#instead of doing crash diets

[sapphos-tooth]

tryin to see if can start going to a dietitian

#.txt #tw weight mention #maybe they can suggest a safe way to lose weight #that isn’t overwhelming or too restrictive #been struggling with B.E.D for too long #and having pain from walking a lot #it’s not just my bad posture which im trying to fix #my weight gain is also could be from my bipolar meds and antidepressants #because once i started seroquel i gained like 100lbs in like 2-3 years #i just like to find a way of being healthy #instead of doing crash diets #my eating habits aren’t the best and same with exercise #hopefully they can offer how i can change them #without it being extreme #because im an all or nothing person unfortunately #which im trying not to be #but it’s hard #if things don’t go my way instantly…then i try to quit #also shout-out to my mom for calling #because i have anxiety and she’s better at asking questions and getting info than me

[delirious-donna]

A Kiss But At What Cost? [Part Seven]

story summary: Your best friend lets you crash at her place over the spring break since you have nowhere else to go. Little did you know that it isn't actually her place. Instead, it belongs to a tall (grumpy) hot guy who finds you in his apartment–her brother.

chapter summary: The time calls for a movie night and one you’ll be sure to rope Kento into. A good old-fashioned slasher movie sounds just right, but how will the end of the night go once you’re all spooked out?

pairing: Nanami Kento x female reader

warnings: SFW, fluff, two oblivious idiots, yet more emotions, bad communication, mentions of horror movies and tropes, if you can tell me what the movie at the end is you get a gold star

Part Six | Series Masterlist | Part Eight

Popcorn? Check. Cozy blanket? Acquired.

“Hm…” You hummed quietly, turning on the spot in the living room. The lights were set low, the thickest of the blankets from the basket in the corner ready for you to crawl beneath for your movie night, but something was missing.

A drink, of course.

Padding back into the kitchen, you bent your head to investigate the contents of the fridge, debating on a Diet Coke or a beer. The noise of someone clearing their throat made you jump, bumping your head into the door of the fridge in the action of whirling around.

“Ouch!”

Kento winced before quickly schooling his features into neutrality. You turned with a frown etched on your brow, and he couldn’t blame you for it this time. Moving forward, he stood by your side to reach inside and a grab out a bottle of beer, popping the top easily.

Your scowl deepened, more annoyed at the flutter in your stomach at his ease of opening the beer without even looking at the damn thing. “Aren’t you going to apologise?”

“Sorry,” he said with a shrug. “I didn’t think you’d still be so jumpy this far into our little arrangement.” He lifted the bottle to his lips and took a quick sip, eyes moving to the ceiling which presented you with the open opportunity to watch whilst his throat worked to swallow the frothy liquid, his Adam’s apple bobbing deliciously.

“Yeah yeah, whatever.”

A thought leapt from the recesses of your brain, and your pout turned into a wicked smile before he could blink. How would mr ‘stick-in-the-mud’ cope with a couple of scary movies? It would be beyond hilarious if he turned out to be a scaredy cat given his imposing stature and presence, and the chance to find out was too delicious to pass up.

“Got plans this evening?” you asked with an expression you hoped looked nonchalant. Before he could answer, you pulled out a can of Diet Coke and cracked open the ring pull with a low hiss.

“None to speak of. Why?”

Your hand linked through his arm with a wide grin, pulling him away from the kitchen to the cozy little nook you’d crafted for your movie spree. You gestured towards it with a theatrical “ta dah” and glanced up to meet eyes of hazel alight with confusion and a hint of intrigue, if you weren’t much mistaken.

“What’s this? You’ve made a… nest on my couch,” Kento guessed, scanning the bowl of popcorn and bar of unopened chocolate resting on the faraway arm. He wasn’t so stupid not to realise that this was clearly a movie night, but he was doing his damnedest not to think too much about your hand curled around his bicep. One wrong move and you might take that touch away, and he didn’t want that, not yet.

“Wow. Don’t tell me you didn’t watch movies with Karin growing up, because I know it’ll be a lie. That girl is more of a film buff than I am, no way you escaped that.”

Kento scoffed. “You’re correct. I did not escape, though there were many times I sorely wish I had. If I have to watch When Harry met Sally one more time, I might do something drastic,” he admitted with a laugh.

“Not a fan of romcoms, Nanami?”

“I didn’t say that, and it’s Kento, stop changing it back. There are a few that I can…” He paused, searching for the right word. “Tolerate, I guess.”

Your eyebrows rose in clear curiosity. Slipping your hand out of his arm, you rounded the couch and settled next to your snacks to pat the seat next to you in invitation. Kento swallowed, a wash of heat licking up both sides of his neck and he fought the urge to pull at the neck of his sweater.

“I don’t have any romcoms on the menu for tonight, sadly…” You added just to see his eyes narrow and his lips thin in displeasure. “Come join me, please? I’ll even share my popcorn.”

A moment passed where you simply stared at one another, your heart in your throat at the thought of being rejected, but it didn’t come to pass. Kento took another swig of beer and made his way to you, sinking into the couch with a sigh of resignation that didn’t sound genuine at all. You hid your smile behind the can in your hand, twisting to look at him and meeting determined eyes.

Kento crossed an ankle over his knee, settling against the cushions. “I’ll pass on the popcorn, too noisy,” he teased, smirking when you blew a raspberry in his direction. “So, if it’s not lovey-dovey nonsense, what are we watching?”

He should have taken the wide, almost twisted grin as a hint, but once again he was oblivious to your devious ways. What a fool he was. Except, in the long run, you were the one who would have something to worry about…

~

A piercing scream tore through the sound system, followed immediately by one of your own, although thankfully not as loud. You pulled the blanket to your face, covering your eyes from the gore feast on the screen. It didn’t help that you could hear Kento chuckling by your side. So much for the idea that he might be the one taking the starring role as scream queen… dammit.

The first movie had been a classic, one you had both seen before and it was nice to be able to laugh along with your handsome companion at the overused tropes featured in many of the slasher movies from the eighties and nineties. Groaning almost in sync when the lead female chose to run deeper into the house than take the open door that led outside and booing when the killer miraculously managed to traverse the same distance as the comic relief sidekick without even breaking into a light jog.

It gave you time to indulge in conversation as well as keeping pace with the plot. You shoved him playfully when he refused to indulge your curiosities as to which, in his words, lovey-dovey movies he enjoyed. Not even your best pleading puppy eyes could get him to relent, the curl of his lips so telling of his enjoyment at your frustration.

However, he did share some juicy tidbits about his sister that you were sure to tuck away and use to embarrass Karin at a later date. She more than deserved it given that other than one short and snappy text message, you hadn’t heard from her in all the time you had been staying here. Some friend. The bluster was all feigned when you examined it, and you refused to dig any deeper.

Karin and Kento were so different you would have never guessed they were related, yet you liked them for completely different reasons. You wondered if you would keep in touch once… no, it couldn’t be like that, and you knew it deep down. This was a temporary situation that would be forgotten soon enough, you lied to yourself with a long swallow of your drink. It wasn’t worth ruining the evening by moping. Deciding it was for the best, regardless of what your heart tried to yell, you forced the feelings into a box and refocused on the here and now.

It warmed your heart to watch as Kento slowly relaxed further, his limbs losing the tension from when he first joined you, an arm draped along the back of the couch and his beer balanced on his thigh, hand loose around the glass bottle dripping in condensation. He was pretty funny when he wanted to be, making you nearly choke on your drink several times over when he offered his bitingly sarcastic commentary on the situation on screen. At times you thought his ears even looked a little red, but you couldn’t be sure given the lack of lighting. If it was true, then it was adorable that he got enjoyment from your genuine reactions to his jokes.

With the second movie fast approaching the climax of the horror, you regretted the decision to ramp things up. Most of the movie you had spent tucked tightly beneath the blanket covering your lap, squeaking at every little jump scare and even more so when Kento moved unsuspectedly. All of it was ammunition to the laughter Kento levelled at your expense, and more than once you reached out to smack at his arm with him feigning noises of hurt when you knew very well it was the lightest of touches.

Oh, he was a menace alright.

Kento, not for the first time during your stay, felt like he hadn’t had this much fun in a long time. He watched your bravado disappear in the face of a movie you weren’t familiar with, and tried not to think too deeply when he felt the desire to pull you into the side of his body. It wasn’t worth the headache. His beer was long finished, and his hands felt too empty, fingers twitching against his thigh and pinching at the stitched seam of the couch to distract himself from what he knew would be inappropriate thoughts. He would not sully this evening with his own selfish desires.

You shrieked once more when the villain popped out unexpectedly, however, this time you lunged sideways and buried your face into his arm that lay between you both. He nearly yelped himself, barely holding back the strangle of surprise when your nose rubbed into his bicep and your small fingers curled around his forearm. His heart rested in his throat, glancing down with wide eyes and almost missing when you spoke in a hushed whisper.

“Tell me when this bit is over.”

Tentatively, he lifted his arm and your hold tightened as if he were trying to shake you off. Kento murmured a gruff affirmation and refocused on the TV. You dared to lift your chin, blinking at his unwavering expression fixed straight ahead whilst he settled his arm around your shoulders and gently drew you closer. His jaw clenched, and you nearly backed away despite your heart hammering in your chest from the movie playing, but when his fingertips rubbed gently against your upper arm… it was game over.

You melted into his side, inhaling the scent of his expensive cologne surreptitiously and smiling into the soft knit of his sweater at the lingering aroma of coffee that infused his clothes. Clearly, he was a man that ran hot given the output he was currently kicking out and the longer you remained in this position, the less you felt like the blanket was necessary. It was far from unpleasant, in fact, you longed to wrap yourself in his warmth. Who needed a blanket when you could have him instead?

Closing your eyes, you smiled indulgently, knowing it would be hidden from view. This was nice—more than nice—it felt right. Like you belonged here, and you should make up for lost time by refusing to move when he inevitably tried to pry you off.

The moment didn’t come.

At last, when Kento signalled that you could look again, he didn’t make any move to shove you back to your corner of the couch as you had assumed he would. No, instead, he slouched deeper into the seat and rested his cheek atop your head like a boyfriend or a lover might do. It was comfortable, welcoming after all that had transpired in such a short space of time and honestly, you wished you had the courage to fist the front of his sweater and drag him into the desperate kiss you longed to bestow on his lips.

The walls that both you and Kento had built around yourselves were beginning to crumble like sandcastles being washed away by an approaching tide. The water was unstoppable, or so it seemed and the air in the room felt charged with possibilities.

The credits rolled and neither of you made a move. Kento held himself back for fear of something he couldn’t define, and you lacked the courage to be the first to act after the incident in the bar. Two idiots, that’s what you amounted to, and it was endlessly frustrating.

“I guess it’s time for bed,” Kento said, straightening in his seat but still making no effort to untangle you from his chest.

Alarmed, you jerked upwards and shook your head violently. “Oh no no no. There is no way you go straight to bed after horror movies!”

“I don’t plan on staying awake all night if that’s what you’re insinuating,” he countered with a sharp arch of one eyebrow. Your hand remained flush on his thigh now that you weren’t moulded into his body, and he did his best not to notice.

“No,” you pouted, exhaling loudly through your nose. “We watch something funny then go to bed. And you have to stay with me because…”

“… because you’re scared.”

You smacked him dead centre in his chest, rolling your eyes when his chuckle deepened into a rich baritone belly laugh that made your legs tremble. Thank god you were sitting down. “Shuddup.”

There was a part of you that wanted to retreat into his warmth, to make yourself a home in the space beneath his arm and listen to the beat of his heart until you found yourself too tired to resist the pull of sleep, but that was asking rather a lot.

Not for the first time, you wondered if he could read your mind, or if your thoughts were simply so obviously written across your face. Kento lifted the remote with his right hand and waved you towards him with the left. There was something unreadable in his expression, a tightness around the eyes and chiselled jawline. Again, you wondered how much of this he wanted to participate in, but the allure of his offer was too tempting to miss out on.

You resumed your position, legs tucked up and your torso leaning into the strong support of a man you were falling for. Fuck… why did it have to be like this? Closing your eyes for a moment’s reprieve, you resolved to do something about it—anything—because living this way, with these feelings and desires was taking its toll.

“That one,” you piped up when Kento passed over a movie you knew inside out. You convinced yourself that a good laugh would solve all your immediate problems and wriggled into a more comfortable position. The other matter could wait until the morning.

“A fine choice,” he murmured more to himself than anything. A smile returned to his face when the familiar movie of an overzealous police officer deployed to the seemingly pristine British countryside for showing up the city force began to play on the screen.

An hour in and your delightful laughter had stopped. Kento felt the rhythm of your breathing deepen, a swivel of his eyes told him exactly why—you were fast asleep. He gazed at your sleeping face for longer than he realised, his neck stiffening from the awkward position but not caring for the dull ache. Your features were smooth, relaxed in a peaceful slumber. There was no sign of your trepidation following the scary movies and he smiled gratefully.

You were so pretty. The truth of those words cemented into his brain, and he doubted anything could dissuade him. He couldn’t remember a time when he had gazed longingly at a previous girlfriend or lover like he was right now. There was something different about you, and yet so right that he ached to admit it out loud. Ever since the woman in the museum had mistaken you for a couple, offering advice that seemed to be tailor made specifically for his worries, he couldn’t get the idea of opening up out of his head.

His fingers graced the apple of your cheek, stroking your skin delicately like the flutter of a butterfly’s wing. Your face turned into the soft affection, a long comforting sigh exhaled through slightly parted lips and Kento fell even further. Why couldn’t he have met you under normal circumstances? A memory of your frantic flailing when he surprised you in his bathtub brought humour to his heart rather than the mortification of the day itself. It certainly made for an interesting story…

It took longer than it should for Kento to realise the movie had ended. Black velvet darkness decorated the quiet room, voyeuristic shadows clinging to the walls from the dark light of the blank television screen, still on but with nothing to display. The silent witnesses watched on whilst his heart beat faster and faster, head moving closer to your face until his lips brushed your forehead with heartfelt reverence.

The kiss was momentary, one singular frame in the grand scheme of his life, but to Kento, it felt like the defining moment. His old life, daily routine, the endlessly long hours at work, working out every morning simply to fit the aesthetic he believed to be the most suited to his lifestyle, it all seemed completely meaningless.

He thought of the books that lined the shelves of his office, most still unread. The places he dreamed of visiting—far flung countries with soft white sandy beaches, foreign cities with beautiful architecture to explore and even places closer to home that he never had time to venture to. How much of life was he missing out on? The food he could sample. The interests he could test out to see if any stuck, the people he could make friends with, the woman he could love…

Shit.

You were changing his entire world, and you had no fucking clue. He shouldn’t have kissed you. That realisation burned into him with vigour, the blazing inferno of his self-loathing at taking something that was not freely given, churned his stomach. Should he wake you and admit what he had done? No, it wasn’t fair to you.

Kento manoeuvred himself into a position to reach beneath your thighs, lifting you with ease into his arms and you didn’t even jostle at the movement. His eyes never left your face as you nuzzled into his chest, small fingers holding onto the fine threads of his sweater as if you were scared to lose your place, to lose your security. He wished he could be that for you, but he wasn’t sure if he was strong enough.

With the utmost care, he placed you into your bed, carefully unpicking your fingers and pressing the sheets into your palm as replacement before tucking them around you. Kento smiled when you murmured something unintelligible in your sleep, turning onto your side and burying your nose into your pillow with a gentle moan that spoke of nothing but comfort and peace. Despite kicking himself for the earlier kiss he had stolen without permission or consent, he found his nose and lips nestled in your hair once more. Again, the kiss was fleeting, and he stood to his full height and wished you a pleasant sleep under his breath before closing your door and disappearing behind his own.

He had a lot to think about, some decisions to make that could alter the course of his life and it was likely that not much sleep would come to him this night despite his earlier conviction that he wouldn’t be awake all night.

Sighing heavily, he scrubbed a palm down his weary face until he could catch his reflection in the bathroom mirror, the strain evident in his features.

“What do I do?”

#delirious writes #nanami kento #nanami x reader #nanami fluff #nanami kento x reader #nanami kento fluff #jjk x reader #jjk fluff #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen fluff

[csuitebitches]

How to Build the Woman You Want to be - 3

In the first part, we talked about ideation. Who is your ideal self?

In the second part, we talked about executing. How do we reach your ideal self?

In this part, we’ll discuss failures, missing goals or having a burnout, and structuring your routine.

Start every single day reading your New Story. You could even record yourself saying it and play it in the background while getting ready for the day. It is so important that you have to start believing in your improved self and start behaving that way.

If you can listen to Taylor Swift’s 10 minute version of All Too Well in one go, you can listen to 3 minutes of your New Story everyday.

You will not be able to be “her” if you do not start living, eating, breathing, sleeping like her.

While you work on yourself, remember these things:

First of all, none of your goals should be exhaustive in nature. If you’re new to working out, don’t work out for one hour - start with 20 minutes. Work your way up. Take as much time as needed but you need to be consistent.

Two, allow yourself to have a certain number of rest/ lazy days in a month. I limit myself to 3 because of my tight work schedule, but in my opinion, don’t go more than 5. When you use these, use them fully. Allow yourself to be completely relaxed- don’t feel guilty or bad. We all need those days.

Three, it’s fine to not reach all your monthly targets. What’s not fine is making excuses about them or not taking accountability.

“I missed my reading target because I would read after work, and I soon realised how tired I would be after getting home. To solve this issue next month, I’ll start my day reading 5 pages instead.”

Show yourself accountability and honesty. Offer yourself an alternative solution.

Four, do not compare progress to someone else.

Everyone is different - right from their mental capacity, to their body type, to their discipline. Your friend may show better results than you but that doesn’t mean that you won’t show any. Recognise your own progress and don’t be let down by someone else’s. Show genuine appreciation when your friend meets their goals - and don’t feel threatened by it. Everyone has a pace of progress, and it’s important to find yours in order to live sustainably.

Five, do not get into “get rich quick” type of schemes. I can assure you right now that your little crash diet is not going to work. It’s going to make things worse. Choose a healthier, slower method. Set small, achievable targets. You will thank yourself later.

Six, be honest with yourself about your strengths and weaknesses. Recognise your flaws but also recognise your strengths. It’s not narcissistic to tell yourself that you did well. Build that relationship with yourself.

Seven. Work on yourself in silence. Don’t broadcast your progress to people at every turn. While the external validation is nice, it’s important to be resilient and not be dependent on someone else’s praises. Be more private. Share your progress and goals after achieving them so that they can’t be affected in any way.

Eight. Learn uncomfortable truths about yourself and the world. Understand that not all discomfort is bad.

[jimmyssnuggs]

Can you do a Gabe imagine pls? Can it be a childhood friend's trope pls?

For as long as you could remember, Gabe Perreault had been a constant in your life. You had met in first grade, the curly haired boy coming up to you, with your tiny pigtails, and insisting he sat next to you. What came next was a friendship that had only grown stronger as each year passed.

You went to every hockey game of Gabe’s that you possibly could, and tagging along on each other's family vacations.

You weren’t sure when things shifted, but ever since you had arrived at Boston College for freshman year, something had been different. A good, but also scary different.

Seeing girls flirt with him makes her sick now. A year ago, she would’ve given him a thumbs up and a smile as encouragement, but now she can’t stomach it.

——

It’s a Friday night, and instead of going out to a party, you’re sitting in Conte Forum, watching Gabe’s hockey game, just like every weekend they have a home game. You’re his so-called ‘Good Luck Charm’, deemed when the one game you didn’t go to ended in a loss for Boston College.

Ever since then, you were to be present at every Boston College hockey game, with Gabe’s jersey on, per order of him, Ryan, and Will.

You make your way over to the locker game to see Gabe, like every time. Media is done, and Gabe should be walking out the door any minute now.

“Y/N!” Ryan shouts, running over to you. You spot the familiar brown curls walking behind him, and your stomach flips. “Did you see my goal? It was so sick, wasn’t it?”

“Yeah, it was cool.” You respond halfheartedly, meeting Gabe’s eyes. Ryan shoots you a knowing look, but you swat him.

“Gabe-o!” You shout, throwing your arms around him. His arms go around your waist, steadying the both of you. Butterflies erupt in your stomach. “You looked like a rockstar out there!”

“Thank’s Y/N/N. You brought us good luck, just like I said you would,” His arms are still around your waist, and the butterflies are multiplying rapidly. “The team and girlfriends are going to the bar tonight, you in?” He looks down at you, and you look up at him.

“Sounds fun. I should probably change out of this though, put on something nicer.” You point down at the jersey.

“Oh, you don’t wanna wear my jersey to the bar?” He mocks fake hurt, his million dollar smile spreading across his face.

“I don’t think this exactly screams ‘bar attire’, so I’m gonna have to say no.” You giggle.

“Fair enough. We can swing by your dorm and then head over.”

“Perfect.”

——

The bar is crowded, and Gabe has a tight grip on your hand, in order to not lose you. He’s deep in conversation with Ryan, while you are talking to Ryan’s girlfriend who’s leaning up against him.

You chose not to drink tonight, instead having a diet coke with lime. Someone needs to make sure that everybody finds a safe ride home tonight.

Gabe is not drinking either, figuring you’re gonna need help with rounding up everyone and getting them back.

“Have you told Gabe you liked him?” Ryan’s girlfriend speaks a little too loudly. She’s drunk, and you can’t blame her. Ryan’s eyes widen, and you squirm out of Gabe’s hold.

“Oh, um, look at the time. I should go.” You all but sprint out of the bar, ignoring Gabe’s shouts behind you.

“Y/N, Y/N, wait!” He shouts, but they fall to deaf ears.

“Gabe, go back to the bar. Your teammates need you,” You yell back, not losing your fast pace. But Gabe is faster, and he lifts you off the ground, despite your feet flailing around. “Put me down, now!”

“Sorry, can’t. Not until you stop yelling at me.”

“Please, spare me the embarrassment. You can never speak to me again, just don’t laugh at me.”

“Was she telling the truth? Do you like me?”

It’s a heat of the moment decision, but you decide it’s now or never. Surging forward, your lips meet his, and his hands fall to your waist, pulling you oh so close. It feels like magic; like a years worth of lingering feelings finally coming to a crash in the best way possible.

“Does that answer your question?”

“Yeah, it does.” He goes in for another, hands still on the small of her back to keep them both steady. It feels right, and nothing else could make either of you happier.

#gabe perreault #gabe perreault x reader #boston college hockey #bc hockey #boston college #ryan leonard #will smith #boston college eagles #bc eagles #bc eagles hockey #q writes

[btsficsandsuch]

Hi, I wanted to request a BTS × 8th member reader where they are not welcoming of her at the start and are hostile towards her but she is not treated by the management properly too . With a happy ending

I hope this is okay!

Warning: Swearing, Mentions of extreme dieting, Hints to physical abuse

Going To Be Better

“This is so stupid. We don’t need an 8th member.”, Yoongi spat. “I agree. Things are great the way they are.”, Taehyung added. Bang PD nodded in agreement but his words spoke differently, “I understand. It’s a big change but I think it’s going to be a good change. Bringing on this new member will surely bring in new fans. Just give Y/N a chance. She’s really talented. Have I ever done anything to try and jeopardize your careers?” The boys all nodded in understanding but the mood in the room was still tense.

To say you were nervous was an understatement. You were currently standing outside one of the recording studios trying to work up the courage to knock. When you finally were able to give three soft knocks you waited in silence. After a couple more knocks you were still met with more silence. Thinking maybe you didn’t hear them say to come in you gently pushed open the door and were met with three pairs of eyes staring at you.

“What the fuck? Don’t you know how to knock?”, Yoongi spoke. “Alright that’s enough hyung.”, Namjoon replied. Hoseok just sat there staring at you. Before anyone else could speak Bang PD walked in with a smile, “Oh I see you’ve met already. Everyone this is Y/N. I asked her to meet here to work on some new songs with you guys. I know I can count on you guys to treat her well.” Just as quickly as he appeared you watched him walk off typing away on his cell phone while you desperately wished he would stay. “Great, so they really weren’t kidding about this new eighth member?”, you heard someone speak and that’s when you noticed Jungkook, Taehyung, Jin, and Jimin sat in a corner of the room.

Trying to be kind you put on a smile and tried to introduce yourself, “Hello, like he said my name is Y/N. I was a trainee wit-“ but you were cutoff. “We don’t really want to hear your life story right now. Let’s see if you’re actually as talented as they say you are.”, Namjoon spoke. Shyly you made your way into the recording booth taking the lyric sheet from Jimin. A few moments later the melody began and you sang your heart out wanting to impress them. You honestly impressed yourself with how good you sounded.

Hearing a beep you looked over and saw that Yoongi was about to speak. Your heart sank a little when instead of praise you received nothing but criticism. Trying to hold back the tears you sang through the verse six more times before they were happy with it. Thankful when they finally told you to go home you couldn’t wait to get out of there. This definitely wasn’t going as you had hoped.

Over the next few weeks you practiced and practiced not wanting to disappoint. Big Hit officially announced you as the new 8th member of BTS and you were very well received by the fans and media. They said it was refreshing and they were excited to see how this progressed. Unfortunately the rest of the group still hadn’t come around to the idea. They weren’t as harsh with their words as they were at the start but they still kept their distance. Jungkook was the only one who was somewhat opening up to you. It probably had something to do with being closer in age to each other.

Today you were getting a crash course on the choreography. Hoseok felt that you weren’t quite getting it so he wanted you to get extra practice. “Y/N, I know it’s difficult but you should be going a little quicker. Is there something I can do to help you?”, he asked. You couldn’t discern if he was actually trying to be helpful or if he just wanted to rub it in. At this point you didn’t really care. The two of you had been at it for several hours now and you were exhausted. It didn’t help that it was already 9:00pm and you were currently functioning on a cup of black coffee and half a banana that you had for breakfast. One of the mangers had told you that you looked pretty chubby in your stage outfits and suggested you loose some weight. Even though you felt like passing out you smiled at Hoseok, “I’m sorry Hobi. I’ll try harder.” He nodded and you two ran through the choreography again.

Two weeks later you guys had your first official performance as a group of eight. Everyone was sitting backstage relaxing when one of the managers came walking through the door doing an inspection of outfits. When he got to you he looked you up and down and you knew it wasn’t going to be positive.

The closer he got the more you flinched trying to turn away. Jimin definitely noticed your behavior and knew something was going on. “Y/N, I thought we told you to loose weight. It doesn’t look like you’ve lost a single pound.”, he asked. You could feel your throat drying up. “I’ve been dieting and I’m constantly working on choreography and I go to the gym in what little spare time I have. If I eat any less I won’t be eating at all.”, you whispered. The manager scoffed, “Well then I suggest you stop eating in general. You might be talented but your visuals will bring the group down.” As you watched him turn and walk away you could feel seven pairs of eyes on you. The last couple months finally caught up to you and you couldn’t hold back the tears any longer. “Well you guys get what you’ve wanted this whole time. You can remain a group of seven. I quit.”, you said before walking out the door letting it slam behind you.

Thankfully you were able to find an empty room down the hall that you walked into so you could have some privacy. Sitting on the floor you released all the pent-up frustration and hurt that you had been feeling over the last couple months. You were so enthralled in your sorrows that you didn’t hear the door open causing you to jump when you felt someone grab your hand. You weren’t expecting Jimin to be standing there with a sad look in his eyes.

Before either of you could speak the door opened up and the other six members came following in. They all sat in a circle in front of you not speaking. Part of you wanted to tell them off and let them know how much they hurt you, part of you wanted to hear them out and maybe get an apology, and another part of you wanted to get up and walk out not giving them another minute of your time. Before you could decide Namjoon spoke, “Y/N we owe you a major apology. I know simply saying sorry isn’t enough but we’ve been really hard on you and not welcoming.” Yoongi added, “Yeah I’ve been particularly rough on you. It’s just been a big change that they threw at us and we weren’t expecting it. We handled it like spoiled children instead of responsible adults.” “Please don’t quit Y/N. You’re so talented and you do add something special to the group. We know it’s going to take time but we do want to make things right with you.”, Jin said with smile. Drying off what was left of the tears on your cheeks you smiled, “I would like to try and work on our relationship but unfortunately I don’t think I can continue. I’m not going to starve myself and diet like this. I’m not going to be treated like dirt by management. That’s not healthy. I’ve realized I’m better than that.” Namjoon nodded, “Let us take care of that Y/N. We’ll make sure he doesn’t bother you any more.” The guys helped you get up off the ground and each gave you a hug before walking out the door. Jimin stayed behind a little longer. Taking your hand in his he spoke, “Y/N I just wanted you to know that you’re beautiful the way that you are and you don’t have to change. That’s something that took me a long time to learn in this industry. I’m genuinely sorry for how we treated you and I’m sorry that we let management treat you like that too. We swore we would protect any new idols but we failed you. We’ll make sure you’re taken care of from now on.” “Thank you Jimin. I do appreciate that.”, you smiled and led him out into the hallway.

Thankfully the concert went off without a hitch. You hit all of your notes and we’re on point with the choreography. The fans also seemed to really love you. After the show Taehyung invited you back to the dorm for their post concert routine of ordering a ton of takeout and then crashing on the couch watching a movie. Things still felt a little awkward but you appreciated that they were trying to make things right and everyone knew it would take time.

The following day you made your way to the recording studio when you heard someone call your name. Turning around you saw Bang PD smiling at you as he invited you into his office. “Y/N, I had a long meeting with the boys this morning. They told me what happened yesterday with the manager and how he treated you. You should’ve come to me a while ago and let me know that this was going on. I just wanted to let you know that the manager in question has been dealt with and is no longer an employee of this company. Should this happen again please bring it to my attention immediately.”, he advised. “Thank you.”, was all you could say feeling a wash of relief that you don’t have to deal with this any more. After giving a quick goodbye you walked out of his office and went back over to the studio knocking on the door and waiting to be let in. A few moments later Yoongi greeted you with a smile, “Y/N come in! I’ve got a bunch of new songs we need to work on. I think your voice is going to add something great.” Happily you walked in a greeting Namjoon who was sat at the control table before taking a seat next to Jimin who reached over and gently gave your knee a squeeze reminding you that things were going to be better.

#bts #bts fanfic #bts x reader #bts imagines #bts angst #Jin #Yoongi #Namjoon #hoseok #Jimin #taehyung #jungkook #jhope #suga #rm #v #bts x 8th member #8th member of bts

[weebsinstash]

Babe! A new Helluva Boss episode just dropped! And Ozzie and Fizz are just so goddamn cute! 😍😭 and Ozzie is such a sweetheart! (I hope he’s genuinely such a softie and not playing an act, we need more softie demons).

Can we please talk about Yandere! Ozzie again? Pretty please with a shit ton of sprinkles on top? 🥺

Bestie thank youuuu I watched that shit immediately and I have so many thoughts

This episode actually shows a big reason why I haven't really published a lot for like, Ozzie or Valentino in terms of actual fics because, my take on Ozzie's personality based purely off his debut appearance would've been a lot more different and now we see that, bro he's, suave yeah, but also, a huge green flag lovable cinnamon roll dork??? Valentino, we only have seen so much of. To be honest the way he's been presented seems to sway from "scary as fuck during gangster business stuff" to "he's kind of a ratchet ho, actually" and I'm not, entirely super confident writing stuff for him because like, I'm more of, assuming? I can't, analyze his character like I can for other characters with more material out for them.

For real though, my current stance on this matter is: Asmodeus, you could go to him and ask for his knowledge and advice on like genuine issues or things you're curious or concerned about like, legit you could sit down and have STD talks with this man ("h-hey Ozzie is it normal to have xyz on my you know what" "oh honey yes that's just like a blood blister from friction you're fine" "oh my god ok good because I was worried it was cancer" "HONEY NO 😩") meanwhile fucking Valentino over here would be like "bitch why you got cellulite" and like make backhanded comments like, oh maybe he could reward you with a boob job instead of your next paycheck (as in like, cosmetic surgery 💀 you know I've thought about that? Yan Valentino who's crazy for ya but, not crazy enough to not make certain, tweaks to your actual body. Maybe he dyes your hair or has it styled a specific way and basically refuses to let you do whatever you want with it. Gets your boobs or ass done. Makes you get fillers/botox for any wrinkles/static lines. Controlling your wardrobe is a must. You're like his little.... pursedog)

(That being said though. I'd still let him hit 😩 reader who gets drunk and fucks around and finds out--)

Anyways though, over here in our corner we believe in unapologetic self indulgence and I still believe a Reader who has magical abilities or powers and whatnot and can travel the rings through whatever convoluted means is a fun time. So. We're gonna do that! I mean. Asmodeus honestly seems chill enough that even if you like, somehow crashed into his club, as long as you were polite and respectful, he'd be chill with letting your hang around, maybe even getting a kick out of teasing you (but never pushing anything too far unless you show interest, and if you show any discomfort or trauma he backs off to re-strategize). I imagine his club would actually be pretty fun? Drinks, live music, although, kind of makes me wonder, how openly horny is this place? Probably not like "coochie in your face" like working for Valentino, so, Reader could even be all "honestly this is such a much more safe welcoming environment to engage in like sexuality" and Ozzie hears this and its like, dude. You might as well have just struck him through the heart with cupids own arrow, but, also, he's curious, what other places have you been?

I'm kind of convinced that if a little imp cunt like Crimson thinks he has the balls to stand up against Ozzie, hostage or not, I kinda feel like. Valentino would probably openly treat Asmodeus like shit. He'd probably be a catty fucking bitch to him. He probably looks at Ozzie as like, a diet coke version of himself, a version who has so much power but doesn't go far enough, and probably scoffs at Asmodeus' romantic attachment (even though Val has some weird on-off thing with Vox himself). Valentino doesn't give two fucks about consent and would probably openly mock Ozzie'e values

Or. They could be big business partners because, maybe there's some sort of inter-Ring porn trafficking pipeline or something, smuggling the good shit up from Lust and trading it with stuff from Sinners, who have more visual variety besides other perks etc

But just picture, Asmodeus and Fizz are, minding their own biz, at the club, chilling, listening to music, eating food vaguely shaped like clocks, and Ozzie's cell rings, and they're both like "aw I bet Reader's calling to say they're having fun at that party or whatever" but they answer it and you're like, hiding in the bathroom or a closet or something, crying, whispering under your breath "d-do you still have a place for me to stay like you said before 🥺 Valentino is really, REALLY drunk tonight and he's really scaring me, he grabbed me and--"

They're both at your exact location in like less than 5 minutes and maybe have to play it off, Ozzie distracting Val while Fizz steals you away, or, juicier, like. Imagine Val snatching your phone from your hand, going through your messages, "who the fuck have you been talking to?" And he pulls like the classic abusive boyfriend move and when he sees you're in frequent contact with someone named "Ozzie" he calls him from your phone and as soon as a male voice picks up, they're both going at it "bitch who the fuck are you?" "Bitch who the fuck are YOU?" "Why you got my baby's number?" "Why do YOU have MY baby's PHONE???" "I'm about to HAVE my foot up your ass, you--" like, you know what I mean? Asmodeus is rolling up and these two are all but butting heads with each other as you have to awkwardly explain how you know both of them and of course, suddenly there's a not quite comfortable conversation about which one of them you... "belong to", neither of them wanting to leave you with the other (although I imagine in a physical fight Asmodeus would win but Valentino would have homefield advantage involving his security dudes)

Either way like.... oh my god watching them lounge in that nice big bed together. Fizz being on Ozzie's chest, like. Give me that 😩😩😩 "oh Reader, baby, so glad you took up our offer for a place to crash, but, since it was so short notice it'll have to be with us tonight" type shit and like you're fine with that but then bedtime comes and. There's Literally Only One Bed. And you're like ok you know what I'm not really in a position to be ungrateful, Valentino could have actually fucking hurt me or trafficked me or whatever, but, you're still small enough that Asmodeus could hypotheticallyyyy just, reach an arm over and scoop up you into his chest for a cuddle, or just have you in the crook of his arm like a cat or a teddy bear. Ozzie definitely sees an immediate perk on Fizz not being so much of a troll as to give you the airhorn treatment your first morning there, so, obviously, they have, multiple motivations to, keep urging you to stay 👀 after all, Val is going to be looking for you in the Pride Ring, and you don't have any other friends, so, you're kind of stuck with their whims aren't you? Unless you try to run off on your own, and I mean. Really. They can just hire someone to bring you back lmao. Or get you themselves. Could you imagine feeling way you uncomfortable around them and slipping away and suddenly you find a little white demon dog on wheels happily rolling up to you out of nowhere and it's. Fucking tracking you for Fizzarolli and Asmodeus, like. Damn, can't even trust the dogs in Hell. Demon dogs in Ohio be like

Anyways idk I just like the idea of like. Combining several ideas, you do the whole "accidentally did the whole Death Fall From The Sky and crash into Vals sunroof, he keeps you in servitude because you have to repay him, eventually you Fall into Lust and you start basically doing double jobs at both clubs and prefer Ozzie and he eventually has to rescue you". Also like Valentino "canonically" humiliates his partners on social media so I can imagine he's just publicly belittling and negging you all the time. One second you're happy at Ozzie's listening to music and eating unholy amounts of onion rings with your quirky well intentioned clown friend, the next week Asmodeus sees a Sinstagram post where Valentino is just like "cutie was whining she couldn't get any tips so I helped her out 😜🤭🍈🍈" and its just. A photo of you in your work uniform where he clearly just reached forward and tore open the front of your blouse and he is just. Full on deadass without any hint of irony making you basically work in your bra and he's just without any remorse posting photos of your running mascara and you're clearly crying but what can you do?

Val posting a photo of him literally shoving a tip INTO your bra, his FINGERS in there, and other like little clips and snippets of him demeaning you while you're like actually fucking blubbering "and make sure to get me extra ice!" "*sobbing noises*" "I didn't hear a REPLY! Do I need to take some of those nice tips I'm helping you make?" "N n noOo I'm sorry" "sorry WHAT?" "M sorry mister Valentino, I'm sorry, I'll get your drink right away mister Valentino" and Val is just slapping your ass HARD as you turn to leave like and just laughing like this is the most fun he's ever had

like I feel like Asmodeus realistically would only be able to do so much IN Pride itself (because would You show up in your boss' turf doing your own shit? Big risk) BUT, I mean. You go down to Lust and you're basically fair game. You show up to your next shift after The Boob Incident and Ozzie's like "giiiiiiiirl imma keep it real with you, I know you wanna try and be independent but I got some concerns--" and he's barely even halfway through it before you're just, TEAR EXPLOSION, "i hate working for him, I HATE IT, I wanna work HERE full time, but I don't have a place to staAaaAaay" and just. Some UGLY crying because you're at wits end

Zero hesitation here's Asmodeus "Sweetie what kind of apartment do you want??? You want a penthouse? I can get you a penthouse?? You want some shopping money?? Tell Big O whatever you need." and the next thing you know Valentino is scrolling through Sinastagram and has to do a double take as your account starts posting all kinds of photos of you looking cute and having fun and, poolside in a bathing suit and you're becoming more comfortable with your body and your sexuality and, he's thirsty absolutely, goes to try and tease you or make fun of you and you're just like "you wanna fuck me so bad it makes you look stupid" and just ignore him as Val is forced to watch you pal around with Asmodeus (either as just friends or total fuck buddies like, deadass catch me out here "hey so, there's this position I've always wanted to try--")

#yandere x reader #yandere hazbin hotel #yandere stuff #sinprompts #yandere helluva boss #idk do i even. tag this series. idk. #you can tell this shits been in my drafts

[ambrossart]

DANCING WITH MYSELF

— PART ONE

summary: eddie crashes senior prom hoping to steal a dance with his dream girl, chrissy cunningham. instead, he spends the night stuck in the women’s restroom with you—her snarky, insecure best friend. ❖ pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader ❖ word count: 2,489 ❖ genre: fluff with some angst ❖ series status: complete ❖ warnings: no season 4 spoilers, some coarse language, body image issues, allusions to eating disorders, typical teenage insecurities, angst, jealousy, anxiety, secret crushes, childhood memories, happy ending, lots of 80s music one | two | three | four | five | six | seven | eight | nine | ten

You were more than a little caught off guard when Chance Gallagher asked you to the senior prom.

Chance was popular, Chance was on the basketball team, and you were just Chrissy Cunningham's snarky best friend. The "bitchy" one—yeah, that was your identifier (so that you wouldn't be confused with her other, much perkier friends). You were confident that ninety percent of the student body had no idea what your actual name was. To them, you were simply Chrissy Cunningham's Bitchy Best Friend. Depressing as that was, it was an enormous step up from constantly being referred to as her "chubby" best friend. All that dieting must have finally paid off.

Needless to say, you were a little skeptical when Chance Gallagher, dressed in his green letterman jacket, showed up at your locker six weeks before the big night.

He swung by and said, "Hey, you..."

In hindsight, that should have been your first clue that this was going to end in disaster. Hey, you? Come on, the boy clearly didn't know your name. But at the time, you weren't thinking about that. No, you were too busy admiring his long dark hair, those deep-set brown eyes, and that shy, crooked smile that slowly crept up the side of his face...

"Hi," you said back, and you thought your voice sounded oddly high-pitched for some reason, like Minnie Mouse. You had to clear your throat and try again. "Hey, uhh, what's up?"

"Nothin' much." Chance paused and ran his hand through his hair. Shamelessly, you watched him do it, and you caught yourself wondering if his hair was as soft as it looked. It probably was.

"I was just thinking," he went on, "you know, about prom coming up..."

You retreated into sarcasm. "Oh, is prom coming up?"

"Uh... yes?" Chance cocked his head, looking so confused.

You winced. "Sorry, just ignore me. So, what about prom?"

"Well, I was wondering if anyone asked you yet."

You squinted at him for a second, thinking, Seriously? "Uhh, no, no one's asked me yet."

"Good," said Chance, nodding and smiling, and you stood there, thinking, Wow, those are some white teeth.

Then, while you were distracted by those white teeth, he snuck in a quick: "So you wanna go, then?"

You blinked slowly. Once. Twice. "I'm sorry... what?"

"I'm asking if—"

"You're asking me to prom?"

"Well, I'm trying to, but you're making it kinda difficult."

"Well, I'm a difficult person," you said under your breath. Then: "Wait a minute, is this like a Taming of the Shrew scenario? Is there a Bianca somewhere in this?"

Chance's brow furrowed. "Taming of the what?"

"The shrew."

"What's a shrew?"

"Well, it's actually a small, mouse-like animal, but it's also the word for an ill-tempered woman, which is the definition I'm referring to—not the mouse, obviously; although I could see the mouse making sense too, you know, within a different context... Anyway, The Taming of the Shrew is a Shakespearean comedy. We read it in English last week. We took turns playing the parts... well, not me, I mostly just read the stage directions. See, I've got a thing about public speaking and, you know, speaking in general..."

"Really? 'Cause you seem pretty good at it." Chance was smiling at you.

And now you were smiling back... and laughing, too. It was a colorful laugh that burst out of your chest like confetti out of a New Year's Eve popper.

"That was a good joke," you said. "I liked that."

Silence. Heavy and awkward.

Chance broke it. "So... is that a yes to prom? Or do I need to leave, come back, and start this process all over again?"

You laughed again, but this one made your chest hurt a little.

Your gut reaction was to say, Yes, absolutely! but you never listened to your gut. You listened to the small voice in your head, the one currently showing you all the possible worst-case scenarios on a teeny tiny projector: frame after frame after frame. This is a bad idea. This is a terrible idea. You should just say no right now and save yourself the embarrassment.

But then you heard Chrissy's voice in your head, that sweet Disney princess voice. You know you're the only one getting in your way, right? Stop sabotaging yourself. You would be so much happier if you would stop shutting everyone out. Just open up a little, let people in, and I promise they'll think you're amazing, just like I do... and then I'm gonna have to tell them all to back off because you're my best friend. I found you first. 

You closed your eyes and took a deep breath. "Okay, look, at the risk of making this all blow up in my face, can just I ask why? Why do you wanna go to prom with me, Chance? I mean, sure, we sit at the same lunch table, and yeah, you're friends with Jason and I'm friends with Chrissy, but we've never spoken a word to each other... so why?"

Chance shrugged. "Because I want to? Because I think we'd have a good time? Do I need another reason?"

You bit down on your lip. That wasn't the answer you were hoping for, but then again, maybe that was just your anxiety talking. You shook all those ugly thoughts away and said, "Okay."

Chance took a step back, seeming delightfully surprised. "Okay?"

"Okay... yes, I'll go to prom with you." And you felt a little like Sissy Spacek in the movie Carrie.

Was this your Tommy Ross?

Oh, hopefully he doesn't die...

Chance pumped his fist. "Well, all right!" And for a second, you thought he was going to give you a high five or a slap on the back. Instead, he backed away slowly, heading toward his own locker. "This will be great. Yeah, I'm really looking forward to this."

"Me too," you said.

And that was the problem. You started looking forward to it. You started getting excited about it. Daydreaming about it. Flipping through magazines and dog-earing your favorite pages, because suddenly you had favorite pages. And that's why you were absolutely gutted when Chance called you up six hours before prom and said he couldn't make it.

With just five words, all your prom plans went up in flames.

"Food poisoning? Are you kidding me right now?" You were sitting on your bed with the phone pressed against your ear. It almost slipped out of your grasp when you first heard the news. "Can't you, like, take some Pepto-Bismol or something?"

"Seriously?"

"No, not seriously, Chance. I'm not a monster." You let out an angry huff and switched the phone to your opposite ear. "What am I supposed to do now? I bought tickets and a dress and some really, really painful heels." You had even practiced walking in those painful heels so that you wouldn't look stupid—or worse, trip and fall on your face in front of everyone. "There's gonna be pictures and dinner and a frickin' limo... Oh my god, I'm gonna be the only one there without a date!"

"I know... I'm so sorry."

"Well, great, can I bring your 'sorry' with me to prom? Can I pose next to it during pictures?" You swallowed hard, feeling the sharp sting of oncoming tears. You lowered the phone to your shoulder (while Chance continued to utter apology after apology) and squeezed your eyes shut before a single one could escape. 

After a minute, you heard Chance say, "You still there?"

You brought the phone back to your ear. "Yeah," you said, and wiped your runny nose on your wrist. "Look, don't worry about me, okay? I'll, uhh, I'll figure something out."

"Yeah, okay... And, hey, I'm really, really sorry." 

"Yeah, I know," you said, numbing yourself to it. "Anyway, I'm gonna go. Uhh, feel better, okay?"

You slammed the phone down before he could say goodbye. Then you saw the stack of magazines on your nightstand. And the pink shoebox on the floor. You buried your face in your hands and had yourself a good five-minute cry before picking the phone back up and frantically dialing Chrissy's number.

She answered in a chirpy voice: "Hello, hello... Cunningham residence."

"He's not coming!" you blurted out in a stuffy, near-to-tears voice.

"What? What do you mean, he's not coming?"

"Food poisoning! He got food poisoning!"

"He got food poisoning? Oh, no..."

"Yeah. That's just my luck, right? I just spent three hundred dollars for nothing."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, obviously I can't go now..."

"What? But you have to go!"

"Chris, I can't—"

"No, Y/N, you have to go! This is the senior prom. This is supposed to be our special night."

You rolled your eyes. "Pretty sure Jason thinks it's his special night."

"Well, he's wrong," Chrissy said, and stifled a laugh. "Come on, you didn't go to junior prom, and that was fine, but this is the senior prom, our last prom, and I wanna spend it with my best friend. I want us to go get our hair and makeup done, and put on these outrageous, obnoxious dresses, and go make asses of ourselves on that dance floor. That way, when I'm old and wrinkly, I can look back on this moment and think, Wow... I so peaked in high school."

You both laughed. Despite the tears, you laughed.

"Yeah," you said, "I want that, too... but I don't have a date, Chris."

"So what? You can come with me and Jason."

"Oh, the third wheel. Yeah, I bet your boyfriend would love that."

"He won't mind. And if he does, screw him. We'll leave his ass at home and go to prom together. Deal?"

You smiled and dabbed your eyes dry with your sleeve. "Deal."

Overjoyed, Chrissy squealed so loud you had to pull the phone away from your ear. "Now, hurry up and get your butt over here, pretty lady! Our appointment's in an hour."

"Fine, fine..."

You said your goodbyes and hung up. That's when the dread finally set in, twisting your stomach into one giant pretzel. "Food poisoning, huh? Boy, is he lucky." You rolled onto your back and stared at the ceiling for what felt like forever.

"I'm calling it now: this is gonna be the worst night of my life."

Three streets down, Gareth Lozinski’s garage was exploding with the thrashing chords of heavy metal. 

Corroded Coffin was currently six songs deep into their ten-song set list (a tribute to all their favorite metal bands), which would eventually get whittled down to just five songs. Any more than that and the manager of The Hideout would pull the plug on them. That happened last Tuesday, after Eddie Munson tried to sneak in a second Iron Maiden song when he thought the manager had stepped outside for a smoke break. They were only six bars in when their mics and amps suddenly died. Eddie, lost in the music, played another eight bars before he realized what had happened. 

“Boo,” he said into the dead mic; then he strummed an angry riff and walked off the stage. 

The band took a short break after Black Sabbath’s “Paranoid” so that Gareth could help his mother carry in the groceries. Mrs. Lozinski made a comment about their playing, said they were “really coming along” because she didn’t know what else to say. Gareth’s little sister was more succinct with her feedback. She skipped past the open garage with a paper bag full of fruit and said, “No, you guys still suck.” 

Five minutes later, Gareth returned with half a turkey sandwich, sat down behind his drum set, and played the majority of Motörhead’s “Ace of Spades” with the sandwich hanging out of his mouth. He wolfed the rest down during Eddie’s excessively long guitar solo.  

Just when you thought he was done, the guy kept on going…

These rehearsals usually carried on well into the evening. Gareth’s family sat down to dinner at around six-thirty, and they didn’t appreciate the unique ambiance of Eddie Munson’s screaming guitar, so that’s when the band typically called it quits. 

Today, however, was no typical day. Today was the senior prom. 

Jeff was the first one to unstrap his guitar. “All right, guys, I’m outta here.” 

Gareth, a junior who had yet to experience prom, said, “Dude, it’s only three. Prom doesn’t start for another four hours.” 

“Yeah, but Tara’s parents wanna take pictures, and my parents wanna take pictures, and then we gotta go to dinner… It’s a whole event.” 

Grant heard that and unstrapped as well. “Yeah, shit, I better get going, too.” 

Meanwhile, Eddie Munson was staring off into space and silently strumming his guitar, trying to work out some of Motörhead’s trickier chord progressions in his head. He stopped momentarily when he felt Jeff’s hand on his shoulder. 

Jeff said, “Hey, good luck tonight, man.” 

The corner of Eddie’s mouth raised into a lazy smile. “Thanks, man. See ya.” Then he bent his head and went back to strumming, his left hand fingering the beginning chords of Dio’s “The Last in Line.” 

Gareth put down his drumsticks and stood up. “You’re really going through with this, huh?” 

“Mhm,” said Eddie, only half listening. 

Gareth shook his head, utterly dumbfounded by his friend’s reckless determination. “You’re crazy, man. What makes you think Chrissy Cunningham’s gonna wanna dance with you?” 

Eddie’s fingers slowed and eventually stopped, those final chords lingering for a moment… then drifting away.

“Because this is my year, man.” Eddie was confident, but not arrogantly so. He simply believed his words to be true. “I’m telling you, all the stars are aligning for me. As long as I don’t blow Ms. O’Donall’s English final, and I don’t plan on blowing her English final, I’m gonna be out those doors and onto better things. Now all that’s left to do is steal a dance with my dream girl.” 

“Yeah… that sounds great and all, man, but this is Chrissy Cunningham we’re talking about. There’s no way she’s gonna dance with someone like you, especially not at prom.” 

“Really? I think she will, and especially because it’s prom.” 

Because Chrissy Cunningham wasn’t like the other popular girls. She wasn’t vain or pretentious. She didn’t strut around school like a princess amongst peasants. No, Chrissy Cunningham was something special, a very rare diamond in a pit of precious stones.

And tonight, for at least one song, she was going to be his. 

Eddie unstrapped his guitar and carried it over to its case. “Gareth my good man… Gareth the Good, Gareth the Great… I think tonight might be the best night of my life.” He smiled on his way out. “Wish me luck, buddy.”

“Good luck,” Gareth said, and watched him go. “Boy, he’s gonna need it.”

______________

CURRENT // NEXT

#stranger things #stranger things 4 #eddie munson #fanfic #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson imagine #chrissy cunningham #jason carver #chrissy x jason #chrissy x eddie #hellfire club #st4 #ambrossart #just me using fanfiction as therapy for all my high school trauma #dancing with myself #dwm #fanfiction

[leclsrc]

Just saw the last Carlos fic and I LIVED for it… but can never get enough of my manz… Carlos x driver!reader (friends to lovers) where it’s hard to be a female f1 driver because everyone is waiting to brand you as overly emotional and dramatic. What if the reader has a bad crash and she claims to everyone including her driver friends that she is completely fine, only to collapse later because of an injury she hid from everyone

silver lining – cs55

genre: drabble, angst?, fluff, yearning

auds here... whatta painful req anon! am trying to get reqs done so i start anew for 2023 but i write painfully slow. anyway i hope you enjoy this. title from silver lining by the nbhd :)

Silverstone is cold and windy when you snag P2 beside Carlos. 

Immediately, you’re ushered into the media pen to answer questions, after the usual physical check-up and initial celebrations. Something tugs at your leg, a dull pain that seems to grow, but you clear your throat and put on a smile for the interviewer. With drivers, the questions are an endless cliche: what was your strategy, did it go down well with Max, your teammate, were there prior discussions of how to handle this and that and conserve that and this.

But with you, the cliche reaches a whole new level. Apart from the usual, it’s: how do you keep your hair so shiny even when racing, any favorite workouts, what’s the female F1 driver diet. It’s tiring, draining to constantly overhear your male coworkers answer more objective, driver-oriented questions. 

It never helps to speak up against it. You’ve got most of the Internet on your side, but there’s the occasional semi-viral tweet that brands you as emotional and dramatic, sometimes backed up by so-called F1 experts. You’ve been the topic of multiple TikToks, podcast episodes, and think pieces that all bring you down.

“Did you feel nervous at all going into Q3, considering there’d been a minor complication with the car?” You feel for the interviewers, though, knowing they have to repeat all these for hours. You swallow your nerves and spout an answer of your own. The pain grows sharp.

The man pauses and reviews his notepad, then. “Did you maybe wish you could’ve gotten P1 today instead of Sainz? Prove the whole ‘girl boss’ notion?”

“My desire to win has nothing to do with ‘girl boss’-ing,” you clarify. “I’m very happy for Carlos, but at the end of the day this is my career, so obviously I’d say yes to wanting to get first place. It’s not an odd answer.”

Your gut churns with dread, knowing this will be spun into a nasty headline later. But you flex your leg, and it sends you into a silent fit of pain—something’s wrong, a muscle pulled or trapped. The interviewer thanks you after a few more questions, and you swallow the rest of your water in hopes of being distracted, albeit momentarily.

Seb bumps into you, notices the grimace on your flushed face. “Everything alright?”

“Tired,” you say, wanting nothing more than to be done with it and sleep the leg pain off. It increases with every step you take, but if you start showing signs of it here, the headlines will only worsen.

You pass the rest of the pen and wobble back to your motorhome. Much to your surprise, Carlos waits there, a towel slung over his shoulder. Like Seb, he notices the dull, dry pain written on your eyes.

Unlike Seb, he doesn’t leave the issue alone. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” you say. You and Carlos have always been close, harboring the same age gap as he and Charles but a more levelheaded relationship. “Are we celebrating tonight?”

“You definitely aren’t with the way you’re walking,” he says pointedly. “En serio?”

“I said nothing,” you say, sharpening your voice. “Leave it.”

He follows you slowly, until you’re both isolated by the door of your room. It’s quiet when you let him in, your irritance and standoffish behavior still evident.

He tries again, because if he’s learned anything from years of knowing and loving you, it’s that you’re a truly stubborn son of a bitch. “Tell me,” he says, solemn. His loud mood always tones down with you, not because you bore him, but because he feels more comfortable with himself.

Inversely, you’re always louder around him, more bubbly, unlike your typically stoic self. It’s the kind of connection neither of you can label, or explain. It’s the both of you, always. “I think my leg’s injured,” you say, letting the confession leave you in one breathless sentence. “It really, really hurts, Carlos.”

You lean against the wall and exhale. “I’ll get it checked,” you tack onto it, so he doesn’t worry even more. He worries a lot. Especially with you.

“Why didn’t you say anything at first,” he says, voice aghast with concern. He mumbles something in Spanish. When he’s caught in fits of emotion, you notice, his English is always the first to go.

“It wouldn’t have been taken seriously,” you reason, wincing. “I never am.”

“Fuck that,” he says. “You need to say these things.”

“Carlos,” you say. 

He takes his hand in yours. “You make me worry. I worry.”

You nod along, gripping his hand with whatever energy you have left. You know as early as now that you’ll be okay, that this annoying leg will be taped up and rested tonight, because that’s Carlos—always caring, always there. You have so much of him in your heart.

There’s a glimmer of something there, just in the undergrowth. You can’t wait to find out what it is.

#f1 #carlos sainz #carlos sainz drabble #carlos sainz smut #carlos sainz imagines #carlos sainz fanfic #carlos sainz x reader #f1 x reader

[therealvinelle]

In the twilight universe, do you think anyone has formed cults?

Canonically, yes they have. Look no further than to Amun, part of the coven which made the humans worship them as a pantheon of gods and who is commemorated even thousands of years later. Or Vladimir and Stefan, who lament that the Volturi ruined things for them so they can't make the humans worship them any longer.

There's no mention of vampire cults, though, if anything the response people have to the Cullens indicate they don't have a social pattern where cults often happen.

The Cullens follow strict rules, have a charismatic leader, engage in a diet that weakens them but consider it a privilege, they live in a very unusual way, they are not a cult (they're just weird) but if there were vampire cults I think it would come up. Some type of "Ahaha Carlisle you remind me so much of Charlespire Vampson" "Please don't say that :/" passing remark, or an anecdote.

I imagine the Volturi are the ones to thank or there not being a lot of fertile ground for cults. If you get too many vampires too hyped around an idea, the result is going to be bad for humans and for peace in the vampire world in general. Same hammer as with the newborn wars comes crashing down, except there tellingly isn't a specific law against it. We instead have laws that overlap with what a cult creation would indicate, such as "don't create too many vampires at once", "no public spectacles", "failure to report law-breaking to the Volturi will result in the same punishment as the law-breaker".

#twilight #twilight worldbuilding #twilight renaissance #twilight meta #twilight vampires #cults

[actualmermaid]

Hey Christians

I am once again getting reports that some of you are appropriating Jewish holidays and traditions, and 🌠 you should immediately stop doing that 🌠

Since I'm also a Christian, maybe you'll take this better from me. I usually see this behavior from people who are white, American, and/or Evangelical-adjacent, and I suspect that you're messing around with Jewish stuff because you feel alienated from your own cultural background, whatever that may be. You belong to what is essentially the big-box-store version of Christianity, and you're probably hungry for something that feels more "authentic." That's 100% understandable! But it is not a reason to appropriate traditions that belong to a community that has not shared them with you!

Luckily, there are some pretty easy ways to get acquainted with your own cultural heritage through traditional Christian observances.

Get acquainted with the traditional liturgical calendar. Our observances are structured around the solar year, and historically, these observances were tied to the patterns of agricultural labor. Religious festivals also had seasonal significance: the birth of Jesus coincides with the lengthening of days after the winter solstice, the resurrection of Jesus coincides with the rebirth of plants and animals in the spring, and so forth. The more you learn, the more you realize how much we've lost/forgotten!

If you know where your ancestors came from, you can research how folk-religious festivals are practiced in those parts of the world! What foods are eaten? What games are played? What stories are told? If there's a church associated with "your" cultural community, you might consider visiting them around important festivals and learning what they do. Remember, you are a student, and you should still approach these observances with respect and openness!

Here's a non-exhaustive list of things to try if you're feeling the temptation to appropriate a closed Jewish practice:

Instead of observing Rosh Hashanah because you're feeling left-out by the lack of major Christian holidays at this time of year, start looking forward to the feast day of St. Francis of Assisi (October 4). Here in the US, it's common for churches to hold a special "Blessing of the Animals" service or a "St. Francis the Peacemaker" service, often in cooperation with churches from other denominations! It's a lot of fun!

Instead of trying to host your own Passover seder (I have a horror story about this that I will refrain from sharing out of respect for my Jewish friends), just celebrate Easter like the rest of us! Easter, not Christmas, is the most important day in the Christian liturgical year. There are MANY ways to celebrate Easter in a more "traditional" way than you might be used to.

Celebrating Hanukkah as a Christian makes you look fucking stupid! Don't do it! Instead, if you want a multi-day traditional Christian observance, our things are the seasons of Advent and Christmastide! Again, depending on your cultural background, there are lots of ways to "practice Christianity" around this time. Fasting (similar to fasting during Lent) and lighting the candles on an Advent wreath are easy ways to start.

Don't try to observe Torah, that's not our thing! If you want to practice more "rules," consider trying out one of the many Christian fasting traditions (NOT the "Daniel Fast," which is basically a crash diet attached to some very bullshit theology), praying the Daily Office or using prayer beads, or wearing a head-covering in church. ("But I'm not Catholic," you might say, but if you do some research you'll discover that none of these things are unique to Catholics! You're not Jewish either, but that's not stopping you from messing around with their stuff!)

Before you come at me with excuses about this not being "biblical" or whatever, keep in mind that many Jewish observances are also not "biblical"! If you really want to try out a Jewish holiday, you should make a Jewish friend and let them invite you, but it's pretty hard to make Jewish friends if you're constantly trying to steal their shit! (The last 2000 years of Jewish-Christian relations are hard proof of this!)

#christianity #judaism #religion #culture

[missmaywemeetagain]

Miles to Go Before I Sleep--a Scarf Exclusive 🌺💙🧣

A ✨minor miracle✨ happened, and I was able to finally write something somewhat cohesive for the first time in what feels like forever...

if you want to check out this Aloha from Hawaii themed Pink Scarf Universe story, join us HERE on Patreon! 🎉

(I'm hoping to have enough energy/inspiration after 5 weeks of illness to write something for everyone soon!💕)

(and thanks to @be-my-ally for the Pinterest collage tips!! 💋)

TW: references to period-related health, diet/ED, and drug issues, mentions of Dr. Nick, passing mention of Jack, Elvis' temper and how that brings up some things for Reader, cussing, baby talk, and of course a smidge of smutty smut 💋

Sneak Peek:

Very early morning, January 14th, 1973

This is bad, you think, buzzing with worry.

When you arrive in the dressing room, your heart pounds erratically in your chest, and not just from the massive, ground-breaking concert you just performed in or the roaring crowd in the arena. No, it’s when you look at your husband and see he’s looking through you, not at you. To be fair, he is distracted by the towel lobbed over his shoulders and the Mafia circling him with congratulations and pats on the back. Telling yourself that’s all it is, you snake your way through the guys and to his side.

“Elvis. Elvis, honey?” you whisper at him, trying not to yank on his bejeweled American Eagle suit with too much force. It was already heavy enough before he spent a few hours sweating in it, and now you guess it’s ten pounds heavier by the way it sticks to him and weighs him down.

“Hmmm?” he murmurs back at you, then finally seems to register your presence. “Oh, here’s my girl.” He squeezes you into his side and for the slightest moment you feel reassured, but the hug feels superficial and weak compared to how he once embraced you so tight you thought he’d never let you go.

He’s usually wired and riding high after a performance by this point. Instead, he seems exhausted and uncharacteristically out of it.

The itch inside you to pull him away and ask if he’s okay is so strong it makes your fingers tingle. You know doing such a thing now could perhaps hurt his ego, so you bite your tongue for the moment. But the way he lets you go and seemingly brushes you off has you grinding your teeth.

Stepping away, you tear off your own suit jacket, throwing it over a chair back and roasting from the inside out, even though it’s monumentally cooler in here than it was under all those lights on stage. Worry and brewing anger will do that.

The guys are sycophantically praising Elvis’ performance, and he nods along, not quite absorbing the words based on his blank expression. Perhaps you are just exhausted yourself because usually you would be singing his praises, too, but you know deep down it wasn’t his best show and that there is something fundamentally off about him.

He sinks down onto the sofa and a sense of relief washes through you. But you still feel on guard and uneasy. Maybe it’s the way Dr. Nick lingers in the corner, talking to Joe...

Click HERE to join and read the rest on Patreon! 🎉

Taglist Pt 1

@eliseinmemphis@russian-soft-bitch@tattywood

@sassanoe@thella @suspiciousmidge @hiddlepiddlediddlewiddle@carolinesbookworld @juggernort @aesthetic-lyss @stitchattacks @donnamarie23

 @littlebitofgreen@paigevis@bugg06@xhannahbananax03@artlover8992

@18lkpeters@frozenhuntress67@girlblogger2002@kendralavon7@misspresley

@be-my-ally @whositmcwhatsit @vintageshanny @ellie-24 @thatbanditqueen @powerofelvis @from-memphis-with-love

 @precious-lil-scoundrel @stylespresleyhearted @prompted-wordsmith @crash-and-cure @elvisgf @lookingforrainbows @fic-over-cannon @godlypresley @ab4eva @whatstruthgottodowithit @elvisabutler @amydarcimarie@idontwanttoputanything @callieselvisobsessed @captainamerica1235-blog  @xenaspace3-blog 

@simplyamberj@claire-elvisgirl@everythingelvispresley@louisejoy86@deniseinmn @madelynpresley

#miles to go before i sleep #a scarf exclusive #elvis x reader #elvis presley #elvis #if you’re looking for trouble #you came to the right place #elvis presley x reader #elvis x y/n #elvis fic #elvis smut #elvis presley fanfiction #elvis fanfic #elvis fanfiction #elvis presley smut #elvis presley x y/n #aloha from hawaii #elvis 1973

[maries-gallery]

Rio, Licht, Clavis and/or Nokto comforting mc when she’s having rlly rlly bad period cramps? I feel like Rio would be the absolute best at this ;;

Hi anon! Am sorry to hear you struggle with bad period cramps, I do too and know just how bad and incapacitating these can be :,) So I hope this can bring even the slightest bit of comfort!

Am going to sound like an old woman but a few things that work for me during this time of the month is to cancel coffee from my diet (as for some reason I find it makes cramps worse?), eat chocolate for the magnesium and try to add ginger to your diet too (it's full of good nutrients and actually really helps me personally). ANYWAYS ON WITH THE REQUEST!

(Keep in mind that I've undergone surgery like two days ago so don't know if this will be perfect writing, but I gave it my all <3)

RIO:

Rio just knows. 

He knows when your periods are around the corner before you even notice the changes in your own body. How? Because he tracks your periods, to be ready when the first signs of discomfort show themselves on your face. 

However this doesn’t prevent Rio’s heart from tightening in his chest every time he catches sight of you, crouched down and holding onto your stomach as cramps crash over you, features twisted in agonizing pain. 

And he wishes he could take your place, take away your pain and make it his own. As he hates seeing you like this. He knows there is close to nothing he can do to relieve you of mother nature’s burden. 

So Rio does his best to make this time of the month easier on you, less painful. Scooping you up in his arms and carrying you over to your room as soon as he catches sight of a pained frown between your brows. 

“I believe it is time for my mistress to lie down, isn’t it?” He says with a comforting smile, leaving no room for argument. His lips pressing a peck to your forehead as you snuggle up in his arms. 

You know it’d be useless to fight against your lover anyways, as once Rio has set his mind onto taking care of you, there is no denying him. He will take care of you, and you will let him.

All day long he remains by your side, ready to tend to your each and every needs. Anything you might need brought to you on a silver plate that he places on your bedside table. Painkillers, a glass and pitcher filled with fresh water, your favourite hot beverage that is not caffeine and some chocolate. Of course Rio hasn’t forgotten some extra pillows for comfort too, although he wouldn’t mind if you used him instead. 

Only ever leaving your side to refill the pitcher or cook you something he knows you'll like, something that warms the soul and bones.

He also knows you are probably worried about work, but not to fret, he took care of this as well and let Sariel know in advance that you’d probably be incapacitated for a few days. So Rio took it upon himself to claim your tasks as his in the meantime. By your side during the day and out taking care of your workload once the sun sets. 

Of course these weeks are always intense for him, taking care of both you and himself. But for your smile and happiness, Rio would gladly take on the world. 

“I’ve got you.” He says, cupping your cheek in his hand, placing a kiss to the corner of your lips. “You just stay here and rest. I am taking care of everything.” 

LICHT:

The first time he is confronted to your cramps, poor Licht is clueless.

Of course his heart aches to see you like this, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes as you twist and turn in bed in an attempt to alleviate your pain. His stomach falling over as another tortured groan comes from your throat. 

He remembers this one time Yves mentioned how sweets could make up for everything though, and he did hear that chocolate could help during that time of the month from Nokto. And although Licht is less than confident in his abilities in the baking department, he will try anything to bring a smile back to your lips. 

Even if it means destroying the kitchen and giving poor Yves a heart attack in the process. 

Fortunately though, the fifth prince is more than happy to help if it means giving a hand to his brother and relieving you of your pain. 

Licht spends the whole afternoon in the kitchens, listening to Yves’s advice as he chops chocolate and cuts fresh strawberries. Mixing melted chocolate with cloud egg whites, combining it into an even mousse and putting it into a bowl for you, placing the cut berries on top for a touch of summer and a pop of colour. 

Something simple and tasty, light and comforting. And something he knows will bring the grin he loves oh so much to your face.

So after putting the bowl on a tray with a glass of water and some painkillers, Licht goes up to your room, eager to soothe your pain and be back at your side. 

And his heart sings when you bring the spoon to your lips and manage a smile, when you finish the bowl and pop the last piece of strawberry in your mouth. But Licht also knows that nothing beats him lying next to you and hugging you close, the warmth of his hand on your belly to chase away the pain. 

The two of you falling asleep in each other’s arms, your cramps fading away in your lover’s embrace. 

CLAVIS:

As much as Clavis loves to share his exploits in the kitchen with his dear brothers and you, the love of his life, he knows that a trip to the kitchen would be the very last thing to do to relieve you of your pain. Making you sick with his concoctions would be the very last thing to do. 

So Clavis makes sure to take care of you in other ways, by keeping you happy and entertained, and healthy. 

Much like Rio, Clavis knows when your periods are about to start, not because he tracks them but because he is incredibly perceptive, especially when it comes to you, his darling. And no change in your behaviour or body goes by unnoticed by his attentive gaze. 

So when he knows the time is coming, he makes sure to get any work he might have for the week out of the way, diligent and efficient as ever in his tasks. As he won’t have anything standing between the two of you when you need him. 

He makes time for you, even if it means sacrificing days and nights for him to be by your side when the first cramps hit. 

“Didn’t you have work?” You ask, as he settles in bed beside you, draping an arm around your shoulders to let you lean against his chest. 

“Work? What work? My only job here is to make my darling fiancee feel better.” He answers with a smile that intimates you to just trust him. And you do, snuggling up to his side as his lips fall to your hairline for a kiss. “Now, where do we start? Has my darling drunk her water today?” 

Of course you haven’t, and that is why Clavis came prepared with a glass of water and some pain killers at the ready. 

“You know my dear, if you do not drink the cramps won’t get any better. And coffee does not count.” 

He remains by your side all day and all night, entertaining you with jokes and stories of his latest pranks played on poor Yves, with sweets he sneaked into his pockets from the kitchen. And with kisses stolen when you fall asleep in his arms. 

NOKTO:

Nokto has dealt with his fair share of women, and for the first time he actually sees this as a chance. As it gives him the upper hand when dealing with your cramps.

Nokto knows what he is dealing with, knows what works and what does not.

He knows that pain killers are a must, all whilst knowing that letting you snuggle up to him in bed works just as much. And his hands work wonders on your cramps as they rest on your stomach and lightly massage the pain away. The heat of his palm spreading a comforting peace through your limbs as you relax in his arms. 

“Does it feel good?” He asks, arms around you as your head rests back on his shoulder, cocooned in his embrace. 

You answer with a light hum, eyes closed as you let his hands wash away the pain. And the softest of smiles graces the corners of his lips as he gazes down at you. 

However, Nokto isn't a stranger to the benefits of intercourse and pleasure on period cramps either, and if you are feeling up to it he is more than eager to relieve you of your pain with his talented fingers and tongue. 

Blood will not stop him, he does not care.

Your lips fall open in a sigh, Nokto's fingers slowly edging up your thigh as he holds you from behind, a towel neatly laid underneath you.

“Just lie down and let me do the work, okay?” He whispers in your ear, pressing a kiss to your temple, "I promise this will feel good. And if you want to stop, just say the word."

He takes his time unravelling you, coaxing your release out of you, digits curving over your sweetest spot and thumb drawing gentle circles on your sensitive bud.

Until you either ask of him to stop or the cramps fade away replaced by the warmth of pleasure.

taglist: @aquagirl1978 @randonauticrap @pockcock @rhodolitesrose (some Clavis content for you <3) @candied-boys @altairring @outofthepapers (Rio fans for the win <3)

star banner by the wonderful @/saradika

#ikemen prince #ikemen prince fanfic #ikemen prince fanfiction #ikemen prince headcanons #ikepri #ikepri fanfic #ikepri fanfiction #ikepri headcanons #ikepri fluff #ikemen prince fluff #ikemen prince nokot #ikemen prince nokto klein #ikemen prince licht #ikemen prince licht klein #ikemen prince rio #ikemen prince rio ortiz #ikemen prince clavis #ikemen prince clavis lelouch #ikepri rio #ikepri rio ortiz #ikepri clavis #ikepri clavis lelouch #ikepri nokto #ikepri nokto klein #ikepri licht #ikepri licht klein #ikemen series #ikemen cybird #ikemen games #ikemen fanfic

[kekaki-cupcakes]

BONJOUR (〃^ω^〃)

if your requests are open and if you so feel like, I would LOVE (♥ω♥*) to hear your Connor Stoll HCS whether misc or x reader related I care very little, I just want more content of my fav.

Sincerely eternally yours - anon.

ciao! ヽ( 'ω' )ﾉ

Hey I know you requested this ages ago sorry about that. I've also decided to answer requests in order of which one I like the idea of the most instead of time because I feel like I'm stuck on a few old ones lol

Also this was so fun to write and I ended up writing a short story at one point or smthn.

Conner Stoll Headcanons

»»————-　★　————-««

-He sometimes forgets Travis isn’t really his twin.

-As do most people that know them. 

-He’s so sick of the jokes about his last name he and Travis just pretend to not understand anymore.

-The poison sprayed T-shirt given to the Hunter Phoebe, stopping her from going on the quest to save Annabeth wasn’t just a prank on the stern girl. It was on purpose, so that Percy could go instead, but no one really realized that.  

-Once he moved to New York years after the books ended, he rented a flat with a smashed in window and a leaky bathtub. He had to live off one dollar pizza slices for about a year [he loved them] until he saved up and stole enough to afford a better flat with three bedrooms. One was for him, one was for Cecil, and one was for Katie when she visited with Travis. He has a bunk bed that he shares with Travis, but he makes his brother sleep on the top bunk like they did at CHB.

-Unknown to him, Travis’s room at Camp Jupiter has a bunk bed too, and he sleeps on the top every night. He’s studying Law. 

-Once Conner was able to pay rent by the deadlines and had steady shifts at work [and once his diet had gotten a bit better, although pizza slice Friday is a ritual] Chiron finally let Cecil move in.

-It was only really because Cecil wanted to go to highschool properly, and finish it this time instead of being chased from the year ten open day by feral harpy’s. He works at Starbucks part time and Conner drives him to every shift and then Iris messages CHB and talks to his friends in his car while he waits for Cecil to finish. 

-He’s actually really disappointed when Cecil buys a motorbike and doesn’t need lifts to Starbucks anymore, but then his little brother needs someone to pick him up because he crashed into a phone box and he’s back to annoyed chauffeurTM again.

-He owns the shittiest car ever, like, one of those falling apart pickup trucks with fluffy dice and he actually keeps it pretty clean because he’s so proud of it. He calls it ‘Mater’, from the movie Cars, because it’s Cecil’s favorite movie. It’s also covered in bumper stickers. Like, nearly every part of it, and people just hand them to him sometimes to fill in a gap. 

-He joined the local track team, and he’s actually pretty good.

-His guilty pleasure is Taylor Swift’s 1989 album and eating peanut butter MnM’s by the bag even though he hates real MnM’s.  

-He never really wanted to go to University, and the strictness of Camp Jupiter would’ve killed him, so he got a job at the lolly store Sally used to work at, but was fired when he let too many little kids shoplift. 

-Now he’s working at a backpackers lodge instead, and he actually really likes meeting all the traveling people that come through, even though he knows it’s because of his dad. His relationship with Hermes is questionable, mainly because of Luke. 

-He loved his brother but after the Titan war and all the shame put on their cabin he hated Luke with a passion, as did most of his siblings, even if they sort of did understand why he did it all anyway. Conner wouldn’t have joined the Titan Army, but he knows that if the majority of Camp Halfblood was to stage something like that again he probably would. He’s loyal to his siblings and friends, not the gods. 

-Chris Rodriguez agrees on that part. They’ve talked about it a lot. 

-Chris stayed over on the fold out couch enough for him to get a toothbrush in the bathroom and his favorite cereal in the pantry, which is weet-bix bites with honey and blueberries [if someone went to the shops for something other than pink monster energy drinks and grain waves]. He stills lives at Camp Half-blood with Clarrise most of the time and he’s going to University online but has to come in once or twice a week for tests and practical classes. He wanted to be a paramedic but he knew that would be too much stress on him and so would being a therapist.

-Chris is studying nursing and catches a ride with Pollux [who is studying to be a paramedic] sometimes.  

-Then Pollux began staying over sometimes as well.

-And of course there were times when Clarrise would come into the city with her boyfriend to find late night underground fight clubs and visit Coach Hedge [he was the satyr that brought her to CHB].

-Six months pass and Conner’s apartment is a mini Camp Halfblood stop by.

-This is confirmed when Lou Ellen bursts in at three am with a hellhound on her heels and the app Malcom Pace had invented that directed demigods to nearby safe havens when they were in danger.                                                                                                               She explained that his flat had come up and she needed to talk to Austin [who was sleeping on the couch] about how somebody from his cabin had stolen her voodoo doll of Will that they liked to tickle while he was stitching someone up in the Infirmary. 

-He’s accepted it now but sometimes when a random kid shows up covered in blood he sends them to Sally’s apartment [she’s on the app as well]. There’s only so many blow up mattresses and showers long enough to scrub monster grit off a twenty something year old can afford. 

-He gets promoted at the traveler’s lodge, and ends up sending a lot of demigods, nymphs, and satyrs there as well. 

-Chris’s nursing skills help out a lot more than they were hoping.

-So does having Pollux the paramedic on speed dial. 

-He pirates anything he watches, and his favorites are The Last Of Us and Ferris Bueller's day off. He is obligated to watch Cars at least once a week with Cecil, but his favorite Disney movie is The BFG [it used to be the Lion King but then Luke happened and it hit too far home]. 

-He also really liked watching The Hunger Games but then he realized what it reminded him of and now he steers clear. 

-That, and the fact the Castor and Pollux trope is used. 

-Conner hates musicals. 

»»————-　★　————-««

#pjo fandom #pjo #heroes of olympus #percy jackson #percy jackon and the olympians #Connor stoll #travis stoll #pjo headcanons #pjo minor characters #Conner stoll headcanons #the Stoll twins #hermes cabin

[viviangreeneart]

At The Foot of My Bed

                             

    I stood at the foot of my bed. I was wearing a dark blue suit I didn’t recognize. The material was clearly expensive and well-tailored, hinting to a fit, lean body underneath.  A neat, white handkerchief was folded with care in the suit jacket’s breast-pocket. Staring forward , my green eyes were not the usual unattractive mix of exhaustion and hatred, but of contentment and maybe a little joy. Dark circles, like permanent eye shadow, of which I had grown accustomed to had not claimed these eyes. No, at the foot of my bed, those eyes did not have sagging, purple-grey flesh clinging to the bottom of their sockets like loose, cooked chicken skin. This skin was pink and tight. This me could be in an advertisement for eye cream they looked so damn healthy. Oh, and my scar! Where was that? The right side of his lips were unblemished. Had I never met the enraged man at the bar? Had his class ring that glimmered in the light as it came crashing down on me, snagging my lip and tearing it apart, not existed? Or had I simply not goaded him into a fight to begin with?

  If I had fought the man with this body, I would’ve surely won. I hadn’t lifted any form of weight in decades and a vegetable had not graced my dinner plate in just as long. The body in front of me most likely thrived on a high protein diet with a substantial side of greens. Perfect me smiled warmly, revealing his pearly white, exceptionally aligned teeth. It was apparent he never missed a single dentist appointment. I self-consciously rubbed my tongue against the bottom row of my broken, grey teeth. I felt like Narcissus gazing into the pool, aside from the fact that I did not have the beauty that the me at the foot of my bed possessed.

“Honey,” a ragged, drained voice called out from just outside my bedroom, ripping me out of my visual love affair with Perfect Me.

   “Uh, yeah?” I shifted my body to the left so I could see down the hallway. I could just make out the silhouette of my wife leaning out the bathroom doorway. 

  “Did you lock all of the doors?”

  “Yes, of course,” I sighed. This was part of our routine. I would say yes even I forgot. I could always lock up during my midnight fridge raid.

  “Oh good,” she said, disappearing into the bathroom.

   My attention returned to Perfect Me. He had only folded his arms during the pointless discourse with my wife. Suddenly a thought occurred to me - what would Tammy think when she saw him? I was still processing this when she ambled into our bedroom, wrapped in her floral house coat. Tammy passed the well-groomed me without a glance, plopping onto the bed next to me. It creaked under her weight as she settled in, shuffling the sheets about. Perfect Me’s eyes followed her movements with palpable endearment. A light smile played upon his lips as he watched her grab a book from her bedside table and open it to where her bookmark had laid snug since the night before.

   I struggled to recall the last time I looked at her with any form of love. Tammy was comforting and sweet in personality, but she was very mundane. I didn’t dislike my wife, but I found no beauty in her, inside or out. However, this undeniably gorgeous version of me, reacted as though Ava Gardner had just sauntered into the room garbed in an extravagant dressing gown. It was perplexing to say the least.

  “You don’t mind if I read for an hour or so, do you?” Tammy asked, eyes already glued to her book.

 “No, of course not,” I replied. I wanted an excuse to keep the lights on anyway. I couldn’t lose sight of Perfect Me. I wanted to speak with him. To ask how and why he looked so good compared to the ghoulish version of me that was hunkered down in a sagging bed next to his mediocre wife. Was he handed better opportunities than me? A better family than the hostile, demanding one I had been presented with? Was he accepted at a proper University instead of the community college I begrudgingly applied to? He certainly had a successful career, as was evidenced by his suit. In this life, I had only rented suits for special occasions. Fortunately, I was rarely invited to any occasion.

  I needed to speak with him, but if I could I only see him, I would look like an idiot speaking to myself. Well, I would be talking to myself. As I struggled to form a plan to communicate with him, I felt the bed sink slightly near my feet. Perfect Me had planted a knee down onto the bed. Too stunned to move, I caught sight of Tammy in my peripheral vision. She was oblivious to Perfect Me’s sudden advancement, with her nose inches away from her book, mouthing the text as she read. Perfect Me then leaned forward, placing his left hand next to my knee. His right hand, which was free of a wedding ring, reached out. Without hesitation, I brought myself upward and gripped his outstretched hand. His flesh was so soft in comparison to the harshness of mine. He must have a job that has been very kind to them, or at very least he moisturizes on a daily basis. My heart swelled as I met his gaze. I no longer cared about the possibility of Tammy looking up to see me holding onto an invisible force. Perfect Me grinned, letting out an easy, melodious chuckle.

  “Would you like to trade?” he whispered.

  My mind went to a story I read in elementary school, the Prince and the Pauper. 

  “Absolutely,” I whispered back.

  “So be it.” His grin widened into a sneer as he yanked me directly into him. 

   Bracing for a collision that never happened, I found myself on my back on the bedroom floor. Sitting up, I rubbed my forehead in an attempt to reorient myself. As I temporarily became distracted by how heavenly my skin felt, an unnatural itch crept throughout my body. I glanced down and saw the expensive suit Perfect Me had worn. It looked so comfortable on him, but on me, it felt like tiny bugs were burrowing their way into my skin. I tugged and pried erratically at the buttons of the jacket to no avail. It was like it was now a part of my skin. Or rather, it was my skin.

  Above, muffled voices broke me briefly from my turmoil. I jerked around and realized I was in front of my bed. Moving to my knees now, I peered upwards. I saw my old self in bed with Tammy. Hideous Me, with the horrific scar and the unfit body. They were deep in conversation. She giggled at whatever nonsense he was spouting. Her book lay abandoned on her lap.

   He pointed to her book and she nodded, giving a him a sugary sweet smile. As her eyes drifted away from him to the book, Hideous Me’s eyes shifted over to meet mine. He winked then returned his attention to my wife. I cried out to her, but could only release pitiful croaks as I fought against my suddenly weakened and dry vocal cords. I banged my fists on the bed as my warnings fell on deaf ears. I doubled over as blinding pain tore through my body. I silently whimpered, as I could no longer create sound. Despite it all, I shakily rose to my feet. Maybe after sometime I could convince whatever I traded places with to switch back. He will eventually regret inhabiting my old, misshapen body with my boring bookworm of a wife. Surely he will, I thought, as I watched him kiss her.

    I stood at the foot of my bed.

#Short story #horror #Horror story #doppleganger

[crystalsnow95z]

a masterlist. a very bad one at that.

I didn’t realize how many things I’ve created, so I’m going to try to give them some sort of organization. I hope this helps you find my writings. It's more of a click and discover type list with vague descriptions.

If you want to help add more to this list, then just ask. I'm very active on here. I will write any sick/whump/comfort fic but i do not do romance with the boys and am not into mpreg writings. Actually, romantic stories aren't really much my style, but I'm able to write them. I guess it depends on my mood if I'll do it.

I'm sorry I don't do requests in order they are received. I do them when inspiration comes. Lately, I've been in a depressed state so I'm not writing as quick as I usually do.

Namjoon sic fic

Namjoon pushes harder than his body can handle, leaving him stress sick, No matter how hard he tries to hide how he feels his body has other plans. 

https://www.tumblr.com/crystalsnow95z/713279136921223168/sickie-namjoon-caretaker-ot7-warning-vomit

Namjoon finds himself suffering from a bad bout of food poisoning in the middle of an award show, but Namjoon is too stubborn to sit this one out even though he really should..

J-hope finds Namjoon sick in his studio and takes him home to take care of him. Has two parts one

and two

A ridiculously long story I made about feverish Namjoon with a stomach bug

Namjoon wanted a relaxing evening with his family after a long schedule.. but his stomach has other plans his family bonding ending up in the bathroom caring for him

Crash diet Joon who ends up fainting...

Namjoon injured during award show

Jungkook sic fic

Jungkook throwing up at the airport with Jin caring for him

https://www.tumblr.com/crystalsnow95z/713810369832943616/a-request-i-was-given-i-wanted-to-try-something?source=share

My only y/n(girl) type story I wrote. Jungkook takes Bam out for a walk, getting caught in the rain, returning home soaking wet. guess who got sick?

https://www.tumblr.com/crystalsnow95z/714190329223479296/time-for-another-sick-fic-this-time-jin-is

jungkook finds himself with a bad cold during a trip. Jin wants to stay to care for him instead of enjoying the trip, but Jungkook won’t have it. This is a part 1. part two continues with:

 Taehyung sic fic

https://www.tumblr.com/crystalsnow95z/715457159704477696/technically-a-continuation-of-another-story-but?source=share

Taehyung hides his sickness to go out with the other members to a festival, hiding it because they already had one sick member at home. When the festival ends he ends up getting separated from the others…

https://www.tumblr.com/crystalsnow95z/716797585415864320/hobi-was-watching-taehyungs-return-from-mexico?source=share

Taehyung has just returned from Mexico from his overseas shoot of Jinnys kitchen. J-hope is concerned when he sees him at the airport, knowing his members well enough to know something was wrong.

https://www.tumblr.com/crystalsnow95z/711733029447647232/a-letter-from-armyteahyung-sickie?source=share

my first sick fic i wrote with Namjoon trying to awkwardly take care of a very sick Tae. continues with:

https://www.tumblr.com/crystalsnow95z/723875805806149632/httpswwwtumblrcomcrystalsnow95z7117330294476?source=share

this one is not a sick fic but a comfort fic full of Taehyung’s anxiety and the other members trying to comfort the crying vocalist. He just held in so much that it overflowed

https://www.tumblr.com/crystalsnow95z/712655480684707840/just-a-quick-write-because-im-feeling-really-low?source=share

What he thought was just allergies turns out to be the sneezesist cold of his life leaving him miserably stuffed up, but worry. Jinnie hyung is here for him

Not my usual writing style, so please keep that in mind. Taehyung has a scary encounter with a crazed 'fan' when he leaves home to get medicine for his cold leaving him terrified, contacting the golden mankae who's often up at 2am. Jungkook tries his best to care for his ailing hyung

An annon request on a more touchy subject. Dieting/malnutrition. Taehyung double booked himself to hang out with Jimin and to do a photoshoot. Jimin tags along with him and notices Taehyung isn't looking so good.. vomit included in story.

Just a car sick Tae.

Nothing but a feverish Tae being cared for by his hyungs

Taehyung unable to control his cough.. Yoongis worry only making things worse..

Yoongi sick fic

https://www.tumblr.com/crystalsnow95z/714522495215075328/ill-be-back-soon-just-went-to-the-store?source=share

Yoongi has never felt so awful in his life, the flu leaving him unable to even sit up on his own. Taehyung finds him tries to nurse the clingy rapper back to health.

https://www.tumblr.com/crystalsnow95z/713549466344521728/i-want-sope-sicfic-yoongi-has-gotten-sick-but?source=share

a very short sick yoongi story of Yoongi getting stress sick J-hope catching him trying to hide his sick..but ends up comforting him as he vomits.

https://www.tumblr.com/crystalsnow95z/722738369596162048/may-i-request-a-carsick-yoongi-i-love-your-fics?source=share

a very carsick yoongi is taken care of my Namjoon, holding him tight as he vomits, Taehyung taking over after. youre better off clicking the links. sorry.

https://www.tumblr.com/crystalsnow95z/724117853715972096/drabble-written-within-two-hours-just-because?source=share

Yoongi finds himself with a bad cold right in the middle of a tour, but doesn't want to give into it. It leaves him with a bad cough and headache that leaves him weak and dizzy. Can he push through?

Honestly, I don't know how I'd describe this, it's a car accident that messes with Yoongi emotionally, pushing his body to it's limits by filling him with bad dreams. A dash of Car sick vom*t.. mostly just a scared kitty.. part 2 below

https://www.tumblr.com/crystalsnow95z/726502269896556544/trigger-warning-car-accident-hospital-stay-and?source=share

Emeto Yoongi with Jin and Hobi as caregivers

J-hope fics

J-hope is terrified of haunted houses..

okay it’s not a sick fic it’s a comfort fic this time. J-hope got injured during practice, finding himself unable to walk. Yoongi notices that J-hope didn’t show up for practice and goes to check on him.

https://www.tumblr.com/crystalsnow95z/716444862533206017/if-you-made-it-to-the-end-thank-you-very-much?source=share

J-hope loses his voice during a concert. A performers worst nightmare..

Stuck sneezes J-hope..

Wheezing cough J-hope

Hobi with a persistent cough and fever, trying to push through a concert he just can't get through...

Hobi tries to push through a concert despite a cough he just keeps getting worse..

Jimin sic fics

https://www.tumblr.com/crystalsnow95z/712263743800819712/a-request-from-a-friend-of-mine-prompt-jimin-has?source=share

Jimin woke up not feeling well at all, canceling his plans to play games with Taehyung to try to sleep it off. What he didn’t expect was Taehyung to knock on his door, coming to nurse him back to health.

Jimin had a little accident while riding horses with the other members, leaving him with a nearly unbearably sore rib cage and an open window in the middle of the night adds a cold to the mix. Snzy fic

Another sneezey Jimin request. That's it

https://www.tumblr.com/crystalsnow95z/725450939656470528/request-on-the-way-to-dance-practice-jimin-gets?source=share

This, ah..This one's more of a psyche story where Jimin gets taken, beaten and emotionally abused. The other members are there to pick him back up. This here is part 2.

Jimin tries to push through run bts, but his body has other plans.. snz cold.

Jimin visits Yoongi to work on a song, but Yoongi forgets his cat is there, setting off his dongsaeng's allergies to cats

Request for a sneezy Jimin at a fanmeet

Jimin having a bad cold during a UN performance

Jimin and Hobi doing a live together after a concert, but Jiminie is super sneezy

Taekook sic fic

https://www.tumblr.com/crystalsnow95z/713279128247435265/another-sic-fic-just-because-i-love-writing-got?source=share

Taehyung wakes up from a bad dream, feeling sick with a cold and scared but when he goes to Jimin for cuddles, Jimin wasn’t in his room, he was busy taking care of another ailing member. Jungkook. 

Taejoon sic fic

Taehyung and Namjoon get sick after a night walk, but still try to push through the run bts episode the next morning. Tw: emeto towards the end. Halloween themed

2seok sic fic

https://www.tumblr.com/crystalsnow95z/715049999286878208/a-quick-write-that-turned-longer-than-i-expected?source=share

the boys are on a trip and go hiking, but unknown to them, the meal they had gave two members food poisoning leaving them vomitting all the way down the mountian. Tw: the only story I have that has SCAT

jin sick fic

a writing prompt i saw that really inspired me by  @btshurtcomfortprompts  it hardly follows it in the beginning, but I still love it.

https://www.tumblr.com/crystalsnow95z/723601046817177600/its-time-to-write-some-long-drabble-without-any?source=share

A sneeze fic where Jin thinks he might be allergic to Yeotan..

Taekookhope

Probably the only one that'll ever be in this category unless someone requests it.

An emeto story I wrote just for my own pleasure that I'm sharing with you ;)

Misc ot4-7 with sick

It started as a request for mentally tired Jimin, but Jin, Namjoon and Taehyung ended up with cold symptoms and everyone is mentally exhausted in different levels..

#masterlist #bts boys #bts #bts taehyung #bts jungkook #bts sickfic #bts namjoon #bts sickie #bts fanfic #bts jhope #bts jimin #sick!fic #sick boy #kpop sickfic

[tessathegamefreak]

Sugar Rush Inktober Day #8: Cozy

The air was humid deep in the Diet Cola Mountains. No matter the temperature outside, it was always toasty inside, thanks to the bubbling, acidic brew

And yet, despite all that, the “Glitch” of Sugar Rush still felt cold inside.

Kane Candy shivered, as he wrapped the wrapper blankets around him. Once again, he couldn’t sleep. Every time he tries, he is always woken up by a crash.

He went over to the shelf, figuring a snack would help him calm his nerves, but before he could bite into the gumdrop like it was an apple, he couldn’t help but to admire its shade of blue. No doubt, this shade of blue reminded him of the coworkers he once called his frenemies.

He was about to shrug it off and proceed with his midnight snack, but instead, he grabbed the matching gumdrop and began to draw over it with sticky icing. He wasn’t much of an artist or a sculptor, but each simple line he drew was heartfelt, He sat himself down, as he held little coal candies in his hands. He stuck the coal candies to the first gumdrop like they were eyes. Kane smiled to himself as he could see a slight resemblance to a twin

“Heh. Now, you are misthing something”, he says to himself, as he drew grumpy little eyebrows on it. “There! That’th the Blas’t Nitro I know! Now, it’th your brotherth turn~”

As Kane placed the coal candies on the second gumdrop, he could feel the tears begin to well. Doing this filled him with a joy, but deep down, he is hurting. He is doing his very best to ignore that he was the reason they are gone now.

“… Thome day, you’ll both get to laugh at me again…”, he sniffled with a hopeful smile, placing the final eye onto Kane’s interpretation of Boost Nitro.

With that done, Kane places both twin gumdrops down, and sits in front of them. He sat there, watching them as though he hoped to see them move. He did this until he fell asleep. For the first time in decades, no reoccurring nightmares came.

@dorkaarts

#wreck it ralph #fix it felix au! #kane candy #fix it felix #sugar rush au #wreck it ralph fanart #wreck it ralph turbo #wreck it ralph king candy #wreck it ralph au #alternate universes #sugar rush speedway #sugar rush #sugar rush inktober 2023 #sugar rush inktober #inktober day 8 #inktober 2023 #inktober 2023 day 8 #sugar rush inktober 2023 day 8 #cozy #digital artwork #digital drawing #digital art #no lineart