#last year i kept all my feelings to myself and i almost died . | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

newtonsheffield · 2 months

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we need to see bodyguard au Kate and Anthony on their ski trip for spicy Sunday!! Plsss! 😂

Okay, this one’s a little less sad than the last one. I feel like I owe it to them

This was what she’d imagined. Well, almost? Or nearly? Truth be told she hadn’t had any idea what it would be like to actually be able to hold someone’s hand in public. She hadn’t even thought about it, in fact she’d been nearly affronted by it when James had stood in front of her, his hands on his hips.

“You’re never going to ask them are you?!”

Kate had blinked at him, her boyfriend of years “Ask who what?”

“You’re never going to ask your parents to acknowledge me are you? Or take me to events or anything?!”

“James, please can we just not have this conversation?”

“Are we ever going to have it?”

“I don’t know.” Kate had crossed her arms and tried not to let her voice wobble, “Do you actually want me? Or do you want what it will get you?”

He’d stared at her for a long moment before he let out a frustrated growl, “This was so not fucking worth it. You need to grow the fuck up, Kate. Stop caring what Appa thinks of you.”

“Oh fuck you!” Everyone around them had turned to stare and he’d pushed back through the crowd as tears had started to cloud her vision.

“Princess.” Anthony had said gently, his hand on her arm. “Would you like to go home?”

She hadn’t been able to do anything but nod. Anthony had surprised her when he’d shrugged off his jacket and held it out to her.

“In case you want a little privacy.” He smiled a little sadly as he crouched in front of her, his muscles flexed giants the white of his shirt and the holster of his gun. “Want me to run after him and fight him?”

Kate tried to chuckle and she ducked her head under the cover of his jacket. “No, thank you, Anthony. You’re sweet.”

“That’s my job, your highness.”

She’d let more tears fall as she sat in the back of the car and she’d said what she’d been thinking for far longer than she’d like to admit. “No one’s ever going to love me just for me are they?”

But Anthony had. Anthony did. despite the fact that she was the reason he had nearly died, Anthony did. And she’d stood in front of her father and mother with Anthony’s sweatshirt on. She’d inclined her head in a small bow.

“Appa, have the dramatics of yesterday gotten to you? The throne room seems a little formal. I’m surprised you’ve not got your crown on.”

“I told you.” Mary sighed from her place on a chair set apart from her father, “Are you alright, Darling?”

“I’m fine, Mumma.”

“Kate, this isn’t something to laugh about.” Her father said, pinching the bridge of his nose. “How long has this been going on?”

Kate had tried not to look away from him, “A few months.”

“How many months is a few, Katie?” He’d only looked tired.

“Six.” She’d muttered, her eyes sliding to the floor, “It’s been six months.”

“Six months?!” Her father spluttered, “Jesus Christ Katie!”

“Well it just sort of happened Appa!”

“Oh to just happened? For six months it just kept happening?!”

“This doesn’t sound like the calm, rational conversation we discussed.” Mary sighed, kissing her daughter’s cheek, “He’s handsome, sweetheart. And so brave, I really should send him some-”

“Mary, please!”

“Well, we agreed we’d be supportive, Tharman! One of us needs to be! This is our child!”

“I’m trying very hard! Katie, why wouldn’t you just tell me?”

She’d felt those same, inadequate tears then and it had tasted bitter even when she’d said it. “I have lived my entire life for this country and I’ll live the rest of it for it as well. Just like you have and your parents did and their parents.”

“Katie.” He sighed, “I’m sorry. I know how difficult this is-”

“I don’t want you to be sorry, Appa! I’m happy to do it. I just… I finally had something for myself. All I wanted was this one… I just…I knew if I told you about him that it would be over and I just wanted to keep him. I love him and he loves me. Not this person just… me. And I wanted to keep him. Is that so wrong?”

Her father’s smile was a soft little thing, “Then your mother’s new little heartthrob has a decision to make.”

It seemed so surreal in the first few days of their relationship as they tried to fumble through Anthony’s first awkward meeting with her father, and his mother’s barbed remarks that had cut a little closer to who she was worried she was deep down. But it had grown into something beautiful between them, when it was allowed into the sunlight. It was nice to have someone’s support, to be able to support him the same way when he came home tired and frustrated from physio with his arm back in its sling.

“Shower?”

Anthony nodded slowly, “Yeah. It was… fucking hard today. Am I supposed to celebrate the fact that I can lift my arm a centimetre? and that might be all I ever get?”

“Anthony, that’s amazing.”

He let out a half smile, “I was lying, it was half a centimetre. I just wanted you to be impressed with me.”

Kate gasped, reaching under her shirt to tug off her underwear, “Mr Bridgerton, I’m very impressed, my knickers just flew off.”

He shook his head, bending at the knees and hoisting her over his good shoulder. “I had better do something about that then, Princess.”

She loved being Anthony’s partner. She loved their playful back and forth and the way he smiled when he saw his younger brothers and sisters. She loved everything about him, everything about the way they walked around with their fingers intertwined and he ducked his head so she could nudge his sunglasses into place so he wouldn’t have to let go of her hand. Even this morning he’d been so adorable, sweating nervously in the snow as he fidgeted with his helmet And it had been nice to not worry who saw them when they kissed in the snow and walked back to their cabin. It was nice now, sitting on the sofa in front of the fire, bundled up under a blanket, his arm around her waist, lips on her neck.

“This is nice.”

Anthony chuckled, “Baby, I’m not moving to Switzerland. Even though I’ve definitely mastered snowboarding now. I’ll probably be in the Winter Olympics soon. You might have trouble holding onto me when the… board…bunnies see me.”

Kate gawped at him, “What the fuck are board bunnies?”

“I imagine that’s what women who fawn over us extreme sports guys.”

Kate laughed, turning to face him properly, enjoying the way he leaned into the touch of her fingers throw his hair. “Oh you extreme sports guys, hey?”

“Yeah,” Anthony sighed, leaning back, “Me and Josie just ripping up the slopes.”

Kate nodded, moving to straddle him. “You and Josie? Josie who’s been skiing since she could walk? Josie whose mother is literally an Olympic Slalom Champion? You feel you’re on the same level?”

Anthony sighed, “Well, I’m the best in my class, I have to imagine we’re the same.”

“I love you.” Kate sighed, leaning in to kiss him gently. “You’re silly.”

“Very silly,” Anthony chased her lips with his, “Wanna be my board bunny, Princess? I’m willing to put you on the roster early

Kate rolled her eyes, “Go on then.”

He leaned forward to claim her lips again, his hand warm on her thigh as his tongue swept over hers slowly. It was so different from how it had been the first few times between them, where his zip had been pulled down and his hand had cushioned her head against the back of the door as their hips slammed together desperately.

The tension built between them slowly now, both of them revelling in it. The way his tongue moved over hers and his hand slipped over her body, tugging at her clothes. She loved the way their bodies fitted together and his skin was warm when it slipped against hers, the warm muscles of his chest under her fingers.

His hair was so soft against her fingertips when his lips fell to her neck and her hips started rocking against his.

“God, get on the fucking rug.”

Kate chuckled, kissing him once before she slid off his lap and shimmying out of her underwear before she lay on the rug. His body covered hers almost instantly his lips firm and hot against hers and his hand nudged her knees further apart as his lips trailed down her body, his tongue tracing patterns against his skin and she could hardly breathe for the look in his eyes. They were burning into hers as he looked up at her from between her legs, his voice rough.

“You’re so fucking beautiful, Princess.”

“Oh fuck.”

It choked from her throat at the first touch of his tongue and her hips bucked up towards him and she felt his lips curve in a grin against her. “Greedy tonight.”

The fire was so warm beside them and the fabric of the rug was soft against her back as her fingers slipped into his hair and anchored him against her. The way his tongue moved against her was almost sinful and she could feel herself moving closer and closer to the edge with every second that past between them until she was dangling over the edge, so close she could taste it.

“Not yet.”

Kate let out a moan at the loss of contact as Anthony sat up, grinning at her. He looked so handsome in the firelight with his hair mussed from her fingers and his eyes dark. The scars on his shoulder and chest made him look even more so, a reminder of the fact she’d nearly lost him, what he’d been willing to do for her.

“I hate you.”

Anthony leaned over her, letting his lips brush hers agin, forcing her to taste herself. “No you don’t Princess. You fucking love that I’m not like those stupid little lordlings that tried to impress you all the time don’t you?”

She felt herself nod against him, their tongues intertwined and her hips rocked against hers, desperate for friction.

“Turn around.”

She could hardly do it. Her knees already felt weak as his hand guided her to roll over, her back pressed against his chest. He didn’t make her wait. Anthonys’s hips snapped forward and Kate felt her eyes roll back at the feel of him. The feel of them.

Anthony let out a moan behind her and his hand gripped her shoulder, his thumb pressed against the back of her neck, guiding the sharp movements of their bodies. It was almost too hot with the fire burning so close to them and the burn in her muscles and the desperate way she was slowly being set on fire, just for him. She could feel her entire body tightening already as he rocked against her, his muscular thighs pressed against the backs of hers, and she could feel his fingers tightening against her skin the gasps and moans she was drawing from his body reverberating through her own, mingling with the broken sounds of his name that she could manage.

“Come for me, Kate.”

That was all it took. The rough sound of her name torn from his chest sent her falling over the edge with a sharp shout of his name, falling forward onto her forearms. Anthony’s hips bucked roughly against hers, the movements growing more erratic. once, twice, a third time and he fell apart with a stuttered moan, the moment stretching on and on until he fell forward against her, pressing her into the rug.

“I’ll move in a second.” Anthony murmured against her, his voice sleepy and satisfied as he pulled her closer, his lips kissing her as he gasped against her cheek.

“It feels nice.”

Anthony reached up and grabbed the blanket from the sofa, “Let’s sleep here. Think we can take this rug home?”

“Who’s liking being rich people now?”

“I like it a little bit.”

“You know,” Edwina hummed as she sat across from Kate at breakfast the next morning, watching Anthony walk off towards his lesson. “I think you’re supposed to catch up on sleep on holiday.”

Kate rolled her eyes, chuckling as Anthony watched Josie explain something as they headed towards the ski lift. “I’ve decided to take the route where we just fuck on a rug that’s going to be following us home.”

Edwina gaped a little disgustedly, “What the fuck did you do to the rug?”

Kate smirked “Oh you know, you’re a fellow board bunny. Gotta do what you gotta do.”

Edwina leaned forward, “Am I supposed to know what the fuck that means? Is it gross? Is it not? Do I want to do it?”

#bodyguard au #spicy sunday🌶️#kathony #anthony x kate #kate sharma #kate sheffield #anthony bridgerton #molly’s asks and answers

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houndofsevenhells · 23 days

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“Of Septons and Hounds” (Sandor Clegane x Original Female Character)

SUMMARY — A recently widowed impoverished spinster, who now finds herself at the Lannisters’ mercy, develops a strange relationship with the fearsome Hound. As the ten year long summer comes to an end, she tries to fight for the man she really wants, while dodging her good-brother's schemes to see her wed yet another elderly lord.

AUTHOR’S NOTE — This is my first ever work in this fandom, I hope I did my favourite fearsome Hound justice. English is not my first language so if you spot any mistakes that is my fault alone. Oh, and there’s also smut.

WORD COUNT — 3,391

Masterlist

The ten year long summer was coming to an end. I could feel it in my bones. Casterly Rock still stood tall and strong, as I suspected it would for another eight thousand years, but everything else around me was changing.

I was savouring a rare moment of peace and hid from the world in the alcove of the rose gardens. The round-petalled, sunset-coloured variety that grew here were my favourite, though of course the crimson ones planted at the very centre were the most magnificent. My good-brother Ser Damion once told me they were the pride and joy of Lady Joanna, and knowing his cousin Tywin I could certainly see why the gardeners worked so hard to keep these blooming all summer long.

As the recently widowed impoverished spinster, who now found herself at the Lannisters’ mercy, I hid in these gardens quite often–mostly to escape my good-brother’s schemes. One should hope his duties as the castellan of the Rock would have kept him busier…

I breathed deeply and felt my head swimming from the sweet scent of the roses. Somehow I knew the crimson ones smelled stronger as of late. I was sure they spoke of impending autumn winds. They had developed a startling, imposing scent that permeated almost the entirety of the gardens and it almost seemed like the flowers wanted to shine just one last time before they would inevitably wilt. Like the one last feast one would throw just before the first snowstorms.

“Well, then.” Suddenly, strong hands grasped my shoulders and I shot up from the bench I was resting on.

I was met with the half-burned face of Sandor Clegane; his ruined lips twisted in a mockery of a smile and his imposing frame blocking the sun from my view completely.

“Oh. It’s you.” I was clearly relieved.

No less confused than before, Sandor took a step closer.

“Who did you think it was?” he asked. His voice was broken glass, crunching under infantry iron boots.

“My brother,” I confessed easily. “He is getting fatter on his castellan purse, but is almost as tall as you, Ser Clegane.”

Immediately, Sandor snarled at the title, his grey eyes full of hate. But I stood there proudly, daring him to scold a high-born lady in public. I was riling him up and he knew it, but he let me all the same.

“Come.” His command was short; an order a captain of the guard would throw at a fellow soldier.

“Is that any way to talk to a lady, Clegane?”

He said nothing to that, just sent me another angry look over his shoulder and then kept walking. I stifled a laugh.

Unlike all those other guards prancing around the Rock in their gold shiny armours, Sandor’s black ring mail and boiled leather seemed to be quelling the sunshine around him.

Unable to help myself, I followed him inside the castle.

His long legs carried him quite a distance further and soon enough I found myself trotting behind him like an ungraceful pony.

“Is that any way for a lady to walk?” he grumbled, though there was mirth in those angry eyes and I grinned as soon as I saw it.

“Is that a jape I hear, Clegane? By the gods, it–” But the rest of that remark died in my throat as he pulled me into a dark corridor that ended with a spiral staircase. He went down and again, I followed.

“Where are we?” I inquired.

“Underneath the barracks.” His rasping voice drifted up to me. Once more, he was leading.

“Lovely,” I sighed and then simply kept following.

At the end of the staircase, there was an old door with an even older-looking lock, to which Sandor for some inexplicable reason produced a rust-covered key. He unlocked the door and it soon became apparent he must have been the first one to do it in quite a while. It took a formidable power to open it at all. I looked at how his muscles bulged under the dark sleeves of his tunic and against my better judgement I did not stop looking until he caught me in the act.

Without any niceties, Sandor took my hand and led me through the narrow passage, then firmly shut the door behind us; the rusty hinges straining under the task.

“I do appreciate the effort, Clegane, but if I should have to perish, I’d rather not do it under some aimless old stone that decides to drop on my head with–”

“You talk too much, woman.”

He grabbed me and soon my back was pressed against the cold stone wall. I did not necessarily mind. This was what I came there for; it was what I wanted and what Sandor kept giving me for the past year and a half.

I reached out blindly and when my hands found his face I pulled him closer for a kiss. He wouldn’t reciprocate at first, this much I knew, because such was our game. He would let me sense his humours and somehow through a simple touch and kiss I would read him like a book. I realised he would need it rough today and my body shivered with anticipation. I deepened the kiss and finally Sandor moved closer and started to unlace his breeches.

There was scarcely any light source in the old dungeon and I could barely see a thing. Regretful, giving my particular weakness for the sight of the man. Because Sandor was everything I could ever want from a man, even though he would never let me say it out loud.

But the noose around my neck was tightening. With the summer ending and Her Grace slowly packing to move back to King’s Landing with the children, I knew the proper mourning period after my late husband’s passing was over. As I had no remaining male relatives, Ser Damion Lannister was in charge of any dowry my puny cousin Crakehall branch could offer. Soon, the evil beast that married my sister would force me to wed once more–undoubtedly to another evil beast of his choosing.

“You are shaking, my lady.” The familiar raspy voice brought me back. I sighed because I enjoyed him calling me a lady quite as much as he liked to be called “ser”.

“It’s cold in here.”

“Aye.” He reached under my skirts and I gasped once he pulled down my smallclothes. “So let me make you warmer.”

Another sigh turned into a moan when he put two fingers inside me and curled them. He was not being rough to be cruel, but because he knew I could not stand a slow and tedious prelude.

“So wet,” he rasped into my ear, his breath hot against my skin. “Were you thinking of me all day?”

I could not smell the wine on him this time and I enjoyed the thought that he wanted to experience me sober. I always liked it better when he was not drinking and I thought the incentive for him was that our time together would last longer.

“Actually no, I–” I exhaled and let out a surprised chuckle as he grabbed my thigh firmly to lift up my leg. I rested it against his hip and he added another finger inside me–this time more smoothly.

“Cease your prattling, woman,” he grunted. “Does the dark frighten you so much? Or the creature you find yourself in the dark with?”

I let out another moan as his teeth nibbled at my neck.

The sensations were overwhelming. The stone wall was cold against my back, and the dank dungeon was not something I would call remotely romantic–it smelled of damp earth and rot, and to be truthful after a day of training in the yard, Sandor smelled no better.

As my eyes adjusted to the dark, I could see him sneering at me.

“Where in the seven hells are you?” He leaned in closer and as he replaced his fingers with his cock, I steadied myself by clutching his arms. “Because you sure ain’t here with me.”

“I am… thinking,” I whispered and it gave him a pretence to claim another kiss from my lips.

He knew me too well; such was the consequence of two souls connecting the way we have been doing. At first our dalliance was just a mutual understanding–but now it expanded and grew like a root, and despite our better judgement, we started to get to know one another.

“Stop thinking so much, woman,” he grumbled, his voice surely hoarse from yelling at incompetent recruits through all of the morrow. “Look at me. Look at me.”

I finally looked up and saw the faint outline of his face. His eyes no longer resentful, now they glinted with lust. I smiled as I understood the object of that lust was me.

“Go on then,” I mustered my best commanding tone and moaned as he squeezed my thigh harder in return.

The rough wall behind me, the strong arms I was clutching and Sandor’s hardness inside me all brought me back from whatever hell my mind had wandered to and I set my heart on the now. That is why we worked so well, I supposed. His roughness and my need for it paired together beautifully.

We were both close, I could feel it. Sandor let out a groan and I made myself tighten around him in response. I wished the moment could last longer, but I knew deep down all things that exist in darkness and privacy must one day come out to light.

I reached my peak first and nearly cried out–but Sandor was faster. He captured my lips in another harsh kiss, spilling inside me. I felt how his body tensed, pressed up against me. Still seeing stars, I let him release my leg back down, though I appreciated him still holding me close. I swore under my breath at how unsteady I felt and I heard Sandor chuckle. An oddly comforting thing, that disembodied rough chuckle in the dark.

I pulled up my smallclothes and straightened my skirts, wincing at the mess that spilled from me. I did not care if his seed quickened, though. Thankfully I was no longer a maiden and knew my sums better than I used to. My monthly blood was still far away and I had more time to take precautions.

My release did make everything better, but I still was not finished with my game of teasing the bull.

“When was the last time you took a bath, Sandor?”

I could not really see it, but I knew his brows were tightly pinched together.

“Last week, I think. Why? Does this dog’s stink offend your ladyship?”

“No,” I chuckle. “Have no fear. I know who you are and I still enjoy your company.”

That, I gathered, stunned him more than a blow to the head could. I heard his clothes rustle. He was putting himself back in order, too.

“The smell of blood and sweat,” he grunted. “Some twisted tastes you have, woman.”

I put my hands in front of me and grabbed at his tunic to pull him closer. This time, he obeyed. I pressed myself against him and I could feel his breath quickening.

“Some twisted tastes, indeed,” I hummed and moved to rest my cheek against his chest. “But I wish we could go somewhere else. Somewhere far away from Casterly Rock.”

Somewhere far away from my sister’s husband, is what I truly wished to say and Sandor knew it well. I could feel him stirring uncomfortably, undoubtedly unsure what to say to that. I knew then that I let myself say too much.

“Well, we’ve got that. The two of us here, nice and private, as the lady commands.”

“Very amusing.”

“I do try.”

His hands moved from my backside then and I felt his fingers in my hair. True to the word he had once given, he was doing his best not to make too much of a mess of my braid. But I knew he liked my hair. He remarked on it often.

We were quiet then, just the two of us in that small dungeon under the barracks of Castle Casterly, and it was as close to peaceful as I have ever felt. I knew I was trying to hold on to this moment just a little bit longer, to somehow keep it from ending.

To my surprise, it was Sandor that broke our silence this time:

“I do not want to let you go yet.”

I knew what it meant, for him to speak his mind like that. I was fast to answer so as not to keep him in suspension:

“Nor I you.”

I wanted to say more; to say I wished he were mine and mine alone. But that would be foolish. I knew it could never be. I started to trace soothing circles on his back instead; something I knew he enjoyed very much.

After a moment, he spoke again, though his voice was less hoarse now:

“And if I said… I am yours as you are mine?”

The pang of emotion in my chest was as pleasant as it was scary.

“I would say that is all I want.” I placed my palm against his scarred cheek and felt him lean into the touch. “I want you,” I assure him. “I do not wish to be away from you. I do not wish to be married to a lord or a hedge knight or the first drunk who wins against Damion at cards. I want…”

But then the moment faded away and Sandor brought us back to reality:

“What we want doesn’t matter.”

We have been here before, I realised. This was not the first time when both of us wanted the same, but neither believed we could truly take it.

“You know I am no knight. No lord. I’m just their creature, I’m the Hound.”

“Do not say that.”

“But that’s the truth,” he replied, his voice harsh and grating like knives on stone. “I have killed more men than I could even remember. I’m scarred and ugly and hard to look at. You would not be getting a man, you would be getting a beast.”

I knew what he was doing, what he was trying to do. But this time, somehow, I did not want to cower before my better judgement. Winter was coming and I was growing tired.

“Well, fortunately I am good with wild creatures,” I declared in my best lady-like tone. “If I could make your Stranger eat my apple offerings, I am certain you are no more work than that.”

He went silent and even in the dim lighting of the dungeon I could see the conflict in his face.

“Never had a woman like you, with manners and all. I was never meant for any court. If we give in, you’d be wed to a brute.”

I exhaled and decided then that if after a decade the seasons were changing, I deserved a change as well. I have decided then to break the spell of misfortune with a jape and took a step closer to sniff at his neck.

“Well, as your lady wife I could at least make you bathe more often. If that is not a credit to my taming skills, I do not know what would be.”

He laughed at that and even though his laughter would always be short-lived, I still took that as a victory.

“Fuck the court then, eh?” he said and gently held my face in his rough, calloused hands.

“Fuck the court,” I said sternly, and I knew my swearing always took him by surprise, “and fuck their dances, and fuck their hedge knights. May they all dance themselves off the cliffs of Casterly Rock! And may Ser Damion die of a bloody flux. I hope it is painful.”

“Aye,” Sandor chuckled again and kissed the top of my head. “It is. But do not let them hear you cast your spells. I will do much, but I will not save you from a burning pyre.”

It would not matter if they burned me to ash tomorrow for true. Today I finally had hope.

“I want to be your wife,” I declared. “I want them all to know who protects me. I know you will protect me. They are all afraid of you and–”

“Look at me,” he ordered and I did so at once. “You say this… And you say this knowing what I am? Knowing why they are all afraid?”

“I do not care,” I replied, now close to tears from thinking he would not agree after all. “My good-brother is in charge of my money and in charge of me. I have nothing of my own, no reputation, no lands or keep. Truth be told, you are marrying down, Sandor.”

He laughed at that and I cherished the sound. I adored making the mask fall.

“You are taking advantage of me, woman, is that it?” he rasped, though now his voice lacked all that anger. He seemed almost happy.

“Yes, Sandor Clegane,” I grinned. “I have cast my spells and ensnared you in my power. All of our combined riches of one dragon and two stags shall get us as far as… The Trident, most likely. After that we shall both be whores, but we shall be very happy, indeed.”

“Careful, woman,” he snarled, though his eyes showed no anger.

“Pardon me, my lord.” I gave him my best curtsy.

That earned me a hard squeeze of my backside, but I had no regrets.

“Do you have no fears, then?” he rasped, his hand playing with my hair again. “None at all?”

“Well, I do not particularly care for spiders…”

“By the gods, woman! About me, I meant.”

“Then, no.” My grin grew wider. “You are many things, but you are not a monster, Sandor. I know I can believe your words if you say you would not hurt me.”

“Never.” He rushed to answer this and his hands immediately tightened around my waist. “But I will hurt anyone around you if I need to keep you safe. I will keep you safe, the rest of them can fucking burn.”

“Then I shall dance on the ashes,” I japed again, though my heart threatened to burst out of my chest from happiness. “Come then. Let us find some drunk Septon, I hear your Lord Tyrion knows a few.”

Sandor chuckled and took me by the hand to lead us out of the dungeon.

“He is your cousin.”

“Only by marriage. Remember, I am a Crakehall. Wild boars and lions are not exactly friendly.”

“And hounds are? You are mad.”

“You better wed me fast, then. Such a grand prospect shall not wait forever. But after that, I never want to see or hear the name ‘Lannister’ ever again. ”

We stopped on our way up the stairs and to my astonishment Sandor kissed me right then and there. He looked me in the eye, solemn as always, no doubt waiting for me to change my mind. But I would not. Not when he had shown me what happiness tasted like.

“What is it?” I asked.

“This may be the most foolish thing I have ever done,” he grumbled. “And that’s saying something.”

I took his hands in mine and shook my head, smiling in a way I hoped was encouraging and not entirely deranged from joy.

“I am the unreasonable one, Sandor. You shall be my reasonable husband that tames my wicked nature, remember?”

“Am I now?” He smirked. “So you do take me for a husband? I ain’t even civilised enough to know the… vows.”

“Neither does the Septon, if we get one drunk enough to agree to wed us.”

“Nothing will change your mind, then?”

“Nothing shall save you now from this predicament. The hounds are out, the boars are slain, the… I do seem to have run out of house sigils for my japes, but you do know my meaning, I hope?”

“Aye,” he said and this time he seemed to have believed me. “That I do, woman. Now, let us get you that Septon so that I can bed you long and proper.”

#Sandor Clegane fic #Sandor Clegane x reader #Sandor Clegane fics #Sandor Clegane fanfic #asoiaf fanfic #Sandor Clegane x ofc #Sandor Clegane x original characters #game of thrones fanfic #game of thrones fic #sandor clegane fanfiction

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marshmellowrio · 2 months

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Flight of the Night | Chapter 5

A/N: Enjoy the last part of this scene.

Word count: 1.3K

“What’s your story, then?” Cassian says with a jerk of his chin in Feyre’s direction.

She straightens. “I was born to a wealthy merchant family, with two older sisters and parents who only cared about their money and social standing. My mother died when I was eight; my father lost his fortune years later. He sold everything to pay off his debts, moved us into a hovel, and didn’t bother to find work while he let us slowly starve for years. I was fourteen when the last of the money ran out, along with the food. He wouldn’t work—couldn’t, because the debtors came and shattered his leg in front of us. So I went into the forest and taught myself to hunt. And I kept us all alive, if not near starvation at times, for five years. Until…everything happened.”

I sit back in my seat, letting the words sink in. She was so young, younger than I was while enduring a vaguely similar situation. Teaching herself to survive. A new-found respect for this young fae finds its way into my mind, she already had my respect after what I heard from Rhys, but this…she has earned our respect twice-over.

“You taught yourself to hunt. What about to fight?” Cassian breaks the silence as he braces his hands on the table. “Lucky for you, you’ve just found yourself a teacher.”

A small smile graces my lips. Cassian might be a born leader, but he’s such a passionate teacher as well. He’d do good teaching more than the odd apprentice once in a few hundred years.

“You don’t think it sends a bad message if people see me learning to fight—using weapons?” I almost scoff at Feyre’s words. Damn the Spring Court and their old ways of thinking. No female should be denied the chance to learn how to use her body to defend herself or others.

Mor’s voice is venomous enough to make me look at her. “Let me tell you two things. As someone who has perhaps been in your shoes before.” She continues as Feyre takes in the atmosphere in the room. “One, you have left the Spring Court. If that does not send a message, for good or bad, then your training will not, either. Two,” a flat hand is placed on the table, “I once lived in a place where the opinion of others mattered. It suffocated me, nearly broke me. So you’ll understand me, Feyre, when I say that I know what you feel, and I know what they tried to do to you, and that with enough courage, you can say to hell with a reputation.” Feyre’s eyes lift to mine as I nod at her. She needs to understand that no one will judge here, we all have our pasts, and we will all heal. “You do what you love, what you need.”

I see her consider, the way her eyes move away from Mor’s to stare at the table. Gears turning in that pretty little head of hers. She lifts her gaze to Cassian’s, “I’ll think about it.”

“Let me know if you need some help, oh mighty warrior.” I wink at Cassian, but it is Azriel that responds.

“No novice wants your help in combat, Lyss, you are brutal.” I pout at the statement, even more so as Cassian nods in agreement.

My hand raises to my heart, and a grin starts cracking through my innocent facade. “You wound me, Az.”

Feyre suddenly states to Rhys, “I accept your offer—to work with you. To earn my keep. And help with Hybern in whatever way I can.”

I raise my eyebrows in surprise, where did this come from?

“Good,” he merely replies. “Because we start tomorrow.”

I raise my eyebrows, while Feyre sputters. “Where? And what?”

Rhys interlaces his fingers and I recognise the more formal stature, we’re talking business now. “Because the King of Hybern is indeed about to launch a war, and he wants to resurrect Jurian to do it.”

My gaze snaps to Azriel, seeing him observing a very still Amren. When? When has he figured this out?

“Bullshit,” Cassian spits. “There’s no way to do that.”

Mor groans, “Why would the king want to resurrect Jurian? He was so odious. All he liked to do was talk about himself.”

“That’s what I want to find out,” Rhysand says in return. “And how the king plans to do it.”

“Word will have reached him about Feyre’s Making. He knows it’s possible for the dead to be remade.” Amren contributes her thoughts.

“All seven High Lords would have to agree to that,” Mor counters. “There’s not a chance it happens.”

“If there’s one way, there is bound to be another way.” I say in response.

Mor continues after nodding at me, “All the slaughtering—the massacres at temples. You think it’s tied to this?”

“I know it’s tied to this. I didn’t want to tell you until I knew for certain. But Azriel confirmed that they’d raided the memorial in Sangravah three days ago. They’re looking for something—or found it.” Azriel nods in confirmation and shrugs at Mor when she looks at him.

“That—that’s why the ring and the finger bone vanished after Amarantha died. For this. But who…” Feyre breathes out. “They never caught the Attor, did they?” I shiver at the dread in her voice, another creature she had to face while still human. I can almost feel her pain.

“No. No, they didn’t.” Rhys says quietly, as if not to scare her off. He turns to Amren, “How does one take an eye and a finger bone and make it into a man again? And how do we stop it?”

Amren frowns. “You already know how to find the answer. Go to the Prison. Talk to the Bone Carver.”

I suck in a breath and I hear Cassian and Mor utter in unison. “Shit.”

“Perhaps you would be more effective, Amren.” Rhys says calmly, cornering a beast.

Amren only hisses back, “I will not set foot in the Prison, Rhysand, and you know it. So go yourself, or send one of these dogs to do it for you.” Cassian grins back, earning a snap of Amren teeth in return.

Azriel shakes his head at the two. “I’ll go with Lyssa. The Prison sentries know me—what I am. And he likes Lyssa’s gifts.” I clench my teeth as he avoids my gaze, he knows I don’t like being volunteered for something I don’t trust. And the Bone Carver it ranked quite high on that list.

“If anyone’s going to the Prison,” Rhys says before I can deny Azriel’s proposal, “it’s me. And Feyre.”

“What?” Mor demands, hitting her palms flat on the table, leaning her weight on them.

“He won’t talk to Rhys,” Amren says to us, “or to Azriel. Or to any of us. He might like the gifts Lyssa leaves him, but we’ve got nothing to offer him. An immortal with a mortal soul however…” She stares at Feyre. “The Bone Carver might be willing indeed to talk to her.”

All of our gazes turn to the young immortal in question, assessing her next move.

“Your choice, Feyre” Rhys says casually. And I believe him, if she says no, we’ll find another way. We will all try.

“How bad can it be?” Her response shows she has no idea what she’s up against in this immortal world.

“Bad,” Cassian only says.

A/N: Let me know what you thought in the comments! If you want to be added to the taglist, let me know!

Taglist: @inloveallthetime @mybestfriendmademe @blackgirlmagicforever

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seungmonggg · 1 year

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arranged marriage Bonten mikey but he is goddamn cold & indifferent to reader who loves him legitimately; Uses reader’s body for pleasure only til he got her pregnant. Reader died giving birth to the child and that’s when he realized he rly loved reader. Her parting gift to him was the child :(

omggg okay so listen up...

Mikey loved the way she was sooo fucking dumb for him, the way she'd do anything just to please him, to make him like her too. She'd more than once run away from home in the middle of the night just because he called her up..

He really wasn't used to someone practically running after him. thats why he hated that idea so much he just kept turning you down over and over again, breaking your heart more than once.

it was when you turned up at his door at god knows what hour, crying your eyes out and shaking from the cold of Tokyo. You were holding something in your delicate hands, hands he loved to feel on his skin, even though he'd never admit that out loud.

"I'm pregnant, Mikey." you'd confessed that night. And he went batshit crazy over you. Accusing you of trying to "Babytrap" him, so he couldn't leave you like you knew he would. He screamed at you to "get fucking lost before i forget myself". And so you ran, ran like a person gone wild, away from all this shit, from the pain, from him.

It wasn't a couple of months later that he got a text from Draken saying "Mikey i really think there's someone you should meet..". And he agreed because he thought it was you who he was going to meet. You, who he had been searching for the last couple of months, regretting the vile words he threw at you that night.

It wasn't until he arrived at the Hospital that he realised something was terribly wrong. Ken-chin standing at a door, looking almost remorseful? sad? what the fuck was happening, Mikey thought.

A loud and shrill scream shook him. He didn't know why, the hairs on his neck standing up immediately, it was a baby. He began breathing faster, felt like there was a huge, heavy stone on his chest, stopping him from breathing normally. "Ken-chin, w-what the fuck is going on? W-what are we doing here?"

His voice was shaking, something that never happened. Draken just put an arm around his smaller friend and whispered a small "I'm so sorry Mikey. She couldn't make it.." into his hair.

What? What the fuck was he talking about? It couldn't be about you, could it? But when he looked up and saw the Doctor looking at him, with that look in his eyes... the sorrow, the pain, all of it hit at once.

He couldn't breathe, started snapping for air to fill his lungs again, the world began to spin around him, Drakens screams of "Mikey! Mikey calm down!" got quiet until he couldn't hear anything but the loud cries of his child. The child you gave him, gifted him as a final goodbye before peacefully leaving this world with an "I'll always love you, Mikey." on your lips...

So, now, almost a year later, everyone knew not to ask Mikey what happened to the Mother of his little Daughter. Last time someone asked, he went on a killing spree for three days and was only stopped by Draken finally knocking him out...

Ahh, here it is, my first ever angsty writing!! I hope you liked it. :) sorry if there are any typos, didn't proofread it :P

#mikey x reader #manjirou x reader #manjiro sano #tokyo revengers #tokyorev angst #mikey angst

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vonnart · 7 months

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XXXIV - Annual Birthday Self Portrait 🎂 Here is this year’s annual birthday self portrait and reflection piece! Below are the previous ones i've drawn throughout the years!

This drawing reflects the last year of my existence and on my previous birthday, I had both the best day of my life and the worst. I had an extremely traumatic psychedelic experience where i was convinced i had died for the first 2 and a half hours. It was intense and surreal, making connections to what the afterlife was and it was like none of the religions or theories had taught us. It was just returning to matter, still conscious but unable to grasp reality or have any say or control. An unnerving feeling of numbness and the inability to function. After collapsing multiple times from the rigor mortis i told myself I was experiencing, I was confused why i could still see and interpret anything. After some processing on the floor, I made a mental shift and thought: “Maybe the afterlife was like a turnable dial and because I was afraid, it unintentionally turned it a bad direction”. I was clearly in a negative plane of existence so I turned this mental dial in a more positive direction. “Maybe the afterlife is whatever you want it to be.” So I entered into what i thought was a projection of my own idea of what heaven was.

Almost instantly, I felt the sensation of unrivaled elation. I wasn’t at the pearly gates, an astral projection amongst the stars, or a foggy cloud representing a soul. I was still in my body and everything around me looked normal, which oddly seemed strange. “But why would i be in my house?" Maybe my mind is still processing being dead so instead it’s projecting what is familiar and comfortable OR OH maybe because heaven is wherever you would want to be the most! And this house is literally my favorite place on earth. And then I saw my bf Josh and wondered “Why would Josh be here when i could make any celebrity or crush I've had in my life to be the projection of a guide in this afterlife?" OH okay, because there truly isn't anyone I would want to help me through the early stages of accepting what’s after death!

This pattern of thoughts and answering them in my strange sense of being keep on a loop for about 5 hours and letting go of each physical attachment to the world was euphoric. No more fear of having to make money, keep up with work, pain or stress, worries about war or the state of the world, and most importantly, never having to fear dying again. I had never felt this light before. I let go of all of it completely and somehow, at the same time, felt incredibly connected to everything in a way that I can’t quite put into words. And the best part is that I kept reminding myself that I get to feel this feeling forever!!

Later that night I wanted to see if you could nap in the afterlife, and when I opened my eyes, I no longer was in that dream state. I was horribly confused and conflicted. I was actually disappointed I was still alive as that projected afterlife was the most beautiful sensation I may ever experience. The weeks that followed became a constant fear of questioning reality and developing pretty bad insomnia. I was afraid of learning that I still might be dead but I couldn’t have any way to prove it. It ended up being rather painful for about 4 months. My friends, family, and parents really helped ground me back to earth and I am so thankful for them. I’ve been reading a lot of books that explore consciousness and it’s been helping immensely.

So now, I feel like I’m seeing the world again for the first time through fresh lens of perspective. Being alive is the greatest sensation that I was taking for granted. I did develop my first actual fear in life, and like many, it’s the fear of dying. And that feeling is so strong because I enjoy being alive SO much, I really, really love it! The ups and downs, the connections and lessons. Everything is so delicate and precious and I’m making sure to handle it better these days. Here’s to 34 and it’s pretty safe to say I’m looking to make it a more calm and peaceful one!

#vonnart #drawing #art #artist #pencil art #pencil drawing #original art #traditional drawing #self portrait

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silentmajesticfox · 3 months

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Bellyache

Chapter I: coming home

A/N: its been so long since ive wrote something, and in my drunk brain i felt i could start a series. if its ass, please let me know. i will always take the criticism and also- i just needed to push myself and think maybe its worth it., Gojo is always worth it. i hope whoever reads this enjoys, and t6hank you. <3

Y/N was finally back in Tokyo, coming all the way from Europe, as she had went on a vacation in a sense, it was mainly to learn more techniques around the world and to clear her mind, finally doing some things she dreamed of, she never thought this day would come where she would allow herself to be back here. A lot of people were crowded, conversations buzzing, and car horns going off in the sunset as she crossed the street to go to the bar and food place she had liked going with Shoko for years. She was quite nervous to see her best-friend, though they had kept in close contact.

It has been about a year since Suguru Geto died, and a little less than a year since she saw that white haired, he-who-shall-not-be-named, asshole. It was like loosing a best friend, and a lover all in one consecutive week.. y/n and Satoru had had an on and off relationship for the past 11 years, from puppy love all the way to a more serious relationship at certain points, even marriage and children had been considered. But what honestly made her leave, was there last interaction and most recent break-up..

*flashback, one year ago*

Satoru and y/n were sitting on the stairs outside of the school, they had been sitting in silence for about ten minutes, staring off into the trees and the sky, and avoiding looking at eachother. She clears her throat, knowing it is out of character for Satoru not to say anything for even five minutes, his whole demeanor had changed and he was deep in thought, she felt like she wasn’t even there.

His blue eyes dart over to her, he didn’t need the six eyes to see she was struggling and having internal conflict with herself. However, with everything that had transpired, he really didn’t care anymore, having lost the only best friend he ever had, it was like a chunk of his life essence was stripped from him all over again. “Hm…?” Was all he could muster up, still staring at her. Y/n kind of looked shocked as her eyes met his beautiful blue ones, she mustered up a fake smile that lightly graced her lips, before pondering what to say to him.

“You know... you can talk to me, right?... I know he was your best friend, but it’s been years, Toru’… He chose that path…” Y/n treated lightly, not even doing small talk and just getting what was in her mind off. He scoffed in response, his white brows crinkling as he shook his head, looking away as he felt anger bottling up and threatening to explode any second. “Stop acting like you know everything, y/n. It doesn’t concern you, especially because you weren’t close to him like I was... So, stop prying and acting like you care, because I know you fucking don’t.” The venomous words leaving his mouth, he knew it wasn’t her fault, but he was just so angry. At Suguru, at himself.

Y/n was taken aback, she stared at him, something about the way she was watching him slowly loose himself all over again would make her tear up on spot. She had to stand her ground at least, knowing how stubborn he could be. “I’m not saying that, Satoru… I’m just saying I don’t want a repeat of what happened years ago.. and that you have me to talk to or vent to, its okay to be upset.. You don’t have to take it out on me-“ With that his eyes roll, pushing up his glasses and almost instantly coming back at her. “Repeat what happened years ago? Like it was a chore for you? Are you serious? Like it was you going through that? How about you just leave me alone, you’re honestly just making it worse and I’m done entertaining this conversation..” His words were dark.

“If that’s how you fucking feel, Gojo. I’m not going to sit here and be a verbal punching bag you you while I’m trying to fucking help-. You know I didn’t mean it like that, so get your head out of your ass.” She spit back, adjusting herself and standing up and crossing her arms, a stern look with watery eyes threatened to spill. Much to his dismay, he kept going, saying the words that would end them forever. “You honestly have ruined my life in every way possible, I wish it was you instead of Suguru that left back then, I wish it was you who I had to kill and not him… So do me a favor and fucking leave for good.” And that was final. Tears started streaming as she reached out to smack him, much to her dismay due to his limitless being active almost 24/7. His ocean orbs stared up at her, almost in shock, as she spoke one last time to him. “Fine, wish you would have told me sooner, so I didn’t waste years on you… Have fun with your dead best friend, Gojo. Never speak to me again.” And with that, her heels turned as she stormed off to her dorm. He sat there in silence, even the birds stopped chirping. He then realized that was the worst decision of his life.

*end flashback*

Y/n opened the door to the bar, and the bell jingled. Her weary eyes searched around, until they finally met Brown ones she was desperately searching for. Excitement and Nervousness spread through her, emitting something like a squeal as she practically ran to her best friend, who was standing up from her seat, before crashing into her and almost making both of them fall. “Y/n calm down… We’re too old for this shit..” Shoko said as y/n hugged her so tight, she could barely choke out those words. After almost a full minute, y/n let go giggling to herself and sitting down. “I really can’t help myself, I mean look at you, you’re hair is so long, Shoko!!” Shoko smiled before flipping her hair, a waiter on his way looking at y/n before greeting her. “Long time so see, Y/n!!! Glad to have you back, do you want the usual for both of you?” He asked and she nodded excitingly. “Can you actually make that a double shot for me?” He nods before walking off and Shoko eying y/n.

“A double? y/n its barely 6?” She judged, before they both started laughing. “Never leave me for that long again or I swear I will kill you myself.” Shoko stated, lighting a cigarette and handing one to y/n and lighting both of theres with her lighter.

#gojo satoru #gojo x reader #gojo x you #jujutsu kaisen fanart #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu gojo #jujutsu sorcerer #jujutsu kaisen headcanons

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eleganzadellarosa · 4 months

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Coffee Kisses ☕️ | Part 2

pairing: barista!kyungsoo x poc reader (ft. Baekhuyn)

genre: fluff, smut, angst, strangers to lovers

warnings: SEXUAL CONTENT MDNI (unprotected sex (wrap it up pretty please), pet names (baby, princess, love)), fast paced plot

word count: 3.3k+

A/N: Part 2 of Coffee Kisses! This is told from the reader's POV. The end of the story is written in 3rd person to help everything flow better. Enjoy and thanks for reading :)

taglist: @sleepingbeautydo

Part 1 can be found here

The first time I stepped foot in the cafe, I didn't expect to leave with a newfound obsession for coffee or a crush. It was almost impossible to leave without one and I'm talking about the latter. It was impressive, how much care he seemed to put into every order, determined to bring perfection to each cup.

I lied to myself saying I came back everyday just for the deep flavors of the espressos when in reality it was always for him. Maybe not the first time, but definitely every time after that. That's just how addicted I was. He was my cup of espresso. Something I needed every day to feel awake and alive.

The eye contact snatched my breath away, made my heart skip a beat. I thought maybe time had stopped every time he looked my way. And what was that look on his face? He was smiling each day he saw me walk through that door, seeing a familiar face to bring a sense of comfort.

Then like a flash of lightning, I had to go away without even having the chance to tell him. I hated to do it but I had good reason to, I just wish I could have kept in touch. I tried, I really did but I wasn't so lucky to be given the chance to have him in my life, even if just as friends.

I counted down the days to my return, planning out how it would go in my head. I wanted to live my fairytale moment, bursting through the doors for him to run up and pull me into a kiss. That wasn't going to happen, I didn't even know him like that but a girl can dream right? Would he want to see me after so long? Would I have the opportunity to tell him what happened? He was such a nice person and I hope he didn’t think I took that for granted.

I sat on the bus, window seat as always, heart racing the closer it drove to its destination. The same bus stop I would get off on every day just to see him standing behind the counter, doing what he does best.

The ride seemed so long or maybe it was my rapid heart beat slowing down the time. I was starting to doubt coming here, all due to my budding anxiety, or maybe it was guilt. I did want to tell him, but that day was so busy and I couldn't wait much longer before I had to go home and get ready for my flight. Thinking back on it now, perhaps I should've done the cliche thing and wrote my number on a napkin and left it at my table with a cute "call me ;)" but I'm way too shy to do that.

I recognized where I was now but something was wrong. Did I get on the wrong one? Did I miss the stop? There's no way. I did this every day last year so even if I tried to forget, my body would remember. Yet, it was gone. The sign was taken down, the windows were boarded up; everything about it looked abandoned. I had no air to breathe and my heart ached with sadness. How much have I missed?

I tried to stop them but the tears fell from my eyes before I knew what was happening. I sat back down with a plop and hoped I pulled off not looking like my dog just died. I was to blame for not knowing all of this happened while I was away. I could only imagine how sad he must be not having his job anymore and based off of the nonexistent notice on the door, I don't think they moved locations. Even if we didn't talk about me and where I was for a whole year, I wanted to find a way to contact him so I could be his comfort.

Back home, I questioned if there was any reason for me to be back. The person I was most excited to see was gone and I didn't know where he went. Now I really regret not leaving him a note. I sat on my couch with my legs crossed trying to relax as much as I could. Getting on social media was best for times like these right? Now that I think about it, I signed out before I left and hadn't signed in since. There are probably a few people wondering where I went and I did just go cold turkey. Might as well add that to the list of things to feel guilty about.

Just as I thought, I had tons of notifications but one in particular caught my eye. I quickly straightened my slouched position and my eyes grew wide. NO WAY I shouted so loud that my hearing faded; my ears way of trying to protect me from going deaf. Kyungsoo had requested to follow me even though I'm not sure how he found my account. That was quickly answered when I saw he also follows Chanyeol.

Chanyeol was a great friend who I didn't really get to spend much time with since he was always so busy working in the studio. I've always been grateful for our friendship but now I'd have to give him an extra tight hug next time I saw him, and knowing his personality, it would put a big smile on his face. I had lots of messages from him but they’d have to wait until I handled what I felt was “more important”. I didn't hesitate to follow Kyungsoo back and I hoped he took initiative to message me first just so I know everything was cool between us. I shouldn’t be so worried but it felt like I messed up a relationship we could’ve built. I’d have to play the waiting game now and see what was to become of us.

It's been two months and I've honestly forced myself to forget about it. I shouldn't feel so upset since I did the same thing to him, but he doesn't even seem to have been in his account to see that I followed him back. As much as I tried to forget, there's also a part of me that feels desperate to call Chanyeol and ask if he's heard from him.

Maybe I could build up the courage after I have a cup of coffee. I know it wouldn't be the same as Kyungsoo's but this new place has good reviews and there's a bus stop not too far from it. It's six stops away from my house, so as long as I keep track of how many times the bus stops, I can keep myself occupied until then.

45 minutes have passed and the bus is on stop number five. It seemed to have been stopping for a bit longer this time but I paid no mind to it. It wasn't until I saw a figure standing toward the front of the bus that I looked up and saw a man, who was breathing heavily and looking straight at me. Taking an even closer look, his clothes were wet. Oh shit was it raining? I totally didn’t have an umbrella.

He wasn't far away but I found myself squinting just to make sure what I was seeing was real. I hadn't recognized him on first glance because he looked different. Even more handsome than I last remember and he had a head full of hair. He looked great. I no longer cared about the coffee, I just wanted to talk to him. I started smiling and stood up faster than I could control my body, causing me to stumble on the edge of the seat, but thankfully he was there to grab my arm to stop my fall.

We stared at each other for what felt longer than it actually was. When I saw his chest rise as if he wanted to say something, I spoke up instead, wanting to be the first person to say something since I felt he deserved it.

"Kyungsoo...is that you?"

He held my hand, a look of desperation in his eyes. "Please, come with me. I can't get off this bus without you."

The offer was too good to pass up especially since I didn't get a chance to say my piece yet. I nodded and he smiled as he pulled me in the direction of the door. He removed his brown, leather jacket and used it to shield my hair and body from the pouring rain. I chuckled under my breath when I heard one elderly lady clap as we walked away with each other. He stopped under the veranda of the bus stop and brushed off the seat so I could sit down.

"Sorry I made you come out in the rain, I...just didn't want to lose you again." He shook the droplets of water off his jacket and sat down next to me.

"I'm sorry I left without getting the chance to tell you. I tried to, I really did." I spoke to him as I folded my headphones and put them in my bag.

"Don't worry about that, I'm just so happy I get to see you again." I could tell that admitting that made a blush rise on his cheeks. Gosh, he's so cute. He shyly scratched the back of his head and laughed slightly.

“My grandmother was sick and my mom wanted help taking care of her. I wanted to tell you but my flight was leaving that day so I couldn’t stick around.”

“It’s okay, I understand. I hope she’s doing better now.” He offered a comforting smile and I nodded my head. Thunder rolled across the sky and the raindrops increased. “I would say let’s go back to my job, but I just clocked out.” He pointed behind him and surely he aimed at the place I thought I was going to.

“Fate really wanted us to meet, that’s the cafe I was going to try today but I thought it was another stop away.”

He was intrigued, his eyebrows raised. “You want coffee?”

I suddenly felt extremely shy, my face felt hot and I wanted to smile to shake the nervousness. “Yeah…I really missed your espressos.” That definitely made him smile and blush harder.

He let out a breathy laugh, “I have a small machine at home. It feels wrong inviting you to my house so soon but I’d prefer if you weren’t in the rain, you’re not wearing closed shoes.” He pointed down at my shoes, he was right. “I could take you home and bring one back to you if that makes you more comfortable, I don’t want to seem creepy.”

He was the farthest thing from creepy and perhaps it because I had feelings for him. Sure it was dangerous to go off of that but there was a reason we met again, it wasn’t just coincidence. It was now or never. If I wanted to see how far this would take me, I had to be brave like I promised I would. “I don’t mind going to your house if you don’t mind.”

He seemed surprised by my answer but satisfied nonetheless. “I’ll go bring my car around, here take my jacket.”

Before I could deny his offer, he draped it over my shoulders and ran out to head toward his car. Would I sound crazy if I said I was falling for him more?

His place was gorgeous. Nothing fancy, but he kept it so clean that it looked expensive. I expected nothing less from him but seeing it with my own eyes was surely a sight to see.

“Please, come in and make yourself at home.”

I carefully walked over and sat on the small loveseat that gave me the perfect view of him in the kitchen. I was so attracted to watching him do such simple things and how much attention he paid to every detail. He was charming, tantalizing, arousing.

It wasn’t long before he left his place in the kitchen, carrying the perfect small cup. He placed it on the wooden coffee table and took a seat on the couch with me.

I thanked him before taking a sip. Perfect as always. Now I was curious what else he could get me addicted to.

“I hope it lived up to your expectations.” He asked when I placed the empty cup back down on the table.

“I don’t think I’ll ever find anyone as good as you Kyungsoo.” That sounded more like a confession but I’m sure he knew what I meant and even if he didn’t, I wouldn’t take back what I said.

We sat and talked for hours. He was good at making me laugh with his stories about work and his best friend Baekhyun. He asked me about my hometown, my favorite foods; any question he thought of. The rain had already stopped but I wasn’t ready to go home. I wanted to enjoy my time with him more even if we sat in silence.

“Sorry I kept you here so long, it’s already dark out. I can take you home now if you’d like.”

Sadly I’d have to go home at some point, but I wish I didn’t. “Thank you, I’ll go home and whip up some dinner.”

He gasped and his jaw dropped slightly. “Oh gosh I didn’t even ask if you were hungry that whole time, it’s been hours! I’m so so-“

I chuckled and brought a hand up to his cheek to caress it with my thumb, surprising the both of us. I quickly removed my hand from him with wide eyes; it was my turn to apologize. “Oh I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to-“

He wrapped a hand around my waist and leaned over to plant a soft and gentle kiss to my lips. So this is what they meant about the sparks you feel when you really like someone. It was quick but it was like nothing I’ve ever felt before. He pulled back to watch my reaction and when I didn’t do anything, I could see he was ready to say sorry again. Luckily I stopped him in his tracks, leaning over to kiss him once more.

One hand on the small of my back and the other cupping my left cheek. He was a great kisser but to be honest even if he wasn’t, I’d still enjoy it. The way he smells, the gentle touches, it just felt like he’d been waiting to do this for a long time. When I threaded my fingers through his hair, he swiped a tongue over my bottom lip to deepen the kiss.

My day hadn’t gone as planned but I wasn’t complaining especially because I was tired of growing regretful over my previous actions; or lack thereof. He pulled away from the kiss, lips pink and slightly swollen.

“I love you. I know I haven’t known you for very long, but I know what I feel and I know how special you are to me. I was sad when you were gone and I don’t want to feel that again. I want to be with you even when you are away. I just want you.”

There goes the butterflies again. I’ve had boyfriends before but none of them made me feel the way Kyungsoo does. Everything about and with him felt different in a good way and that’s what I wanted in a relationship. He felt ready to do what would make me happy and I was more than ready to the same. I mirrored his confession in my own words, finally saying what I needed with confidence.

Fast forward six months and the relationship was still going strong, but no one ever thought otherwise. You were finally going to hang with Chanyeol and Baekhyun, your first outing with the both of them as a couple. Just a casual picnic to enjoy the warm weather and catch up.

“Are you ready love?” Kyungsoo came into the room to check on you. He loved watching you get dressed, you made everything look so pretty. It stirred up all the emotions inside of him, but one in particular won the battle. He walked up and hugged your waist. “You look gorgeous baby.”

You turned to wrap your arms around his neck and kiss him. “That makes two of us. Can you zip this up for me please?” You turn around once more, your back facing him. His hand ran down your spine slowly, goosebumps rising on the skin. His breathing picked up some and you could already read his mind.

“We’re going to be late Kyungsoo…” your sentence came out like a whisper.

“They’ll be fine, just lift your dress for me yeah?” He turned you around and kissed down your neck and the valley between your breasts. He walked you backwards to the bed, letting your back hit the mattress. “I won’t be able to hold out until we get back home.”

Before you could argue, he kissed down your stomach as he bunched the fabric of your dress around your waist. His hands spread your legs apart at the thighs, rubbing up the inner part at an achingly slow pace. You held your breath as his fingers lightly danced over your clothed pussy, a wet spot already forming on the lace fabric.

“So wet…I just wanna taste you a little before we go okay?” He looked up at you, sliding your panties to the side, working his fingers through your folds.

You nodded and he wasted no time diving into you. He lapped you up quickly, trying to satisfy you both as fast as he could. He had a tight grip on your thighs that draped over his shoulders. You were squirming with his tongue pressing roughly against your clit.

“K-kyungsoo, please…” your head fell back as you tried closing your legs but he wouldn’t allow it.

“I know baby, just a little more.” His voice muffled but it sent vibrations through your body.

You barely survived the few minutes he spent slurping on your juices just to spit on your pussy to make it wet again. You were definitely going to have to change these panties before you left. He stopped his abuse on your clit and slid your panties down and off your ankles. He unbuckled his jeans and let his dick pop free. He towered over you, rubbing his dick against your clit.

“Fuck, you feel so good already princess…” He looked at you, loving how your face contorted as he slowly pushed in.

“Fuck Kyungsoo please, I need you.”

You didn’t have to ask him twice, his hips snapping forward. He loved knowing he was the only one to make you a whimpering and moaning mess. The only one that could feel your walls contract around his dick. The only one whose name you screamed. You were his and his only and he knew you felt the same. The squelch and squeeze of your pussy brought him to his orgasm much faster than he’d have liked, but this was technically supposed to be a quickie.

“I’m gonna cum, s-shit…”

He pushed your legs to your chest to get a better angle. He leaned down to bring you in a hungry, sloppy kiss. The plushness of his lips was a complete contrast to the rough thrusts. It blended perfectly and pushed you to your orgasm. He moaned feeling your walls tighten and he couldn’t hold back his own release.

You both breathed heavily as you came down from your high. He kissed your forehead gently and got up to get redressed and clean you off. His phone rang in the pocket of his pants and he quickly answered it.

“Hey Baek, we’re leaving out now.” Kyungsoo looked over at your fucked out form and winked.

“Kyungsoo stop fucking and get your ass over here! And make sure you wash your hands!”

You chuckled seeing Kyungsoo’s face and jaw drop before hanging up and clearing his throat. “Come on handsome, we have to go before they get too hungry and start gnawing on each other.”

He laughed and pressed another kiss to your forehead, grabbing the keys off the desk and your hand to head out the door.

#exo kyungsoo #exo smut #exo #exo do #exo do kyungsoo #kyungsoo smut #kyungsoo x reader

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vettelsvee · 2 months

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INFINITY, a Sebastian Vettel fanfiction. 01. LOVING HIM WAS RED

INFINITY MASTERLIST HERE! previous part: 00. LOVING HIM WAS RED (click here and you'll read it!)

warnings: none of them really! just seb having a one night stand bc he just wants to forget diana, and britta just being so mad at him. important to add that diana will be a singer in the future, so many female singers won't exist in this fanfiction (ex.: taylor swift, little mix, xamila cabello, etc.).

taglist: @blackkcami @majx00 @solphin @xoscar03 @casperlikej if you wanna be added to INFINITY's taglist let me know! thank you so much to all of you who wanted to be tagged, and hope you like this chapter <3

2018 April 27th (Diana's birthday) Baku, Azerbaijan

Sebastian

I woke up as soon as I felt the sun's rays hitting me directly in the face, and at the moment I noticed a surprisingly warm presence, next to me, in bed.

I glanced at my phone and saw that it was already 7.30 in the morning. Not only did I realize that my alarm hadn't gone off and I had overslept by an hour and a half, but it also that it was Diana's birthday.

Like every other year, there was no response from her to the email I had scheduled to be sent at midnight.

After almost five years of knowing very little about her, and having seen her a couple of times in Heppenheim, from a considerable distance, I knew why I kept doing this deep down. I still loved her, that's all. I held onto hope for a meeting where we could catch up on each other's lives and, maybe, start just a friendship as if nothing had happened, as if she hadn't chosen to leave my life and acted as if she didn't know me.

I decided to turn around to see what was getting closer and closer to me, almost pulling me out of bed. It wasn't hard to come face to face with blue eyes that weren't the green ones I had dreamed of that night. Brown hair, not blonde, though still fair skin was what characterized the girl who apparently had slept with me that night.

Suddenly, memories from just a few hours ago started forming in my mind. A few too many beers I shouldn't have had at a local pub just because I wanted to escape the blurry memory of Di were responsible for me meeting this charming girl with an incredible smile.

My head couldn't piece together how we ended up here, but I suppose her insistence, my invitation to her to come with me to the hotel, and maybe the taxi ride I paid for were the final outcome of my desire to escape reality.

That had been my routine ever since I realized my ex-girlfriend wasn't coming back into my life. I didn't like being this Seb, the womanizer, and although I had tried to seek a stable partner, kindness, fun, and temporary refuge had been the best to try to forget about a Diana Wagner, who always found a way to sneak into my thoughts at the least expected moment.

I quickly got out of bed and, almost without thinking and without needing to undress, I got into the shower and did my best to let the warm water wash away everything I had allowed to happen the night before. I closed my eyes and let myself go as much as I could. I tried to organize my thoughts and tried to find the easiest way out of the problem I had fully immersed myself in, but I just couldn't find one that succeeded.

I got out of there faster than I would have liked. The moment I returned to the room, with the towel wrapped around my waist, leaving my entire torso exposed, I found myself facing the one I had been avoiding confronting at all costs.

The brunette was already stretching out in bed, lingering, and probably unwilling to leave.

"Would you mind leaving?" My rhetorical question made her just look at me in surprise, her eyes still sleepy.

"Why, Seb? Can't we spend the day together? I could come with you to the paddock and repeat what we did last night in your driver's room or whatever you call it," she suggested with a playful smile. "You know as much as I do that it would be fun."

I feel a knot forming in my stomach at her suggestion. It's not that I hadn't enjoyed her company or it was forbidden to do so, but the simple fact of knowing who was turning thirty today, and that proposal was something I used to do with her...

"I don't think it's a good idea..." Damn, I couldn't remember her name.

"Alessia."

"That's it, Alessia," I confirmed. "You know how these things are and what it could mean for us to be seen together. We could meet another day as... friends."

Neither my response nor hers were what we expected from each other. After hearing her name, I recalled the brief introduction she gave me: newly emerging music and a member of a highly successful Italian orchestra.

An Italian version of Di, and to my misfortune, and possibly the blonde's, successful.

"The way you moaned my name last night, and especially so many times, isn't exactly something friends do. You made me feel special last night, a lot."

"I'm sorry, Alessia, that wasn't what I meant," I clarified, my cheeks slightly flushing at her statement. "I hope you enjoyed last night, but it's time for you to get dressed and return to your hotel or wherever you're staying. I have to go to work," I added, trying not to succumb to her obvious charms.

After several more attempts to convince me, the girl finally resigned herself and reluctantly accepted my suggestion. I felt uncomfortable as she discarded the sheets and began to pick up her clothes, completely naked. Even worse, I felt as I watched her slow and deliberate movements, as if she were prolonging the inevitable farewell and trying to arouse me.

I bit my lip and avoided doing or saying anything when she asked for help with her dress zipper. I could have refused, but I didn't want to seem rude, especially considering that the time I had spent with her had made me feel just as I had with my ex-girlfriend.

Once we finished, the Italian approached me with determination. Before I could react, her lips sought mine with clear intent. I instinctively turned my face, causing the kiss to land on my cheek rather than my lips.

"Alessia..."

What could I say in a situation like this? Did she deserve the hurt I was going to cause her even when all we had was a night of unrestrained sex, like so many others I had had with other girls?

"I'm sorry," she murmured hurriedly, looking away. "I thought... well, we could have something more than just a one-night stand."

My heart sank at her words, and as I already anticipated, because it was what always happened in these cases, the feeling of guilt engulfed me.

I knew I had been unfair to her by allowing this to happen, by letting her believe there could be something more between us and that the problem was hers when the only one to blame for everything was me, who hadn't moved on from the love of my life after four years, almost five, of zero contact.

"Alessia, you're an amazing person," I began, trying to find the right words and not hurt her any further, "but right now, the only thing I want to focus on is my work and working on myself. It wouldn't be fair for you to be part of all of this and come out of it badly."

"I understand," she said softly, nodding with a sadness that, although I expected, surprised me. "Thank you for letting me spend this night with you, Sebastian."

I felt overwhelmed and, at the same time, with a great mix of relief and remorse as I watched her leave without even looking back.

When enough time had passed for me to be sure I wouldn't run into her, I went down to the hotel lobby still feeling heavy. I tried to shake off that feeling, but as soon as I saw Britta, standing at the entrance with her arms crossed and a stern look on her face fixed on me, I knew it was going to be difficult.

"Sebastian, again?" she asked, full of frustration.

"Yes, and I'm not going to apologize for something I don't regret," I replied with honesty, knowing there was no way to avoid the conversation that was coming.

"Are you going to keep up with this game much longer?" she reproached as she increased her pace. At the same time, she tried not to cause too much commotion or attract attention. "You've been unsettled for longer than I'd like to say."

"I'll settle down when I get tired of sleeping with girls I don't even know, I guess. Having sex is good for health, you know? Be thankful I don't usually give you much trouble after these nights."

Britta sighed, and I knew my response was testing her already dwindling patience.

"I know you haven't asked for my opinion, but I think what would make you stop from fucking random girls almost every Grand Prix weekend would be, at the very least, try to have some contact with Diana."

The blonde's name brought back a wave of emotions that I had tried to bury for years, hitting me suddenly.

"You know I can't do that. It's impossible. I've tried like a thousand times, but she just doesn't want to take part of whatever thing I'm trying to do."

"You should try once again, at least. I know there's nothing, and no one, that will change her mind," and it was true. Diana was the most stubborn person, for better or for worse, that I had ever known in my life, "but I also know that if you keep avoiding facing your feelings and trying to forgive yourself for what happened, you'll never find the peace that you not only desire but also deserve."

"I know, Britta. I know, but..."

"But what, Sebastian? It's just that..."

"Have you ever heard of the invisible string theory?"

She raised an eyebrow, clearly surprised by the change of topic and possibly because I didn't let her finish speaking. She slowed her pace, and for the first time in the short time we had been together that day, I felt calm and even understood.

"Yes, I've heard something about it," she said after a few seconds that felt like an eternity. "What does that have to do with getting over your ex-girlfriend?"

"Everything, actually," I declared. "Di and I 'dated,' if you could call it that, for ten days during the Christmas of '99. She was 11, and I was 12, and I was a bit stupid because I ended up breaking up with her when I fell in love with a new classmate who ended up dating my cousin."

"But..."

"Then Di and I became friends again," I continued, trying not to let her interrupt my impromptu speech, "and it took six years for her to tell me she loved me. I didn't want to acknowledge my feelings and decided that not speaking to her for four months was the best thing to do, not even to offer condolences after her grandmother's death... And look, in the end, I asked her out!"

My PR sighed, probably tired of hearing that story again and again, which I would never tire of telling because, sometimes, reality surpassed fiction.

"I'm going to tell you what I've always told you since Di left, and I don't care if you don't want to hear it: you're still holding to hope, thinking that everything will go back to how it was, even though you know it's not possible," she said without a hint of doubt. "Even if you were to meet her and have a deep conversation with her, your lives will have changed. At least yours has, and I'm sure hers has too."

"I mentioned the invisible string theory because I have the feeling that there's something else. I feel, besides there being one thing, unknown, that binds us for some reason, that third time's the charm," I confessed.

That seemed to have caught her off guard. Now, her stride had halted, and she started passing her accreditation to enter the paddock much more slowly than she used to.

Maybe it was just as she said, that I was holding on, too much, to hope and to the fact that everything will be the same as it was, but there had been many days now where I had been dreaming about Di like I hadn't done for months. It had never happened to me before, but the past few days had felt as if she had never really left my life, and had always been there, distant.

The last time I had this feeling ended with me seeing her from afar playing with a little girl she was probably taking care of to earn some extra money.

Obviously, I didn't dare approach because she seemed... happy.

"I'd like to keep talking about this, but I want you to stop thinking about Diana even for a few hours and focus on today," the change in tone from my public relations made it clear she was serious. "We have quite a few things to do."

"Well, enlighten me, ma'am."

"First, you have a meeting with the team to discuss possible strategies in Free Practice that could help for tomorrow's qualifying," the blonde began to explain, pulling out her agenda and reviewing the day's schedule. "Then it seems you have an interview for SkySports with Nico Rosberg, and maybe you'll have a meeting to take part of a collaboration with a brand, but I need to look into that with more detail."

"At what time am I supposed to be with the engineers?"

"Nine thirty-ish, but..."

I yawned, not bothering to cover my mouth as my PR continued talking. The heaviness in my eyelids was increasing, and I felt the exhaustion from the previous night starting to take its toll. I glanced at my phone and saw, to my dismay, that it was only eight-fifteen.

Was the day passing by so slowly for me?

"Understood," I replied, pretending I had been paying attention to everything Britta had said. "By the way, do you mind if I go to my driver's room to rest for a bit?"

"Sebastian..."

"I had a fantastic night," I admitted, causing her to cross her arms and once again look at me with a stern expression, "but I haven't slept at all, and if I want to perform well, I need to sleep at least a little."

"You have forty-five minutes," the blonde snapped. "Don't you dare be late, or we'll have problems. Set your alarm and make sure your phone is has the sound on in case someone calls you."

It's not going to be Di, that's for sure.

"I'll do it, don't worry."

I left Britta after exchanging a few more words with her and hurried as much as I could. With every step I took, I felt more tired. I knew I should have slept, at least, for about six hours, but I succumbed to last night's temptation just to, why not say it, have a good time, and, as it had become routine since 2014, try to succeed in the mission of forgetting Di on her birthday.

Another year, it had been impossible.

I didn't know if it was due to the lack of sleep or the lack of attention I was paying, but the voices were becoming increasingly distant to me. All I could hear as I walked down the pit lane was a growing murmur where the words viral and song seemed to be the protagonists, especially coming from the mouths of Max, Daniel, and I would swear, Charles.

"Have you heard this song?" I heard Verstappen say. I decided to stop when the first piano chords began to play. "It seems like a pandemic. It's everywhere."

"I don't know who the girl singing is, but she has such an incredible talent," Ricciardo continued. "Do we know who...?"

"You don't know if it's a girl!" Leclerc reproached, hitting the Australian on the arm. "What if it's a guy with a high voice?"

I laughed at the younger ones' antics, wondering if that's how my former teammates saw me like when I was their age.

Losing him was blue like I never knew Missing him was dark gray all alone Forgetting him was like trying to know somebody you never met Cause loving him was red

If my eyes were almost automatically closing, after hearing the chorus, or whatever it was called, it felt like I had taken an energy drink that woke me up. The moment that voice, raspy and sweet at the same time, penetrated my ear, my hair stood on end.

Its familiarity was incredible but no, it couldn't be her. It was impossible.

"Please, who is capable of playing the piano while singing? I couldn't do it. I'm such an idiot who has zero cordination"

"I have two questions," Daniel interjected, ignoring Charles' words. "The first is who the hell it might be, and the second is how the hell they've garnered so much attention out of nowhere."

It's Di, who else could it be.

I tried to control all kinds of thoughts that were running through my head. I knew my ex-girlfriend's voice perfectly, and the one coming from the Dutchman's phone was quite similar to hers.

"Maybe it's a marketing strategy, at least that's what Fernando thinks," Max always had the Spaniard on his mind. "What if it's a record label's marketing strategy? It might be a plan to generate interest in an artist or a song."

"I doubt it. If they wanted to do that, the YouTube account wouldn't have the name 151206010614."

Lewis appeared by my side out of nowhere. Quickly removing his headphones, he disconnected them from his phone as well, allowing the song to play at full volume.

"Seb, are you okay?" the Brit insisted.

"Yes, yes. I was just a bit distracted," I hurried to say.

He didn't seem very satisfied with my response, but I didn't care much. All I could think about at that moment was how much I wanted to get to the hospitality area already, and how much I felt like taking a power nap at this point.

"Are you also distracted thinking about this anonymous person?"

"I can't be distracted by something I know nothing more about than what I've heard from them," I replied, pointing to the three drivers who were still engrossed in the conversation on the topic.

"I've heard something, yeah," the dark-haired man replied. "I think I understand a bit more about music than they do. I'm almost sure it has nothing to do with a record label, and that someone just uploaded it without any expectations, and look."

I looked at him intrigued, understanding little to nothing of what he was saying.

"As I see you're confused, I'll explain a bit more," Hamilton continued, realizing I didn't seem to comprehend much. "It seems they've uploaded this song to YouTube," he hit play and started it again, now from the beginning, "called Red. It seems to be about a failed relationship, but no one knows who sings it or what the true story behind it is."

"Really, no one knows anything?" I insisted, finding the situation very strange.

Why did the voice seem familiar only to me? Was it because today was Di's birthday, and everything reminded me of her much more than usual?

"All we know is that the song is wonderful. I really don't know what's behind this, but if that girl, if it is her, is discovered and given a chance, she can achieve great things."

We decided to move a little further down the pit lane, exchanging some words with those we passed. Lewis kept talking about the song. I couldn't stop thinking and analyzing the melody, the lyrics, the voice, and above all, the username. I knew there was something hidden behind that number, and now the priority of getting some sleep before the first free practice session had taken a back seat.

I tried all possible combinations. Numbers from front to back, in pairs, trios, and even quartets, but nothing convinced me completely. While the melody of Red continued to resonate from the Mercedes driver's iPhone, my mind kept trying to extract information because something inside me, which was not even close to the feeling I had every 27th of April, knew it was Di.

I managed to find the supposed answer shortly after, recalling some of the dates so important to us. If I divided the username into three different sections, with two pairs of numbers each, the first one corresponded to June 15, 2006.

The day I asked Di to be my girlfriend.

If that were true, the second pair of numbers corresponded to the date of January 12, 2014. There was no doubt that I was no longer dating Diana at that time, but I knew her perfectly, and not to boast, but I was convinced that that date had to be extremely important to her if it was alongside our anniversary.

I wish I could know what it is.

"Are you listening to me?"

Remembering him comes in flashbacks and echoes Tell myself it's time now gotta let go But moving on from him is impossible When I still see it all in my head In burning red

I ignored to what my mate said after listening, for the first time paying attention, to that bridge.

Somehow, the song described my feelings perfectly, and I didn't know why I felt that way. I couldn't let go of Di, not when she had been, and still was, the love of my life.

I entered WhatsApp almost automatically and went to Di's profile. She didn't have a profile picture, but I knew perfectly well that it was her because her contact was still added with the same name. I quickly wrote to her that I knew it was her who was hiding behind the song and that, somehow, I knew it was about me.

I saw Britta approaching quickly towards us. She was also immersed in her phone, constantly moving her fingers over it. I didn't pay much attention to her because once I showed my desperation to Di, I passed it on to Hanna, trying to convince her to reveal that it was our best friend.

"Seb, we need to talk seriously," Roeske hurried to say, almost choked. Her gaze remained fixed on the device.

"Britta, I can't right now, I'm sending..."

"Sebastian Vettel, this is serious."

When she snatched the phone from my hands and made eye contact with her, I guessed that things didn't seem to be going very well. The moment she turned her gaze to Lewis and he walked away, patting me on the shoulder, I knew.

"What's wrong?" I asked, quite angry. "Why are you acting like a neurotic who seems to have lost a million euros in a ridiculous bet?"

"I don't want you to answer anything related to Red. For God's sake, don't answer to anything related about that damn song."

And again, another sign appearing to make me feel like I hadn't fallen into madness.

"Sebastian, trust me," Britta remained firm in her expression, crossing her arms. "I don't want you to get into trouble because the song was uploaded by..."

"Di."

I felt the answer in her eyes. I knew her and knew she wanted to answer me and, at the same time, didn't.

Britta knew that, but she also had the feeling that she seemed to want to hide something.

"It's her in the song, isn't it?" I insisted, but she didn't respond. "Britta, please, tell me."

I was desperate, and it was more than obvious. A sigh and a few seconds filled with uncertainty preceded her response:

"If you already know, is it necessary for you to ask me? You know the love of your life much more than I do, Sebastian Vettel. Of course, it's Diana," she revealed, taking a great weight off my shoulders and, above all, making me believe that I could have faith in the future.

next part: 02. HAPY BIRTHDAY, MAMA! (available on friday, 15th march!)

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razor-tits · 4 months

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A very long and over due life update.

So, to start this off I guess I need to back up. Let's start in October. It feels like yesterday but also a lifetime ago. Things were...ok I'd say. Boring, routine, the only shake up was my hormones ran out and my job was changing our insurance, so I had to cancel my follow up appointment for bloodwork and a refill. But then I got some bad news from my parents.

My dad had a heart attack and was in the hospital. He was ok, but he needed surgery. First they thought just a stent, but then decided he needed a triple bypass. I have a pretty good relationship with my parents, but we're kind of distant. I live a few hours away and only see them around the holidays but we talk on the phone weekly. My dad can lean a little on the conservative side but both of them are the absolute salt of the earth. They're done so much to help me and I felt powerless to be able to help. I couldn't leave work and felt like there was nothing I could do.

The next couple weeks were rough, my dad was staying in the hospital, my mom was going back and forth staying with him and taking care of my grandma, who is in her late 80's and has a litany of health issues. On a Friday I finally managed to make the drive home and spend the weekend there. Seeing my dad laid up in a hospital gown tied to machines is something i'll never forget. He could get up and move and acted like he was ok. But he's one of those guys you meet and you think he's invincible. The kind of guy that put a new roof on our house with a broken finger and can't turn away a stray animal at the door. Some family members I hadn't seen in a long time came and went over the weekend. Thoughts of our own mortality set in and I realize this could be the last time I see any of them.

I've lost people before. Some of them suddenly and unexpectedly. Others who's death was almost a sigh of relief after fighting for so long. I never got to say goodbye when my friend died and I hope he knows how much he meant to me. I don't want to feel that again, ever.

The day of surgery came. He was in the OR for 3 hours but it felt like an eternity and a second at the same time. A few hours after that my mom and I were able to see him. He was extubated already, which was a good sign. But he was on heavy medication, incoherent, coming in and out of sleep. But he knew I was there and that's all that mattered.

I had to leave and make my way back to my parents to get my dog, and then make the 2 hour drive back to Ohio and go back to work in the morning. At this point I knew my dad would be ok, he just had to get through recovery. But now thoughts of my own health were worrying me. I'm not in the best shape, I don't exercise or work out. I've already had surgery to fix stomach problems. Everyone on my dad's side has heart problems, and everyone on my mom's side has cancer and diabetes. There's not much I do to prevent any of that. I'm in my 30's and I feel it, maybe more than I should.

Over the next couple months my mental health continues to fall. I had a birthday and spent it sick, as I always seem to do. It's always a rough time of year for me. Seasonal depression kicks in, I get older, and another year passes. My dog, my best friend, the reason I kept myself alive, is getting old. I see it more and more every day and it breaks my heart.

The holidays came and went. I saw my grandma for the first time in a few years. Always wondering if it will be the last. Despite that, this year I never felt less in the holiday spirit. I used to love this time of year, now I desperately try to enjoy it, but part of me just wants it to be over. The best part seems to be a few days off work.

At this point it should be noted I have not restarted hormones. My identity has always been more in flux than i've let on, and maybe that needs to be it's own post, but I don't know if I want to start again or not. I don't know what I want, I don't know what my goals are. I don't know who i am. Beyond basic hygiene, I really don't even feel like taking care of myself most days. I pretty much always feel melancholic. I'm not angry, I don't get excited, I don't have much joy. My sex drive is non existent and I have no desire to do...well, anything.

New year's comes and I honestly couldn't care. It feels like another day. My gf and I go out and have an Ok time. I'm just so tired all the time it's hard for me to go out and enjoy myself like I used to.

And then, a couple days ago my landlord calls. We have to move out. Not sure when, but probably soon. I'm heartbroken and panicking over it. We absolutely love our house. We've only been here about a year and a half but it's been wonderful. It has plenty of room, privacy, it's quiet. We can leave our doors unlocked and packages aren't stolen off our porch. We're allowed both of our dogs and all 3 of our cats with no issues. We've invested so much time and money here. My gf is close with the owners and their children, who were the previous tenants. We even thought about trying to buy this house off of them when their other kid moves out of the downstairs apartment. And it's affordable. Anything else like what we have now will cost double and we can't afford that.

Our last apartment was tiny, cramped, dark and ran by an awful property investment company. And now we have to deal with that again. If we can even find a place where we can take 5 animals. We can hide 2 of the cats, but not all of them. We're in no position to buy nor do we have the time to go through the process. My gf said we may have to find 2 different apartments and live separately for a while. Just the thought of that brings me to tears. I can't live without her, I can't live without our pets. We're a family. I don't know what to do.

Since I got the phone call I've done nothing but panic, contact rental agencies and weigh my options. None of them are good. Best case scenario is we move in a smaller, worse place, paying more rent.

Nothing is going right for me. I know this isn't insurmountable and nothing that people haven't gone through before. But...god damn I need a break and I can't get one.

#i just needed to vent #dont reblog

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asideoftrashplease · 1 year

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The TRUE tragedy of the broken shuangjie promise

is that JC loved WWX SO MUCH that he was willing to DIE for him, and WWX loved JC SO MUCH that he underwent an incredibly dangerous and painful surgical process to rip out an essential part of himself — but because WWX KNEW JC wouldn't want this, because he KNEW it would hurt JC, and BECAUSE HE LOVED JC, he kept it from JC.

And the tragedy is that over time, it was those little lies he told to keep the secret that ultimately forced them apart. The main issues:

At its weakest, YMJ and JC as a sect leader were getting criticized for being unable to keep WWX in check. And it started from a small thing: WWX refusing to carry his sword

Then came WWX’s decision to break the Wen remnants out, and then to defect from YMJ to protect the Wens.

And finally, JZX and JYL’s death. I feel like there's sometimes a lack of clarity as to what exactly was the betrayal that JC perceived, what was the last straw at the Nightless City, when it was EVIDENT that WWX didn't intend for JYL to die? It was NOT "you killed her.” It was: YOU SAID YOU COULD CONTROL IT. JC says this at the Nightless City, and WWX (who is having 99 mental breakdowns all at once) admits "I can't. I can't control it”

To JC, the unspoken crux of the issue is: Why can't you just do the little things that would make life so much FUCKING easier for me? Why can't you wear your sword? Why are the Wens more important than YMJ (than ME)? Why can't you give up demonic cultivation, which only draws criticism and suspicion from the rest of the cultivation world, and which you can't even control? We don't need it anymore. The war is over. Why can't you go back to proper cultivation?

And the answer that JC comes to is: because you don't give a shit about me.

You just care about your "justice", and you're addicted to the power, and you SAID you could control it. You SAID. I TRUSTED you. And now my sister is dead and my nephew is an orphan and my shixiong is a black stain on YMJ's name who I have to denounce. All because you didn't give enough of a shit. All because you only care about justice, and you don't care about me.

The crux of the betrayal is that JC loved WWX so fucking much. It's: "I would have died for you. I DIED FOR YOU. I was tortured and mutilated and burnt. I defended you and stuck my neck out for you. I put myself and YMJ in the line of fire for years."

"And you don't give a shit about me."

But what the core reveal does is that it flips everything around for JC. Why won't you carry your sword? Why won't you give up the Wens? Why demonic cultivation? WHY DID YOU LOSE CONTROL? And it's not "because you don't give a shit" at all.

The TRAGEDY is that all this happened NOT because WWX didn't care, but because he cared TOO FUCKING MUCH. This happened because WWX loved JC SO FUCKING MUCH that he underwent a dangerous and incredibly painful operation to dig out an essential part of himself to give to JC, and he loved JC SO MUCH that he kept it secret for nearly 20 years.

All because he didn't want to see JC cry. All because he knew it would worsen the insecurities JC already felt.

But with the core reveal, JC is now learning that WWX did ALL THAT because he loved JC. It turns "you don't give a shit about me" on its head. But so what if he's found out now? After everything that's happened, how do they go on loving each other? Is it too late? When he brings up the broken shuangjie promise at the temple, it almost feels like he's asking "Why can't we go back? CAN we go back?? Tell me that we can go back, please." And WWX says: "I'm sorry. I broke my promise."

It's too late to go back. They've gone too far down separate roads for them to still be the people who were able to keep that promise.

#canon jiang cheng #jiang cheng #wei wuxian #yunmeng shuangjie #twin prides of yunmeng #mdzs #meta #crossposted from twitter

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mrsmiagreer · 10 months

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Things I think about in a world where…

TW: Angst, Death, Unaliving… lemme know if i missed anything

Remember the Teenage Milo crush on Darlin headcannons? Well…When Sweetheart finally met them, they understood why. They noticed how they acted when Darlin was re-acquainting themself with the pack. They never brought it up to Milo, had to convince themselves that they weren’t jealous, but definitely felt something in their stomach sink when they heard their name for a little while

Angel grew up as one of those people who were always self conscious about if they were being annoying or too much. So, there were plenty of times when Angel thought David was going to break up with them, how quickly he used to get an attitude. Sometimes they would walk around the house, avoiding speaking to him because they thought his last straw could’ve been the next word they said.

Do we ever wonder if a vamp would be so in love with their partner that if anything happened to them, they might choose to die? Late at night, my brain haunts me with the image of Sam quietly sitting on the roof of his truck, waiting for the sun to rise after Darlin’s death, accepting the fact that nothing should last forever. Including him.

And poor Avior…I couldn’t imagine being somehwere I hated so long i tried to off myself and woke up in the place. Stuck. Makes me love him even more

Another thing about Avior’s plot line, if Starlight really did die from merging into the Meridian, my heart would break for him. Now he’s double stuck, and probably feeling responsible for the love of his life’s death. Feeling like maybe if he would’ve kept up the sarcastic facade, they wouldn’t be dead. His begging them not to do it makes me cry almost every time

During the Inversion, If Freelancer stayed out of the ward when Gavin pushed them out, He would’ve been dead

Same with Milo not making it to the ward in time. If he would’ve made it, a lot more people would’ve died, because he wouldn’t have been able to throw himself into the power source, or probably even think of the idea

The shade clawing Asher a little more to the left or right and hitting something that can’t be healed…

If Scorpius wasn’t easily convinced and Elliott’s memories were really wiped and altered. He being under the impression that Sunshine broke up with him a while ago. They think about him every day, while Blake tortures them in some basement.

And BLAKE OMG LOST OF ANGST, but i’ll only give one here and put the rest in a fic

In a world where Bestie doesn’t really mean it. Again. And it breaks him. But he’s too desperate and can’t let go of them knowing they’re going to die in his arms for some unknown reason. He probably distances himself for another few years but he can’t stop, and he has to sit in their face and pretend he’s not madly in love with them. Again.

Moving on, James’ partner isn’t there when he gets back, just a note. He took too long, made too many unkept promises and put work over them too many times. And on top of all of this and their loneliness, he can’t even tell them what’s so important that he has to leave them so long for.

Cutie catches Geordi out on a date with someone else. They know it’s been a while since he left, but they didn’t expect him to move on. What about all they’ve been through? He said he’d be back…

#redacted asmr #redacted audio #redactedverse #redacted headcanons

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dreaminginthedeepsouth · 6 months

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Photograph by Guido Harari.

* * *

"Lou was sick for the last couple of years, first from treatments of interferon, a vile but sometimes effective series of injections that treats hepatitis C and comes with lots of nasty side effects. Then he developed liver cancer, topped off with advancing diabetes. We got good at hospitals. He learned everything about the diseases, and treatments. He kept doing tai chi every day for two hours, plus photography, books, recordings, his radio show with Hal Willner and many other projects. He loved his friends, and called, texted, e-mailed when he couldn’t be with them. We tried to understand and apply things our teacher Mingyur Rinpoche said – especially hard ones like, 'You need to try to master the ability to feel sad without actually being sad.'

"Last spring, at the last minute, he received a liver transplant, which seemed to work perfectly, and he almost instantly regained his health and energy. Then that, too, began to fail, and there was no way out. But when the doctor said, 'That’s it. We have no more options,' the only part of that Lou heard was 'options' – he didn’t give up until the last half-hour of his life, when he suddenly accepted it – all at once and completely. We were at home – I’d gotten him out of the hospital a few days before – and even though he was extremely weak, he insisted on going out into the bright morning light.

"As meditators, we had prepared for this – how to move the energy up from the belly and into the heart and out through the head. I have never seen an expression as full of wonder as Lou’s as he died. His hands were doing the water-flowing 21-form of tai chi. His eyes were wide open. I was holding in my arms the person I loved the most in the world, and talking to him as he died. His heart stopped. He wasn’t afraid. I had gotten to walk with him to the end of the world. Life – so beautiful, painful and dazzling – does not get better than that. And death? I believe that the purpose of death is the release of love.

"At the moment, I have only the greatest happiness and I am so proud of the way he lived and died, of his incredible power and grace.

"I’m sure he will come to me in my dreams and will seem to be alive again. And I am suddenly standing here by myself stunned and grateful. How strange, exciting and miraculous that we can change each other so much, love each other so much through our words and music and our real lives.--Laurie Anderson on Lou Reed for Rolling Stone, November 6, 2013.

According to Will Hermes, in his biography "Lou Reed: The King of New York," Reed's final words to Laurie Anderson were “Take me into the light.”

[Follies Of God]

#Follies of God #Laurie Anderson #stories #love #dreams #Lou Reed: The King of New york #into the light #memory #remembrance

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voxofthevoid · 6 months

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Hello! I just finished chapter 3 of 'being slaughtered', which was a delight, and I got the impression that Yuuji's animosity and low opinion of Gojou's entire being is starting to affect Gojou more than he expected, considering it's nothing new to him. The cracks are subtle, but they're there. I wonder how that influences Gojou's growing obsession with Yuuji? Does he feel like he has to prove something to Yuuji? I feel like, in canon, Gojou took such an immediate liking to Yuuji that it kind of unbalanced him in some aspects (when Yuuji died for example) and I feel like in 'being slaughtered' Yuuji's rejection can work the same.

Thank you for the update!! Hope you have a good weekend. <3

I'm glad you enjoyed the chapter! Now watch me sit on my hands to stop myself from rambling a whole essay in answer to this.

Your impression is right! Gojou is more affected than he expected by Yuuji's animosity, though he's definitely not surprised. Like you said, that's what he's used to, and he's well aware that Yuuji has every reason to resent him. The real problem, though, isn't Yuuji's rejection—it's his acceptance. You know the parts peppered through this chapter and the last where Yuuji has to actively stop himself from just vibing with Gojou, and how he doesn't always manage it in time? That's what's tripping Gojou up, especially in combination with the animosity.

I've talked about this before, but what I like a lot about Gojou-Yuuji is their canon chemistry—not even in the romantic sense, but as two people who just click. In this fic, though the circumstances have changed drastically, their personalities are still the same. That chemistry is still there, and there are moments where they get along enough for it to peek through.

Gojou's interest in Yuuji was sparked by his ability to contain Sukuna, and he wasn't lying when he said he saved Yuuji because he (a) hates killing kids and (b) wants to honor Megumi's request, but Gojou's growing obsession is being generously fed by who and what Yuuji is as a person.

Here's a fifteen-year-old kid who never even knew curses existed until he swallowed Ryomen Sukuna's finger the night his only family died, and not only does he accept this freaky new world without batting an eye, but he's also willing to die for the world almost immediately after. Oh, and he has superhuman strength. He doesn't put up with Gojou's bullshit despite being under his power in every sense, but he's also adjusted remarkably well and quickly to being kidnapped and kept in a cabin in the middle of nowhere. On top of all that, he treats the King of Curses like an irritating pest.

Gojou's understandably fascinated.

Ultimately, he simply likes Yuuji; this is not a good thing for Yuuji. Like in canon, the affection is unbalancing Gojou, just in a very different way.

One of the central themes of every version of the story is this: When you're practically a god, who holds your leash? At present, Gojou's moral leash is wrapped solidly around his own hand, and Yuuji's someone he's coming to want, who doesn't want him back but is entirely at his mercy. How much will that grip loosen?

(The tags say, "A lot.")

Look at that, I wrote an essay anyway...

TL;DR: Gojou's got it bad, and the fic's gonna get very fucked up very fast.

Have a good day, anon 🧡

#fic: every version of the story #anon #i love my anons #goyuu

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hannahyesss · 4 months

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Last year was a remarkable one for me. I started a new career that I love and find challenging and rewarding. I fell in love with exercise and gave up feeling guilty about eating, and now I’m getting into the best shape of my life. I turned thirty. I jumped back into writing fanfiction and drawing fan art. I made new friends (and gave up on some friendships). And I’m poor as hell because I spent a month in Europe during the summer, and my school district hates teachers! But honestly, I’m so happy to be here. We’re already a week into the new year, and I can really sense that this is going to be a tough one, yet I feel ready to take it on.

Instead of a New Year’s Resolution, each year, I pick a word or theme. Every time I have a choice, I ask myself: which action would align with my overall values for the year? My theme last year was “Health.” Mental, physical, emotional, etc. I’d ask myself “Is this healthy for me?” Should I take a solo trip to Portugal? Should I eat pastries for breakfast? Should I go for a run? (The answer to all of these was yes.)

Here is how I embodied “Health” in 2023.

I had ADHD for nearly thirty years and didn’t know it. In that time, I graduated from high school and college and earned my graduate degree. When I reflect on how I achieved these things without the slightest idea I had a combination type ADHD, there are two things that stand out to me.

First, for most of my life, my anxiety has been debilitating and has kept me on track in a very rigid, uncomfortable way. Fearing that I would miss a deadline, my brain used to cycle through checks almost compulsively—which assignment is due? Did I pay my doctor’s bill? Do I have enough money in the bank? I was always at least twenty minutes early to everything because I was terrified of being late. I did my homework in class during work time because I didn’t want to bring it home and forget. (I was also very lucky that I took naturally to traditional education—I had good teachers in high school, but the curriculum was also very easy for me.)

Anxiety is an excellent mask for ADHD—but the cost is constant exhaustion.

Second, I have always gravitated towards jobs that keep me on my feet and running around solving problems. I managed a retail boutique for about five years which suited my ADHD very, very well. I was never involved with a task for more than fifteen minutes at a time. If I’m creating a book order and a customer walks in, I’ve got to stop my current task for a short amount of time and come back to it. I could always switch my brain very easily from one task to the next. Very stimulating! I’m a teacher now, and it’s basically the same thing.

By 2019, however, my anxiety had become so unmanageable that I couldn’t look at my bank account, I couldn’t keep my apartment clean, and I couldn’t even begin to think about doing laundry. I began working with my therapist specifically on getting my anxiety under control. It was really hard work! It involved identifying triggers and sitting with exceptionally uncomfortable feelings without judgment of myself. The story of getting a firm handle on anxiety is fairly long, so I’ll skip over several years of work to say that my anxiety is manageable now.

It took years, but my constant state of high energy anxiety has calmed significantly. While this is good, I had no idea what it was masking. ADHD symptoms began to take over my life. I cried all the time because I kept losing my phone or I set my keys down somewhere stupid or I was starting to be late to everything. Laundry was even more of a herculean task and keeping my apartment clean was a constant battle. Tackling anxiety with my therapist helped me see that untidiness is not a moral issue, but damn! I was still frustrated that I tripped over stuff or that my clothes were never clean! My therapist started squinting at me as these problems cropped up, and eventually, they were like, “These are fairly classic ADHD symptoms.”

I really, really resisted this diagnosis. I had been fine fine fine for my whole life. I have a Master’s degree! I’m a teacher! If it’s hard for me to do laundry, it’s just because I don’t like doing laundry. If it’s hard for me to brush my teeth twice a day, it just means I’m a person with poor hygiene. And the thing is, I was completely capable of doing these things. I did them all the time! It’s just that I felt so tired, and it was just a matter of forcing myself to get it done. After all, does anyone really like doing chores?

“But I don’t think you understand how much harder you’re working to do them,” my therapist argued.

“It’s hard for everyone,” I remember saying.

“Right, but for the ADHD brain, you have to use a lot more energy to get started and to get finished the things you don’t want to do.”

All right, fine. That might be true.

So I started to accept that I miiiiiight have ADHD. My mom was shocked when I told her and insisted she didn’t remember me bouncing around or having trouble keeping up with assignments in school. (Except that wasn’t…actually true. I had a gazillion late assignments in elementary school but then I switched from private school to public in sixth grade, and school became much easier. I could keep up because I was usually finished before other kids.)

But diagnosis seemed impossible. I didn’t want to go through the whole debacle of setting up a doctor’s appointment, calling insurance, finding someone to assess me, yada yada yada. (Side note: the cruelest thing to do to a person with undiagnosed ADHD is to make them jump through a lot of administrative hoops to get to their diagnosis. Which is exactly what you have to do.)

At the same time, my sister was going through her own journey of getting an ADHD diagnosis. However, when she began treatment for ADHD, I wasn’t particularly surprised because her behaviors looked much more like classic symptoms to me. She went on meds as soon as she could and told me that it just felt like she wasn’t so tired anymore. That she could just… do things. And like, yeah, speed can do that for a person. But honestly, I was thinking I could use some controlled substances to boost my brain energy if they’d give them to me.

By the time I was able to get in with a psychologist, I was already most of the way through my first year as a teacher. I couldn’t sit through curriculum planning meetings without getting lost in the conversation, I couldn’t keep my mind focused during my own lesson planning, and I couldn’t fucking grade papers for more than ten minutes at a time. Damn, though, I was really good at pretending I was a well-functioning adult. I can lie my ass off, and I am a fairly good actor, so I was terrified the psychologist was going to tell me that it wasn’t ADHD—I’m just lazy and dumb and I need to try harder.

Shockingly, this is not what he told me. He said I have combined type ADHD which means hyperactive and inattentive. Hilariously, he said since Covid started, he has seen a huge influx of teachers getting diagnosed. It’s a job that attracts ADHD types because you’re never doing the same thing for long and it’s just constant stimulation. (I was chatting with a fellow teacher friend about it who also has ADHD—two other teacher friends overheard our conversation, grimaced at each other, and muttered that they might need to make appointments with their doctors too…)

Pretty soon I started meds, and it was life-changing. I realized that I was using food for stimulation for most of my life which was why it was so fucking hard to keep a healthy weight. I can now run longer distances because I’m not sabotaging myself by constantly remembering how bored I am or how much I want to stop. Grading papers still sucks but I can now grade for a few hours at a time, take well-planned breaks, and then jump back into it. Although not officially designated a symptom of ADHD, my Rejection Sensitive Dysphoria is much more manageable. I’m not constantly critiquing myself in the mirror anymore.

It’s truly been fascinating to see these changes in the last six months.

That’s not to say I’m cured or things are super great all the time. Laundry is still a struggle and I spent most of my weekend just lounging around the apartment (and called it rest). Last week, I increased my Adderall dosage to 15mg because what worked in the summer when I’m off work is NOT enough during the school year. In any case, I’ve been reflecting on how my diagnosis has helped me to see areas of growth in my life. Instead of “oh, I’m just an impulsive shopper,” it’s more like, “Oh, you are very susceptible to targeted ads. Let’s be cognizant of that and create a check system that helps you decide if you really need to buy that thing.”

I’ve learned that ADHD is NOT an excuse. I do NOT get to opt out hard things because of neurodivergence (I mean, sometimes yeah, I do, but not all the time, lol). Instead, it’s been a fun challenge to assess what I feel like I can’t do and figure out a way to trick my brain or work with my cute little weirdo brain to get shit done. I love puzzles! And damn if my brain isn’t one huge puzzle.

So here’s my advice: there is no such thing as laziness. If your problem is that you think you’re lazy, but since laziness doesn’t exist, it has to be something else. It could be ADHD—it could also be that you expect someone else to do the thing for you or that you’re depressed or that doing that thing you’re ignoring just isn’t something you care about.

Keep reflecting and remembering that you are not static.

Book recommendation: How to Keep House While Drowning by KC Davis

#2023 personal reflection #it’s actually just a reflection of my adhd diagnosis

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the12thnightproject · 2 months

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Chapter 41: Phone Home - Has Katsu gotten Aki to the future in time to save him?

Mitsuhide x OC; Hideyoshi x MC (Mai)

All Chapters Archived on Ao3

Logline - With Mai, Hideyoshi, and Aki missing, Mitsuhide and Katsuko reluctantly team up. Disguised as a merchant and his concubine, can they outsmart the man known as the God of Deceit?

Please take me to the right Kyoto! To the right time. I hung on to Aki so tightly that I could imagine him groaning, though the sensory deprivation of the wormhole meant that any noise I heard was an auditory hallucination.

Then, slowly, I did hear sounds… sounds I hadn’t heard for seven years…

Cars…

Busses…

Honks…

The hum of electricity...

And the screaming of tourists who were shocked to see two people manifest in front of their eyes.

Modern Japan… it was familiar, but not really home. Not anymore.

Had I been alone I would have taken time to breathe it in, to readjust to the noise and the crowd and the people. But Aki needed immediate medical treatment, so I stepped forward and announced to the circle of freaked out tourists in my best 'I went to art school and this is the only job I am qualified for' voice. "Historical Reenactments. Daily at the Azuchi Castle Ruins."

The tourists all nodded sagely, as if they saw such stunts often. Once the initial crowd moved off, I took out the paper with Sasuke's phone number, and approached a girl about my age. "Excuse me. My phone battery just died." I waved Iekane's device at her as an explanation. "Can I borrow yours? I need to call my boss before I get marked late for my day job."

She bowed politely and handed over a phone about ten generations newer than the last one I had owned. It had a custom case with some K-Pop band on it. If I had never left this time, perhaps I would be a fan. But I had, and the band on the case, though all adorable, also looked impossibly young.

I almost felt like more of a fish out of water than I ever had in the Sengoku.

With any luck I was both in the right timeline and that my timeline’s Sasuke had the same phone number of the Sasuke I had just left. Mentally crossing my fingers, I entered the number and waited. While the phone continued to ring, I kept half my attention on Aki, who was slumped over on the bench. If Sasuke didn’t answer, I would need to try-

"Mikumo Sasuke." Sasuke's neutral tones directed towards what would be an unknown number.

"Sasuke. It's Katsuko." Not yet five minutes in modern Japan and I'd already reverted to the name of my childhood. "Katsu. I'm at Honno-ji."

I turned away from the girl and lowered my voice. "I've got Aki with me, and I need to get him to a hospital."

The quick-witted Sasuke didn’t ask questions. "We'll be right there."

"Thanks." He'd already hung up. I gave the phone back to the girl and repeated my thank you to her.

"No worries. Great costume. Looks really authentic." With a bow, she headed into the shrine.

Crouching next to Aki, I propped him up under my shoulder. "Don't you dare die on me now old man."

"I’ll do my best." The words were faint, and I could feel his fever radiating off him.

"I'm sure the hospital can fix you right up." I wasn't sure, but now that there was nothing to do but wait, I was babbling uselessly. Every once in a while, a concerned Samaritan would ask if Aki was ok, and I kept repeating that help was coming.

And eventually, a long shadow fell over both of us, and a familiar warm spiced voice said, "Sasuke didn’t tell me his friend was a forest Goddess."

Right. This Shingen hasn't met me.

I looked up at the modern version of the main I had just said goodbye to less than an hour (plus or minus 450 years) ago. The cargo pants, grey henley shirt and leather bomber jacket didn’t look out of place on him at all, although the barely healed surgical scar on his chest and flirtatious look he directed at me certainly did.

With my father half draped over me, it was not the time to go into that, so I introduced myself briefly, while Shingen helped Aki to his feet and propped himself under the uninjured shoulder. "Where is Sasuke?"

"Out front in his motorized palanquin." Shingen gave a little grunt as Aki dumped his entire weight on the taller man. Realizing that this Shingen was probably fresh out of the hospital himself, I hurried to Aki’s other side and carefully maneuvered myself around his wound.

Together we half carried Aki to the street, where an SUV was hovering near the bus stop. Leaving the motor idling, Sasuke leaped out. “Greetings and salutations, Katsu,” he said as he helped settle Aki across the back seat.

I don't remember much about the trek across town. Sasuke drove like a Yokai on acid, zipping through stoplights that turned red as we sped past. The streets blurred out the window, and now that the responsibility for Aki was divided up, the-time travel (and Sasuke’s driving) caught up to me.

Feeling vaguely sick to my stomach, I shut my eyes. No Mitsuhide to hold your hair if you barf here. Or put mint oil on – Weird… I could almost smell the mint.

Opening my eyes, I saw that Shingen was holding a tin of Mintia in front of me. "Try this. I keep them around just for these travels."

Ah. So Sasuke always drove like this. Good. To. Know. "Thanks." I popped a couple of the strong mints into my mouth, and indeed, it did help with the nausea, even when Sasuke whipped a turn so sharply that both Shingen and I grabbed onto the armrests for stability.

Thanks to Sasuke's University I. D., we managed to get Aki admitted through emergency services and by some miracle Aki's biometrics were already in the hospital system. The only real difficulty occurred when the admitting staff asked how he had managed to receive a gunshot wound, and why had it been allowed to go untreated for so long.

"I'm rather curious to know the answer to that myself." I heard Shingen tell Sasuke.

Yes, he would definitely want to know about the movement of battles in 1582 – he probably was even now wondering if Kasugayama had been under attack when I left that era.

To the doctors and nurses, I kept answering, "I don't know." Without any inside knowledge about present day Kyoto's crime scene, it would be hard to make up a good story. Any detail I created would be investigated by the police, "he only said he was attacked and robbed." I then drew on my now honed by Mitsuhide acting skills and put a sob into my voice. "Please, is my dad going to be ok?"

To my horror, I felt a real tear escape. Not completely acting. Unnerved by my tears, the hospital staff ended their interrogation and directed us to a family waiting area, while Aki was wheeled off to parts unknown in the bowels of the hospital.

Shingen liberated a box of tissues from the nurses’ station (by which I mean he flirted with the staff until they gave it to him) and set it on the table next to a seriously uncomfortable plastic chair.

Ok breathe. This is a University Hospital. It’s a top-rated trauma center. It will be fine. Breathe.

Once I had again composed myself, Sasuke, who had been typing on a tablet at warp speed, turned to me. "Are you interested in reading a library of protocols for treating gunshot wounds and blood poisoning?"

Timing, Sasuke. Timing.

I must have looked as appalled as I felt, for he hurried to add. "This is not from Dr Google, but actual medical journals... not that I've personally vetted them of course. I'm not a doctor I'm a physicist."

"That was funnier the first time you told it to me." Were we private enough to go into this here? There were other people in this room. Granted, they were likely dealing with their own issues, but...

"I do not recall making this joke in the past." Sasuke darted a quick look at the other people in the waiting room, then typed something into his tablet. My hypothesis seems too fantastical to mention.

I reached for the tablet. “May I?”

He nodded, so I began two finger typing a response. Ugh. I guess some skills you lose in seven years. Both Shingen and Sasuke leaned over me to watch my response form one letter at a time.

Aki shot in 1578. Took him through a wormhole to 1586 different timeline. You and that timeline’s Shingen helped me get him here.

“Holy crap on a cracker!” His exclamation, and the fact that he nearly shot out of his seat, earned us all dark looks from the others in the room. He lowered his voice to a whisper. “Multiverses.”

I nodded. Hopefully that would satisfy him for now. At the moment, I didn’t have the mental capacity to explain more, either verbally, or on the tablet. Luckily, that set Sasuke off on another mad typing excursion, and Shingen, at least satisfied that he hadn’t missed an important battle, took another look at me, and offered to get some food. "What do you like to eat, Angel? The bistro in the lobby has very good pastry. I have tried it all.”

"Oh. Maybe just tea and soup." I had no urge to test a seven-years-in the- Sengoku digestive system on anything heavy (the shock to my intestines when I first arrived in 1575 had been a painful enough experience that I was in no hurry to repeat). Shingen nodded and made himself scarce.

With Sasuke still in mad scientist mode, I finally took a moment to glance through the paperwork I’d been given in intake and realized that Sasuke had pulled both academic and financial strings here.

"Thank you," I said to Sasuke when he had paused in his typing. "I don't know how I'll repay you--."

"It's not an issue." Sasuke gestured to his tablet. "You are making infinite contributions to my scientific knowledge." Wait until you get a look at this device. It was not the best location to show him that… not with all the witnesses about, let alone any closed circuit cameras that might be in the area.

Given my circumstances, I was going to have to rely on his charity for a day or so. While I did at least have the numbers and passcodes to Aki's accounts in that letter, without an I. D. I wouldn’t be able to access them. Granted, I could probably get a replacement for all my papers with a vague 'travelling, got robbed' excuse, but it wouldn't be immediate.

With those practicalities, and the trying-not-to-think-about-it concern over Aki circling in my mind, I gratefully accepted a comforting bowl of ramen when Shingen returned (also with a bag of pastry and a carrier containing three to-go cups). From the smell, it seemed like Sasuke was drinking a seriously dark roast coffee, which I guess also explained his typing speed. The smell reminded me of Francisco's office and for a moment I pictured myself back then all those weeks ago - when Francisco had offered Mitsuhide a cup of coff— and then an earlier memory superimposed over that one.

“You ought to be able to perform both at the same time.” Mitsuhide motioned me over to the writing desk, opened the drawer for like… three seconds… and then slammed it shut again. “What is in the drawer, brat?”—

My mental picture slid to when I searched Francisco's office to retrieve my letter. There... had been a gun in the drawer. I'd been so focused on Aki that it hadn't registered at the time. But it had not been in there when I was there last week (two weeks ago? Time flies when you’ve got wormholes). Sure, owning a gun would not be unusual for a Portuguese merchant. But I had never seen Francisco use a gun. Well… something just felt off.

Damn it. Not for the first time I wished Mitsuhide were around so that I could talk about this with him! (And wouldn't he tease me about it too!).

"Ms. Yamaoka?" A doctor entered the room with an electronic tablet in her hand. "I wanted to update you on your father's condition."

I jumped to my feet, aware that behind me, Shingen and Sasuke had done so as well, just to support me.

"We removed the bullet without any major complications." She hesitated and I realized that this was going to be one of those good news, bad news situation. "However, the infection at the site of the wound and the fever has put him at high risk for a cascading multi organ failure."

I felt a reassuring pat on my shoulder. Shingen. It was the pat of an authority figure to a subordinate, an 'I'm here to help if you want’ kind of thing, and I appreciated that he had dropped the flirtatious exterior. The slight clicking behind me suggested that Sasuke was already looking up all the potential treatments in the medical library. "We'll do everything we can to support his system, but to give the antibiotics a chance to work, we've put him into a medically induced coma." She paused, waiting for me to ask additional questions, but I had gotten the gist of it.

She handed me a few informative packets on their treatment and on patient family support options. The paperwork was a bit overwhelming, when all I wanted right now was, "Can I see him?"

The doctor frowned. "Visiting hours technically ended-"

Shingen edged closer to her. "Doctor. You are truly a Goddess of Healing. We're grateful for everything you do. All my young friend needs is a few minutes with her father, just to ease her mind."

Ha. Apparently that charisma could be deployed at will and with military precision. I was granted five minutes but warned that he wouldn't know I was there.

I was used to Aki seeming bigger than life, but now, hooked up to several machines, he looked drained and very old. As warned, he didn’t register my presence, so I simply sat and held his hand, as if that could be a conduit to transfer my energy to him.

When my time was up, I leaned over him and whispered, "Aki, if you don't recover, I am turning your spy network over to Takauji."

It was the smell of coffee that awoke me the following morning. I sat up on the futon and looked around the room, taking in details that I had been too tired to notice the night before. Sasuke's two-bedroom high rise condo was sleek and ultra-modern. Given how much of a history buff he was, I was surprised at how no-frills it was in terms of decor. It kind of seemed... not him.

In spite of the stark decor, it was comfortable, full of every imaginable convenience. I'd half slept through my first shower in seven years, then, with my hair still wet, I had fallen asleep almost instantly on the futon in the living room (both Sasuke and Shingen had offered to give up their bedrooms for me, but I had insisted that I would be fine on the futon for a few days).

Something clicked and beeped, and I finally located the smell of coffee as emanating from a complicated looking automatic espresso machine. It was the only visible appliance in the open kitchen. The thing beeped again, and, as if on cue Sasuke shuffled out of his room, hair flopping everywhere, glasses slightly askew, and made a beeline for the machine.

Recognizing a caffeine addict when I saw one, I waited for him to get a few sips into his system before engaging in conversation. "How in the world did you manage to survive in the Sengoku without coffee?"

"Indeed, it was one of the only thing I neglected to factor into my decision making when I initially went back in time. However the benefits of immersive historical and scientific research outweighed the inconvenience of the pre-Dutch explorer era." He finished his first coffee, poured another cup, then pulled an electric kettle out of some neat hidden cupboard, filled it with water, and plugged it in.

"Aki's friend Francisco had coffee - when we get back, I should connect the two of you.'' And also question Francisco about the gun. But that was something to worry about later. I had more pressing issues to deal with. “Did the hospital call with updates to Aki’s condition?” Sasuke had left his details with the hospital, since I was still without a phone.

Sasuke held up one finger, slipped back into his room at a much faster pace than he had left it, and returned with his phone. "No messages," He handed it to me. "I presume you want to call?"

He was correct in that, and once I had made it through the frustratingly complicated hospital voice system (yeesh, it was easier to get a message to someone in the Sengoku era than it was to get a live person on the phone) only to be told that Aki’s condition was unchanged, Sasuke had set out a bowl and whisk, and a packet of tea.

By the time I had prepared the tea, taking comfort in the fact that this at least had not changed from the Sengoku era, Shingen joined us. He had either slept in, or put on a kimono, and he looked a bit more like the Shingen I had met in 1586, although he was unhealthily thin; a condition that I imagined would change soon enough if he kept eating sweet pastry for breakfast.

Once we had all gathered our respective food and drink items to the table and taken a few bites to sate our hunger, Shingen asked again the question that I imagine had been nagging at him all night. "How did your father get shot?"

And so once again, I found myself explaining how and when I found Aki, but, not wanting him to question too much about 1586 (I was in no mind space to handle the awkwardness of explaining that his alternate was in love with an alternate version of me), I skipped right to the device, knowing that Sasuke would take over as soon as he saw it.

After explaining what Sasuke Mach 1586 had discovered about the thing so far, I turned it, and the letter he had written to himself over to him, and had the rare experience of seeing his face light up with scientific glee. "Holy crap on a cracker - it's a... I don't know what to call it."

"We were joking that it’s a mini-flux capacitor." Although who knows maybe that is what it was.

"Though I wouldn't dare question your scientific knowledge Sasuke," Shingen looked at the device warily. "I do not want you to accidentally transport us to yet another place in time."

"At the moment, it's coded to me, so we should be ok." Just to be extra safe, I folded my hands in my lap.

Sasuke scanned the letter to himself, making happy murmurs about science and multiverses. Then he set the letter down and sighed happily. “My day is complete. My alternate Sasuke has evidence of yet another alternate Sasuke.” He turned the device over and over in his hand.

“Yeah, according to Katsuko, there are at least four of us, so there are likely four of you too and-“

SQUEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

The device vibrated violently, let out an electronic beep, and a tiny green light began blinking.

"Sasuke... what did you do?" Shingen's voice had gotten ominously quiet. I glanced around the room, looking for that odd ripple I had seen each time the device activated, but at least on that end things were normal.

"I have not begun any actions that would cause it to activate," Sasuke set the thing down. "Whatever just initiated was automatic."

"Like a self-destruct program?" Yeesh. And I'd been carrying that thing in my kimono.

"Perhaps. Or a homing beacon."

The blinking light intensified in speed, let out another SQUEE.

Then the light went out and it silenced.

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