#but I can’t seem to let go of either of them | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

azullumi · 1 day

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"honey in your mouth when you say my name" ; aventurine

premise— happiest birthday to the man who had stardust on his wake and the sun for a soul; he was warm and he was everything you have ever dreamed for. this is a gift to the man who knew cruelty all his life but remained kind despite the cracks and blood on his skin.

content tags — 2.1 QUEST SPOILER, established relationship, soft aventurine (WE SAY IN UNISON), angst and fluff, a few metaphors, mentions of death and blood, birthday sadness (idk what u call that), NOT PROOFREAD I DID THIS ON A RUSH, 1.4K ; one-shot (bullet-form)

note — i have exams tomorrow and a lot of things due but the moment i heard it was his birthday, i wrote this for him AAAAAAAAAAAAA

AVENTURINE can still remember the smell of rain the day blood filled the line of his vision. It’s horrifying, haunting, sharp in all of its corners as it finds him in a sunny morning when he tries to look for the pieces of himself scattered on his floor, hidden beneath the carpet (and when he lifts the pattern, he’ll find torn and broken memories of when he was still young and loved). For this reason, he is not really into the prospect of celebrating his birthday, not when the day is intertwined with grief.

He avoids telling people of his day, avoids thinking of it by burying himself in hundreds of paperworks and cases to handle. He can’t think of that day without thinking of death, without thinking of his sister who laid lifeless in the golden sands (she probably thought of him in his last moments), without thinking of his mother who prayed even when her knees and hands are bleeding (the rain came to her as a blessing, but for him it has become a curse), and without thinking of his father who never got to hold his son (he never knew what he sounds like).

He’ll remember everything, that was his curse.

He never celebrated that day, not anymore, not even once. Perhaps he tried, perhaps he went into the bakery with the thought of getting himself a cake and lighting a candle, perhaps he tries to seek beauty on the day that he was born, especially when it coincides with the day of rebirth of his goddess. Perhaps he did and perhaps the cake was left rotting in his fridge because he can’t seem to enjoy the taste of it when its reminiscence of the bitter rain and fresh blood.

(He can’t bear the thought that silence was his only companion either) He’d like to think that the meows of the critters as they approach him translate to words that greets him a happy birthday, but how could they? It’s a silly thought, it’s not like they can understand him nor any of these stupid traditions, and it’s not like he can understand them either. So he still remains alone.

But there, you came—unexpected, unwavering. When you learnt of his birthday, when he told you of his past and every line that exists in his being, a shell of determination washes on the shore of your thoughts. It didn’t have to be grand, it didn’t have to be extravagant; you only wish to make the day memorable for him, even just for once. You wanted him to let go of the thorns and feel how nice it is to have nothing that makes your hand bleed.

Although, you must admit, you were anxious, scared, nervous, everything while you were preparing for it. I mean, sure, it’s just going to be something simple with you and him only, and you made sure that in some aspects of it, he’ll enjoy it. You know that the burden he carries is heavy on his shoulders, and letting go is never easy nor simple, but for once, you wanted to do something for him to ease the tension that lies in his thoughts and bones.

Imagine the surprise and confusion on his face when he comes home to his apartment smelling like freshly-baked bread, tangled with the scent of lit candles and flowers, and the aroma of food. Surely, this wasn’t a burglary, right? What type of burglar would leave rose petals on the path of his doorway leading to wherever? What type of burglar would spend the time to bake a cake and even cook dinner? And what type of burglar would dress up so pretty and smile at him while their hands are trembling behind their back?

There’s the sound of his voice calling out to your name and soon, he heard something cluttering followed by rushed footfalls, and there you were, peeking behind the wall with a nervous grin plastered on your lips. You greet, “You’re home early, I thought you were going to be late?”

“I was going to be but I decided to bring some of the leftover papers home instead. I didn’t know you were going to come by, you should have told me.” He answers, taking off his dress shoes and placing it on the rack, “I could have come home much earlier if I knew.”

You laugh, emerging from behind the wall, “It’s fine, it’s fine.” You try to find the words to say in your trembling palms and fidgeting fingers. If he knew of what you were planning, surely, he would stop you and you didn’t want that. Albeit you don’t recall him saying he didn’t want nor like celebrating his day, but he did mention that he simply avoids it—does avoidance equate to dislikeness or hatred? It was plaguing your mind.

He hums, ushering you to come close to him so he can wrap his arms around your figure, engulfing you in a hug as he rests his forehead on top of your shoulder. “Why are you so dressed up? What’s the occasion? I don’t recall setting a date for the both of us tonight.”

“Do you not remember?”

Panic quickly shot over him like a bullet as he stood up straight from his position, “We have plans tonight?! There’s nothing on my schedule for today so I thought.” He’s quick to utter apologies, anxiety seen on his face as he spoke. It breaks your heart a little hearing what he’s saying—he doesn’t even remember.

“‘Rine, it’s your birthday.”

Silence.

Disbelief outlines the line on his lips, “What?”

You bite the inside of your cheek, feeling like there is something that wraps and binds around your chest which suffocates you; It was your turn to panic, feeling it overwhelm the nerves of your body, “You mentioned it once, perhaps a few months ago. I wanted to make it a little special for you so I prepared something for us, for you. It’s okay if you don’t want to, I mean I can just—”

You were interrupted by him, your sentence cutting short, “Oh, love, you didn’t have to.” He cups your cheek, warmth seeping into your skin. You didn’t listen to his voice for so long to not be familiar with how it cracks and breaks when the words fall from his lips.

“But I did and I wanted to.” You answer, softly, reassuring him as you lean into his touch.

“Having you beside me already makes it all special.”

You laugh, eyes forming into a small crescent that reminds him of the moon, “And I want it to be more than just that kind of special.” And he sighs upon hearing your answer, it’s not one of frustration but it still has worry forming on your stomach as you swallow, “Are you mad at me?”

“No, how could I ever be mad at you? I’m just surprised.” He brushes the pad of his thumb across your cheek, gazing into your eyes with such affection and adoration as if the stars were born from his eyes. He presses a kiss on your forehead, whispering to your skin as if a small confession, “Thank you.”

How could he ever be worthy of you?

You hum, "I love you, Kakavasha."

Aventurine is grateful—it fills every gap and crack on his skin, soothing the scars of his flaws, and everything that sets him apart from his humanity. He never knew that cakes could taste this sweet, so kind and gentle as it melts on his tongue.

Slowly but surely, he soon let the warmth settle in his skin. The gray walls that surround that day are soon painted and drawn with different colors, with doodles that were made by your hands mixed with a few of his works. Perhaps the ocean of his grief will still haunt him but he won’t drown in it, nor will he find comfort in the cold embrace of nothing and everything that rejects him.

(Kakavasha, your sister would be so happy for you.)

And when the day comes once more, he’ll see and dream of the rain but not how bitter and heavy it was, but how it soon became warm and sweet, washing away the blood on his feet.

special mention to @toorurs, thanks for always being there for me even when i say the most nonsense of things or when my sheep genes are acting up 😔 i hope everything is going well for you and will go well for youuu!! sorry for being inactive AND NOT REPLYING TO YOUR TIKTOKS AAAA I SWEAR ILL BE MORE ACTIVE SOON I WILL REPLY EVEN WHEN YOU STILL HAVEN'T MESSAGED 👆 anyways this is a very short dedication note because gosh i still have to study hejsad ilyyyyy a lotttt please always remember that !!

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blasphemecel · 2 days

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Michael Kaiser — Mean

PAIRING: Michael Kaiser/Reader WORD COUNT: 6.4k TYPE: Fake dating, This is not fluff or angst but a secret third thing (with a cheerful ending) WARNING(S): Depersonalization/identity issues

The first time you meet Michael Kaiser, you get a bad impression.

Yeah, sure, he doesn’t have the most stellar reputation, anyway. You’ve met all sorts of unpleasant people in your life and he manages to disappoint even when the bar is so low, the only way to go lower is through digging.

You don’t exchange a word with him, but rather you have the misfortune of having to listen to him talk throughout the entire meeting. He starts countless arguments, some valid to an extent. You can tell he’s just doing this because he’s addicted to the sound of his voice and speaking to people like they’re unimportant specks of dust all while commanding their attention. There’s no point to his fussing either because he ends up signing the same contract you do.

Waste of your goddamn time — he might as well have not signed it and saved you the trouble, since the ordeal ends up lasting three hours because of him.

Maybe you should’ve not signed it yourself, but your PR manager was salivating at the idea of fake dating as a publicity stunt, especially with Kaiser who’ll be posing with you for a photoshoot in a few months, so you said ‘whatever’ and here you are. In this predicament with an insufferable man you imagine you won’t get along with, which already predisposes you to never giving him a chance.

___

The first time you speak to Michael Kaiser, you unsettle him.

It’s unlike him to feel disturbed, let alone at the slightest thing. He’s met all sorts of sickos, so he considers himself unflinching in the face of anyone who has anything off about them.

But he’s fifteen minutes late to the ‘date’ you’re supposed to use as a tool to subtly launch your fake relationship and he’s expecting a scolding. Kaiser spots you and heads in your direction, taking the seat in front with a shitty smirk and an ingenuine, half-assed apology on his lips.

What he gets in response is a blank look — almost… unimpressed, which naturally someone like Kaiser takes as a challenge and already sets the tone for the rest of the conversation — and it’s as if you’re staring into his soul. Then in an instant your expression flips to convincing joy, your warm smile contrasting his snide one, and you say, “Let’s act like we’re really stoked.”

A chill runs down his spine. On a logical level Kaiser knows you’re faking it, but it looks real, and that’s what he finds freaky. Also, the speed.

“Let’s not,” he says. “You’re weird,” he adds after you don’t respond.

You don’t react to this information either and settle for maintaining your smile.

The barista decides to spare him from having to look at you while you don’t say anything. He’s pretty sure you’re doing this deliberately, to torture him. When you attempt to order something, he talks over you and asks, “Can you give us one of those shitty milkshakes with two straws in them?”

She stares at him in bewilderment. “We don’t sell those,” she says eventually.

“Can you make one?”

“No…”

“You’re scum,” you tell him, dropping the happy facade. Again, the quickness strikes Kaiser as disturbing. Then you give her a valid order, and he asks for water since they offer that everywhere and he can’t be bothered to read the menu. After the barista leaves, you say, “I could have lactose intolerance.”

“You could. I could be trying to kill you.”

“I don’t know if a milkshake would be enough to kill me.”

“Maybe I was trying to give you a stomach ache,” he concurs.

You don’t dignify that with a reply either.

Kaiser tries to speak with you again, “I really fucking hate milk.”

“Then why’d you do that?”

“To embarrass you, of course,” he says, like he’s revealed to you the natural order of things.

“Hm.” You consider this new information. “I’ll definitely think of a way to get back at you.”

The lukewarm threat seems to amuse him more than anything.

Then you proceed to have a hostile few hours together in public as instructed. You end up throwing napkins at his face.

Kaiser isn’t good at pretending to be in love. The only such image he seems capable of projecting is one of a middle schooler who’s failing to find a balance between playful and mean. Though it also doesn’t matter to you because you mostly teeter on the edge of mean, slightly left of apathetic. Nothing really matters to you.

___

For your second court-ordered date with Michael Kaiser, your manager tells you to get caught holding hands with him at a park after the cafe meeting doesn’t spark much controversy. The notion itself has you scrunching your face, but you don’t complain about it or voice your opinion.

Again, he’s late picking you up by a not negligent amount of time, leaving you to stand in front of your building, motionless and impatient.

Instead of announcing his presence in a more acceptable manner, Kaiser blares the car horn until you realize it’s him. After you crawl inside the passenger seat, you turn to look at him and see that he looks very pleased with himself. It’s obnoxious.

“I hope we die in a car crash,” you greet.

“We won’t.” You don’t know why, but his brain interprets this as an opportunity to brag. “I’m an excellent driver.”

He’s not. Somehow you make it to the park without getting into a catastrophe — which, as established, you wouldn’t have minded.

You exit at the same time and Kaiser frowns at you by the time he circles his way around to you. You don’t care enough about what’s bothering him to raise a questioning eyebrow let alone ask, but he tells you, “I was going to open the door for you and then offer to help you up. You ruined everything!”

You roll your eyes. “How gallant.”

“Get back in,” Kaiser says, pointing (as if the gesture will be enough to convince you to play along). “Let’s redo it.”

“What’s wrong with you?”

“Nothing. I have a vision for these kinds of things, that’s all.”

“Your vision is trashy and uninspired,” you reject promptly.

Kaiser seems to be the first person in the world who finds your attitude funny rather than objectionable because he grins at your response. But he’s more so looking at you like you’re a bug he finds fascinating in comparison to the rest, without any real respect or acknowledgement.

“I admit maybe it was a bit cliche,” he says. “Would’ve made me look good, though, if someone caught it on camera.”

You smile that ghoulish smile again and grab his hand like you were told. His fingers are cold and yours even more so, making the grasp clammy and uncomfortable while you begin your stroll. You don’t even know what you’re supposed to talk about with him. Soon enough, you scowl, both the silence and the sensation of getting touched proving too much for you to hide your displeasure, even though Kaiser seems content with letting the silence fester.

“Oh? Why’d you stop? I’ve started enjoying your creepy masquerading.”

“I’m disgusted,” you say.

“Disgusted,” he repeats. “By what? Me?”

“It’s making me sick. Who knows where your hand’s been or what you’ve done.”

Albeit visibly offended for the first time if the lack of an annoying smirk is anything to draw judgments from, Kaiser drops it first. Your arm hangs by your side again, limp.

“Let go, then. Or do I need to do everything myself?” That’s quite a dramatic sentiment coming from a man who has done nothing all day besides a short drive and taking a few steps.

“But my manager said-”

“Who cares? I think my manager’s lucky I agreed to this bullshit in the first place,” Kaiser says. “By the way, my hands haven’t been in any sewers or anything to warrant this reaction, thank you very much.” He must be the type of person who only ever says thank you as if being grateful is some big joke.

“I’m not being literal. I know who you are and what people say about you. My disgust is conceptual.”

“Flattering.” Kaiser’s pleased again with the mention of this tidbit, like the mental image he’s getting of you searching him up gives him immeasurable amounts of satisfaction. One thing you’ve come to notice about him since your last outing is that he’s shameless. “You’re not special, though. Lots of people know who I am.”

“See, this is exactly what I’m talking about. You’re scum.”

“Do you usually talk to people you barely know in this way or is it preferential treatment? I’d love preferential treatment, but the other option is amusing too.”

“Usually,” you say in a monotone. “That’s why I don’t speak much. More so supposed to be looked at rather than heard, and so on.” You finish off your explanation with a flippant gesture. That’s what it’s like for you — ‘shut your trap, it ruins your appeal.’

“Well, I-” there’s an emphasis on the word ‘I’ because Kaiser always thinks his opinion matters, “-think your worldview is pathetic and embarrassing. What’s the point of being looked at if no one will listen to you? How can you be fine with that?”

Fair point. You concede in your head, but don’t commit to agreeing with him out loud. “You’re not special either. Most people gross me out.”

“You hurt me this time.” He’s sneering, though.

After a while of walking, you find yourself sitting on a bench next to him. A few pigeons strut around near your feet, bobbing their heads back and forth, almost catching a groove. “If I had any bread, I’d feed them.”

“I’m not surprised you’d feel interested in such a commoner’s activity,” Kaiser says, as if he is somehow superior to you for not wanting to participate in this.

“Vile,” you say, voice still neutral. You’re not looking at him either, attention glued to the birds.

He doesn’t know which part of it you find dismaying — was it the class shaming or what? “So you like pigeons, but you hate humanity. You’re one of those.”

“I don’t hate humanity,” you say. “But nature is repulsive by default. It’s not amoral. When we’re cruel and ugly, that’s a conscious and opportunistic decision. Every day CEOs throw their employees and workers under the bus for more profits. Someone’s getting murdered as we speak. We’re faking a relationship to attract brand deals. I’m getting sick just thinking about it.”

“Get a hobby instead of thinking about stupid shit like that. Caring about how ugly and bleak everything is won’t get you anywhere,” Kaiser… advises.

“Look at the pigeons.” You’re watching the one with the missing claws, wobbling and struggling to get around. “Humans domesticated them and then abandoned them. I love flora and fauna. They’re interesting and exist much more differently than we do.”

“Does that mean you like my tattoo then?”

“Not everything needs to be about you. It’s not like people will forget you exist when you don’t force yourself to be at the center of conversation.”

This stings him the tiniest bit. Either you’re probing into an insecurity or he’s reading too deep into what you’re gathering from your conversations with him. “If I wanted to have a pseudointellectual conversation, I wouldn’t ask a vapid model to psychoanalyze me.”

“Your opinions are unoriginal and stereotyped just like your ideas about romance,” you say, finally turning around to face him again with those haunted eyes. He’s unamused now, clenching his jaw and all. “A stupid athlete wouldn’t be my first choice for a ‘pseudointellectual conversation’ either.”

“You look down on others and judge them, so what makes you so different from all those ‘scum’ you hate? How are you exempt from your own standards?”

Do you realize you’re displaying similar behaviors to those you’re scolding him over?

“Well, there’s a simple explanation for that,” you say. Kaiser is expecting an argument or something, but you kind of floor him with your follow-up. “It’s called hypocrisy. I’m probably just as disgusting as the average person.”

“Your life must be miserable if you look at everything through this lens. What was the phrase, rose colored glasses? Yours must have shit smeared over them.”

You shrug then make a 50/50 motion with your hand. “My life’s neither good nor bad. I’m indifferent on the subject.”

“Uh huh.” Kaiser considers this, then his lips twitch up, and then his smile broadens — it’s snide and smug again, and you come to the realization that he probably doesn’t know how to smile in any other way — before he inches a little closer to you. Not enough to brush against you, but enough to count as an attempted provocation. “I think people like you shouldn’t be considered alive. Legally speaking. And if we’re being figurative, you’re obviously already dead.”

You frown at him, since he’s kind of right. The fact that Michael Kaiser has the capability to discern truths you don’t want to hear rubs you the wrong way.

“Speaking of birds,” you start, deciding to change the topic, “you remind me of a peacock.”

“Wrong.” He’s pouty now. You find the expression cute, but when you catch the thought you throw up in your mouth a bit, so you ignore it. “I’m clearly a swan.”

“The fact that you have a preference when it comes to what animal you’re considered is sad.”

“And you’re entertaining. Let’s hang out again soon even if those sorry fucks don’t suggest it.”

You find it bewildering how he calls his PR manager’s input a ‘suggestion’ and seems to think he can do whatever he wants. Which, maybe he does, seeing the way he conducts himself. You’re also tempted to tell him to make up his mind on whether he enjoys your company or not, but there are more important matters right now. “We’re not supposed to do that, I don’t think.”

“C’mon, don’t be like that.”

“Why this desire all of a sudden?”

“It’s what I want.” What impeccable reasoning. “I think I can make you enjoy yourself,” he says. “Don’t get me wrong. Not for your merit or anything stupid.” Kaiser offers what you’d describe as a flamboyant hand wave in the air, demeanor laced with complacency. “I think it’d make me feel really charitable and generous if I can manage to add something to your depressing life. Give me a chance to try.”

“Word of advice,” you scoot away from him to the point the edge of the bench is digging into your ass and it honestly hurts, “you’re not gonna get anywhere with that attitude. How you phrased it disgusted me again.”

Kaiser finds your favored terms interesting. Everything is sickening and disgusting and vile and scummy from your perspective. Deep down for reasons he doesn’t want to ponder, he can relate.

“Great. You’ll come around soon,” he promises, with the confidence of someone who thinks this is a game he has a high chance of winning.

___

Kaiser makes it a point to inflict his presence onto you as much as he can afford to with your schedules, even though there’s no need for it. Not that you refuse him either. He’s kind of interesting to keep around, in his own Kaiser-ish way.

Earlier today he invited himself over to your house. He’d decided you need to come up with a story about your ‘relationship,’ but didn’t wanna discuss it through text messages. Apparently he has an interview coming up and wants to be prepared in case they ask him about you.

“How did we meet?” you ask, sitting on the other side of the couch and leaning against the armrest, away from him.

The answer is immediate: “I saved you from a burning church.”

You question what other fantasies this man could probably have because that’s the most absurd thing you’ve ever heard. Your voice somehow remains flat despite the bewilderment when you ask, “Why?”

“Because it’s flashy and dramatic.”

“But if anyone searches it up, they’ll see there haven’t been any… burned churches?”

“You’re such a killjoy.” Kaiser sighs. “It makes it sound mystical.”

“No it doesn’t,” you say, rather flippant about the entire thing. “It makes you sound like a pathological liar.”

“I like your sense of humor.”

“Thanks, but I’m not kidding about this.”

“Then what do you think it should be?” Kaiser asks. Obviously the purpose of this inquiry is to criticize your choice of scenario — even you can anticipate such a predictable move.

You roll your eyes and then look away from him in contemplation. You hadn’t really thought about it, since you don’t do interviews, and therefore you don’t need to concern yourself with hypotheticals on the matter. “Some kind of party, maybe. Post-match celebration?”

“Makes sense,” says Kaiser. “Doesn’t compel me, though. Boring.”

With a hum, you try to imagine what would both appeal to Kaiser and sound realistic. Though he doesn’t seem like the kind of person who’s swayed by practicality. “I went with someone else, but you swept me off my feet so hard, you stole me away from them.”

“I guess it sounds plausible enough while still having an element of fantasy.”

“Is the idea of me liking you the ‘element of fantasy’?”

“Yeah… That’s why I want it.”

You didn’t expect such a response. It has you looking at him weird. You do so often anyway, but now you do it for longer as if trying to glean something. In response Kaiser tells you to take a picture since it’ll last longer. The reply seems extraneous and distracting, and that only makes you feel more suspicious of him, which is weird since you’re not sure what you’re even inferring.

___

Officially it’s your fifth date with Kaiser, unofficially it’s the tenth. This time you’re holding up a frog in your open hands.

He doesn’t know what the point of all the nature-themed outings is — maybe to make him seem down to Earth in the public eye since he’s become notorious for how insufferable he is? Either way he doesn’t care, and he’s not the type to wander at landscapes, but your affinity for ugly animals is kind of cute.

The frog isn’t some special one either. No crazy colors or anything, just a regular green tree frog (according to your expertise). You let it jump onto your palms, since apparently touching their skin is bad for them or something. Kaiser scrutinizes it in distaste, staring down into its big eyes while it croaks. “So you can handle a disgusting amphibian, but you can’t hold hands with me.”

“I see you’re still thinking about that.”

“Well, it was insulting. And besides, it’s never happened to me before.”

“You’re not so bad. I don’t think I’d vomit if we brushed against each other anymore.”

Kaiser seems curious but nonetheless pleased with this development. “Why the change of heart?”

“Because you listen to what I say,” you tell him.

He somehow resists the urge to piss himself laughing at the sound of that. “Your standards are so low. It’s so sad that it’s funny,” he says. Maybe he would’ve dedicated some more time to teasing you over it, but he comes to a realization which immediately lifts his mood. This must mean he’s in your good graces somewhat, and not many people seem to fit there, so that makes Kaiser special to a degree. Right?

“Yeah, yeah. Laugh it up.”

“Who would’ve thought someone who looks the way you do would come out like this?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means I think you were one of those kids who, like, shoved sticks and leaves in mud and called it a potion.”

“And what’s that supposed to mean now?”

Kaiser lets out an annoyed sound, tired of elaborating. “It means I think you’re strange.”

“Hmm, I bet you do,” you say. “There’s a quote I like: ‘It is no measure of health to be well-adjusted to a profoundly sick society.’”

“Yeah, and I bet that’s the kind of message you love. What’s it from?”

“Interesting story,” you say. “This is Jiddu Krishnamurti’s most famous quote, but it doesn’t appear in any of his books. Allegedly he said it to some other guy.”

Kaiser blinks and nods, maybe trying to keep a pretense of having the slightest concept of what you’re on about. “Whatever, got it. I can’t remember the last time I read a book. Maybe I’ll check him out.”

“You don’t seem like you’d be interested in that type of thing,” you say, staring at him as if you’re trying to figure him out.

“Actually, I am. Can you stop taking every chance to insult me?”

“I’m not. At least not on purpose… So, what are your hobbies, anyway? You never told me.”

“I practice. What do you take me for?”

You furrow your eyebrows at him. “That’s it?”

Kaiser opens his mouth to justify himself even though there’s no need to be defensive — maybe it’s that he feels like he’s lacking in some department after you bring your attention to it with your little response and generally Kaiser hates to be insufficient. But before he can argue and try and talk himself out of whatever perception you have of him now, an interruption happens.

The frog, which had been lazy and content with merely existing in your grasp, springs without any warning. It leaps out of your fingers and lands on top of Kaiser’s head.

Today you learn Michael Kaiser screams at an ear-shattering frequency when he’s startled. Soap opera level of shock and overreaction.

___

It is when you’re eating at a trashy place for lunch that Kaiser’s looking at his phone, which you find rude since you’re supposed to be spending time together and whatnot. He eats like a pig, too, not graceful at all — you wonder what his fans would think if they saw him with crumbs over his mouth and sauce on his chin. Good material for a public embarrassment campaign, you think.

But it’s in that moment that he finally wipes himself with a tissue and reaches out to all but shove his phone in your face. “Look, we’re so hot!”

You grace the picture with a dismissive glance before looking back down at your meal, disinterested. You already know enough about Kaiser to assume he’d get a kick out of power couple fantasies. And other power fantasies. Really, you find it pathetic.

It was something out of the photoshoot he was showing you, his favorite you presume. Even someone like Kaiser, who has conventional features, isn’t perfect when it comes to these unreasonable standards. He’d been way too stiff next to you while he posed and though his face is symmetrical, his expressions tend to stray to one side, and obviously it’d been corrected.

There’s a mismatch between you on the covers and your image in the mirror. Maybe your brain is exaggerating the disconnect, but every time you see them, it’s like staring into an airbrushed, distorted amalgamation. In other words, you prefer avoiding both the edited products and your reflection whenever you can.

“We don’t look like that,” you say, offhand about his enthusiasm as you are with most things.

Kaiser scoffs and then very blatantly tries to compare between whatever version of you he has on his phone and the you in front of him. There’s not a single good thing you can say about his decision — it’s making your skin crawl just knowing it’s what he’s doing.

“Close enough,” he deems after careful examination.

“I don’t think it’s me.”

“It’s quite literally you.”

“I don’t think anything is me. Like I’m just what I see. My perspective, my point of view. You get what I’m saying?”

“No?” Kaiser says, laughing at you and your apparently strange affliction.

“Well if not that, you have to admit things captured on camera aren’t real.”

“What are you talking about,” Kaiser asks in a flat tone, which leaves it as something less than a question. A few more snickers escape him and he’s grinning at you like a bastard — if at first he regarded you as a slightly more fascinating bug than the rest, by now you must be his favorite, the rarest… A tree lobster. “You make no sense.”

“It totally makes sense. Imagine we’re having sex-”

“What kind of stupid come-on is that?”

“It’s not a come-on, I’m explaining. So, imagine we’re having sex-”

“In what position?”

“Whatever you want as long as it works for the scenario. Anyway, imagine we’re having sex-”

Kaiser laughs harder and then attempts some seductive sort of expression which doesn’t land with you. “I’m imagining it,” he informs.

“Shut up and let me get to the point. Imagine we’re having sex and I’m recording it-”

“Wow, I didn’t take you for such a pervert? Not that I hate it.”

“-so I’m looking at you through the camera lens. The phone’s between us. I’m not, like, in the moment with you. My mind’s absent, it’s all digital. So if you think about it we’re not even really having sex.”

“... You’re losing me even more,” Kaiser says after some contemplation, finding the fantasy unpleasant all of a sudden with this new spin to it. A moment passes during which he takes another big, possibly exaggerated bite, but he at least has enough decency to chew and swallow before adding, “I think you just have a problem.”

You roll your eyes, wondering if he even entertained the thought, but shrug since it doesn’t matter in the end. “Why are we always talking about how I’m weird? If anything, you're eccentric, not me.”

Kaiser wrinkles his nose in offense at the notion and makes an incomprehensible hand gesture in the air. “No. I’ve turned out totally normal. Don’t put me at your level.”

A lot of curiosities spin around your head concerning Kaiser’s behavior whenever you meet and you’re yet to find an answer. What does he want? Clearly he’s comfortable with and used to wanting, but what is it? Attention? Money? Fame? Status? All, none? Will it ever be enough? Is it even the kind of hunger which can be satiated?

Who is he when he’s not playing this ridiculous character?

“I can’t get a read on you,” you tell him.

“Well, you’re socially inept. I doubt you can get a read on anyone.”

“So are you.”

Kaiser feigns hurt over this. He does that a lot. Maybe he finds it hilarious, maybe the performance is all for shits and giggles — who knows.

“I want to dissect your head,” you say after a while of silence.

“Really? That’s what you wanna do with me?”

“Mhm. With a scalpel. I’d make an incision around your temple maybe.”

“My beautiful and demented angel, is that your way of saying you wanna get closer to me?” The sentence comes out mocking with a paper thin smile, but there’s a sense of admiration in it. What for? You raise an eyebrow in visible confusion at the… nickname, but Kaiser doesn’t elaborate. To take away from the tension(?), he announces, “You’ve got something stuck between your teeth,” pointing at your mouth all amused.

___

Kaiser had an ulterior motive in accepting that deal. Though wording it this way makes it sound like some calculated, opportunistic, sinister scheme, when in reality it’s nothing beyond immature and a little humiliating.

Of course, in true Kaiser fashion, when looking to meet someone, he goes straight for the most convoluted option. So when the stupid idea came up, he agreed, even if he put on a bit of a show at first and acted irritating. Confessing to wanting friends is so embarrassing. He’d rather shoot himself at point blank or perhaps commit an act of auto-defenestration than admit the real reason for participating, much less in front of you.

Despite the jabs, you’re also not bad at all. Calm and uninvolved in anything that upsets him and without any expectations towards him.

At first he found your indifference derogatory, but as the months have passed by, there’s a sort of comfort in knowing that he could’ve been some random guy off the street and you would’ve probably treated him the same. In front of you he is neither on a pedestal nor someone to be knocked down on his knees. More Michael than he is Kaiser.

Things have been teetering on a dangerous edge lately. His mind is wandering off towards you again, more and more often each day. Like maybe he’s excited for the next time he sees you or something else repulsive in a similar vein, a giddy feeling bubbling in his stomach. Is this what it would’ve been like to be a little boy with a crush?

Generally he prefers not to socialize with background characters. So he doesn’t know why it’s while he’s having some benign daydream about you that some newbie he hadn’t bothered remembering the name of decides to interrupt him. Besides, it’s inconvenient, he was supposed to be leaving and this guy is blocking the changing room door.

“I heard you’re banging a model,” he says, as if they’re good pals or some shit. Kaiser is also mostly immune to annoying locker room talk since all the other psychotic men he knows are too busy being as fanatical as him to waste time on something as useless as objectifying someone to pass the time, yet here this lowlife is.

Kaiser regards him with a judgmental side eye — for a second too long, almost television-style — and tries to move and sidestep him. “Why do you care? Pathetic cuck.”

“Woah, don’t be like that. I just thought it was funny. I’ve heard about that person before, would’ve thought it would be more of a hit it and quit it type thing. Yet here you are, still together.”

The emotion that zaps him is almost disorienting. Kaiser bruises easily, but it’s all about him. There’s never been much room for anyone else in his mentality of suffocating self-absorption, a depressing way to try and compensate for anyone who’s ever wronged him. Right now, though, he’s feeling anger on someone else’s behalf. A borderline exotic situation.

“So I was curious if that thing about loonies being the best at fucking was true? I’m assuming it is ‘cause I don’t know why else you’d stay with a schizoid.”

In the heat of the moment, when he’s pissed off, Kaiser is not the most poetic wordsmith. Thankfully politeness and civility are sensibilities which elude him. Without a second thought or any regret, he makes use of his water bottle still in his hand and dumps the entire contents of it over his head before elbowing him out of the way while he’s still confused.

___

You really don’t want to be having this conversation.

For fuck’s sake, you’re on break. And isn’t that supposed to mean relaxation? Yet the other model for the shoot today has been bugging you with unpleasant questions, putting you on the spot.

“Isn’t he a narcissist, though?” she asks, refusing to let go of the topic no matter how unresponsive you’ve been.

“I guess? Maybe. In a way…”

“You’re sooo… I don’t know. Like, you don’t even sound sure about what you’re telling me.” She narrows her eyes at you, leaning in a bit closer. “Aren’t you scared of him? Or is it ‘cause you’re so sheltered, you don’t know not to mess around with guys like Kaiser?”

Scared of him? It sounds ludicrous. At worst he’s whiny.

“He’s harmless,” you say. “Just a little rude and preoccupied with himself, that’s all. Actually, he’s an interesting and attentive person.”

She covers her mouth and lets out a sound of amusement, apparently now finding you more convincing and therefore dropping her worries. “He was saying you guys are suuuuuuuper in love with an interview.”

Not too engaged with the topic — since it’s about whatever lies Kaiser told the interviewer to entertain himself — you ask, “Is that what he was saying?”

“Yep. Didn’t you watch?”

“No.”

“Fine. Maybe he’s ‘interesting and attentive.’ I mean, I don’t believe it, but whatever. What about you, though? Do you like him, let alone love him? Can you even like anyone? I mean, shit, you know how you are. So, like, can you? Are you suuuuuuuper in love?”

You avert your eyes. “Yes,” you say. It’s true. You do like Kaiser well enough, probably more than you should. “And stop making assumptions about him and me.”

“What if I don’t stop? What are you gonna do?”

That’s… A very good question because there’s nothing you can do at the moment. Seems like a good opportunity to weaponize your reputation of being a deranged serial killer. “I’ll lick your eyebrows.”

You don’t know if your delivery is persuasive or not, but the idea you’d do such a thing must come off as believable enough because she makes a strange face before backing off.

___

You despise being in situations. And making decisions.

There’s a stupid PR meeting again. Your manager, who you think should move onto writing trashy novellas instead of administering poison to your career just because his imagination is overactive, proposed a new stunt. With the fake relationship running its course, you were discussing ways to publicize the ‘break up’ and he suggested a cheating scandal. Not to mention his great idea had you as the cheater — you swear he’s praying on your downfall at this point.

Maybe because you’ve been treated as some kind of fucked up creature incapable of thought and trustworthy decisions, something insentient, you would’ve went along with it like always. Even though you know you’d look bad, the point is to make noise, and it would be a scandalous story if not anything else. Another indignity doesn’t matter much on an endless list.

Then Kaiser in true Kaiser fashion declared that he wants to keep the relationship going. To you, such an act of flippant defiance is unthinkable.

But obviously this forces you into a position where you need to pick between your options. They’re all staring at you, waiting. Kaiser is smiling at you from across his seat like you’re in on a joke with him. Anxious, you say, “I’ll think about it,” and stand up to leave.

You’re sweating because somewhere within you wanna announce ‘Yeah, I wanna keep seeing Michael Kaiser,’ but it’s so preposterous.

Kaiser doesn’t chase after you (though it’d be his style to do such a thing solely for the drama), but he catches up to you by the time you make it outside of the building, approaching the parking lot.

“Hey. Hey! Hey, stop ignoring me. Heeeeeeey.”

God he is such an annoying pest sometimes. You turn around to face him, snapping, “What?! What was that about anyway?”

“No, what’s with you? What is there to think about? You don’t want to look like a clown in front of the world, do you?”

You’re looking at Kaiser again like you’re trying to figure out a mystery. He always wants things, but what does he want from you? There has to be a reason for this. Otherwise, he should’ve been fine with the separation instead of trying to prolong it.

“Listen,” says Kaiser, a little apprehensive at your silence and expressionless gaze, “I can tell you barely tolerate your shitty job and that you probably don’t like the moronic idea your anthropomorphized cyst of a manager came up with, so why aren’t you protesting it?”

Those are objective enough observations. However, “Anthropomorphized cyst…?”

“You’re changing the subject,” Kaiser huffs, irked. “And by the way the fake meek act isn’t cute at all. They’re making money off of you. Tell them to fuck off and die and stop acting like a hostage.”

“This is very inspirational and all, Kaiser, but how about you tell me why you wanna keep the fake relationship going?”

“Doesn’t matter. If you don’t want that either, you can say we’ll settle for ending it instead of-”

You cross your arms. “Again, your attempts at a pep talk are adorable and appreciated, but you’re changing the subject now.”

“They’re not adorable. I’m right. Say I’m right.”

“Fine, fine, you’re right,” you relent with a roll of your eyes.

Kaiser smiles snidely and clasps his hands behind his back. “Thanks,” he says in a sarcastic tone. Then you expect him to entertain your question, but he doesn’t, leaving you in an uncomfortable staredown against him and his stupid ‘beautiful glowing blue orbs’ ass eyes.

“Answer me,” you demand.

“Your unpleasant personality and reclusive ways have bewitched me.”

…

“… What?”

“I won’t repeat myself,” Kaiser says with too much attitude considering the situation. Like, he just spoke out one of the most absurd sentences you’ve ever heard.

“Do you have a brain tumor?”

The outrageous suggestion makes him scoff. “Really? You think I need a brain tumor to like you?”

“Maybe,” you say. “Should’ve let me operate on you when I offered.”

“You’re mentally disturbed,” he replies like the fact turns him on or something.

“So were you asking me out or what?”

“Yes? No? Yes. Yeah, fine, I am.”

“Do you search up ‘personality’ on porn sites?”

“Come on, be serious. I mean what I’m saying and I want to give things between us a try. Do you?”

You cringe as if admitting your feelings or overall being in touch with them in the first place is a physically painful sensation, but in your defense you think you might throw up. “Yeah… Yeah, okay, I’ll tell him tomorrow. My manager, I mean.”

Kaiser swings an arm around your shoulders, visibly pleased with the way this is all going. He sings, “That’s the spirit.”

What had he wanted from you? Affection and care, apparently. You think back on when you’d called him ‘disgusting’ and a foreign guilt overcomes you since you don’t usually lament the remarks you make during your misanthropic hissy fits.

Is it fine for someone such as yourself to also indulge in wanting? Hesitant, with shaky arms, you embrace him around the middle, the gentlest of hugs. Kaiser freezes for a moment as if he’s unsure what to do when he’s not the one initiating things, but eventually returns the gesture. Melts into it, even. Two existences brushing against one another, at first glance contrary yet perhaps similar in many ways.

When you finally pull away from each other little by little, Kaiser says, “Let’s elope now.”

You sigh. “You sure have a way of making everything sound way more exciting than it is.”

(He drives you back to your place, but still sucks at driving. Chivalrously, he avoids crashing the car, though.)

___

Yall I was drinking light yellow tap water for a few daysdo you think somethings gonna happen to me ?

Btw I hate this but it's finally finished after like around a month so whatever lol I' M FREE

#michael kaiser x reader #blue lock x reader #kaiser x reader #blue lock x you #bllk x reader #michael kaiser x you

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if-loves · 2 days

Text

etude op. 10 no. 4 (torrent)

// Yandere Dr Ratio

Sum: When the rain falls, so too does your tears.

wc: 3278

warnings: implied depression, suicidal thoughts, implied suicide attempt, ooc ratio probably

a/n: sorry for the disappearance LMAO uni was holding me by the neck and not in the way i enjoy

also this was a whole load of yapping ngl maybe i projected too much xd

also pls let me know if i missed any tags!! i’d hate to mistag/forget any cw tags

likes & reblogs are appreciated! asks are more than welcome ❤️

As a student with the honor of studying directly under the one and only Veritas Ratio, you’re more than used to the bluntness of his words and his marking. After all, he’s the Dr Veritas Ratio, arguably one of the most intelligent people, beings even, in the cosmos, and you’re just a mere academic. Sure, you’ve had your theories and whatnot, but compared to someone like Dr Ratio you’re basically a child.

Everyone tells you that you’re incredibly fortunate to be able to have someone as prestiged as him as your tutor, that you would take advantage of the opportunity and use it to further your own studies and knowledge, but you’re not quite sure if furthering your studies is truly what you desire. Coming to university was already an expectation from your parents, who in their right mind would reject them when they’ve already saved all that money exclusively for your studies?

You don’t think yourself to be especially smart or gifted in anything. To yourself, you are just a regular person who will go on to graduate, find a job, and maybe settle down if you were given the chance. You don’t expect much for and from yourself.

However, Dr Ratio clearly seems to think otherwise; or else why would he choose you of all people to be under his tutelage?

It has been almost twelve cycles of the moon, and you have yet to figure out why. The agreed period of mentoring is coming to its end, and he expects a full length thesis and three separate reports from you concerning your studies and experience under him, and you cannot for the life of you think of anything that could ever satisfy him. In the whole period of his guidance, he has never once scored you above a low thirties. The more it happened, the more you thought it was more of a him issue than yours - but that’s what people who can’t take criticism say, so perhaps you’ll refrain from thinking that thought.

The sun had long set, leaving your side of the planet at the mercy of the night. In front of you, a too-bright screen from your laptop glares at you with a blank page, as if demanding you finally do something instead of staring out of the window wistfully as if you were some widow lamenting the loss of her husband.

It takes you everything not to just give up and curl up in the warmth of your bed.

With the nth sigh of the day, you woefully start typing, frustration in the pits of your mind. What in the world could you even write about, anyway? The spinning of the sun? No, you’re sure there’s thousands of papers written about that, similarly for the moon; you’re not one for mathematics either, so that was out of the question. Science isn’t really your forte either, so your options for a paper that would gain Dr Ratio’s approval is about zero. Maybe you should just drop out.

When the world is asleep, you remain awake, and so too does something else.

~~~

There are still a few days left before your thesis and reports are to be submitted, and you can’t help but feel like you’ve written utter nonsense.

What in the world are you talking about? Even you didn’t know. Something about some mythicised substance known as Xuixzedlm, that’s apparently supposed to be what the deep oceans of your world is made of, but none have been able to explore said oceans due to their size, toxicity and the creatures lurking beneath its surface. In fact, almost 99% of the oceans have remained unexplored.

You kind of regret choosing such a substance to be the main part of your thesis, considering how little information there is of it. Sure, the main point of a thesis is to propose a theory to be proved, but for something like this where the research is extremely minimal, you’ve ended up circling back to your previous points due to the lack of ideas and, of course, proven research. Not that he’d care about your excuses.

Your days leading up to the submission date are spent typing, deleting, and referencing your paper. You’re a little less stressed about the report because it didn’t exactly require the same thinking as a thesis did, so you managed to finish those in a week. You’d still need to proofread them a few more times to ensure grammar and whatnot was perfect, but ultimately, its priority was far lower on your list.

However, something odd has happened recently.

One evening when you had finally arrived back home after spending most of the day at one of the university’s libraries, you found a silver key with lilac purple highlights and a strange symbol in the middle. You’d asked your parents, but they hadn’t a clue either, leading to some concern that your room may have been broken into. There were a few off parts about that theory, some being that none of your belongings were missing, there was no evidence of lock tampering on your windows, and most of all, why said person would leave an expensive and important looking key on your table.

The sudden and suspicious appearance of the key led to you keeping it on your person at all times, for a reason you’re not exactly quite sure of other than because it felt right. There’s an inexplicable familiarity to it, as if it belongs to you, but you can never seem to recall where you’ve seen it before, if you ever have in the first place.

Another weird thing has been happening ever since you found the key - you’ve been feeling a strange desire to enter the toxic ocean.

The sounds of the waves splashing against the shore invites you in your dreams, and you always take a step forward, one step after another until the water almost touches your toes. The sun is setting upon you, the breeze gently blowing; the sight in front of you is the picture of ethereal. Just as you take one more step, just as you fall into the abyss, someone pulls you back and you are jolted awake.

Scholars say dreams are the subconscious taking its turn, toying with fantasies and fears indiscriminately. Sometimes they mix, giving birth to hopes that only end in hopelessness, happiness that only ends in despair. If this is true, does your subconscious desire death?

~~~

Veritas Ratio has always thought himself as logical. Most have thought the same of him as well, the rest thinking him some sharp-tongued snake that will not hesitate to bite them should he see fit.

When it comes to you however, he feels an unexplainable feeling in his chest and head, a desire that has only grown since the moment he chose you to be under his guidance for a year. His harshness may not reflect it, but it is merely his way of showing he cares - by being extra critical of your work so that you know how to improve. Veritas Ratio truly wants nothing but the best for a student like you.

Lately, this feeling has grown much in size and desire, leaving him finding trouble in resisting it. It lingers like a persistent headache, and acts up when you are around, leaving him in a constant battle for retention of sanity. His mental fortitude currently leaves him with the upper hand, but who knows for how long.

For someone who prides themself on being logical, he sure feels illogical as he stares at your student ID photo.

It’s one of your least flattering pictures he’s sure, but he finds himself staring at it all the same. The nuisance in his head keeps telling him frankly worrisome thoughts, but he feels no desire to act upon them… at least, the sane part of him doesn’t.

He knows there’s something special about you, and some selfish part of him doesn’t want this mentorship to end, to let you go. There’s no way of being able to guarantee ever seeing you again, so what if…

No. Irrationality has no place in his ideals, let alone in his life.

~~~

You’ve submitted your thesis and reports to him, and now you sit in front of him with your heart pounding in your chest. Is there anything scarier than the judgment of your teacher?

Your hands are laid on your lap, the key in your pocket. The coldness of it transcends the fabric of your pants, a constant reminder of the mystery it holds, and the thoughts it brings. Even now, you find your heart yearning for the sea.

You’re afraid to look at him. You’re afraid of what his expression could tell you, of the disapproval you’re expecting. You’re afraid of disappointing him once again, afraid of his rejection and the harsh words that will inevitably leave his lips. He will berate you once more, and you will be left to silently take it because truthfully, you know he’s right.

The silence continues, and you feel a sudden dizziness and the urge to throw up. You wish the sea would swallow you whole.

“I do not have enough time to finish reviewing everything today, so proper feedback will be given one week from now in person. As for the next few days, they shall continue as normal, as you are still under my tutelage. Do not forget, you still have readings to finish before tomorrow’s class.” He shuts his laptop and takes his alabaster head with him, once again leaving you to drown in the torrent of self-deprecation.

The sea embraces all, doesn’t it? It will lap up all those who dare to offer it their lives, no matter what achievements the person has made in their life, no matter if they are even a person at all. The sea… welcomes all.

(It’ll welcome you, right?)

~~~

After you left the university, you found yourself on the train to the beach. Night is upon the city, but the ocean doesn’t sleep.

People filter out of the trains one by one, until only you are left in the carriage. Announcement after announcement of stops and the sound of the train’s wheels scraping the tracks below it are the only disturbances in the otherwise peaceful silence. Despite the quietness, you cannot hear yourself. The key in your pocket feels like it is burning itself into your skin, but it is also the only thing keeping you awake, a reminder that you are still alive.

You wonder if the ocean too will eat the key, or if it will sink into its depths. Will you sink to the depths?

The train stops at its end, and your legs automatically move. You walk until you hear the sound of waves crashing onto the shore, until you are stopped by a barrier. In an act of madness (or is it desire?), you scale the wall until there is no more to scale, until you see the other side.

There is a certain beauty about the ocean that you can’t quite describe to anyone, that pictures cannot replicate. It brings you a sense of peace, like all will be right in the world. If you could just…

The jump down from the barrier is no easy task. It is a long way down, and the sand can only soften the drop so much; yet, you jump.

Something hurts, but you’re enamored by the sparkling surface of the water. It beckons you, inviting you to a new world beneath its surface, a place to be free of all worries and pains. A place to sleep peacefully, no nightmares or dreams to plague you. It offers you everything the world cannot.

You feel your bag drop off your shoulders, like a weight lifted. A hand takes the key out, holding it tightly as you walk towards the promise of a home. What mysteries will be answered by this new world?

You’d like to apologize to your parents for the disappointment that you are. You had neither the mental fortitude nor the drive to be a success, and you’d like to apologize to Dr Ratio for wasting a year’s worth of his time on an incompetent student like you. His time would have been better spent on honor students, not a mundane, average student like you. You are destined to be just another cog in the wheel, and once you rust, you will be thrown out just like everyone else has and will be.

You find yourself a step away from the water, just like in your dream. You think you see a door. The key in your hand burns hotter. The world pauses. You take a step.

The feeling of the liquid never comes, but being pulled does.

“Just what in the universe are you thinking?!” This voice… is familiar. This voice… Who is it? It can’t be Dr Ratio, no…

But those amber eyes, so familiar, it has to be…

But why? Why?

“I…” Words fail you, just like they always have. What could you possibly say to him? He must think you mad, unfit to graduate, unfit to live perhaps.

“Do you wish to be swallowed by the gaping abyss? For what? To prove the existence of Xuixzedlm? Do you think your life so worthless that you think sacrificing it for nothing is what will make it meaningful?!” He is… angry. You’ve never seen him like this. Dr Ratio doesn’t get angry. “So? Say something, anything, that could possibly help me understand why you’d attempt such an act of foolishness!”

“Why does it matter to you?!” You shout, wringing your arm free from his tight grip. He has pulled you far enough from the gentle ocean, far away from the door. You look back at it, and it remains floating above the water. The key is still in your hand.

“Are you so dull that you need to ask such a useless question?” He scoffs. He moves to grab your arm again, but you instinctively bring the hand holding the key to your chest, afraid that he would take it from you. His eyes, shades of intense amber, follow your hand and lock on to the key you hold. He frowns.

“Yes! Yes, I am! I am so utterly stupid that teaching me is a waste of time, that you should leave me alone! If… if I wasn’t here, then there’d be one less stupid person in the universe! Isn’t that what you want?” Are tears running down your face, or is the sky weeping on your behalf?

He stares at you, and his lips do not move. It goes on like this, until you are both drenched in the rain, clothes wet and only the tempting sound of the ocean, and the pitter-patter of raindrops blending into the dark waters. Moonlight briefly shines upon the both of you, and you see his face clear - there is no anger, only contemplation.

“If you have nothing more to say, then leave me alone.” You turn around and set your sights upon the floating door once more, the key still held to your heart. With a resolved mind, you once more walk towards the beckoning arms of the abyss, the promise of no tomorrow.

Dr Ratio doesn’t stop you until you are one foot in the water. There is a searing pain, but you are one step closer to the door, to a stagnancy that life could never offer you. You are one foot in the water when a familiar symbol appears on the door, like an eye staring at you. You are one foot out of the water when you realize what it is.

“You have lost your mind.” He says, pointedly. You struggle in his grip, but he doesn’t falter. If anything, his hold only tightens. The pain from the water is nothing compared to the pain of losing freedom.

“Let- me- GO!” You desperately push against his chest, legs swinging. Why couldn’t he just let you go? Why did he care so much? What value do you bring to him, other than more evidence that he is far more blessed than the rest of the universe ever could be?

“Struggling will do you no good. Stay still, and I would not have to restrain you like this.” He glares at you from the corner of his eye as he brings you further away from your salvation, and the final straw is when he wrestles the key out of your hand. You’re inconsolable as he takes you past the barrier, brings you to his vehicle, and takes you to the place you can only assume is his apartment.

You let him guide you to the bath and clean your injured foot with a gentleness that is unbecoming of him, and he runs you a bath all while you grieve. Both of you say nothing as he treats you like a child, and you let him bind you to the bedpost without any struggle. To struggle is to fight, to fight is to have a desire to spread your wings; you lost that the moment he took you away.

Dr Ratio, or rather Veritas as he insists you call him, has shown you such a different side of him that you don’t know what to make of it. He holds you at night like you’re lovers, kisses you like he means it. He dutifully takes care of you, and you do not respond in kind. Despite this, he treats you all the same, with no trace of the Dr Ratio you’ve known for the last year, and only of the Veritas that you’ve met ever since that night.

You never see the key again.

~~~

One day, he has packed up everything. You briefly wonder if this meant that he’d be leaving you behind, but to your disappointment, he brings you along. He has cuffed you to himself, a reminder of the rights you have lost when you let him have his way with you.

“Veritas,” his name tastes like poison. “Where are we going?”

“The IPC has assigned me to Penacony, the land of dreams.” He responds without hesitation, turning to face you. “Naturally, you’ll be coming with me.”

You want to say no. You want him to leave you here, to give you back your key, to bring you back to the sea. The scar on your foot is a reminder of what could’ve been, what he has taken from you, and you haven’t - or rather, will never - forgive him. He will never deserve your forgiveness.

“Have… have you told my family?” You whisper, your throat as dry as the sand on the beach. Your hands fidget, and you find yourself unable to look at him; but truthfully, you don’t need to. He has ensured that every part of him has been engraved into the depths of your brain, and carved into your heart.

“…There is no point dwelling on the past. I am your family now. Clinging to such bygones will only serve to erode your mind, and limit your ability to live life.” He is firm, sounding more like the Dr Ratio you knew. He holds the hand that he has chained to his own and brings it to lips, the band of silver gleaming in the sunlight. It is a reminder. A firm, cruel, reminder of who he really is.

Veritas Ratio is nothing more than an illogical, selfish, arrogant, cruel and lovesick beast who allowed his heart (if you could even call it that) to take the reins.

Veritas Ratio is nothing more than a liar.

#honkai star rail #yandere #yandere honkai star rail #yandere hsr #hsr #dr ratio #veritas ratio #ratio x reader #yandere dr ratio #yandere veritas ratio #yandere x reader #cw depression #cw sui ideation #cw sui thoughts #cw sui attempt

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danveration · 4 hours

Note

Could you do a Cooper Howard x reader angst? Something with the reader getting injured or dying and/ or becoming a ghoul?

You and your stories are amazing btw❤️!!!

Thank you!

Parings: Cooper Howard x reader

Summary: You get shot and Cooper comes to your aid.

Word count: 1344

Warnings: Guns, blood, shooting, reader getting shot in the thigh, Cooper being a softy

A/N: sorry if you meant post-nuclear bomb. (if you wanted cooper howard like.. normal human & stuff) ALSO I JUST REALIZED THIS ISN'T VERY ANGSTY 😭😭 FFS. I hope you like it either way :))

It was a hectic situation. There were at least ten people pointing guns directly at you from all around. This was not how you expected your day to go. You didn’t even do anything remotely wrong. Just stumbled into the wrong place at the wrong time. Which was pretty common around here.

You were by yourself right now, which was another downfall. You didn’t have the capabilities yet to kill a bunch of people on your own. Maybe if you sweet talked them..? You doubt that would work. If only Cooper were here. He would have them all dead in a blink of an eye. Especially because they were threatening you. He seemed to have a soft spot for you for whatever reason. You felt the same way towards him. Even though people would look at you like you’re insane, you don’t care. You can see something in him that nobody else can. He always had a bit of a protective nature towards you the moment you two met. You thought he would’ve killed you, but he just laughed at how scared you looked and ensured that he doesn’t kill without a motive. And in his words “won’t dare harm a pretty thing like you.”

He is currently god knows where. You were tagging along with him but he went to go get more vials. He said he knows a spot where he can snag a couple. That was about two hours ago. It would be great if he just miraculously appeared right now.

“L-listen. I don’t want any trouble, okay? I’m just passing through.” You say, trying to sound brave but the whimper in your voice made itself known.

“Yeah, passing through OUR territory.” One of the men said, with a raspy tone.

“I didn’t know! I’ll go. Right now.” You say quickly, starting to move forward.

“Uh-uh!” One of them yelled.

You hear all their guns go off safely and you stop dead in your tracks. The panic and fear you feel makes your skin develop goosebumps.

“We can’t let you go, can we? What kind of example would we be settin’ if we did?” One of them spoke.

“Oh, just walk right into our territory, It’s all good!! It wouldn't be our territory if we did that, would it?” One of them say in a mocking tone.

“P-please. I just-“ You begin to say.

“Now what on hells creation is goin’ on here?” You hear no other than Cooper’s voice in the other direction.

You subconsciously release a breath you didn’t know you were holding.

All the people snap their heads to the ghouls voice. Some of them look scared, but some of them look angry that their fun got spoiled.

“Well? Gonna keep gawking or is somebody going to tell me what the fucks goin’ on here?” He says.

“W-well we caught this one roaming on our territory.” One of the people spoke up.

“And?” Cooper questions them, as if daring them to say what they were going to do to you.

They’re all silent. Except for one. He must be new here or something because he speaks up in an angry tone, “and were gonna kill them.” He says, pointing the gun at you. He looks around at all his other gang members, and how they’re not pointing the gun at you anymore.

He raised a brow, “what’s the big idea? Why’s nobody else-“

BANG

Cooper shoots the man in the arm, not letting him finish his sentence.

Everything went slow from there. You see Cooper giving the man cold eyes, and then from your vision, you see the man look down at his arm, then you see him, with his other hand, grab his gun and quickly shoot you in your thigh before Cooper sends another bullet straight through his head, leaving him instantly falling to the ground.

You hiss out in pain and look down, seeing red liquid gush out and stain your pants.

Cooper whips his head towards you.

“Fuckin’-“ He mumbles as he rushes over, getting on his knees in front of you.

Everyone around immediately makes a quick exit, not wanting to suffer the same fate as the other guy.

Cooper would’ve killed them all for that, if it wasn’t for him not wanting to take his eyes or attention off of you. He feels scared, worried, mad, and mostly desperate. Desperate to stop the bleeding, desperate to go back in time and never leave you alone in the first place. He would laugh at himself for feeling these feelings any other time, just not now. Now he has to focus all his attention on you.

“Is it bad?” You mumble out to him, not wanting to fully look at it.

Cooper thankfully notices how it isn’t in a vital place. The bullet went right through, so he doesn’t have to worry about digging it out or it causing complications.

“Well you got shot, sweetheart. It’s bad but it isn’t deadly. You’ll be alright.” He says, trying to ease the worry off of you.

He’s got to get you to a safe spot so he can properly treat the wound. Luckily he has lots of experience with these kinds of situations.

He stands up and leans down, putting his arm behind your knees, lifting you up and carrying you bridal style.

Your eyes go wide and you gasp in shock, but don’t complain. You don’t think you can walk anyhow.

Your cheeks flush and you feel a swell in your heart from his actions. He walks in silence, his brain wracking at how he shouldn’t have left you alone, and how he swears to make sure this won’t happen again. You’re in his arms, hurting, but for some reason you swear it hurts a little less because he’s close to you.

“This won’t never happen again, I swear it. You better be more cautious around these parts though, darlin’. Especially with me not around. People don’t give no mercy.” He says to you.

A little while later, you’re sitting on a mattress in an abandoned building. Your pants are pulled down a bit on one side, so he has access to the wounded leg. Cooper carefully cleaning and wrapping up your wound with a concentrated face. You stare at him and how his eyes look, how his forehead is frowned down in focus, and how his hands are handling you carefully, as if they aren’t used on a daily basis for killing and violence.

“You’re lucky it’s in this spot. A little to the left or right, and you might’ve not been able to use this leg again. Would’ve had to get you those robot leg attachments.” He says, laughing at the end of his sentence.

“You mean the ones that practically rip your leg to shreds? No thanks.” You say, laughing.

You look at him softly as he’s smiling gently, while finishing up wrapping your leg.

“Now would you look at that? All better.” He says, gesturing to your skillfully wrapped leg.

“Thank you, Coop.” You say. “I’m really lucky you came in time.”

“Well, I’d argue I was a tad bit late, but of course, darlin’. I’m glad I got there before things could’ve gotten worse.” He says back to you, adjusting his hat on his head.

He cares about you. It realized that right when he heard that gun shot go in your direction. His heart sank to his stomach immediately, thinking the worse. He’s going to make sure to keep a tight leash on you from now on out. Not in a bad way, just in a way that he’s able to be there if anything happens.

“Thank you, Cooper.” You say softly out of nowhere, looking at him with a bit of blush on your cheeks.

He nods his head in your direction. “You’re quite welcome, sweetheart. Now why don’t you be a doll and rest up. I might’ve wrapped it all neat n’ all, but you’ll still need to let it heal. We can take a couple hours break here."

#my works #fallout #fallout x reader #ghoul #the ghoul #ghoul fallout #cooper howard #cooper howard x reader #cooper howard fallout x reader #ghoul x reader #the ghoul x reader #fallout ghoul x reader #ghoul fallout x reader #cooper howard fallout #cooper howard x you #fallout fan fiction

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egg-crusher · 3 days

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New the amazing digital circus chapter came out and I want to talk about it

First the Candy Canyon Kingdom is a very nice setting, is basically just sugar rush from wreck it Ralph but I still like it

I like how they foreshadowes Pomni’s escape from the test room at the beginning with her falling on a cube causing the colíderes to go awry y send her flying to the ceiling

Gumigoo was great, I like how to shows the AI’s not being evil since the made up story Caine made is him stealing the syrup for his village, and even after discovering his live was a lie he still tried to help his lads

On the topic of “non evil ai” after hearing how Gumigoo was a good guy and the Fudge calling the princess wretched, I for one second thought she would be a twist villain, but nope, she’s really a good person

I also like how Caine and Bubbles seems to be the most primitive AI’s

The princess is calm and nice, Gumigoo friends are dumb but in a cartoony and not AI like way, Gumigoo is very good at being like a human, even Fudge is aware his a despicable and disgusting creature (although not for the murders but that’s just how he was made)

Meanwhile Caine can’t read the room or understand human emotions besides boredom being bad for their stability while not understanding the problems of deleting NPC’s the players get attached to, unlike Gumigoo which understood revealing the truth would be bad for them

Also the test room not having Gumigoo’s mum but having Fudge implies Caine planned they would fall into the pit, and since they couldn’t escape from that situation without fudge’s help implies letting Fudge into the kingdom was the way the adventure was supposed to end

Specially since Fudge was programmed to be able to walk in land, why else’s would he need it?

Caine doesn’t understand what can and can’t help their mental health so he wouldn’t see anything wrong in letting Fudge into the Kingdom

I find really funny how Jax was the evilest guy in the situation, unlike the Gloinks, here there’s a nuisance on the history with Fudge just being a monster in a pit (kinda like Moana, Maui isn’t pure evil and Teka isn’t evil either, Tamatoa is just vibing and waiting to do evil) but Jax is the one who wants to destroy the kingdom for the laughs

Note:fudge reminds me of “the great mighty POO” of conkers bad fur day

Also I really like how they didn’t brush of Kaufmo and showed they actually cared for him and is ultimately this act of kindness the thing that helps Pomni to see the circus as family

Note:notice how she didn’t add kinger to the ones saving her, maybe he didn’t appear because his hand wouldn’t be recognizable with the shading and all that but is still worth to mention

Also I like how Kinger acts supportive but forgets what he was saying mid sentence, I don’t know if he was faking madness or he’s really damaged. But I like how he really cares

Also the humans can just not go to Caine’s adventures like Zooble does which shows Caine isn’t evil but misguided

And before last I want to mention Caine not allowing other npcs in the grounds, he’s silence after saying “who knows what might happen” implies something, and seeing how some of the doors in the pilot have the faces of the mannequins implies he use to allow npcs but something happen

This makes me theorize someone MIGHT be a NPC, my money is on Kinger since he’s borderline unhinged and lasted for way too long to be normal

Also that would explain why there was a Queener, since the possibility of two humans getting the matching avatars is too small it makes me thing the two were NPC’s and during the accident Queener got deleted by something or someone and the only reason Kinger hasn’t abstracted is because he isn’t a human, him being a npc also explains how he knows so much of the circus

He might have been from a time NPC’s we’re allowed to be self aware of the circus being digital, maybe that’s why Caine hasn’t upgraded his AI since that would risk him going crazy or give up like Gumigoo almost goes

Also Maybe Kinger mental state must be because of Caine, if Caine deleted Queener then Kinger must have been angry but for some reason Caine choose to make him forget making Kinger the forgetful king he is now days but Caine must have forgotten about Kinger being a NPC

this is the same Caine who let that unfinished exit door roam around which caused Kaufmo to get abstracted, it wouldn’t surprise me he also forgot Kinger was a NPC

And for last I want to mention the last scene being a direct parallel of the last scene of the pilot, all the crew is reunited and Pomni comes to a realization as a version of the theme song starts

Except of being massive and dreadful, here is hopeful and calm. Instead of looking at the camera and ignoring everyone while going crazy with a crazy smile filled with despair, she focuses on the others and genuinely smiles

The camera starts moving away but in a much slower manner as the music slowly ends with a simple calm piano instead of a massive chaotic orchestra

The finale of episode 2 is a opposite of the pilot, being a small note of hope compared to the dreadful realization of Episode 1

#the amazing digital circus #pomni #gummigoo #Zooble #princess loolilalu #fudge #tadc caine #caine #jax #tadc ragatha #tadc kinger #tadc queener #theory #analysis

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queen-of-the-avengers · 1 day

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The Past Comes A Knockin'

Pairing: Mafia!Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~2.7k

Warnings: angst, bucky threatening to kill people if you don't go to him

Summary: You've spent so much time running from the man of your dreams, the love fo your life. You found out something heartbreaking about him and now you run in fear instead of toward him. You should know by now that he will always find you whether you want him to or not.

Between Love and Hate Masterlist

Squares Filled: on opposing sides (2023) for @buckybarnesbingo

Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3

Then

Only that would happen in a movie. Pouring rain. A girl running to find the love of her life. Love confessions shared. Sometimes, you thought you lived in a movie. Any time spent with Bucky felt that way.

Bucky’s mansion sat on the top of the hill on the outskirts of town. The only people who went that way were either to see Bucky or because they made the wrong turn somewhere. The rain had not helped you see much in front of you but you still ran with purpose up to his big iron gates. Two armed guards stood outside of it to keep unwanted visitors away.

“I’m sorry, Miss, this is private property,” one of the men said.

“I’m here to see Bucky.”

Both men looked at each other before one of them placed his hand over his ear like he was talking to someone over his earpiece.

“Sir, we got someone outside asking for you… Miss, what’s your name?”

“Y/N.”

“Her name is Y/N… Yes, sir.” He nodded to the other guard who stepped back from the gate. “He’s waiting for you at the house.”

The gate started opening from someone with remote access, and you entered the property before you had a chance to talk yourself out of it. It seemed like the rain had gotten worse as soon as you stepped foot on his property.

No matter. It wouldn't stop you from doing this.

His mansion got bigger the closer you got to it. He knew exactly when you’d got to his doorstep because you didn’t have time to knock on the door. He opened it when you stepped onto the porch.

You were soaking wet while he stayed bone dry, safe inside his mansion.

“Fuck you,” you said, “for invading my head. I tried all week to get you out of my head but I can’t. I can’t stop thinking about you since we met so here I am like some desperate girl asking you out.”

He chuckles and you almost melt right there and then. He had such a dazzling smile and he knew it.

“You came all this way in the pouring rain to ask me out on a date?”

Bucky could say with confidence that he has never had a girl do all of this for him. Usually, he did the chasing. It was a nice change to be on the receiving end of it.

“Yeah, I guess I did,” you chuckled and squeezed out water from your hair. He continued to chuckle but this is not a laughing matter. “This isn’t funny, Bucky. You’re like a parasite.”

“Not the first time I’ve been called that.” He stepped out from his cozy mansion and joined you in the rain. “What if I say no to you?”

“I’ll make you say yes.”

“What if I tell you to turn around, leave, and never come back?”

“I’ll come back tomorrow.”

That was enough for Bucky to make up his mind. He grabbed you and lifted you into his arms. You wrapped all four limbs around him as a way to keep him close, afraid that if you let go, he would disappear.

He kissed you as he carried you into his mansion, not caring if he got water all over the ground. That was all he needed to make his decision: you’re his and only his.

Now

That moment seemed like forever ago. Times have changed since then but would you go back to it? Living in ignorant bliss seems like the best way to live but then you wouldn’t have all the answers you want—need. Life seemed so simple back then but you have to keep your head high and try to move on as best as you can.

So, you ran and ran until you couldn’t anymore. You found a college on the other end of the country where you felt like you could try and live a normal life—a life away from Bucky.

You found your passion in fashion design while away from Bucky. You find joy in making clothes and blankets for people and hope to be a big designer one day. This college is going to help you do that if you can maintain your sweet girl facade.

No one here knows about your past. No one here is out to get you. No one here is going to bring you back to him no matter how much your heart aches for him.

You only started college nearly a year ago so you’re almost done with your second semester of your first year. It’s been a quiet experience only because you don’t let anyone in. If you do, he might get to them in order to get to you. Since you left, you know he’s been desperate to find you and you’re going to try as best as you can to remain hidden.

If he does happen to show, you’ll be ready.

You walk on campus, heading to your first class when someone from your fashion design class jogs to catch up with you.

“Hey, Rayne, right?” You gave him a fake name like you did with everyone. You’re not stupid enough to give him your real name. “You’re in my fashion design class.”

Yeah, you recognize him. He has short dark brown hair that fluffs out on top with skin that looks like light caramel. He has a sharp jawline and dark brown eyes that seem to hold mysteries. He’s a few inches taller than you but built like a baseball athlete. Not too muscular but enough to make him look strong.

“Yeah. You’re Giovanni.”

“Gio. Only my dad calls me Giovanni,” he chuckles.

“Right. What’s up?”

“We’ve had the same two fashion classes for two semesters. I know this is bold of me but I think you’re beautiful. Would you like to have a drink with me? Maybe dinner this weekend?”

Going on a date with another man seems harmless but if he found out about it, he’ll kill him. Plus, you’re not sure if you’re ready to move on from him.

“I don’t know. It’s not that you’re not un-datable. I just have so much shit going on in my life. It wouldn’t be fair to you if I couldn’t give you my all, you know?”

“Will you be okay if I asked for your number?”

Again, if he finds another man’s number in your phone, he’ll kill him. Then again, you’ve been on the run for nearly a year and he hasn’t popped back up in your life. Are you done for good? Can you finally move on and live your life the way you think you deserve?

“Sure,” you find yourself saying.

What’s the harm? He’ll have your number and if you don’t want to respond, you won’t. You’ll even block his number if you need to. It’ll be awkward in class but you’re saving his life if you do.

He takes out his phone and gives it to you so you can input your number into it. He calls you immediately after you have his number before putting his phone away.

“I gotta go to class but I’ll text you later.”

“Okay.”

Gio runs off in the opposite direction to his next class while you continue to walk to your first one. This English class is a requirement for your degree even though you’re not interested in the subject at all. You’ve never been a writer or a reader, and you don’t have an interest in Othello or To Kill A Mockingbird. You read those books in high school. Still, you do your work and keep your head down like you have done every day for the past year.

About halfway through the class, an alarm bell sounds over the loudspeaker. Weird, you’ve never heard this alarm before. You’ve done fire drills, sure, but never with this alarm. The professor immediately walks to the door and locks it before pulling down every shade to cover the windows from anyone lurking outside.

“Alright, folks, that is our lockdown alarm. Until they give the all-clear, please gather to this side of the room and remain quiet.”

Every student gets up and huddles in one corner of the room, away from the window on the door. If anyone were able to look inside, they wouldn’t see a single soul. Is this a drill? Is this real? Are you in any danger? He’d never put you in danger but that only applies physically. He did a lot of damage to your heart and mind which is why you escaped from him.

Half the students are silent in fear that this is real while the other half are on their phones without a care in the world. You take your phone out to check the time when the loudspeaker crackles to life.

“Y/N… pisică, I know you’re here.” Your entire body floods with fear. “Come out, come out, wherever you are.” It’s no surprise he found you. He finds everyone eventually. Why did you think you’d be able to run from him? “I’ll be nice and give you five minutes to show yourself. If you don’t, heads will roll. Your choice. Time starts now.”

Everyone in the classroom is confused except for you--you’re paralyzed with fear. It takes you thirty seconds to break out of your shell and get up despite the professor calling your fake name. No one knows your real name is Y/N. No one knows he’s here for you.

You grab your bag from your chair and flee the classroom. With the halls empty, it’s easy to get to the stairwell fast. If you can get to your car in the parking lot, you can speed out of here and go someplace where he won’t find you. If you’d ever be so lucky to.

You walk outside and see multiple armed guards walking the campus in search of you. On one end are men you don’t recognize, but you do recognize the men on the other side. Sam Wilson and Steve Rogers. Bucky’s right-hand men. The two he trusts above everyone else. You need to be smart about this or your escape plan would have been for nothing.

You run down the stairs carefully and stay close to the buildings where there are bushes to hide in. If one of them looks like they’re going to spot you, you’d duck behind a bush and wait for them to pass. The parking lot isn’t far from your class but you still treat this as if it’s on the other side of the parking lot.

You sneak past Sam who has his back to you to the only bush separating him and your car. The parking lot only has a few trees but none of them are big enough for you to hide behind. If you want to get to your car, you’ll have to sprint and hope they don’t see you.

Sam scans the parking lot before turning away from it. You take this moment to book it to your car, hoping that he doesn’t turn and see you. You unlock your car by using the key to the door instead of the button because you don’t want to make a lot of noise. When you close the door, Sam turns back to the parking lot and notices you in your car.

If you happen to get caught, you have a knife in your bag that you’ll use. It won’t do good to the many guns Bucky and his men have but it’s better than nothing. Sam watches you peel out of the parking lot before tuning into his earpiece.

“Boss, I got her. She’s leaving the parking lot now.”

“Good. Follow her. I’m on my way.”

You push on the accelerator as soon as you hit the main road. It’s weird you don’t see any other cars on the road. Maybe that’s Bucky’s doing. Whatever. It makes for a quick escape. You look in the rearview mirror to see if you’re being followed and let out a breath of relief when you don’t. That is until you do, and fear spikes not only in your heart but your brain.

You don’t have a good car since you had to buy a junker with the little money you had for yourself. Bucky gave you a card to always use but the second you did, he’d have found you. To pay for the car, you’d take odd jobs here and there and always had them be cash, never checks.

The passenger’s window rolls down and a gun appears out of it. You duck down just as the person starts shooting at you. Well, the person is shooting at your car, not you. Bucky’s men are professional marksmen so it only takes two shots to puncture two tires. You grip the steering wheel as your car slides and skids to the side of the road.

Shit. You sustained maybe a few cruises from where your body hit the side of the car but you’re otherwise unhurt. You need to get out of here. You grab your phone and knife and leave the car. Everything else is replaceable. The car that was shooting at you is less than a mile from where you are but you can feel his eyes on you.

They’re far enough away that maybe you can run away from them. You turn to run the opposite way but another black SUV comes screeching to a halt in front of you. Maybe if you run into the woods on either side of the road, you might be able to get away. You run to the left onto to be stopped by Steve who looks as if he’d been waiting there for you. Behind you, two more men come out from behind trees.

All of them with guns. All of them under Bucky.

The car that shot at you comes to a complete stop a few yards from you. The back door opens and Bucky steps out in a nicely pressed suit that should be illegal. He looks too damn good to be who he is.

“Steve, please let me go. Please!”

Steve doesn’t listen and ends up throwing you back into the middle of the circle. With nowhere to go, you turn to Bucky and grip the knife in your hand. When he gets close enough, you raise your knife to do damage to him but he is too quick for you. He takes out his own gun and points it at you, causing you to freeze in fear.

“Drop the knife,” he says calmly. You look around and try to think of a way out of this but he is one step ahead of you. As always. He steps closer and puts the gun to the side of your head, moving it down to your chin and lifting it so you can only look at him. God, he’s so tall. “Stop trying to figure a way out of this and do as you’re told.”

You have no choice but to listen to him. Seeing him again after nearly a year hurts your heart because you know you’re still so damn in love with him. You love him but hate the kind of person he is. He’s dangerous and ruthless and a killer.

“You won’t shoot me,” you confidently say.

“No?” You shake your head and he pulls the trigger. It’s a blank but the sound of the gun clicking is enough to send you right back into your pool of fear. “The next one might not be a blank.” He puts his gun away but his men are still on alert. “It took so long to find you. You’re getting creative with your escapes.”

“I’ll escape again. I’ve done it before.”

You’ve always been so amusing to him.

“I’ll deal with this when we get home. Get in the car.”

“No.” Bucky grabs your arm tightly enough to drag you next to him but not tight enough to leave bruises. He’ll never mark you like that. “What about my car?”

“I’ll buy you a new one. Steve, Sam, clean this mess up.”

Bucky puts you in the back seat of the black SUV before he slides in next to you. He has mansions all over the country so instead of taking you back to New York, he’ll go to the one he has right here in California near your college.

You honestly didn’t think you’d ever go back to the one place you tried so hard to get away from.

Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

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johnwickb1tsch · 6 hours

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bittersweet ~ a yandere!John Wick x fem!reader sunshine/grump coffee shop AU... Part 33 all chapters

WARNING: NSFW, SEXUAL CONTENT, YANDERE SH!T. Plz take care. I luv u all. 😘

As it turns out, the Underworld provides a whole slew of services designed to deal with circumstances just like this. Medical care, emergency home repair–and body disposal, all for the price of a handful of gold coins.

You sit with John as a man your lover so descriptively calls Doc sews up Wick’s wounds. There is blood on your face, and your silk pjs. Dog sits on your foot, clearly anxious about letting either one of you out of his sight. In the same spirit, John’s good hand is clasped in yours, or yours in his–neither of you have been able to let go.

Another man known simply as Charlie orchestrates the removal of the collection of corpses through the house. Yet more tattooed tradesmen work on boarding up the blown out window in the kitchen with a big piece of plywood.

It’s a miracle, really, the house didn’t burn down.

“Thought you’d left all this behind you, John?” asks Doc, making a neat knot in the former assassin’s side.

“So did I.”

“What will you do?”

“The same thing I always do when I’m lost. Talk to Winston.”

The two men share a snort of laughter you don’t entirely understand.

When Doc finishes with John he gives you a bottle of pain meds, and a bottle of what are, as far as you can tell, pharmacy grade amphetamines. “In case he has to work again.” You take them with wide eyes and a nod, praying to whatever devil might be listening that that won’t be necessary.

You’re fairly certain that no one up above is interested in any of you anymore.

You killed a man.

You killed a man with a gun to save John, and you do not feel sorry at all.

Numb, perhaps, but not sorry.

John groans as he adjusts himself on the couch. You reach out to steady him, helping him best you can. He is heavy, and you look at the stairs with doubt. “Maybe we should sleep down here tonight?”

He blinks at you, undoubtedly thinking you incredibly naïve. “We can’t stay here, baby. It’s not safe.”

“Where will we go?”

“We’re going to the city,” says John, sounding weary as a man twice his age. “I know a place. Can you drive?”

You have to admit you’re a little dizzy from the whiplash. In the span of a few hours, you’ve gone from being locked up like a princess in the castle, to murdering a man, and now John is going to let you drive?

He must read the blatant surprise on your face. He doesn’t like it, his grip tightening on your hand. “These are bad, bad men who would eat you for breakfast. You’ve got to stick with me.”

You bristle at this, because even though you absolutely should be thinking about escape? You’re not. You were thinking about how you were going to manage taking care of him in this state, and it pisses you off that he’s still so fucking worried about controlling you that he can’t see the writing written in blood on the wall.

Or at least, written in blood, on the kitchen floor.

“You asshole,” you say for the second time tonight. It wins you a lordly scowl that for some fucked up reason thrills you to the tips of your toes. But it’s too late to turn back now. “Were you there, when I fucking shot a man for you? Maybe this is just business as usual for you, but it’s fucking new to me.”

He clenches his other fist on his knee, seeming to count to ten with his eyes closed. “I’m sorry,” he finally grinds out. “I know…Are you alright?”

You guess that you put up a good enough front that he forgot that maybe he should ask. Good on you. Maybe.

“No, not really,” you answer truthfully. “But I don’t have any choice, do I?”

He actually has the grace to cast his eyes down, seeming to really think on what you’re saying. “You had a choice,” he muses quietly, his thumb sliding over your knuckles. “In the kitchen.”

You stroke Dog’s head for something to do with your other hand, which is shaking. Your thundering heart beats painfully in your chest. From the corner of your eye you take in this anomaly of a man. This man, who kidnapped you, who has been playing mental games with you for months, who has kept you prisoner, who has taken your body to heights you never even knew were possible, who has spoiled you, who has adored you and degraded you all in the same breath–this man, who somehow, you know you love with your whole heart.

“John…” He tilts his head to look at you, his eyes glazed with pain. You’re not sure if it’s physical or mental at this point. “Did you really think I could shoot you?”

Perhaps he did, because in his mind, the only acceptable answer to a wrong against you is murder.

Perhaps in the brutal world he’s occupied since he was just a child, it is.

Suddenly he can’t meet your eyes. “Maybe I would deserve it, y/n.”

The fact that he knows that is definitely a good sign.

But the tricky truth is–it wasn’t all bad. And the good? The good was almost worth the bad, you dare to think now that you’ve survived it. You know better than to say that, because you know you are in the midst of a negotiation right now.

“I love our life together, when you’re sweet to me, John. I only want to murder you when you boss me around. And I only mean that figuratively.”

A huff of laughter escapes him; there is a glimmer of hope in his miserable dark eyes. You know it’s insane, after everything he’s done, but you feel sorry for this man.

“If you would just treat me as an equal, instead of constantly trying to control me…” I’ll be your ride or die. You can’t bring yourself to say it aloud yet. He already has enough power over you. “Do you think…that’s something we can work on?”

He could have pushed you over with a feather, when slowly he nods, bringing your knuckles to his lips to kiss them. “If you don’t want to murder me after everything I’ve done to you…maybe anything is possible.”

You on the other hand, can only blink. Did you just hear what you think you heard?

That blood-pressure induced ringing has returned to your ears again. The explosion and gunfire surely didn’t help, but somehow this is far more momentous to you. Your surprise for the magnitude of this admission surprises you, and you must show it in the lift of your brows. It makes him smile ruefully; you’re not sure why the sight of it squeezes your heart so.

You are not so stupid as to think this traumatic event has healed him miraculously, knocked some loose screw back into place. The mind doesn’t work like that. But just maybe, it did put some things into perspective. You are allies now against a mutual cause, rather than enemies of each other. And just maybe, when you tell him that you don’t want to leave him, he will actually believe you from now on.

“Anyway…I can drive the Rover…” you say with confidence, even though you are still utterly flabbergasted he’d even give you the opportunity. “I don’t know about the ‘Stang.” The Mustang you think you could manage in an emergency, but it’s been a long time since you had to drive a stick, and being responsible for his baby doesn’t sit well with you.

“That will do.” He grumbles, mostly to himself, “I’ve got to teach you to drive. There is so much I need to teach you.”

You’re not sure what he means by that. You are too tired to hash it out completely right now, but you sense that something, a whole lot of something, has changed in the past few hours between you.

He makes to get to his feet with a groan–and can’t quite. “Maybe I am too old for this shit,” he grouses.

“John, you got shot, stabbed, and fought off ten heavily armed assassins. I think you can count tonight as a win.”

Again, that bitter huff of laughter escapes him. You help John to his feet, trying to steady him as best you can. If he’d injured one of his legs badly you would be so fucked; there was no way you could carry him.

“Um…who were they?” You realize you haven’t even talked about who was just trying to kill him. You suppose you already think you know the answer, but then again you could be wrong.

“Camorra goons, I’m pretty sure,” hisses John, clearly in pain. “Guess I should have kept someone alive for questioning…I’ve always been bad at that.”

You press your lips, because it shouldn’t be funny…but if you don’t laugh about it, you might cry. Your life has been so weird lately, it almost just seems par for the course in a way.

“John…” you chortle and sigh. “Surely the d’Antonio kid gets the picture now? You’ve killed everyone he’s sent after you? Why can’t these assholes just leave you alone?” Why the prince of the Camorra would court such trouble is beyond you.

“Good question.” He groans as he takes a step, his good arm slung over your shoulder. “The young ones, especially the second or third generation, think they have to prove themselves. Or maybe…he loved his mother and wants me dead. It’s a faint possibility.”

“Italian boys and their mothers.”

John chuckles a little, then winces. “Please, sweetheart,” he entreats you. “Don’t make me laugh.”

Maybe you are a silly creature, but hearing the endearment for you warms something in your heart that had been left out in the cold for too long. “Fine,” you agree, even though humor is absolutely your biggest coping mechanism. “Tell me what we need to do next?”

“We need to pack.”

“Ok. What?”

“Suits, and guns.”

You guess in a nutshell, that was the essential distillation of his world, once upon a time. Now, quite against your will, you both are being kicked back into it. By the look in John’s dark eyes, for some reason you have a feeling it’s the Camorra who are going to regret it.

#john wick #john wick x reader #john wick x y/n #john wick x you #keanu reeves #john wick fic #keanu reeves x reader #yandere john wick #bittersweet john wick imagine

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wyniepooh · 5 hours

Text

Coach

patrick zweig has an interesting approach to coaching; it becomes even more interesting when it’s with you.

coach!patrick zweig x tennisplayer!reader. You desperately need a coach to help you, coach zweig seems to want something else 🤘🤘 (and you don’t mind ofc). Mentions of being broke #relatable. I imagine this to be set either before the challengers match, or after, either way works.

If it were up to you, you’d say that the place was a little sketchy.

if it were up to you, you would’ve left the moment you saw the lone beaten up car in the lot and the acrylic chipping off of the concrete ground.

But in the end, it really wasn’t up to you. The continuously decreasing numbers in your bank account was a constant taunt, a bullying reminder that if you wanted those numbers to change— to rise— you’d need a coach to push you into the championships.

Even if that coach choose a training spot that looked damn-near abandoned.

“hey. uh… patrick. patrick zweig,” he extended his arm.

You took his hand, giving it a firm squeeze as you dropped your bag onto the bench beside you. you smiled. “Shouldn’t I call you coach zweig?”

he smiled, chuckling at the ground, then shrugged, sticking his hands in his pockets. “whatever you want."

he cleared his throat, “so uh… what’s your plan here? I mean- what are your goals? why do you play tennis?”

You pulled out your racket and a couple of balls, setting them on the ground before quickly throwing your hair up into a ponytail. “Why are you coaching tennis?"

His arms crossed over his chest, and your eyes flickered to his biceps for a quick second before returning to his gaze. The silence was long, but surprisingly, it wasn’t uncomfortable or awkward like silence usually is. he smiled, and laughed again at your innuendo as he bent down and picked up your racket.

Grabbing the handle from his extended hand, you grinned. “That’s exactly my goal, too.”

You bounced the ball as you walked towards the court, closing your eyes for a moment to feel the sun on your skin. The sun was hot; burning, even, but the wind offered a cooling solace. His crisp voice snapped you back to reality.

“So, let’s see your serve.”

The next hour completely diminished whatever doubts you had about patrick zweig. Despite his rather tattered clothing that proved he was a low-ranking player with no sports sponsorships on his back, and despite his racket that seemed to be slightly crooked— he knew the fucking game.

And he also knew just how to provoke you.

“Is that all you’ve got?”

Hunched over the ground with your hands on your thighs and sweat dripping onto the green floor, you panted, “what?”

“You’re getting sloppy. Having stamina is crucial to the game, you know.”

You chuckled. “I can keep going. No problem.��

“Then prove it," he tossed you another ball, your slippery hand barely catching it in time, "come on, keep going."

Your next hit bounced off the net. Your next serve was out. After the ball attacked the net yet again, you threw your racket to the side, curses spilling out from under your breath.

“Thought you could keep going?”

“Give me a break," you muttered as you crouched down to stretch your legs that didn’t need stretching.

“No.”

you groaned. “come on, coach, I’m in a slump. Give me five and I’ll get back on it.”

“You don’t get to slack off in a real game. And based off of how gently you just threw your racket, you probably can’t afford to, either.”

Your body snapped up. “the fuck did you just say?”

He laughed lightly, raising his hands up by his head defensively as he walked closer towards you. You mirrored his movements, stepping closer until all that separated the two of you was the net, flowing freely with the wind.

“Look, all I'm just saying is, I don’t usually get many students signing up to experience my coaching. Not because I’m not good," he swatted his arm as he spoke, his other arm using his racket as a cane, "fuck no, but because my going rate is pretty low. the lowest, even. I’m just making an observation.”

You rolled your eyes, furrowing your brows slightly as you rested your hands on your hips. patrick had a grin about him, a stupid, annoying smirk that almost made you believe he knew something about you that even you, yourself, didn’t know.

Walking a couple steps closer to him until you felt the harsh scratch of the net against your knees, you whispered, “don’t assume anything about me.”

Your eyes subconsciously fluttered to his nose, then his lips, before coming back up to his eyes. smoothing out your brows, a layer of subtle desire spread behind your stare. you muttered, “Maybe I wanted you to coach me simply because I like you.”

His expression softened with feigned surprise. “Oh, do you now?” His face came closer to you.

you finally had an opportunity to ponder his face; his messy stubble all unkempt and long, the sweat on his forehead soaking his dark curls so perfectly on his face. or a moment, you weren't sure of where to go or what to do. In the end, he broke the stare-off with a murmur, “show me how much you like me, then.”

you didn't know if the heat spreading to your face was from the bright sun, his words, or from the blooming ache in your stomach. Either way, you stepped back with haste, grabbed another ball and prepared to serve.

A loud grunt came from you as you made your hit, and patrick reciprocated your energy, returning the ball with the same brutal force and speed.

Maybe he did poke at a sore wound. Yes, you were broke and young and desperate, but wasn’t he in the same situation? did he think you wouldn't notice the absolute state of the rented court and his shabby clothes?

But whatever it is that he did, it worked. Your feet were off the ground in an instant, and you heard the smack of the ball against the concrete before you even saw it. When you came back down, you immediately became aware of the sweat dripping down your face, your back, your legs, and the absolute relief of it all.

“There it is.”

You looked up. Patrick was smiling, widely, with that same old grin, like he was so proud that his trick had worked. as you began walking off the court, you couldn’t help but laugh, albeit dryly, at the whole situation. grabbing a towel from the bench and swinging it over your shoulder, you chimed,

“Hey, uh… coach, how much are you charging again?” you looked down at your feet, fidgeting nervously with your fingers as you mustered up all your strength to meet his eyes.

you tried to hide your shock when you finally turned your head to look at him, catching the sparkle of blue and a hint of something else in his eyes. he was standing close, really close, close enough for you to smell him and see him and practically feel him.

your eyes followed the movement of his arm as it reached towards your shoulder, his hand grasping one end of the towel and dabbing the fabric against your temple. he dropped the cloth, fingertips dancing over your cheek as he grazed a stray hair behind your ear. barely breathing a response,

“How much are you willing to give?”

a/n: I DO NOT PLAY TENNIS NOR DO I RLLY KNOW HOW IT WORKS. love the art appreciation but I feel like we need to step it up w the pat fics as well so I’m taking one for the team 🫡

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maximoffcarter · 3 days

Text

Switch.

Pairings: Casey Novak x Alex Cabot.

Summary: After having some control over Casey, Alex figures out that there is something that she'd like to try, something they had never talked about but her mind was now clouded with thoughts about it.

A/n: *coughs* So...here we are again. I uh...I don't think I have anything to say about this other than I'm...nervous about this one, I tried my best...you guys are insatiable and I love that. So, here is the smut you guys asked for. It's sort of a part 3 of 'Possessive little me', so let's hope you guys like this. A lil smut for the night🫢 If you got any more requests, please send them my way guys, either on my asks box or message me privately! Hope you guys enjoy this, leave comments, hearts, whatever you like and reblog so this gets some love🫶🏻

Part 1. | Part 2.

*not my gif.*

Alex chuckled softly as her eyes landed on Casey’s neck. “I sure hope makeup can cover up enough those marks. We wouldn’t want people to wonder what happened.” She raised her brow teasingly as she walked to unlock the door.

Casey sighed as she shook her head. “Can’t say I mind.” She smirked as she followed Alex.

To say that night had been eventful was an understatement. The next day Casey had put on as much make up as possible and even then, she felt the whole office staring at her, and not only that, but she had court most of the day so she would be running into probably two or three different judges, so she opted for a turtleneck shirt even if it wasn’t that cold. Alex teased her about it endlessly, asking in front of the squad why she had chosen a turtleneck on such a beautiful day and Casey would only stare at her with a defying look. And it wasn’t only the fact that Alex had left marks all over her body, but she was also so sore that she could barely stand in the uncomfortable heels, this little thing that had happened with Lake had given Alex everything to take control over Casey; and in all honesty, she was not complaining.

As in for Alex, after Casey had literally fallen asleep right after they were done, she stayed awake for a little longer, tracing patters in Casey’s naked back, smiling as she watched her sleep. Even after all these years, she was still surprised that someone like Casey would actually love her as much as Casey did. Alex knew Casey would do anything for her, she had her wrapped around her finger just like Casey had Alex wrapped around hers, she couldn’t be happier than she was. And thinking about the past events, she had to admit that she had surprised herself with how in control she had been, and most of all, that Casey had let her, giving up the idea that maybe after all, Casey liked the idea of Alex taking control of her at times, and Alex kept a note in her mind that she’d definitely do it more often.

A few weeks after that, they had both been loaded with cases, barely seeing each other during the day and too tired to do anything once they were home. But today, it seemed to be a calm day for Alex, and she took the opportunity to pay a visit to her girlfriend. She smiled softly as she stood at the door, finding Casey going through some files as she recited some words, most likely she was practicing either a closing or just the case. She knocked softly and her smile widened once green eyes found hers, that beautiful smile on her face as she stared at Alex.

“Hey. I thought I wouldn’t see you today either.” Casey smiled as she stood up, leaving the file on her desk.

Alex closed the door behind her and walked to Casey. “I finished some paperwork and don’t have to be in court yet, so I thought I’d at least see you and steal some kisses before I left.” She smiled softly as she wrapped her arms around Casey’s waist and pulled her against her body, leaning in and kissing her neck softly.

Casey bit her lip softly as she wrapped her arms around Alex’s neck. “You better not leave any marks there again, it was almost painful to have to wear turtlenecks for days.”

Alex chuckled softly as she looked up at Casey, biting her lip. “You should’ve shown them. You looked so hot with all those marks.”

“Oh, I’m sure you loved that.” Casey grinned as she leaned in and captured Alex’s lips in a slow kiss.

Alex sighed softly as her hand traveled up Casey’s back, pulling her impossibly close to her, moaning softly as Casey’s tongue grazed against her bottom lip and soon enough their tongues were fighting for dominance. They were really into the kiss that they didn’t notice the door opening, until they heard someone clearing their throat and both pulled apart, looking at the door and blushing hard as they found none other than Elizabeth Donelly.

“Do I need to give you two some rules? You didn’t have enough fun in high school?” Liz raised her brow as she walked to them, handing Casey a file. “So.” She smirked.

Alex furrowed her brows. “So…what?”

“I heard from a little bird that someone here is possessive. Are you possessive in bed too, Alex?” Liz smirked as she crossed her arms.

Alex blushed even harder as she stared at Liz. “I- uh…why would you-“

“No, I actually lead in bed.” Casey said casually as she looked into the file.

Alex turned to look at Casey and smacked her arm. “Casey!”

Casey chuckled softly as she looked up from the file. “Am I wrong?” She grinned.

“And who was in charge that one time here, huh?” Alex smirked.

Liz stared at the two of them, mouth agape. “I…” she sighed. “…can’t even say I’m surprised.” She shook her head. “But also…can’t say I’m surprised with this new discovery. Looks like what they said about you Casey is true.” She smirked playfully.

Casey turned to look at her confused. “What did they say?”

“Who’s they?” Alex furrowed her brows as she crossed her arms.

“That you’re such a…daddy.” Liz huffed a laugh as she gave Casey a teasing look.

“Daddy? The hell is that?” Casey laughed softly.

“Liz, who’s they?” Alex asked again, completely ignoring what she had said.

“Please, you’re gonna tell you’ve never heard of the term? C’mon, girls! I’m older than you and I already know it.”

“Wait…” Casey chuckled. “So…the kink. They think I’m daddy?” She laughed hard.

Alex still oblivious of the conversation, kept staring at Liz. “Who. Is. They?”

“They do. Heard it once or twice…they’re really into you, Casey.”

“That’s insane. I didn’t even know that was a thing for women.” Casey kept laughing.

“Right? But you’re it, Case. Own it.” Liz winked as she laughed with Casey.

“Who the fuck is they?!” Alex said as she frowned, looking between the two women.

Liz finally stared at Alex with a raised brow, a grin on her face. “The interns, Alexandra. And the squad has mentioned it too.” She huffed a chuckle. “I see why they say you’re all possessive.”

“Only if they knew that I am the daddy of the relationship.” Casey wrapped her arm around Alex’s waist and smirked, a playful stare on her face.

Alex exhales. “I swear you two…” she looked away as she tried to avoid them finding the redness in her cheeks. “You just fed her ego, thanks for that, Liz.” She shook her head as she looked at Casey.

“My pleasure.” Liz grinned as she walked to Casey, whispering in her ear but loud enough for Alex to hear. “Maybe you should give her some, so she calms down a bit, she looks like she needs it.” She smirked before she walked to the door and closes it.

“Jesus, Elizabeth!”

Casey laughs as she walked to the door and locked it, turning around to look at Alex. “I loved Liz’s idea.” She smirked playfully as she slowly walked to Alex.

“You’re insatiable. And a perv.” Alex shook her head as she stared into green eyes.

“You love it.” Casey said softly with a grin on her face, her hands going to Alex’s waist, pulling her impossibly closer to her body, leaning down and kissing Alex’s neck, earning a soft moan from Alex. “That’s what I thought.” She whispered softly as she nibbled and kissed on her pulse point.

“I have court in 15.” Alex breathed out as she bit her lip.

“Enough time for at least two rounds.” Casey smirked as she hopped Alex up in her desk, getting in between her legs.

Alex rolled her eyes playfully. “Cocky.” She grinned.

“What?” Casey laughed darkly. “My baby wants 3?” She raised her brow playfully, her voice huskier than usual.

“Shut up, Case.” Alex shook her head as she took her blazer off. “You have 14 minutes now. So shut up and fuck me.” She smirked.

“Yes, ma’am.” Casey knelt as she slipped her hands under Alex’s skirt to get to her underwear.

********************

After the cases that were given to Casey, Alex knew that Casey would be stuck in her office for at least another two to three hours, so she opted to go to the supermarket herself and get what they needed for the weekend. As she walked to the mall, she kept looking around at the stores and noted in her mind everything that she needed, and also her mind drifted from time to time to things that she didn’t need at all but still felt the need to buy. It wasn’t until her eyes landed on a particular store that it made her stop in her tracks; a sex shop. Her lips parting as her mind was clouded with not so innocent thoughts. For a moment she stopped and kept thinking if it was a good idea to go inside, she would only look and then leave, and she looked around as if someone was watching her. She then took a deep breath, and walked directly to the store, slowly walking in, and noticing that the store was almost empty, so she wouldn’t feel to embarrassed.

Her eyes wandered around the store, not even sure where she was supposed to go or what her eyes were looking for exactly. She started walking around the store; toys, clothes, lubes, cuffs, lingerie, there was so much that she felt a bit overwhelmed. They had never really talked about the use of toys or even to come to a store like this, they knew how to bring each other to their peak and that had been enough. But now, seeing all of these options, Alex couldn’t help but wonder if Casey would be up to use any of these things. Her eyes landed on a set of lingerie that she so wished that she could buy for Casey, they used these once in a while, to tease each other and it’d end up on the floor soon enough, and then her eyes landed on a particular item; a strap. She bit her lip as she looked at the variety of options and colors, for a moment her mind went to the wonderland and she pictured herself in it while Casey waited in bed for her, legs spread as she waited for Alex to-

“Hi, my name’s Rosie. Can I help you find anything in particular?” Rosie smiled softly.

Alex gulped as she looked at Rosie, suddenly feeling nervous. “I…uh…no. I mean…I’m just…looking.”

Rosie chuckled softly. “First time here?”

Alex huffed a chuckle. “That obvious?”

“No judging. It’s nice that people are opening up more to the idea of using toys and improve in their sex life.” Rosie grinned as she looked at the straps. “Those are good options. Personally…I’d go for that one.” She pointed to a purple one. “The harness won’t hurt you much around your hips, or your partners. It’s comfortable too.”

Alex felt her cheeks getting red as Rosie talked, her eyes on the toy as she bit her lip. “I’ve never…used any of these.”

“Well, people always go for the big things. They are eager. But personally, I’d go for that one. If you don’t actually want to use a strap, there are other options.”

Alex nodded as she gulped again. “I’ll…think about it.”

“You can find me if you do return.” Rosie smirked as she leaned closer. “I promise…you won’t regret it.” She then walked away from Alex.

Alex looked at the toy one last time before she turned and walked out of the store, walking to her destination. But now instead of focusing on the things she needed to buy, her mind was wandering again, and she couldn’t help but bit her lip and uncomfortably walk as she couldn’t stop the thoughts and images that appeared in her mind. She then made a note in her mind of bringing it up in a conversation.

********************

“Hey baby?”

Alex looked up from her laptop. “Yeah?”

“You forgot to buy some stuff for tomorrow’s dinner.” Casey said softly as she walked into the living room, raising her brow as she looked at Alex.

Alex sighed softly. “I’m sorry, I must have thought that I got everything, and I didn’t double check. I can buy them before I come home.”

Casey squinted her eyes as she looked at Alex. “You okay?” She walked to the couch and sat down beside Alex, leaning in to kiss her cheek.

Alex sighed again as she placed her laptop beside her, turning to look at Casey. “I might have been distracted when I went to the mall.” She bit her lip softly.

“Oh? By what?”

“Uh…” Alex looked down at her hands and fidgeting with her finger.

“I take it that it wasn’t by a piece of clothing.” Casey raised her brow. “C’mon baby, don’t get shy on me.”

“I went into a sex shop.” Alex snapped as she turned to look at Casey.

“Oh.”

“Exactly.”

Casey chuckled softly. “Why is that a bad thing? You saw something you liked?” She then paused. “Wait…you did. What was it?”

“Would you be up for toys? Like…I mean we use lingerie. But…we never talked about toys.”

Casey grinned. “I wouldn’t mind. If you’re up for it…I’m in.”

Alex smirked. “Really?”

Casey nodded. “Really.” She smiled softly and leaned in to peck her lips.

Alex bit her lip softly and leaned in this time to kiss Casey’s neck softly. “Good to know, I’ll keep that in mind.”

Casey bit her lip softly. “So, you not gonna tell me what you saw?”

Alex shook her head. “Nope. Not for now, at least.”

Casey rolled her eyes playfully. “Okay. Fair enough. Now, get your pretty ass up and let’s have dinner.” She stood up and extended her hand for Alex.

Casey was suddenly curious and got an idea of what it could possible be that Alex saw at the store, but she also knew that if she kept pushing, Alex would end up overthinking if it was a good idea, so she let the idea slip. They had never talked about using toys, which was true, Casey had always found some pleasure in using her mouth on Alex, and Alex was perfect with her fingers, and also her mouth; they both learned what they liked, and they learned how to please each other, so that was enough for them. But the idea of adding toys…any toys, it didn’t matter…she was excited about it.

********************

Casey closed the door behind her and literally kicked her heels off, along with her briefcase and her coat, not even caring where they landed. She walked around the apartment trying to find Alex, but the lights were out, except for their bedroom. Casey had told Alex that she’d be busy in court all day, and that she might get home a little late; it had seemed like Casey told Alex ‘baby, I’ll be all day in court, please send me teasing texts and don’t stop’. Casey’s phone was blasting with messages all day, no stopping. It was either messages or pictures that she accidentally opened during her short breaks. She didn’t blame her, Casey had done it before, Alex came back home and took her revenge, and now…it was Casey’s turn. Casey walked inside their bedroom and raised her brow as she found Alex in bed, a playful smirk on her face.

“Thought you’d be home late.” Alex smirked.

“I so happened to finish early.” Casey said in a low voice, almost whispering, taking in the appearance of Alex who had her robe on, and Casey was pretty sure that she either had a set of lingerie or she was completely naked.

Alex hummed. “Good for you.” She smirked. “Got my messages?”

“If this was your revenge…I can’t say I didn’t deserve it. But baby…” Casey exhaled. “…I almost got scolded by Petrovsky, I couldn’t take the images off my mind.” She wetted her lips as she stared into blue eyes.

Alex took off her glasses and placed them on the nightstand, crawling to where Casey stood at the end of the bed. “Oops?”

“Oops? Really?” Casey huffed a chuckle. “You got me all wet for the entire day.”

“Can I get a taste?” Alex smirked as she sat on her knees and pulled Casey’s by her pants, her hands going up Casey’s body.

“Wouldn’t you like that?” Casey smirked as her hands went to Alex’s middle, undoing the tie of the robe and opening it slowly, her eyes darting down, almost moaning at the sigh, her pupils dilatating. “I was hoping you’d use this one. You always look so hot in it.” She licked her lips slowly as she pushed the robe off her body.

“Thought you might like it.” Alex bit her lip as Casey’s hand landed on her hips, pulling Alex close to her body. She looked down and started unbuttoning Casey’s shirt slowly. “So…you didn’t answer me…can I get a taste?” She looked back up at Casey as she smirked, pushing the shirt down and throwing it to the floor.

Casey raised her brow as one of her hands traveled up Alex’s body, landing right between her boobs. “I first want to get a taste.” She grinned as her hands moved to Alex’s back to remove her bra slowly, throwing it to the floor and leaning down to move Alex’s hair back, kissing her bare shoulder.

Alex bit her lip as she tilted her head, giving Casey more access to kiss her. “Case…”

Casey grinned softly as she pulled away enough to get rid of her shirt. “Yes?”

“Just fuck me already.” Alex breathed out as she laid back down in bed, biting her lip as she stared at Casey.

Casey smirked and also got rid of her pants, staying only in her underwear as she crawled the bed, getting on top of Alex and leaning down to kiss her lips softly, but soon enough, the kiss became heated and messy. Alex’s hand moved to Casey’s hair and pulling her closer to her, her legs wrapping around Casey’s waist to pull her against her body and moaned when Casey started grinding on her. Casey’s tongue moved against Alex’s, both women enjoying every second of the kiss. Casey then pulled away and moved her lips down Alex’s jawline, kissing down her neck, licking and nibbling wherever her lips landed. Alex thrusted into Casey and moaned as Casey kept nibbling and licking on her neck, loving the feelings of her lips and tongue on her skin, the wetness between her legs growing even more.

Casey’s hand traveled down Alex’s body and played with the waistband, soon after moving right between Alex’s legs feeling the growing wet spot in her underwear and smirking as she licked her collarbone. “All this for me? Can’t wait to taste you.” She softly bit her shoulder, earning a whine mixed with a moan.

“Casey…I need you now.” Alex bit her lip softly as she looked at Casey.

“Getting there baby.” Casey returned to her lips and kissed her softly, her tongue diving into Alex’s mouth for a second before she pulled away and started kissing down her body.

Alex threw her head back as she felt Casey’s lips on her skin, stopping at her boobs to give her nipples some attention, licking and sucking while her hands worked on getting rid of Alex’s underwear. Casey looked down and smirked as she moved to completely remove it, throwing it to the floor. Her mouth watered at the sight of Alex completely naked, biting her lip at the sight of her glistening cunt. Casey returned her kisses to Alex’s body while her hands caressed her thighs, spreading her legs as she moved down. She kissed just above her clit and then moved to her thighs, giving open mouth kisses, looking up through her eyelashes to see Alex’s reaction. Casey softly bit the inside of her thigh and licking it to soothe the string as Alex groaned softly, her eyes never leaving Casey’s.

“Have I ever told you that I love the way you look like this?” Casey licked the inside of her thigh and smirked as Alex moaned softly.

“Case, please.” Alex moaned softly.

“As you wish, princess.” Casey smirked as she licked a stripe through her folds, earning a loud moan from Alex.

Alex’s hands went to Casey’s hair and pulled her closer, looking down at her and biting her lip, trying to swallow back her moans but her lips parting when Casey kept licking up and down. Casey attacked her pussy, moaning against it as Alex kept moaning her name and her grip on her hair tightened. Casey started teasing her entrance, spreading her wetness, making a mess in her lips. Soon after, her tongue slid inside her, making Alex grind her hips deeper, riding Casey’s face. The taste, the grinding, Alex’s moans, were literally making Casey feel hotter than she already was, her arms wrapping around Alex’s thighs to keep her in place.

It wasn’t long until Casey felt Alex’s grip tightening again, and that was when Casey slid in two fingers, making Alex’s back arche, moaning louder than before. Casey’s tongue spread more of her wetness until her tongue met Alex’s clit, wrapping her lips around it, and sucking it harshly as she kept pumping fast into Alex. Soon after, Alex pulled Casey impossibly closer to her, almost suffocating Casey as she kept her in place as she came, Casey helping her through it. Casey licked and swallowed every single drop, slowly taking her fingers out, she moved to kiss her thighs softly and then kissed her way up Alex who was a panting mess.

Casey grinned softly as she parted Alex’s lips with her soaked fingers, Alex wrapping her lips around it and sucking them clean, making Casey moan. “You were so good…so hot.” She smirked as she took them out and kissed Alex, their tongues dancing together.

Alex moaned against her lips and almost whined as Casey pulled away. She panted softly as Casey kissed her shoulder and then her neck, leaving soft kisses. Alex smiled softly. “I should tease you more often.” She chuckled.

“Only if you want to be punished next time. This time I was just eager to eat you out.” Casey grinned as she kissed Alex’s lips.

Alex moaned softly and then pulled away, biting her lip. “I got something.” She looked into green eyes nervously.

Casey raised her brow softly. “Oh?”

Alex took a deep breath and pushed Casey softly off her, getting up from the bed and looking into a bag that she left beside the bed. Casey furrowed her brows as she stared at every move that Alex made as she sat in bed, a little confused when she went into the bathroom. When Alex turned around, Casey’s lips parted in surprise, a gasp leaving her lips as she noticed the strap. Alex grinned softly at Casey’s reaction, thinking that maybe after all it hadn’t been a bad idea.

“I uh…I went back to the store today. I decided to buy it, but if you don’t want to try it, I completely-“

“I do.” Casey snapped.

Alex was a little taken aback by the quick response, staring at Casey as a grin appeared on her face. “You do?”

Casey looked up at Alex’s eyes, wetting her lips slowly as she nodded. “You know how hot you look? Like…you’re hot, always but…god, Alex. I want you to fuck me so badly.”

Alex smirked softly, tilting her head. “Get up…and take the rest of your clothes off.” Her voice suddenly became raspy as she stared at Casey.

Casey’s pupils dilated even more as she heard Alex, getting up and taking off her bra and underwear, never taking her eyes away from Alex. Alex slowly walking to bed and sitting down, leaning her back against the headboard, her eyes roaming down Casey’s body as she bit her lip. The idea of having total control, of Casey listening to her and obeying was driving her crazy. Casey finally crawled to bed and raised her brow curiously, wondering what was going to happen next, feeling her body shivering in anticipation.

Alex ran her fingers through Casey’s hair, her hand grabbing a handful of hair and pulling Casey’s face to her, making her gasp softly. “I want you to ride me.” She whispered softly as she kissed Casey’s lips.

Casey moaned softly against her lips and nodded, pulling away slowly. She moved slowly to Alex’s lap but was stopping by Alex’s hand on her hips, one of her hands moving between Casey’s hand, making her gasp softly and grind on Alex’s hand as she moved her fingers in Casey’s heat, spreading the wetness. Alex chuckled softly and leaned in to kiss Casey’s neck.

“All this for me? And I haven’t even touched you.” Alex whispered as she kissed her way up Casey’s ear, nibbling her earlobe. “I don’t even think we’ll need the lube.”

At her words, Casey moaned and threw her head back. “Please.” She breathed out softly.

“Please what, Case?” Alex grinned.

“Please…fuck me.” Casey looked down at Alex as she bit her lip.

Alex chuckled darkly as she nodded. “As you wish.” She whispered with a playful grin on her face, repeating Casey’s words from earlier.

Alex brought her fingers to her mouth and licked them clean before she grabbed the plastic cock and pulled Casey down, enough for Alex to start rubbing the toy in her wetness. Casey moaned a little louder as she felt the toy in her entrance, grinding her hips softly, making Alex chuckle darkly again as she saw how eager she was to have the toy inside her. Alex finally placed the toy in Casey’s entrance and started pulling her down, her lips parting at the sight of the toy disappearing, Casey throwing her head back and moaning loudly, her hands going to Alex’s shoulder to steady herself as she fully sat down in Alex’s lap.

“Good?” Alex asked softly as she looked up at Casey.

Casey nodded softly as she looked down at Alex, a whimper leaving her lips. “Yes.” She breathed out.

Alex nodded softly and started moving her hips up and down, Casey feeling the toy moving inside of her, Alex’s name leaving her mouth in whimpers as she started moving. Alex leaned in and started kissing Casey’s neck and nibbling, one of her hands going to Casey’s back to pull her close to her body. The sounds that left Casey’s mouth were music to her ears, feeling every thrust that Casey made only made her want more. At some point, Casey’s started moving at a certain rhythm that the end of the toy started hitting Alex’s clit, making her moan and gasp softly at the feeling. Alex’s lips wrapped around Casey’s nipple, sucking it softly and twirling her tongue around it, one of Casey’s hands going to Alex’s hair to pull her closer to her, turning her on even more at the feeling of her mouth on her.

“You’re doing so well, baby.” Alex’s voice became raspier, full of lust and need as she matched the pace of Casey’s thrusts.

Casey moaned louder and tightened her grip on both Alex’s hair and shoulder. “Alex…I-I’m gonna…” her breath became heavy as she spoke, unable to finish her sentence.

Alex nibbled on Casey’s neck, her arm wrapping around Casey’s waist to hold her in place as they both thrusted their hips. “Come for me, my love…” She breathed out as she felt herself closer too.

Casey leaned her head down to kiss Alex, the kiss was messy and sloppy as they both moaned, coming together in synchrony, breathing heavily against each other’s lips. Casey wrapped her arms around Alex’s shoulders to pulled her close to her, her chest rising up and down as she tried to catch her breath, her whole body shivering as she came down from her orgasm, Alex still moved slowly to help Casey ride down her orgasm. She huffed a chuckle as she looked into green eyes, one of her hands going to Casey’s face to move some of the hairs that were sticking to her sweaty forehead, softly caressing her cheek as she pulled her down to kiss her lips softly.

“Such a good girl.” Alex smirked as she kissed her jaw and down her neck.

Casey panted as she looked at Alex. “That was…good choice.” She huffed a laugh as she placed her hands on Alex’s neck to bring their lips back together.

Alex bit her lip. “I think you have one more in you.” She whispered softly.

Casey’s heart skipped a beat as she looked into ocean blue eyes, a grin forming in her face. “Maybe so.” She bit her lip.

Alex smirked and in a quick move, she had Casey lying down in bed and Alex was now on top of her. She leaned down to kiss her lips passionately, swiping her tongue against Casey’s bottom lip, Casey rapidly giving her access and moaning as their tongues brushed against each other’s. When air became an issue, they pulled away and Alex’s lips soon found Casey’s neck, licking her way down until she got to her collarbone. She pulled away enough to look down at the toy, rubbing it against Casey’s pussy in a slow motion, soon after, she inched it slowly into Casey, grinning softly as Casey’s mouth fell open and a loud moan came out of her.

Alex started moving her hips slowly at first creating a steady rhythm and with each thrust, Casey moaned even more, pulling Alex down to kiss her again. The kiss was once again messy, Alex swallowing Casey’s moans as she moved faster, Casey could feel her walls clenching around the toy as Alex thrusted deeper, soon finding her g-spot. Casey gasped loudly as her nails slowly scratching their way down Alex’s back.

“A-Alex…oh god…I’m gonna…I’m so c-close…” Casey moaned as she wrapped her legs around Alex’s waist.

“Go ahead, baby. I wanna hear you.” Alex kissed her way down Casey’s neck and bit in between her neck and shoulder.

“Fuck!” Casey moaned loudly as she felt once again her orgasm hitting, trying to keep Alex in place.

Alex moved slowly to help Casey ride down her second orgasm, peppering her neck with kisses, licking the bite that she had just made. She moved up to kiss her cheek and then her lips softly. She smiled softly as Casey breathed heavily, kissing her nose and her sweaty forehead. Casey opened her eyes to look up at Alex, panting softly as her hand went to Alex’s cheek, moving her hair away and bringing her down for a kiss. Their lips moved slowly against each other, the kiss being tender and full of love.

Alex smiled softly. “You okay?”

Casey nodded softly as she smiled, still panting. “I am…just…don’t move yet.” She huffed a chuckle. “Feels nice.”

Alex grinned softly as she kissed her nose. “Tell me when.”

They stayed like that for a few more minutes until Casey told Alex that it was okay to move, groaning softly as she lost the feeling of the toy inside her. Alex took off the harness and placed it on the night stand, thinking that she’d take care of it later. She moved to the empty side of the bed and pulled Casey to her, wrapping her arms around her as she kissed her head softly, Casey sighing happily as she laid her hand on Alex’s chest, but not before she kissed her neck softly.

Alex smirked as she chuckled. “So…who’s the daddy now?”

Casey slapped Alex’s arm as she laughed. “Fuck you.” She said between laughs.

“Oh, you wanna go for a third round? Insatiable, baby.” Alex playfully said as she laughed.

Casey shook her head as she looked up at Alex. “That was great. But you gotta let me rest, Cabot.” She then nibbled on her lip as her hand caressed Alex’s chest. “I also wanna try it.” She smirked.

“You’ll have your turn.” Alex chuckled as she leaned down to kiss her lips softly.

#casey novak x alex cabot #casey novak #alex cabot #alexandra cabot #calex #casey novak fic #alex cabot fic #svu fic #law and order svu #svu #calex smut

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thedemigodsguide · 9 hours

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What do you think of Mr. D as a dad?

🤫 Okay, don’t tell Mr. D I said this, but he’s actually a great dad!

A while ago, I was talking with Pollux and he said that Mr. D goes and picks up all of his kids personally. First off, 👏👏👏 Let me give him a round of applause, because that’s more than just about any other god or goddess does (yes, I am aware there are sometimes situations out of their control).

And I used to see Pollux and Castor hanging out with Mr. D sometimes. Usually, it would be in the Big House, but sometimes I saw them out in the strawberry fields or at the beach. I’ve even seen Mr. D genuinely smile around them. And when they’re around Mr. D, they always seem comfortable compared to other demigods with their parents.

Mr. D tried to hide it, but he took it really hard when Castor almost died.

For those of you who don’t know, Mr. D used to be a demigod, like us. I’ll spare you the details for now, but eventually, he was granted immortality, became an Olympian god, so on and so forth. Fast forward a couple millennia, and he ends up here at Camp Half-Blood as a punishment from Zeus.

Camp Half-Blood is supposed to be a punishment. He’s not supposed to like it here. And I’m pretty sure that for a while, Mr. D really was angry about it. But he’s spent years here, and has seen all the stuff we go through. And like I said earlier, Mr. D used to be a demigod, too. He’s been through a lot of the same crap we have.

So, yeah. He cares about us, but he can’t let people know. Sometimes that even includes himself. Like all those times he gets names wrong. Plus, he’s the god of mental health/illness. He understands how parenting (or lack of) can affect kids.

Ultimately, because of his background, I think Mr. D is actually the best dad out of the gods, both to his own kids and to the campers.

Thanks for reading!

If you have any other questions for me or anyone else at either camp, just drop it in the Q&A! And you if have any suggestions for a better name for the ask box, feel free to drop that, too!

–Kally

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aphroditestummyrolls · 1 year

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I’m having A Time™️

#the real recovery is recovering from whatever grad school did to me #tw eating disorder #tw anorexia #tw body horror #tw identity crisis #like I am fine when I have a distraction but when one thing sets me off I start fucking grieving my entire life #like #shame is my emotional constant that is the baseline I feel like a failure all of the time what am I supposed to do about that???#the endless push and pull of ‘I should be better to myself I should treat myself with the same grace I give others’ and #‘if I do not lose 20 lbs in the next week and go home with actual plans for my life’ is just really fucking tiring #but I can’t seem to let go of either of them #and i want to peel myself open and power wash my viscera until I’m small and clean and I don’t really know what that means but I hate who I #I am so grateful for everything I have and everyone that still chooses to be around me #but I just can’t stop cycling through these fucking THOUGHTS AGAIN AND AGAIN

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deus-ex-mona · 5 months

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rage is a ✨way of life✨

#found out that i successfully angered someone by not showing up to work on saturday lmaoooooo #and im just like… gOOOOOOD. BE MAD!!!!!!!!!!!!#mans has no room to be mad anyway. it’s his fault i had to ot for 7 hours to cover his work for him in the first place soooooooo #a nd he’s getting demoted next year and im ahauxucjsjjsjsjsjxjdhss #in other news im kinda annoyed by my mother’s (unfortunate) pressuring of me to go to the upcoming family christmas gathering :(#like no way manssssss i haven’t seen the extended fam since my grandma’s funeral and i’d like to keep it that way thanks~~~~~~~~#and a c h r i s t m a s gathering of all places… m a n. im half expecting them to drag everyone to church to end off the gathering…#i wouldn’t put it past the hosting aunt to do that ngl. she had tricked me into attending a church service in the past and all…#like. man. there’s this local mall that has a similar name to said church service…#so ofc it’s normal to assume that said mall is what she was referring to when she said ‘let’s go to [insert name]!’ with no context right???#and uggshdhdjjsjsjdjs i don’t wanna be introduced to my cousins’ kids as ‘auntie [insert nickname i hate]’ bc that’s lame #and m a n. i definitely don’t wanna interact with my cousins’ kids. i either don’t know or can’t pronounce (or both) their names #i only remember the oldest one’s name (bc he has a stereotypical frat boy name) and the one who’s named after a ninja turtle #but none of the rest. i think some of them have names from my cousins’ spouses’ home countries? dk about the others though #i’m 80% sure one of the girls was named something like ‘triceratops’ but that doesn’t seem right…#being named after a dinosaur sounds cool though… or any prehistoric creature really #if i could choose my own name i’d like it to be ‘coelacanth’#just so i can say ‘i coelacan’t do it!!!!!’ if someone asked me to do something i don’t wanna do. the pun potentials are endless mans #huh. wow… i started this off with a mad coworker and ended it by turning into a coelacanth… how did we get here anyway…?#oh wells no one reads the tags anyway uehxudjdjdjsjsjss my secrets are ✨safe✨

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titsthedamnseason · 1 year

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the set up for the atlas complex was just too incredible because i’m so intrigued by this notion that if they don’t do the sacrifice / initiation properly the initiates will start to die unless they stay close to the archives and my prediction is that our fav six medians are going to kill the archives 🤠

#the way i see it even though libby may seem like the obvious choice for a kill no one is going to go for that #and callum is the natural choice but after the mess that already went down there i can’t see him letting that slide ever again #i feel like he would suggest reina because a) he is a swine that knows no loyalty and b) he seems genuinely and rightly concerned about her #emerging god complex #but truthfully i don’t think any of them would want to kill another and while it would be a baller move #i don’t think olivie blake wants to kill any of the six either #and also since we’re toying with the idea that the society is the bad place (although so is the forum lbr)#i feel like libby rhodes should just get to nuke the library 👍#the atlas six #the atlas paradox spoilers #mine

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cherrysnax · 2 years

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#how do I make the self loathing n depression stop. i feel like I’m drowning n like I’m pulling my loved ones down with me #I’m trying really hard to be a person but it feels like ky progress is gone. i have a hard time standing up for too long so it’s rlly hard #cooking for myself even though one of my goals was to cook more. i keep forgetting what day/month it is #i feel like I’m so far away and everyone is just . millions of miles away from me #i just. want living to not feel like a chore. i have so many things I look foreword to #n I don’t want to quit on myself #and part of me thinks it’s the stress from our constantly sinking money sitch due to comic deadlines — that are only here to help motivate #the world won’t end if we don’t make them. i think that’s something we forget #but yeah I’m worried abt my mom and my health is declining I’m always dizzy and forgetful b I have problems holding convos #and I’m tired all the time and my libido is gone and it’s either my depression or my antidepressants but I’m worried abt it #idk what if I’m dying. my family can’t afford me dying. and I don’t want to cut a life short that has so much potential #but golly gee has my mental health not gotten the memo. i wanna do things for the ones I love but mh body seems to be shutting down #i want to be a good friend or lover or child or adult but I mostly feel like I’m stuck a few years back #but I will be okay. i will learn how to navigate my newfound issues. make sure to go outside despite my general adversion to it #learn to let myself feel freely about the present. while also think past tommorow uh positively #if I give up on myself what more do I have?

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bootleg-nessie · 6 months

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Rating band names based on their accuracy:

(I keep updating this list so check back later)

The Beatles: 3/10. None of these people are beetles, they’re just a bunch of fruity guys from Liverpool with matching haircuts

(Edit: changed from 0/10 to 3/10 because John Lennon beat his wife)

Pink Floyd: 4/10. There is not a single person named Floyd in the band, but some of the members do arguably look kinda pink

Nirvana: 10/10. Getting high and listening to Nirvana is roughly what I imagine actual nirvana to be like

Foo Fighters: either 0/10 or 10/10. I have never seen foo in real life so either they’re pretending to fight a problem that doesn’t exist or they’re doing an absolutely fantastic job of fighting it

The Eagles: 0/10. Same as the Beatles, there is not a single eagle in this band. The name is misleading and we have all been lied to

Queen: 6/10. Partial points for Freddie Mercury

Led Zeppelin: 0/10. I don’t think any of these guys have ever even seen a zeppelin, let alone one made of lead. A lead balloon would crash faster than my hopes and dreams

The Rolling Stones: 3/10. There is not a single stone in this band. Some points added because I’m pretty sure they rolled quite a few

U2: 0/10. Despite what the name says, I am not a member of this band

Metallica: 9/10. Naming a metal band “Metallica” is like naming your dog “doggy”

Red Hot Chili Peppers: 2/10. These guys are not chili peppers. They’re not even that hot, let alone red hot

Guns N’ Roses: 0/10. How the fuck could a gun or a flower play music

Backstreet Boys: ?/10. Depends entirely on their current given location

Simon and Garfunkel: 10/10. No notes

The Doors: 1/10. Jim Morrison is kinda shaped like a door tho

Chicago: 4/10. The number of people in this band does not come even remotely close to the population of Chicago. Points added because it originated in Chicago

Earth, wind, and fire: 2/10. This is even more innacurate than Chicago. Points added because wind instruments were often used

Def Leppard: 3/10. There is not a single leopard in this band. Some of the members are probably kinda deaf by now tho

The Beach Boys: ?/10. Accuracy depends entirely on location

The Black Eyed Peas: 6/10. Not sure what the hell an ‘eyed pea’ is but the black part is pretty accurate

Imagine Dragons: ?/10. Depends entirely on whether or not they’re thinking about dragons.

Cage the Elephant: 1/10. Why would you do that. Let the elephant go

Green Day: 0/10. They’re not even green

The Police: 0/10. There is not a single cop in this band

KISS: 5/10. I’m sure they probably kissed sometimes

The Monkees: 0/10. Are you fucking kidding me

We Butter the Bread with Butter: 8/10. I can’t verify this but I have no reason to suspect that they’d lie. Butter seems like the most logical thing to butter bread with

King Gizzard and the Lizard Wizard: 0/10. I got really excited about the concept of a lizard wizard only to be let down. My disappointment is immeasurable

They Might Be Giants: 5/10. I googled everyone in this band’s height, the tallest guy’s only 6’1 so I wouldn’t exactly consider him a giant. Then again, I can’t really argue because the claim was only that they MIGHT be giants

The Presidents of the United States of America: 2/10. None of these people are Joe Biden nor are any of them former presidents. This is incredibly misleading. I’m pretty sure “Lump” was written about my first girlfriend tho so I’ll give them a point or two

Gorillaz: 2/10 Not quite but we’re kinda close genetically so I’ll give them partial credit

The Killers: ?/10. I have no way of verifying if they’ve actually killed before but the fact that they’re not in prison tells me probably not

The Offspring: 10/10. These guys are definitely somebody’s offspring

Arctic Monkeys: 1/10. They are neither monkeys nor are they from the arctic

Thirty Seconds to Mars: 1/10. It takes WAY longer to get to mars than that

Beastie Boys: 8/10. They’re pretty beast on the guitar

Jimmy Eat World: 1/10. Slow the fuck down Jimmy, you’re biting off way more than you can chew

Hole: 9/10. One point deducted because I’m pretty sure they had more than one hole

Rage Against the Machine: 10/10. They did exactly that

Alice In Chains: 0/10. This is illegal. Let Alice go

The Band: 10/10. This could not possibly be more accurate

Nine Inch Nails: 1/10. I can’t find any good pictures of their feet but from what I can tell their fingernails definitely aren’t nine inches long

Bush: ?/10. Not quite sure about this one, felt uncomfortable asking

The Who: 2/10. I’m not dealing with this “Who’s On First” bullshit

Radiohead: 0/10. Not a single person in this band has a radio for a head

Queens of the Stone Age: 0/10. This band should be called “five random dudes from the modern era” but FRDFTMA is a bit of a mouthful

Soundgarden: 2/10. Sound does not grow in the garden

Sonic Youth: 5/10. They’re not exactly youth anymore but the sonic part checks out

Talking heads: 8/10. There’s more to the band than just a bunch of disembodied heads but the heads do tend to talk

The Cranberries: 0/10. Decent music but I only added them so that the Beatles and Freddie Mercury weren’t the only fruits on this list

The Wiggles: 8/10. They do tend to wiggle a lot

Blue Man Group: 10/10. Yep!

Weezer: 5/10. They all look like they definitely have asthma

Limp Bizkit: 3/10. While the visual image of baked goods playing the guitar is hilarious, Fred durst is not a biscuit. Points added because he probably has erectile dysfunction

Stone Temple Pilots: 0/10. None of these people are accredited as being licensed to pilot anything, much less an entire stone temple. Stone temples don’t need pilots anyways

Wasted Youth: 8/10. I guess it really kinda depends on how you frame it but yeah, they probably wasted a lot of it

Them Crooked Vultures: 3/10. These are people and not birds but Dave Grohl’s posture is kinda bad and John Paul Jones is so old that his neck kinda looks like a vulture’s so I added some points

Audioslave: 0/10. Slavery is illegal

Traveling Wilburys: 4/10. Sure, they traveled a lot but not a single one of those lying bastards was named Wilbury

D12: 6/12. There were only 6 people in this band

NWA: 10/10. I’m a little too white to safely comment on this one but I’d say they nailed it

Jet: 1/10. A real jet would be way too loud

Goldfinger: 0/10. Not a single person in this band has a finger made out of gold

No Doubt: ?/10. I can’t really be too sure how Gwen Stefani felt but I think it’s probably a safe assumption that she had some doubts

The White Stripes: 3/10. I bet if you stripped them down naked and made them stand shoulder to shoulder and squinted really hard they’d probably look more like white stripes

Screaming trees: 3/10. They scream occasionally

Garbage: 2/10. I think they’re being a little harsh on themselves, their music isn’t THAT bad

Butthole Surfers: 5/10. Not even gonna touch this one

Megadeth: 3/10. To be fair, some of the former members are dead but only a little amount of death, not mega death

Dead Kennedys: 2/10. Last I checked Kennedy was still dead but neither he nor his clones are members of this band

Cake: 0/10. The cake is a lie

Cracker: 8/10. Most of them are

Tool: 7/10. I don’t know much about their music but they sure look like tools

Counting Crows: ?/10. Is this what emo kids do instead of counting sheep? Accuracy depends on whatever bird they happen to be counting at the moment

Dave Matthews Band: 10/10. It certainly is

Oasis: 1/10. Their music is the opposite of an oasis

Blur: 2/10. They are not that fast

Barenaked Ladies: 0/10. If I wanted to be this disappointed I’d reestablish a connection with my biological father instead

Meat Puppets: 10/10. Technically, aren’t we all?

Live: 8/10. Apparently they still do live shows but I deducted some points because I’ve only ever heard their music on Spotify

ABBA: 9/10. I’m still not giving any points to Guns N’ Roses but that’s mostly out of spite

5 Finger Death Punch: 8/10 I guess it probably depends on how hard you hit them but this seems to be the usual amount of fingers to punch somebody with

All American Rejects: 9/10. They’re all rejects from America so I don’t really see any issue with this

T. Rex: 0/10. Even if any of these people WAS a T. Rex I don’t think their arms would be long enough to play their instruments

Free: 0/10. Unless you steal their music, in which case it becomes a 10/10

The Strokes: 3/10. To my knowledge, none of them have had a stroke but I still added a few points because the name was probably accurate for other reasons

The Smashing Pumpkins ?/10. Another thing I have no way of verifying but this seems like a waste of perfectly good pumpkins

Therapy?: ?/10. The hell are they asking me for? I don’t know their medical history

Twenty One Pilots. 0/10. There’s only two of them and neither is a licensed pilot

Finger Eleven: 0/10. Leave the poor Stranger Things girl out of this

Fall Out Boy: 9/10. I conferred with an expert on this one who confirmed that they are in fact boys who had a falling out

Cream: 8/10. Considering this was the OG supergroup I’m sure a lot of people did in fact cream when their music came out

Edit: humans aren’t fucking monkeys. Stop saying we are

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