthful eyes. “No. That is not what I want.” She says without her voice wavering. “I would like to go out shopping when I want to go. I would like for them to tell me things straight up and stop carefully stepping around eggshells thinking I won’t be able to handle it, that I might break.” 
You smile at her. Proud that she was finally able to say what she was feeling out loud. You walk over to her and pull her up to stand and give her a hug. “That is all I wanted to hear you say.” You look at her proudly holding onto her upper arms. “But, I still don’t know how to tell that to them. You know it’s hard for me to voice my opinion.” You shake your head. “We will take this one step at a time. Step one was to get you to voice out loud to me what you actually want. And we did that, so congratulations.” You tease as you walk back over to the arm chair you were sitting at to pick up the book you were reading. “Well then what’s the next step?” Elain asks curiously. You smirk and turn towards her. She sees the smirk on your face knowing you are already planning something. Her eyes widen in concern because every time you had a plan it would always get you in trouble and Azriel would always be the one to scold you. But you keep doing these “plans” because you didn’t care what Azriel was going to tell you.
“Remember when you told me that you thought my power could do so much more, than make pretty plants and flowers?” You ask as you create just a simple pink rose on your hand. “Yes.” She nods, not knowing where this conversations was going. You smile, “Well, I have been secretly trying to practice to create new things but it’s hard when just in the confines on my room.” You hand her the pink rose that you just created. “Why don’t we take a walk through the forest. And maybe along our walk I try to practice without the worry of the inner circles eyes and ears.” You ask sheepishly. “Look I know this is supposed to be about you but I would just like to be with my favorite person in the forest exploring my power more without judging eyes.” You plead. Elain nods and gives a small smile. “Thank you Reader for wanting to help me. And if helping me also includes me being able to see your power that I am super jealous of by the way, then yes.” You smile at her, grab her hand and both of you guys start to giggle like little girls as you guys walk out of the living area planning to “sneak out”. 
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That is it for Chapter 1! Did I also give Reader Isabela's powers?...Read the next chapter to find out! I am already thinking about chapter 2 and I promise Azriel and Reader will be interacting with each but I was setting everything up until then. But chapter 2 may take me while to publish because I am getting ready for my vacation but depending on how people react to this I may be motivated to publish it sooner. ;) Please if you have feedback leave a comment because I would love to read them. Thank you so much for reading and if you made it this far. Until next time, take care everyone!
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nervoussagittarius · 2 days
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bikers backpack
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matt sturniolo x biker!reader
summary: where matt’s girlfriend is a biker and at first matt is scared for her until he realizes it’s actually an attractive hobby, request
warnings: fluff, a little angst, language
“matt! guess what!” you exclaimed as you ran into his room. unbeknownst to him you had just bought your second motorcycle. your dream to own a kawasaki ninja bike had finally come true. you’d been saving up money from different odd jobs you’d done to be able to afford it.
“i finally bought my 4- stroke, six speed, metallic gray ninja 650.” you could’ve almost cried with excitement. matt knew this day was coming. he knew your love for bikes and as much as it made him anxious he couldn’t help but feel that twinge in his heart everytime you got this excited around him. in the two years you guys had been dating your hobby had only gone on in one of them.
your fascination for motorcycles steamed from the long line of harley riders you had in your family. growing up around the vehicles only made you want to learn to drive them more. on your 18th birthday you went out and got your motorcycle license it wasn’t until a year later that you got your first bike. it was a beat up motorcycle with over sixty thousand miles that you bought off of facebook marketplace, but it was your baby. you rode it everywhere and took such good care of it.
matt on the other hand hated the fact that you drove motorcycles. he was supportive in everything you did, as you were for him, but this was the one thing he couldn’t get behind. he was always a so worried about you because of how dangerous it can be. he barely liked being in a car. the idea of being on a bike with an engine made him sick.
matt looked up at you hesitantly. he didn’t want to make you upset, but he couldn’t find it in himself to jump for joy at your words like you did. “that’s cool, y/n. i’m happy for you.” his smile didn’t quite meet his eyes and you could feel the coldness in his words. you didn’t want to have another fight about the fact that you liked riding bikes, but you also didn’t want to feel like you couldn’t share your accomplishments or things you enjoy with your boyfriend. “can you at least pretend to care?” you questioned harshly. your words caught him off guard.
“i don’t care? really?” his tone changed. you could tell your words hurt him, but neither of you were ones to back down from a conversation like this. matt continued, “i care that 72 out of 10,000 motorcyclists experience a crash. i care that 80% of motorcycle accidents result in injuries or death. i care that california has the second highest number of motorcycle fatalities. i care about what matters so sorry if your upset that i’m not thrilled about your new purchase.”
choosing not to argue with him you simply backed out of his room and left his house. you felt like matt didn’t trust you. you knew the statistics but you were always so careful. you wore a helmet and protective gear. you never rode by yourself, you always had at least one other biker with you. you took all the necessary precautions so you didn’t know why matt wouldn’t listen to you about this. you would give him a chance to cool off and maybe bring the topic back up at a later time. you wanted him to know how you felt but maybe it was better to do it at a time where you both were more level headed.
later that night, after having a conversation with chris about how it’s your life and not his, matt felt like he owed you an apology. both you and chris were right. he was focusing on the wrong things. all he wanted was for you to be happy but him being negative wasn’t going to help you achieve that. matt made his way over to your house ready to talk, but as he pulled down your street he couldn’t help but notice you in your driveway ready to leave on your new motorcycle.
pulling up next to you, he couldn’t help but feel attracted to the sight in front of him. you were always beautiful, but for some reason his body gave him a different response to seeing you next to your bike. “what are you doing here?” you questioned as matt got out of his car, your voice barely above a whisper. “i came to apologize. i was wrong to get upset like that. i should’ve been more supportive because i know how much you enjoy this kind of stuff. so i’m sorry.” his words meant a lot to you. you had been feeling extremely discouraged since you left his house so you needed to hear this.
before you could even respond matt threw out, “also, i want to go on a ride with you.” to say you were shocked would be a complete understatement. “you want to go on a ride?” “yep.” you looked at him in denial. “a ride on a motorcycle?” he just responded with a nod and a smile.
“are you sure because you really don’t have to. i really appreciate your apology, but i don’t want you to do anything that’s going to make you uncomfortable or anxious.” you quickly said.
“no i want to, sweetheart. i think some exposure therapy would be good for me, and to be completely honest you look so good right now, you could probably get me to do anything you wanted.” he sent you a wink as he came over and put his hands on your waist. matt tilted his head down slightly so you guys were eye level before pressing his lips to yours.
you never thought you’d see the day where matthew sturniolo was putting on a helmet and was willingly getting on a motorcycle. not that you were complaining though. you put your helmet and gloves on, “are you 100% sure you want to do this?” you asked. matt flipped the visor of his helmet down and gently bonked his head against yours. “get on baby let’s go.” he said pulling you hand.
and with that you sat in front of him with his arms wrapped around you, and you went off on your memorized path to where you planned to meet up with some of your friends that also ride. it was safe to say that after the first couple minutes matt enjoyed himself. he took notice to you attention to the world around you, which he appreciated, and he was happy to know more about the hobby you loved so much. matt was now your personal backpack
an: this is shorter then normal but i haven’t written in a couple weeks so i need to get back into it. i thought this was cute though and i hope y’all enjoy
taglist: @maryx2xx @norr1ssturni0lo @recklessmatt @luvr4miya @hpyjw @unbruisable @watercolorskyy @elliewrites1 @rheaasturn @slxt4matt @mmay4ever @aurizp
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lettersofgold · 2 days
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-> play no games | trent alexander arnold
genre: flirty, smut | authors note: me trying to distract yall from the lack of updates from my jules fic…bare with me, also very loosely proofed
summary: trent thought he was a player on and off the field but he comes to realize he’s met his match with you, a socialite with an unwavering stubbornness.
faceclaim: lori harvey
“you know what your problem is? you don’t ever see the big picture. i want you to take me serious.”
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youruser: diamonds are a girls best friend
frienduser: 🥵
frienduser: tell a friend to tell a friend! she’s baaaack
lanceuser: obsessed with you
lanceuser: how you want your eggs in the morning?
youruser: scrambled & in mykonos
Trent heard the rumors very early on when he joined the main squad at Liverpool - there was this girl and she was untouchable, she was the step daughter of one of the board members and she rarely gave anyone the time of day. Trent scoffed at the idea of her because he knew he could pull her if he had the opportunity. He couldn’t lie to himself and say he didn’t like the idea of a challenge. If there was one thing Trent was known to do it was win - on the pitch, off the pitch, mind games and in games that didn’t even matter. Your attitude was bratty and you had a smart mouth on purpose - if a man couldn’t keep up he got cut off. Trent could keep up and you wanted to push until he pushed back. You gave him an inch and he took a mile: one date, a little fooling around and suddenly, he was feeling himself. Trent kept expecting you to come back around, to reach and ask for his attention because he never texted first. He thought you were waiting for him. It never crossed his mind that you were entertaining someone else because in his mind, it was only him and he had the upper hand. But what Trent didn’t know was that there were plenty of men who wanted you and wanted to treat you right.
Trent sucked his teeth and rubbed his mouth with his finger tips. He literally sat upright from his laid back position on the couch, putting his elbows on his thighs. He stared at the comments for far too long. Who the fuck was Lance? Why the fuck were you dating a guy named Lance? Surely the two of you were just friends but Trent had no way to find out because the other man’s page was entirely private. The two of them shared a few mutual friends but that’s all Trent could find out.
After few days, Trent was fine with it. He wasn’t stressed over you and your whereabouts…not outwardly at least. He spent few nights on vacation in London, partying and entertaining pretty girls who were chasing him down for attention. It was in the middle of the club that he got a notification that you posted and he felt a certain satisfaction finding out what you were up to - he clicked on your profile as quickly as he could. He was taken aback by two things: you in that tiny ass bikini and lance scrambling you fucking eggs, in fucking Mykonos.
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youruser: the grass is greener wherever i’m at
frienduser: not you being in mykonos fr lmao
frienduser2: frienduser it’s the way she can go to another country but not liverpool
youruser: you know i would never miss derby with my girls
lanceuser: what about my scrambled eggs 😔
youruser: best part of the trip, chef
“What a fucking joke.” Trent seethed and the girl next to him leaned in to get a look at his phone which he promptly locked. Never let your left hand know what your right hand is doing - rule number one that the veterans told him. He was on a roster and he has roster - it’s what guys his age did. You clearly hadn’t learn that rule as you flirted with a man all over your social media. There was one thing you told him that he kept in the back of his head: “You think I’m worried over you? You’re out of your mind.” He finally saw what everyone had warned him of all along. You got what you wanted and you toed the line of confidence and cockiness. Once upon a time, someone said the same about Trent. The boy was determined to get your attention, to get back into the game you were obviously playing. Trent sent a text he knew you would respond to.
Trent: I’ve seen the post. You can delete it now.
You: Stay out of my business.
Trent: You are my business.
You: You wish.
Trent: Anyone ever told you that you’re a brat?
Trent: I’ll see you in Liverpool
Derby day was fun for a multitude of reasons but this year was going to exceptionally fun. There was a part of you that looked forward to actually watching the match for once. You had one player on your mind. Your step-dad got you, your stepbrother, and all your friends a suite filled with drinks and food galore, pulling out all the stops and sparing nothing. Although he wasn’t the one who raised you, he made sure to take care of you as if he did. It’s exactly where your “high” standards came from, as told by your friends and men who approached you. It wasn’t lost on you that the Liverpool vintage jumper that landed on your doorstep was from Trent. You didn’t wear the jumper. Instead you opted for a Van Dijk jersey: it was the only one you had and it would make him angry. It worked out in your favor while you were hosting in the suite - a young business man named Emmanuel struck up a conversation and was beside you the entire match.
Your eyes were trailing Trent. He was such a man when it came to competing - no holds barred, a loud mouth, an instigator, and a full on menace. You enjoyed every second and each glass of champagne sent you spiraling into the idea of him being back in your bed once more, having you bent over and being bossed around. It would be inevitable that he would be coming back to your place at the end of the night but it was all about who caved first. You found yourself wanting to cave halfway through the game after an altercation where Trent was head to head with an Everton player, shoving him and ripping him a new one all in front of the referee, who could barely pull them apart. It was quite possibly the hottest thing you’d ever seen. After the win, you and your friends milled about the suite making plans for the night out. You all agreed on heading back and changing before meeting up for pre-drinks at Lance’s house. You made it back to your room and argued with yourself about being the one to send a text before you decided to stand your ground. You wanted him. But if he wanted you, he would have to work for it. Talk was cheap, you told him multiple times and you wanted action.
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youruser posted on their story! captioned: super busy, don’t call
trentalexanderarnold66 replied to your story: wya
youruser: you wanna see me or something?
trentalexanderarnold66: or something
trentalexander66: got a section in london tonight bring your friends.
youruser: what part of super busy did you not get?
trentalexander66: text me when you’re outside, brat
You arrived on your own timing as Trent had come to learn over the past month casually dating you, and had grown to find sexy. You never let on to what your next step was which kept every man watching, waiting, to see where you would land. The funniest part of the night was that for once, Trent knew you would be coming back with him. Until he saw you walking to his section with Lance in tow. He stood up to greet you at the front but you walked past him and promptly to the section next to his before acknowledging him. Trent walked up the short wall that divided the two sections and crossed his arms ass you detached yourself from Lance who was talking in your ear. Dick, Trent thought.
“Do you think the world revolves around you or something?” All you did was laugh before turning your attention to the waiter who asked what you wanted a bottle of. “You’re not in my section. Why?”
Trent leaned his elbows down on the divider to be eye to eye with you. You tilted your head in the same way you did that night in your room, your eyes trailing down his face and pausing on his lips for a long moment before snappingback to his.
“I wanted my own.” You said as if it was obvious. Trent beckoned you closer with his fingers and you obliged much to his surprise and crossed your arms at your wrist behind your back. Your head was still tilted and Trent dropped his head into the open space before speaking low in your ear.
“Don’t start with me.” Your eyes flicked to the side and saw the section of men and women pretending to not notice the interaction unfolding - specifically the bottle blonde who tried to look unbothered. She was failing. You giggled in the most unphased manner but the truth was him in your ear hit your core like a lighting rod. You needed that drink. You grabbed his jaw softly with a smile he knew to be sarcastic, “Start what?” You puckered you lips and blew an air kiss towards him, then turning your attention to the bottle blonde sat across the way. “I love your hair!” Your hand finally left his jaw and you wiggled your fingers at him mouthing a “she’s cute”. Check mate. Lance shook his head as he handed you a drink and tsked at you. “You are awful.”
You were brushing your teeth in his bathroom, extra thankful he had extra brushes in there. He noticed what products you had at your own place and made sure you had the same at his house. He was done talking, he showing you he wanted this. But you couldn’t be so vulnerable. As you walked through your night routine, your body ached in the best way. Trent’s arms snaked around your abdomen to cradle you from behind as he always did when you were getting ready to go to sleep after a night with him. It was a routine at this point, one that you both knew well. His body towering over you as he would slip his hands onto your abdomen, letting his fingers caress your stomach. Your breathing hitched at the softness but you stood rooted in your spot. He stared at you in the mirror and asked, “What do you want?” You knew that Trent drank a considerable amount but you didn’t think that it would bring out this conversation. You wanted him but need him to want you too, so instead you simply replied “Hermés.”
“I’m being serious, what do you want.” He straightened up and placed a hand on each side of you.
“What are you going on about now, Trent. I don’t want anything….well, I actually do want Hermes.”
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youruser: bad gyal never run from nobody
frienduser1: moving different these days
frienduser2: can your man fight pookie?
youruser: if you want me just say that but lemme ask him
Trent knew you could buy the bag yourself but he bought it and sent it to you, anyways. You made no comment on it but seeing you wear it was enough confirmation that you loved it. Trent laughed outwardly at your friends comment but noticed your reply and smirked to himself - her man? Interesting. You cleared the air about Lance weeks ago and Trent felt secure about what you two had. You rarely saw any other man these days. Usually you would be out every weekend on a dinner date or jetting off to meet a new person in another city. Trent was magnetic and you decided that you didn’t want what was out there - he was proving to be the best you could ever had. He knew it and so did you. Trent fooled himself because the next time he saw you, after a few nights of pure banter and great sex, you were cozy and close with a man in the family area after a game. Your step-dad was near and smiling at the two of you, while the two of you talked over one another, arguing with playful energy. The energy that took weeks for Trent to unlock out of you. Trent dapped up his friend and decided now was a good time to introduce himself to the executive board member but most importantly, your step-dad.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, heard nothing but great things from you son.” Your dad beamed and you were tight lipped as you looked at the scouse grinning devilishly. “Listen, sweetheart,” your dad wrapped his arm around Trent. Trent went from grinning to beaming his bright, cocky smile, “Without him, we’d fall apart.”
“Nah nah, I wouldn’t say tha’.” “Oh don’t be humble. I’m being rude, this is Trent.” and your stupid fuck-thing offered you a handshake.
“Trent, nice to meet you.” You took his hand and squeezed it tight which he returned. His eyes were challenging but showed disapproval.
“Ditto, heard so much about you, too. You know Emmanuel was telling me all about your stats this season.”
You were playing with fire but you didn’t care. The audacity he had was beyond you and you should have seen it coming from a mile away. It seemed that no amount of reassurance was getting through his thick skull - if he saw you with a man, he was questioning you. Trent wanted to mentally spar with you and measure up the man simultaneously. He was a jealous little thing but unlike the other men, he didn’t just talk about it, he was about it. It was all of five minutes when he arrived at your place before he started his tangent.
“You know what your problem is?” He goaded. “No but I’m sure you’re going to tell me.” You rolled your eyes and it seemed to tick him off more.
“You aren’t serious! One minute your smiling me face then the next, your with some guy named Emmanuel at my game who’s chatting you up about my stats.” “Why is that when a man even breathes the same air as me or strikes up a conversation it’s my fault? You think I just sleep around?”
You couldn’t stifle the laugh you let out as pushed his way past you and into your room. His hand ran down his face and he scanned the lavish room. Trent knew you were well off but it still surprised him at times.“Why are you letting a guy chat to you?” He said with a cross of his arms. He looked cozy in Nike Tech despite the frown on his features.
“Why are you worried? You aren’t my boyfriend.”
“I’m your man and it seems everyone knows except you.”
“We aren’t doing this right now. I have to get ready to go out.”
“We are. Sit down, y/n.” He said confidently. He closed the space between you two. If it was any other man you wouldn’t have been bothered but with Trent, you were turned on. He was jealous. You knew Trent saw you hugging and laughing with Emmanuel when you walked down to the pitch briefly. Emmanuel reveled in your attention and you gave it to him to pacify your stepdad. It didn’t matter that he or any other man wanted you - you wouldn’t cross that line. He was sweet but you two were strictly friends. You stepped closer to the tall and broad man with a tilt of your head, refusing to do what he wanted. Trent eyed you for a moment and you could smell the gum he was chewing mixed with his cologne. His smile was arrogant as always. Him being jealous was so delicious, you wanted to devour every bit of him.
“Make me.”
Before you knew it, you were straddling him on your bed as he palmed every bit of your body he could grab. His hands were rough but felt so right in your hair as he kissed you. He was vocal with his kisses, mumbling how beautiful he thought you were and how badly he wanted you. His kisses trailed from your lips down your neck and to your collarbone, finding the exposed skin in the dip of your top. Your spot straddling his body wasn’t enough for him. “I need these off,” he commanded. He peeled your top off and made a swift move for your pants, wrapping one arm around your waist to hold you steady.
“You’re needy,” you replied but obliged to balance your weight to take off your shorts.
“Shut up.” Trent’s tone was deep and serious.
Trent was driven by the idea of being better than than any man who had ever touched you, truthfully. He found himself giving the same energy he would give to a match, being attentive and receptive to all your sweet moans. He took his time devouring you and unraveling any tension in your body that he could find. The way you whispered his name out, gasping for breath with each stroke he thrust into you. He was amazed by how perfect it all felt. You felt like everything he ever needed. The feeling of you around him was unlike any woman he has ever been with. Your body melted into his as he gripped the headboard steadying himself into a rhythm, making you beg for him. His chain dangled low against your skin and you found yourself fingering it and pulling it, bringing your lips up to his ear. His skin was smooth against yours and you clung to him with the same amount of urgency he was using to pound into you.
“God, you’re right there.” You told him in between desperate gulps of air, the sound so sweet in his ear and it took all the willpower he possessed to not combust in an instant. His eyes found yours and for a moment you could hardly breathe - not because of the way it felt like he was looking right into you.
“You’re unreal,” Trent spoke, finally breaking the way-too-intimate eye contact. He grunted with aggressive strokes. His eyes were trained on the sight of his cock going in and out of you, the wetness glistening off his skin. “I know.” You moaned, refusing to compliment him back but you knew he was getting off on you and your slick mouth. It wasn’t until a two hours later that that the two of untangled yourselves from one another and fell asleep.Trent did things that took you by surprise and had you struggling to hold back your screams. He egged you on, telling you to be loud, he didn’t care who heard. And by the time you woke up your voice was incredibly sore. You had multiple missed calls from your friends and from Lance. You rushed into the bathroom to assess how you looked and called them, letting them know you were going to be a little late. You ran the shower and mentally prepared yourself for going out after having the kind of sex that made you want to not leave bed at all.
“I fell asleep but won’t be long,” you spoke as you rummaged through your toiletry bag. “I’ll text you once I’m in the Uber.” “Sounds good.” Lance replied. “Lance, save me a shot will you? I need one. Bad.” He chucked and it brought a smile to your face.
“Anything for you. See you soon, love.”
“There’s no way you’re going to see another guy after tha’” Trent grumbled from the doorframe and the roll of your eyes was almost immediate. You made no comment and moved to grab your shampoo but Trent beat you to the counter and stood in front of you stuff. “Move.” You demanded.
“Make me.” He smirked.
“Bite me.” And it was his turn to roll his eyes. Your tone was snappy and it shocked him how quickly you reverted back to bratty attitude after sleeping with him. Trent’s stare was fierce - it was the same one he used on his opposition, baiting them with a look before toying around with them but you weren’t new to these games. You were playing too. So there the two of you stood in the steamy bathroom, eyes locked at as if you despised each other. As if you were just chest to chest and moaning each other’s name.
“I can do this all night.” You stated.
“I think there’s better things you could do all night, doll.”
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youruser: he’s obsessed with me
frienduser: a scouse? a red??! i’ve lost my girl smh
frienduser2: y’all go together!
youruser replied: real bad
trentalexanderarnold66: 🤫
youruser replied: love you honey
lanceuser: only took forever
trentalexanderarnold66 replied: blame it on the brat
lanceuser replied: thank you for taking her off my exhausted gay hands
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ddarker-dreams · 3 days
Note
BRILLIANT fucking idea: SR reader insinuating/offhandedly admitting… she has never been intimate. everyone hearing it like 🧍🏾‍♀️ how do you mean. idk j the flustered bashfulness of suddenly being like “wajt wait if im her bf ,,, im her first love”
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SCREAMINGGGGG
[Scarlet Ribbons index]
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Giorno
Giorno is a bit strange because he almost wishes he had a predecessor to analyze (and completely outshine). He isn’t disappointed per se, he’s not that weird, but having more study material never hurts. Positive relationships are foreign to him, since he’s been distant from others most of his life. He got along with people well enough — he just preferred his own company. Now that he’s had a taste of your company, he’s keen on making it a lifelong occurrence. Overhearing this admission has him wondering if traditional courting methods don’t do much for you. Or, more realistically, that they go over your pretty head. He's witnessed you interpreting the gang's flirtations as platonic. Consequently, he gives considerable thought to ensuring this isn't a fate that befalls him. Corny as it sounds, his new dream is to stand beside you as your husband. He's chasing this goal without abandon.
Bruno
Bruno feels immensely guilty for eavesdropping on a conversation involving something so personal, but he couldn't help himself. An immense weight feels like it's been lifted from his shoulders upon learning you haven't gotten romantically involved with anyone before. This relief is followed up with sharp self-condemnation — as your leader, he shouldn't get involved with your personal affairs. Maintaining any professional distance is difficult though, especially when you're so likable. People are naturally drawn to you and he's no different. That's why this revelation comes as a surprise, albeit a good one. He tells himself he'd be happy for you if you loved someone else... however, deep down, he knows the regret would eat him alive. He struggles to concentrate the rest of the day. His mind keeps wandering back to thoughts of you, specifically, finding solace in one another’s warmth. The most innocent thoughts make his heart flutter, the man is smitten.
Fugo
Fugo almost renounces his atheism — perhaps there is a God after all. Then he's reminded that you're completely out of his league, submersing him back into the Nietzsche headspace. His self-esteem isn't the best, so the way he looks at it is if no one else was good enough to catch your attention, what chance did he have? It's a miracle you even put him with him. He's blunt, stubborn, and easy to agitate, yet you're one of the few people alive who don't treat him like a ticking time bomb. When his initial pessimism dies down, he fantasizes about you getting flustered by things like a first kiss. It's a cute mental image. Would you fidget? Accidentally bump heads and apologize? Get sweaty palms? Before he knows it, he's invented an entire storyline in his head. It's mushy enough that he struggles to look you in the eye the next time he sees you.
Mista
Mista pretends he knew it all along, as if the Pistols hadn't kept him awake multiple nights, speculating over your relationship status. The little fellas held full-blown debates. Since he's a chill, go-with-the-flow type of guy, he wouldn't have turned green with envy had he learned you former lovers. If they brought you happiness, who is he to hold it against them? Regardless, he can't deny his budding excitement. Should you reciprocate his feelings, you'll experience all your firsts with him. Those initial milestones are the moments that stick with people throughout their life. It's your first kiss in particular that he'd like to have for himself. He intends to sweep you off your feet — literally. It's got to be like those old Hollywood flicks he grew up watching, or what's the point?
Narancia
Narancia has to stop himself from audibly cheering. The multiple abandonments he underwent in the past has him latching onto the few people remaining in his life. This includes you, naturally. You've brought him so much joy, the risk of losing that, losing you, it's a fear that eats away at him. He worries that if you had exes, you might compare him to them and determine he's subpar. Then he'd be cast aside like trash as he had been multiple times before. These insecurities nourish his possessive tendencies. Learning that he has no exes to fend off is a great relief because he would've defended you viciously. It isn't until later that he daydreams over the more innocent implications, like being your first (and only!) boyfriend. He gets so preoccupied by the thought that he walks into a few walls.
Abbacchio
He's actually surprised to learn about this. He considers using Moody Blues so he can hear the entire conversation, but decides against it, believing it to be an intrusion of your privacy. Abbacchio's of the opinion that to maximize your happiness, you should find love outside of Passione. He wants that for you, and yet... his heart physically aches whenever the possibility crosses his mind. What's the alternative, then? Would he make for a suitable partner? He finds the mere possibility laughable. Your brightness would be engulfed by the gaping maw that is his existence. He considers this an empirical truth, not some 'woe is me' sentiment. Ultimately, anytime your love life (or lack of one) is brought up, he distracts himself, so as not to fixate on his shortcomings.
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sunderwight · 8 hours
Text
Scenario where PIDW Bingge had something like the fucked up baby dimension from Fire Emblem: Fates for handling his kids.
For those who haven't played enough Fire Emblem games: in Fates you can hook up various characters who will, once they've bonded sufficiently, get married and have children. Because there is a dangerous war on and nobody has time for childcare, these babies get sent to various pocket dimensions where time moves differently, where they are raised by servants. They then reappear in the story as adults (mostly) who are also just like, barely younger than their own parents. This is of course hilariously fucked up, for even more reasons than what a simple overview can convey, and it's also just kind of shrugged off by the narrative despite the many, many bewildering implications involved.
So I'm imagining Airplane stealing this whole concept and sitting down to write about Bingge sending all of his children away in order to protect them from his enemies or whatever other excuse, creating special nursery dimensions with Xin Mo only to not really spend any time with his offspring at all, resulting in a lot of them growing up extra fast and reentering the story as adults at wildly unpredictable intervals (i.e. whenever Airplane feels like it without having to remember the timelines involved because *waves hand* time passes differently in the different dimensions too). For the daughters, this just gets them married off into alliances (if they're even mentioned at all, because Airplane doesn't want to write incest and there's basically only one reason female characters get mentioned in this story), but for the sons, this usually has them showing up as upstart challengers to their father's throne. With a conclusion, generally, of them getting their asses kicked and then being sent back to their pocket dimensions with their tails between their legs (Binghe killing his own kids would be too reprehensible, after all). Sometimes (rarely) they become loyal generals. One or two have died to fuel revenge arcs. The protagonist halo extends only limited benefits to his kids.
Anyway, Shen Yuan of course reads all of this and absolutely hates it. What do you mean Binghe doesn't even raise his own kids?! What do you mean even their mothers don't?! Shen Yuan understands that Luo Binghe is an important guy with important things to do, but handling it this way makes it impossible to even consistently visit his children on their birthdays! They'd be having birthdays every day because they're all on freaking Narnia time! And of course his sons keep growing up and trying to overthrow him, surely Binghe himself should appreciate that under these conditions, his children are going to see the servants raising them as parents more than some distant emperor they've never met...? Not to mention, if time moves quickly in these dimensions, theoretically Binghe could just stay there with his kids himself and not have to worry too much about things changing in his realm, because only a few months would pass there! He could have it both -- spend plenty of time with his kids and not worry about neglecting his responsibilities! So why doesn't he do that?!
The answer (never actually provided by Airplane) is that Bingge doesn't really feel a strong connection to his children, and because of his reverence for his adoptive mother, he thinks that giving them peaceful lives with simple people to raise and love them is the kindest thing he can do for them. If he could have had an idyllic childhood with his mother in a place where nothing could harm him, he would have never sought power at all.
But of course, Binghe's kids aren't thinking "oh gosh yeah my humble childhood in a magic dimension was much better than starving on the streets!" because that wasn't ever going to be their fate in the first place. Instead they all develop varying complexes about being sent away by their impossibly remote father and his giant harem.
Possible fic ideas involving this setup:
-Bingyuan where Shen Yuan transmigrates into the intended tutor of one Luo Binghe's most troublesome sons. SY arrives in the baby dimension and immediately bonds with the little Luo, gets really mad about the whole situation all over again, and when Bingge shows up for a rare visit, rips him a new asshole about it. Romcom shenanigans ensue.
-Scenario where SV's Shen Qingqiu and Luo Binghe decide they're ready to adopt, and SQQ figures out a back door into PIDW Binghe's baby dimensions and just sort of, ehm, borrows some of the children he knows had really bad times in the novel (not all of the idyllic upbringings worked out, there were instances of the dimensions being attacked and the servants there being killed and etc). Bingge eventually finds out. Dramatics ensue.
-When PIDW Binghe tries to summon a Shen Yuan of his own to the PIDW world using Xin Mo, it accidentally creates some stability issues with the baby dimensions. Shen Yuan get teleported in and out of these dimensions instead, bonding with the kids there to various degrees, only to be swept away every time Bingge tries to use Xin Mo to find him again. A handful of years later, a bunch of new Heavenly Demon scions emerge as adults with the Luo family's Shizun Complex in full swing, right around the same time that Bingge finally captures Shen Yuan. Hijinks ensue.
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sihtsisdrowkcab · 10 hours
Text
DP x DC prompt - Villainess AU
Hey! So I found this promt and just had to write something with it!
https://www.tumblr.com/kuroishuuha/714717053010984960/dp-x-dc-prompt-villainess-au?source=share
Prompt
-Danny is transported into a novel/game where he is the villainess fiancé of the male lead.
Knowing that only death awaits him at the end, Danny tries to end the engagement (who knows if death will stick this time - Danny is not gonna risk finding out)
Meanwhile, Jason finds himself as the male lead of a novel/game he never read/played
The system in his head is telling him that the only way to get back home is to have a happy ending with his fiancé
So we have Danny who is desperately trying to end his engagement and a Jason who is trying to woo his fiancé (and cursing the original male lead - because the guy must have done something horrible for his cute and nice fiancé to be desperate to break up with him)-
Story
Danny was so over this. He thought this would have been easy, maybe not on his parents part god knows they don't give up without a fight, but his fiance has shown nothing but disdain for him his whole life (even if he wasn't here for 90% of that life) He thought he'd only have to tell his fiance that he didn't want to marry him, his fiance would be ecstatic and run into the sun with Ophelia and he'd get the weight off his shoulders and wouldn't have to worry about dying anymore and yet...
"No."
Danny just looked at him with horror "What do you mean no?" He practically yelled.
"No, I won't break off the engagement."
"Why not!? You hate me! You've hated me since the moment we met! I know you want to be with ophelia!"
Daminan looked like he was trying to read his face which makes no sense, if anyone should be trying to read the other's face it should be him!
Danny grabbed Damian's shoulders and shook them, he knew he wasn't acting like a proper gentleman, but his life was on the line! "Have you lost your goddamn mind? What in the world is wrong with you?" He paused, took a breath and let go of his shoulders. He was sure this had something or the other to do with politics, he just couldn't wrap his mind around it at all. He took another step back, he had to appease Damian somehow. "Look, neither of us wanted to get married and neither of us really knew what we were getting into when our parents signed the agreement and had us agree to this, my parents won't back down but from what I know of your parents they'll let you back out of this no problem. My parents will be pissed but that's neither here nor there. There is really no reasonable excuse for why we shouldn’t break off our engagement." Danny said smugly, crossing his arms over his chest. There was no way Damian could deny all of that.
-
How could Jason deny all of that?! He was acting completely out of character, which was funny because he hardly knew what his character was like at all besides from second hand accounts. When he was told he just had to get a happy ending with his fiance he had thought this would be a piece of cake, he had brushed everything else off and took this as a really weird miny vacation, how hard could it really be to marry your fiance? Everything was already set up, it couldn't fail.
Except for the fact that apparently he was a dick and hated his fiance and she was done with all that, which he would have cheered on the fiance any day, get rid of that dick 100%. But now he was here in that dick's place and having to deal with his stupid problems and his fiance wanted to divorce him! How was he ever going to get a happy ending out of this? He did eventually want to get home no matter how annoying Bruce could be at times.
His fiance huffed drawing his eyes to him, he really was very pretty, he had no idea why Damian seemingly hated him. Sure he was being annoying as hell right now but really that was all Damian's fault.
"look i don't know why you seem to be fighting for this, it seriously seems like you just forgot everything!"
Jason froze, should he go with that? It really would be rather convincing seeing as he really didn't know Damian at all.
Danial paused, his eyes widening as he fixed on Jason's hesitance, seemingly picking apart all that he was and assessing him not adequate.
"You really don't act like Damian at all..."
He froze again, was that a good thing? Was this gonna be what gave him away?
"Did you hit your head or something? Temporary amnesia?"
"Y-yes!" Was he messing this up, would Danial believe that?
"Then why are you fighting so hard to keep the engagement? You don't know me at all."
Shit. shit what did he say? How did he convince Danial to keep the engagement if his other self hated him and this self didn't know him?
"I-I heard how wonderful you were from my parents and- and fell in love!"
Danial backed up with a distured look on his face, fuck he shouldn't have said that. "Love? After just hearing about me? That’s… kind of creepy."
“I just want to get to know you!”
Danial looked at him, his shoulders slumped and he looked resigned as he said "fine we'll keep up the engagement for now.” yes! “But when you get your memories back, we're breaking it off.”
Not great, but at least he knew that wasn’t going to happen. 
 He turned around to leave, oh wait. "I haven't told anyone else I've lost my memories so could you keep that one to yourself?" He asked, turning back around.
Danial looked at him suspiciously. "Why haven't you told anyone else? Not even your family?"
Fuck again! Why couldn't he just get this right? "Of course my family knows!" He really hoped Danial never met them because they absolutely did not. "but no one at this school does, i don't want them to treat me like i'm made of glass like my parents." Not completely off base, they've been tiptoeing around him all summer, probably because he was acting so weird.
"that makes sense." Danial sighed, he looked suddenly like the whole weight of the world was upon his shoulders. 
Jason screwed up his face, he had definitely been the one to place it there. He wanted to go over to him and tell him that they could break off the engagement after all but he really couldn't do that. "I'm sorry." He settled for instead.
Danial looked surprised. "You’re apologizing?"
"Yeah, I've made this so much harder for you than it really had to be. And you don't really know me anymore and I really don't know you."
Danial looked at him with something akin to empathy. "It's hard being thrust into a world that's unfamiliar to you isn't it? No one you trust or know around you and having to be something your not."
Jason looked at him in genuine shock. "H-how?"
Danial looked panicked for a second before he gave a light laugh. "I may not have amnesia but I do have expectations from everyone around me." He rubbed his arm. "Everyone says you're way out of my league and that I'm lucky to have you." This time his laugh was bitter.
"If anything you said about the old me was true it was really the opposite."
Danial gave a snort that Jason couldn't help feeling was the prettiest thing he's ever heard. "oh believe me i down played it."
Jason looked at him aghast. "Downplayed it!? Just how bad was I??"
Daniel gave him a sympathetic pat on the shoulder and a smirk, "Now that, my friend is a talk for another time. Danial moved past him brushing his shoulder, what felt like a shock passed through him and he went stiff. When he finally came to his senses he was all by himself, What had just happened?
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sabh0 · 3 days
Note
What's your opinion on the anime? I find it pretty funny, but I can't say that I am not disappointed to see so many scenes missing.
For exemple, I wanted to see Dazai cry laugh at Chuuya's young mistress act, show that it was a joke shared by both of them, rather than one made to us at the expense of Chuuya. They took a genuinely funny moment and made me cringe SO hard for no reason T^T
God i could go on for hours about how Bones ruined this series. I'm obviously thankful we have an anime adaptation but. Well just compare bsd anime to jjk one or smth and yeah.
I will be complaining more under the cut,,
First the overall writing choices:
-Deleting or changing skk scenes to the point im not even shocked when ppl think these two actually somehow hate each other.
-The way they portrayed Sigma. They deleted half of his personality and backstory. And just speedrunned the Sky Casino arc like if seeing that place was giving them nightmares. No wonder he gets mischaracterized now.
-Tachihara's internal conflict about belonging to either Port Mafia or The Hunting Dogs? Bones never heard about it. It's not like IT'S A VERY IMPORTANT PLOT POINT.
-Akutagawa's whole character in the anime is just 'edgy and angry and bad grr'. In the manga he had some 'kind' or even seelf-reflection moments that were ommited in the anime. Like where he realizes defeating Atsushi didn't satisfy him (ship fight, season 1). Or when he gives files about the orphanage Director to Atsushi and says he won't fight him today because he lost someone impirtant to him. Sskk vs Fukuchi fight?? No scene where Sskk r helping each other walk. Instead we get Akutagwa just pushing Atsushi away. Won't even start on that last smile that looked more like another angry expression.
-THE WAY THEY CHANGED "DAZAI'S ENTRANCE EXAM" INTO SOME CURRENT TIMELINE EPISODES. IT MAKES ME SO ANGRY LIKE. THIS NOVEL WAS SO GOOD. Showing both Dazai and Kunikida's characters and partnership so well. But no. Let's just??? Put Atsushi there. Let's delete the fact this thing happened 2 years ago. And let's delete everything that was actually important about it, too.
-also some changes in the Dark Era arc. Like. Lord. Dazai is so much more emotional in the novel. His expressions r described so well. But the anime either shows him from the back at those moments (him finding out Oda was almost killed by a sniper in Ango's room) or just deletes/changes the thing (Oda dying. This scene is so emotional in the novel. From the description u can tell Dazai was crying/on the verge of it as Odasaku died. But in the anime he looks calm and then we get a far aeay frame and he just. Gets up and that's it yeah.) They also deleted the scene of him visiting Oda's grave.
-The way they rushed seasons 4 and 5. Just to give us an episode that goes further than the manga and has the shittiest writing ever when it comes to skk's plan revelation (im so angry about this u guys have no idea. I sincerely believe that if this episode never came out, the manga would go differently bc there's no way that Asagiri who wrote things like Stormbringer suddenly thought that some dollar store vampire make up will fool a guy who's centuries old and literally lived next to vampires. But well!! Seems like these two speeches Dazai gave weren't important at all and now we can just forget about them yippiee)
I could definitely mention WAYY more examples of that but this is already long af. Like guys. I know u cant fit everything in an animated show. It takes time to make it and all but. Bro. The character's in the anime r so shallow compared to their original versions.
.
Now onto the artstyle of the anime.
Lord. U know? It was actually pretty in the first 2 seasons. The official arts at the time were also really nice to look at.
No idea what happened later. Why did Bones suddenly decide that those ugly turtle smiles r gonna become the main thing in the character design. Why so many fisheyes. Atp sometimes i look at the official art and i go oh lord even i could fix it. It really feels like they draw some characters ugly on purpose now (Chuuya being the main victim for unknown reasons).
Tho i must say they have their moments even now. Some last episodes of season 5 weren't really bad, especially the Meursault part (love them for animating Dazai and Sigma dancing so well. And for that 101 animation. And maybe for the heartattack they gave me with 109 and Chuuya shooting Dazai so many times.)
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On some other things, i really like the music! Bsd openings and endings never miss,,,
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hqbaby · 2 days
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five — right?
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tag, ur it! — sakusa ? iwaizumi ? osamu ? 
*ੈ✩‧ love is a losing game your roommate, your ex, or the guy you totally haven’t been seeing—the choice should be simple, right? right?
previous — masterlist — next
word count. 1.1k content. profanity, mentions of previous cheating
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“Will you stop that?” Iwaizumi says, glancing up from the paper that he’s been working on for the better half of the afternoon.
You bat your eyelashes at him innocently. “Stop what?”
He glares. “That,” he tells you, pointing at the growing pile of paper balls you’ve been making, crumpling up pages of old notes and unceremoniously dropping them at your feet. “It’s distracting.”
“Tough luck, bud. It’s for school.”
“That excuse is getting old,” he says. He takes one last look at his laptop, sighs, and closes it. He looks at you expectantly. “So what’s up?”
“Why do you think something’s up?”
“Because you’re being outwardly annoying,” Iwaizumi tells you, “Which isn’t particularly strange, but you’ve got this nervous energy around you right now.”
You try to silence the voice in your head that wants to ask him, You notice those kinds of things? Because it’s stupid. Of course your roommate notices when you’re acting weird. He’s subjected to your strangeness every day.
“Have you ever had a really stupid idea?” you ask him instead.
He raises his brow and puts his laptop away, making his way to the couch and plopping into the seat beside you. “What kind of idea?”
“I won’t go into the specifics,” you say. “But it’s just really stupid. Imagine you had a really good thing going for you now and it’s great, you know? But there’s this other thing that is really bad for you that you can’t seem to let go. So you have this idea, drop the really good thing for the bad thing. Which is stupid. But you want to do it.”
“Oh, that’s totally not specific at all.”
You stick your tongue out at him. “I need help here,” you say. “What would you do?”
He considers it for a moment. “How badly do you want the bad thing?”
“Really badly.”
There isn’t a hint of hesitation in your voice and it makes you want to hurl. After everything that’s happened, you’re exactly where you were before. It feels pathetic. Disappointing if nothing else.
And yet you don’t expect the next thing to come out of your roommate’s mouth. Not from Iwaizumi, the wise and kind and gentle and slightly aggressive but overall smart, good guy.
“Then fuck it,” he says, as if he were giving you his blessing. “Go for it. At some point, you can’t keep denying your feelings. They’ll blow up in your face eventually.”
You gape at him. “I can’t believe you just told me to fuck it.”
He grins, all teeth and sunshine. “Fuck it.”
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Of course when Iwaizumi told you to fuck it, he had no idea that it meant you were going to show up here. At a coffee shop. Waiting for Osamu, the guy all your friends have told you to clearly stay away from.
When you see him, you notice that he looks a little different. Not much has changed, you’ve only been a part for a few months, but time has its way of making the past seem more distant than it is.
“Hey,” he says as he approaches you. His breath catches when you stand and he sees you, clearly surprised by how much you’ve changed too. “You look… great.”
You offer him a curt nod. Despite just how much you want this, to see him again, there’s something that’s physically holding you back. Reminding you of what Osamu did, what he made you go through.
“Thanks,” you say. “You wanna sit?”
If he’s put off by your slight coldness, he doesn’t show it. He sits in the chair across from yours as you fall back into your seat.
“How have you been?” he asks.
It’s so polite. So unbothered. You hate it.
“Fine,” you tell him. “How’s Maya?”
You see him recoil at the name, his lips twisting into a frown as he curls into himself ever so slightly. It’s stupid just how much you still know him, how you know how to push his buttons in just the right way.
“I don’t know,” he says. “I haven’t seen her since…”
And there it is. The unspeakable. The thing you’ve poked and prodded at. Alluded to in conversations with your friends. Hidden deep in the back of your throat.
“Since you fucked her.”
He shakes his head and leans forward, spreading his hands on the table as he looks you straight in the eye. “I told you,” he says, “It was a mistake.”
“You still did it.”
The truth is sour on your tongue. You’ve had this conversation with him before, hurled your righteous accusations at him as he tried to explain that it wasn’t anything, that it didn’t matter. What a fucking idiot.
“What did you wanna talk about?” you ask. The scales have tilted in your favor. You have the upperhand here. “What do you want from me?”
Osamu’s eyes flicker from remorseful to regretful to penitent. “Give me a chance,” he says. “I fucked up, I know I did. But I can’t keep doing this. I look for you everywhere I go. I stay up at night wondering when you’ll call. But you’re so distant, you avoid me every chance you get.”
You scoff. “Do you blame me for that?”
“No.” He looks down. “But I want you to give me a chance. I know it’s a long shot, but I don’t have much of a choice.”
The stronger, more sensible part of you wants to walk away. Maybe slap him in the face, throw your water at him to make yourself feel better. Anything, as long as you leave. As long as you don’t look back.
But there’s still the part of you that stays. The one that goes to places you know he’ll be just to see if he’s doing fine. That wants to ask his brother how his finals went. That wants to forgive him right then and there, rush back into his arms, make everything alright.
So you compromise with yourself. You say, “Then win me back.”
You can tell that isn’t the answer that he was expecting. As much as you know him, he knows you too. He never expected you to bend, and while you haven’t fully done so just yet, you’ve given him an inch.
He’ll be damned if he doesn’t take a mile.
“Deal,” he says, smiling now. “You won’t regret this.”
You can’t help but chuckle at the bright look on his face. The way he lights up at the prospect of having you again. In the end, you always knew just how much you meant to him. In the end, you always knew just how much he meant to you.
“Oh, I have a feeling I will,” you tell him. “But, well, you know… Fuck it, right?”
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notes. i too would be weak for osamu no matter what he's done to me 🙂‍↕️
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deadly-halowos · 2 days
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guys okay so i saw a post that offhandedly mentioned tim having an ed elric arm and now i can’t stop thinking about an fma batfam au so here’s my little ideas bc yes.
so i’ve decided that tim is ed (obviously bc that’s what started this whole thing) and duke is al (bc he’s younger, i love him, and i need more of duke and tim being brothers) others that are relevant are: alfred is granny (obviously) bernard is winry (im a sucker for emt bernard)
right now what i’ve got is that tim and duke are trying to bring back bruce after he died (bruce being the one they’re bringing back might change depending on how closely i choose to follow fmas actual story) and they use a tainted lazarus pit to do it (does tim know that it’s tainted? your guess is as good as mine. it’s tainted due to gothams inherent radioactivity and general weirdness. i’m also aware this is not how the pits work but shhh, plot reasons)
they go to set bruce's body into the pit but it goes wrong and duke ends up slipping in, tims leg slips in, and he pulls himself out and realizes that duke is gone and begs for him back, not caring about the fact that his own leg is missing.
they're in one of ra's pit rooms so there's a plot relevant suit of armor sitting near by, tim hears a voice telling him to make the seal on the armor and then tim sticks his arm into the pit to grab duke(‘s soul?) and that's how he ends up losing his arm
duke regains consciousness in the suit and sees tim aggressively bleeding out and wraps him up in his cape to staunch it until he can get back and call for alfred
the pit is in gotham still and that's why it's so tainted because of all of the radioactive shit that goes on there
duke runs to the manor as fast as he can (which is so much faster now that he can't get tired) and collapses into the kitchen sobbing for alfred to help
alfred gasps and rushes tim down to the cave to begin the surgery to save tim and has duke call bernard to get him to come to the manor and help with the surgery. they barely get though it, but tim ends up surviving. mr spleenless obviously then makes things difficult and almost dies during recovery from an infection and during his feverish haze he just keeps crying out for duke and saying that he's sorry and then going between cursing gotham for being a bastard and then praising it
tim obviously barely lets himself heal before he’s starting to design prosthetics so that he can figure out how to get dukes body back (he doesn’t care if it takes his own, he just needs duke to be safe and whole again)
he figures out the equivalent of automail and makes bernard and alfred install it on him despite them begging him to stop and realize that he’s putting himself in incredible danger, he insists and they finally give in (he almost dies again from the installation and the subsequent infection)
alfred insists that it’s going to be a long and hard recovery, but tim is determined to do it in as little time as possible, he reaches out to some of the jl members and asks for help with healing, getting the recovery time down to just under a year (even with the jls help, this seems incredibly quick. they all decide to just take it at face value because it’s a miracle)
when asked what he meant when he was talking about gotham being a bastard and then switching to praising it, tim just went a little pale and then glanced at duke and then his own arm and brushed it off with a shaky voice
im not entirely sure how to work with the alchemy and/or equivalent, duke is already a meta so i’d make sense that he can use his current abilities as well as potentially understanding how to use alchemy if i go that way.
as far as it goes with tim, i think that he has enhancements, he is a little bit stronger, he heals just a little bit faster, he’s got more stamina, etc. but he’s also got something that no one else does.
he hears gotham. not all the time, but if gotham feels like teasing him or testing him, he hears her. while in gotham it’s almost as if he knows everything that’s happening. while on one of his first patrols back after the surgery with jason and duke, he stops dead in his tracks, completely tense and when the other two notice that he’s stopped they look back and him and he just stands there for a minute before shaking his head and backing up, telling them not to go that way, that it’s not safe and they need to leave. when jason starts to tease him to ask if he’s a scaredy cat, tim just shutters and grabs jason’s arm to haul him away.
they find out the next day that a massive shootout went down, along with the building they were about to walk into collapsing completely, everyone in the building (criminals, thankfully. no civilian injuries) crushed and dead. they ask tim how he knew and he just said that he had a feeling. they learn quickly to listen to what tim says when it comes to gotham.
if i do give them alchemy i think that it’ll be a surprise to everyone.
they’re in a fight, all of them for once, an arkham breakout. tim and damian are fighting near eachother while duke is across the room fighting with dick against some of the goons. tim glances over and watches as a goon takes out a gun and aims it at duke, tim is too far away, even dick, less than 10 feet away is too far, none of them will make it in time. tim will never know why he did it, but he shouted at duke and then clapped his hands together, shoving them on the ground, surrounding duke in a concrete orb, the bullet hitting the orb instead of the neck of dukes armor (his seal, if the seal gets broken, his brother is gone) like it was aiming for. as soon as tim clapped, it was like something clicked. he finally understood, it felt balanced, it felt equivalent. tim stood up and hit the goon who dare try and take a shot at his brother with his bo staff and knocked him out. once they had taken care of the rest of the goons, he clapped again and the orb surrounding duke falling back into place as if it had never been disturbed.
after being confused for a moment, seeing the others about to question tim on what the hell was that, duke chuckles and asks why tim bothered to surround him when he wouldn’t feel it anyway, he watched tim’s face fall before tim walked over to him and rested his forehead against the cool metal of dukes armor and whispers that he’s always going to protect him, and that it doesn’t matter if he can’t feel it it would still hurt, and that he’s so sorry for putting duke in this situation and he’s going to find a way to fix it he swears.
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