#it’s really great how it only gets worse with time

[starlazergazer]

You Promised

Pairing: Anakin x Reader

Request(s): Hello love! Could I request something with Anakin x reader where he’s out on a mission and gets hurt maybe knocked unconscious for a bit and when he wakes up he’s like “she’s gonna kill me for getting hurt” and when he gets back gets an earful but also lots of cuddles <3

Was recently watching Hunger Games Catching Fire idk if you’ve seen it but there’s this one scene where Peeta gets hurt then Katniss like freaks out and Finnick saves him and realizes shes in love with him and I was imaging that scenario with Anakin so maybe you could write something like Anakin getting hurt on a mission and oc freaking out thinking he’s gonna die and Obi-Wan or Rex can just tell 😭

Warning: Angst! A lot of descriptions of chest compressions. It has a super cute ending though I promise!

Word Count: 4k

A/N: I went ahead and combined two that were super similar so I hope that’s okay. I actually really like how this one turned out so please enjoy! As always let me know what you think love you guys!!

Obi-wan was on his knees.

That was the only thought that echoed in your head.

Obi-wan Kenobi, the general, the Jedi master, the great negotiator, member of the jedi council, was on his knees. Why was he on his knees?

Everything seemed to move in slow motion around you, every noise fading into the background as you tried to move forward, the very air seeming to fight against you as you did so.

Gloved hands clasped around your arms, holding you in place, a modulated voice you recognized registering in the back of your head but you didn’t pay attention to any of the words said.

Why was Obi-wan on his knees?

You tried still to push forward but those hands held you back, halted your every movement, white and blue armor entering your field of vision, trying to block your view.

“whats-“ you couldn’t even get your whole question out, weren’t really sure how to finish it.

You clawed at the armor before you, tried to use it to pull yourself forward, to Obi-wan, you had to get to Obi-wan.

“Kid you don’t want to go over there” Finally the voice broke through the haze, because that was Rex’s voice, his nickname for you. But why was Rex here?

“No I need to-“ you weren’t really sure what, you needed to get to Obi-wan, that was all you knew, that everything in your screamed that you had to get to Obi-wan.

“Let the general work” Rex’s voice was smooth, clam.

But Rex was supposed to be with Anakin, Rex was always with Anakin, Rex had Anakin’s back, Rex kept Anakin safe. So why was he here without him?

That was the first time you really processed the scene before you, the fact that there was a person over there with Obi-wan, a person Obi-wan was kneeling over, a person beneath Obi-wans interlaced hands, a person wearing all too familiar boots with their toes pointed to the sky.

Your gaze cut to Rex, as if you could get confirmation from the man’s helmet, as if he could tell you anything but what you already knew, as if he could fix everything.

“The general has him Y/N”

And somehow hearing him say your name made it worse. Because to him you weren’t Y/N you were general, jedi, kid, anything but the gravity that came with your name.

You like to think you’d decided then that you’d feel guilty about it later, but truly the action came without any forethought. Your hand came up with a mind of its own, your energy focusing just enough to give Rex a push through the force, not enough to hurt him but enough to get him out of your way, because right now you needed to get to Obi-wan.

You ran without checking on Rex, ran calling out Obi-wan’s name not missing how the general never halted his movements, and slid down across from him onto your knees not noticing the way loose gravel and glass cut into them as you did so.

Obi-wan was saying something to you, you acknowledged that, but your focus was planted on nothing but Anakin’s unconscious body beneath his hands.

He looked peaceful, too peaceful for the way his body moved beneath Obi-wan’s rough compressions.

“no no no no” it took you too long to realize it was you repeating those words, that your body was rocking back and forth softly, your hands balled up painfully in your hair, trying to do anything to ground yourself, to make yourself wake up, to give your brain anything it could latch to that would make sense.

Because it couldn’t be Anakin lying there without a heartbeat, it just couldn’t.

“Y/N” a shout of your name snapped you out of your stupor, your gaze snapping up to the Jedi master before you.

His eyes never once strayed from his hands on Anakin’s chest.

For the first time you took in the state of Obi-wan, noted the worry he tried to force down that was slipping through his eyes, the way his lips were parted with heavy breaths, the sweat that clung to his brow.

You’ve known Obi-wan for years, the man had been through more than most people experience in their lifetimes. He was a general in the republic’s army, a man regularly sent to the front lines to lead, the person you called to the table when you wanted to negotiate. Obi-wan Kenobi did not sweat.

“Obi” his name left your lips in a whisper, as a prayer, pleadingly.

The Jedi’s eyes cut up to meet yours briefly, his compressions never once halting “I know”

The man’s voice wasn’t scared, wasn’t broken, but it wasn’t calm either, it was just empty, hollow, the voice of a man who had cut himself off from everything, focusing on nothing but the task at hand.

It almost scared you more than anything else.

“No no he can’t he-“ you begged, who you were begging to you weren’t sure at this point “he promised he would be okay, he promised he would be careful, Obi-wan he can’t”

The words fell from your lips your mind barely attaching meaning to them as they passed.

“Rex” Obi-wan called without a second thought, paying you no mind as his attention shifted to the newly arrived reinforcements, a horde of clone troopers descending on the two of them completely blocking your view as Rex carefully pulled you back.

And you knew they were there to help, knew that Anakin should go with them, that if anyone could bring him back it was them.

But in this moment all you knew was you were being separated from him and you weren’t sure if you were ever going to see him again.

Desperately you screamed Anakin’s name over the crowd, watching as his body was hoisted by a few troopers and carried towards the nearest starship, ardently fighting against Rex’s hold as he kept you in place.

“No no Rex please I need to go with him” you begged the clone captain “please I can’t leave him alone he can’t be alone”

The captain did his best to calm you, softly shushing you, holding you in place until your movements started slow, your legs giving out from beneath you as the ramp to the starship that took Anakin ascended, effectively sealing him from you.

Rex followed you down to the ground, arms that had caged you into him softening to offer comfort instead as you watched the ship takeoff “Rex he can’t die he’s my-“ and you couldn’t bring yourself to finish the sentence, chocking on the word friend. Cause that wasn’t quite right, that word wasn’t enough, and it seemed that only when faced with Anakin’s flatlined heart that you could admit that to yourself.

Fate was a cruel thing.

Rex’s hand made its way to your shoulder, giving it an affectionate squeeze as he rocked you back and forth softly “I know Y/N, I know”

-

The first feeling Anakin noted after waking was not pain but rather stiffness.

The bright lights assaulting his unacclimated eyes he could get over easily, but the way his own body fought against him from the moment he opened his eyes, the way it seemed to protest just his breathing, that got to him.

“Well hello there”

Three simple words and Anakin was calm, the tension in his body melting into the mattress beneath him as he took the time to take a deep breath and try and relax.

Obi-wan was here, and if Obi-wan was here then everything was okay, because no matter what shit he had gotten himself into, and over the years there had certainly been a good amount of it, as long as Obi-wan was by his side he knew he could get out of it.

“Where am I?”

His voice sounded weak to his own ears, his very vocal chords grating as he tried to speak, only then realizing how thirsty he was.

“medical unit” Obi-wan answered, coming to his bedside to help Anakin sit up, passing him a cup of water once he was sure he could handle it “I must say we’ve had a lot of close calls in our days my friend, let’s never get that close again”

Anakin just hummed in response, greedily gulping down water.

“What do you remember?”

Finishing the glass Anakin handed the empty vessel back to his master, taking a moment to rack his mind, trying to sort through a jumbled mess of memory. “we were on Corellia” he answered hesitantly “the separatists were attacking we were there with Y/N I think, she went off with her clone army and…” the words died on his tongue, the emptiness of the room hitting him for the first time. His wide panicked gaze met his masters and Obi-wan read his expression easily.

“she’s fine, she had to brief the council”

Anakin sagged back in relief, his breath taking a second to right itself once again “okay-okay good. She’s okay. She separated off and told me to be safe then I-“

“did the exact opposite” Obi-wan supplied with a half smirk, relishing the way that same panicked look grew once again on Anakin’s face in response.

“shit” Anakin swore under his breath, bringing the heels of his palms up to rub at his eyes.

“she’s been by your side since she got to Coruscant” Obi-wan replied, crossing his arms over his chest “had to threaten expelling her from the order just to get her to go give her debrief”

Anakin could only groan in response, his posture slumping further as he did so “scale of 1 to 10 how likely is she to kill me?”

Obi-wan chuckled in response “oh my dear padawan we surpassed double digits long ago”

“it was that bad huh?”

Obi-wan was silent for a moment, hand coming up to rake through his beard in response, a tired sigh escaping him before he spoke again “the first time she saw you since the moment you separated off was when I was giving you chest compressions-“

“Well I’m here now that’s got to be worth something right?” he tried, earning only a single brow raise in response.

Another heavy silence fell over the pair before Obi-wan broke it “After seeing her reaction to finding you like that I feel it is my duty as your master to warn you against forming attachments” Anakin nearly rolled his eyes at the same tired old speech, Obi-wan cutting in to continue speaking before he got the chance to do so “however, as a friend I will say you ever put that girl through something like that again and breaking the Jedi code will be the least of your worries”

Anakin nearly laughed in response, the smile dying on his lips once he brought his gaze up to meet Obi-wans and seeing the seriousness that those eyes held. All words clogging in his throat as he was only able to force up a measly “yes master” that at least seemed to placate him for the moment.

Obi-wan’s posture straightened suddenly, eyes cast towards the closed door as he sensed a presence Anakin had felt coming minutes ago. “I believe that is my que to leave”

Giving Anakin a small bow Obi-wan made his way towards the door, pausing when Anakin suddenly called out “Master…thank you”

Obi-wan smiled warmly in response “It’s good to see you breathing again Anakin. Do your best to keep it that way”

Opening the door Obi-wan paused just in the doorframe, conversing briefly with someone he knew to be you before disappearing.

The entryway to Anakin’s surprise remained empty, empty for long enough to make him worry.

Despite everything though your form crept through the doorway, seeming almost scared to see him.

And though Obi-wan had told him you were okay Anakin couldn’t relax fully until he finally was able to lay eyes on you.

You, however, stayed as tense as ever just inside the door, eyes wide and panicked, gaze pinning him to the spot.

Anakin was almost afraid to move beneath your gaze, afraid any wrong move would break the spell and have you yelling at him.

Cause maker he knew he deserved it but he just woke up, he was alive, and he thought seeing a frown on your face after everything would kill him all over again.

The stare down lasted a tense few seconds as you scanned each other, Anakin noting the bandages wrapped around your palms, the badly bandaged cut on your brow. Maker how many times has he told you to see a medical droid after an assignment instead of trying to do it yourself, some bacta and it would be gone in minutes and he wouldn’t have to stare at the physical reminder of his own failure to protect you, of your own vulnerability.

The two of you seemed to snap out of it at the same moment, finishing your physical examination of one another at the same moment, because as Anakin took a deep breath and started to push himself up you were bound across the room in a near sprint.

Your arms were around his neck within the next second, your body planted in his lap, your chest pushed flush against his. And every part of him hurt with it but he didn’t care for a second because you were in his arms and the only thought running through his mind was that he needed you closer, that no matter how hard he pulled you into him it wasn’t enough because he was alive and you were here and nothing else beyond that mattered.

Much to his displeasure you were pulling back much too quickly and he tried to fight it, tried to keep you against him, tried to seek comfort in your arms as long as possible. But then your palms were cupping his cheeks and all thoughts in his head ceased, your wide eyes were looking directly into his and Anakin could do nothing but freeze, your nose brushed against his and Anakin forgot how to breathe. Then your lips were against his and Anakin suddenly wasn’t entirely sure he hadn’t actually died back there.

But Anakin had thought about this too many times to hesitate now, he kissed you back just as fiercely, just as hungrily, one hand coming to the back of your head, fingers threading themselves into your hair at the base of your neck as he pulled you into him, his other hand finding your waist and pulling, seeking out any sort of physical reminder that you were here, really here.

But there you went pulling back again, ending the kiss much too quickly for his liking. He tried to follow you back, tried to pull your lips back to his but you were too stubborn, why did you always have to be this stubborn?

Before his mind could even process what had happened, before he could even mourn to loss of your body against his, your hand was raised and Anakin felt a sharp sting on his cheek, a pain he was only 60% sure was new at this point.

He forced his eyes open only to be met with the anger in your eyes he had been expecting since you had walked into the room.

You were pulling back again, getting up from the bed to your feet, fingertips trailing down the sheets that separated his body from yours absentmindedly but leaving a trail of sparks in their wake for Anakin. He tried to reach for them but you were too quick pulling them back, coming up to stand alongside his bed.

He could acknowledge you were talking now, or rather ranting fit it better, but he was too busy trying to reach you, trying to pull you back down on top of him, too busy cursing his every ache and pain that kept him from standing up and following you.

“cannot believe you thought it was a good idea to go off on your own what were you thinking? No scratch that I knew what you were thinking and it was nothing-“

Your words vaguely registered in the back of his mind as you paced back and forth, scolding him. “you’re right, I’m sorry, come here” the words rushed out of his mouth as he tried to reach out to you again.

But you never even acknowledged that he had spoke, continuing your rant without a hiccup “you cannot keep doing this to me, to Obi-wan, to Rex, throwing yourself into every dangerous situation without any regard for your life-“

And all Anakin could focus on were your lips as you spoke. Was it just him or did they seem slightly pinker than before? Slightly swollen. A soft sheen on them from saliva, his saliva, maker how he wanted to add to it. He hummed non-committally to whatever you had just said.

You hadn’t even looked at him as you ranted, your eyes planted on your feet as you paced rapidly before his bed “you promised me you’d be careful and this is how you thought you would go about upholding that promise? Because I have news for you if you really thought that was a good plan-“

He hadn’t even gotten the chance to really enjoy himself, enjoy the feeling of your lips against his, the taste of you on his tongue. With every second that passed with you still all the way across the room he became less and less convinced that the kiss had really happened. At this point he didn’t really care if he had imagined the whole thing he was just desperate to recreate it.

His bed shook slightly as your hands came to rest on the foot of it and your eyes for the first time this entire rant connected with his and Anakin’s focus finally zeroed in, yours seeming to do the same, the both of you acknowledging in that moment you hadn’t listened to a single word the other had said in the past five minutes.

Another tense silence passed, each being unsure of what to say to the other, before a tear falling down your cheek broke it. “Ani I found you while Obi-wan was doing chest compressions, I only found you after you had died”

And for the first time the weight of his own stupid actions seemed to hit him. Because he could tell himself that he was doing it for you, or for Obi-wan, but truly Anakin hadn’t ever thought about what would happen after he made the decision to do something stupid. And here he was dealing with those consequences.

You were scared, you were scared and sad and Anakin had done that to you and he wasn’t sure he could forgive himself for that.

“Y/N please” he begged softly, one arm extended out to you.

And finally you listened to him, too slowly making your way back to his bedside, and Anakin wasted no time in wrapping his arm around your shoulders and pulling your head into his chest.

You went willingly, your arms wrapping around his torso, burying yourself into him with a relieved sigh as Anakin buried his nose in your hair, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head.

“I’m so sorry Y/N” he whispered into your hair and for a second you didn’t respond, simply stayed in his arms, listened to the sound of his heart beat, reminded yourself he was really here, before replying, your voice muffled slightly by his shirt.

“You better be Skywalker”

And despite everything Anakin couldn’t help but chuckle at your threat, arms tightening slightly around you as he fondly kissed the top of your head once more.

“If I promised to be more careful would you kiss me again?”

It came out in a teasing tone but you froze at the question, your entire body tensing beneath his touch before slowly pulling back to better look at him, your eyes wide in panic “maker I kissed you”

“you did” he agreed eagerly, hand coming up to cup your cheek.

You brushed aside his hand without a thought, your panicked state leaving Anakin much too amused “I didn’t even ask you or warn you or tell you how I feel I just kissed you, maker Ani”

“And I’m asking you to do it again” he chuckled, hand wrapping around your wrist and giving it a small tug trying to pull you back into him.

“I could’ve ruined everything” you continued to rant, eyes unfocused as you spoke “We’ve known each other since we were nine and I just kissed you like that wasn’t going to change everything what was I thinking”

“I’m thinking if you don’t kiss me now my heart may stop…again”

Your response was immediate, one fist shooting out and connecting solidly to his shoulder causing the jedi to groan softly “Ani that’s not funny”

Nonetheless Anakin took advantage of the way you leaned forward slightly to hook one hand around the back of your neck and crash your lips sloppily into his, a happy groan escaping him once you had finally connected.

Yet again you were pulling back but Anakin learned from his mistakes, never letting you get far. “I want it on record this does not mean I condone you injuring yourself”

“You got it sweetheart” Anakin mumbled back without much thought, pulling you back into him to let your lips connect once again, relishing the few seconds you eagerly kissed him back before you pulled back once again.

“And you can’t just say whatever you think I want to hear just so I’ll kiss you”

“mhm sure whatever you want baby” he responded with a hum before pulling you in again, an exasperated groan escaping him when you once again pulled back too soon.

“I mean it you have to promise me Ani”

Anakin’s other hand came up to cup your check, gaze desperately seeking out yours as he held your head mere inches from his own “I promise you I will not put myself unnecessarily into danger going forward” and without giving you a chance to respond he was kissing you again, committing every second to memory as he threaded his fingers through your hair.

Your hands planted on his chest as you pulled back again, barely getting out your “and one more-“ before Anakin was responding with a simple “no” pulling you back into him, the Jedi’s desperation making you giggle against his lips as you happily kissed him back.

#anakin skywalker #anakin skywalker imagine #anakin imagine #anakin fic #anakin x reader #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin skywalker fic #anakin skywalker x you #star wars fanfiction #star wars imagine #star wars x you #star wars x reader #star wars x y/n #skywalker imagine #skywalker x reader #skywalker x you #anakin skywalker x y/n #anakin x y/n #anakin x you

[ao3commentoftheday]

I have a problem with commenting. I really like doing it! I love seeing people being happy because of them (it uh. Might also make me feel power that just a few words from me can make someone's day, it feels really nice and I'd love to do it as often as I can) and I almost always make them looong

The problem is, the moment I feel like the author in some way depends on me writing comments (they write back that they can't wait for me seeing the newest chapter or (and it makes me feel So Much Worse) I see that I'm the only person commenting) I feel stuck. I can't make myself comment so I stop reading the work so I don't read without commenting because I just can't, I get anxious and frustrated and awful (plus I miss out on reading those great, great stories)

I also really don't like skipping commenting on a chapter

This is why I don't often comment on on-going or on individual chapters of multuchaptered finished fics (i did a "writing individual comments in my notepad and then update them all" a few times tho) because I feel bad if I miss a chapter or the comment is too short when previously I'd comment a couple paragraphs (generally I don't like making short comments but if it's a one-shot I don't feel that bad)

Do you have any ideas what to do? I really like making authors happy and I feel like a bad person when I drop them but sometimes commenting feels like a chore and I read fanfics to feel better not worse...

I've answered asks before with "I could have written this" but this is a case where I literally did.

Somehow you've turned a pleasure into a duty and now you're stuck. How can you get back to the fun of commenting without winding up back in the guilt-prison you built out of your own rules?

I haven't figured it out yet, really, but what I've got so far is: don't be so hard on yourself. Give yourself a little grace.❤️

Don't open up a fic with the expectation that you'll write a comment on it. Just read the story with no specific plan to write a comment at the end. Enjoy the chapter or the whole fic. Let your mind be taken away to the world the author has created for you.

Afterwards, if you want to thank them for writing, do that. If you want to tell them you loved it, do that. If you want to point out a particular scene or line or feeling that really hit you, do that. But also the kudos button is there for when you don't have words. Emojis are there for when all you can say is a string of hearts. And sometimes you don't have the energy or the brainpower (or the freedom from anxiety) to leave anything at all, and that's okay too.

Reading fic isn't your job and commenting isn't your homework. You don't need to get an A+ in understanding themes and quoting lines back to the author. And in those cases where you feel like the responsibility has become too much? That's your sign that it's time to take a step away and do something else for a while until you're ready to come back again. And when you do come back? Start reading without commenting first and then see how things go.

#asks and answers

[n0tamused]

Hi! I saw that you requests were open and I had a brain rot about an idea, with platonic! Ratio with a student who acts like Bronya Zaychik. Feel free to ignore this if you don't feel like writing this! I love your work sm! Take care🗣🗣🗣

- 🧈 anon

A/N: My first emoji anon >:D Hello! Thank you so much for your request, I do hope I did it justice. I do have to say I did not play HI3 besides a little bit of the start, so I am not that well versed with Bronya's character there, but I did ask a friend to tell me about her, so I hope this is alright <3 Enjoy! You take care too!

Contents: PLATONIC! Dr Ratio x Reader, hcs, fluff?? Fight me

-Dr. Ratio is hard to get close to, both as a professor and an individual outside the Intelligentsia Guild. With that comes great impartiality when dealing with people, no one gets a better or a necessarily worse treatment by him, unless they’re really asking for it

-This does not mean that he is not keen on observation. Seldom few things can go by him without his notice, and that includes the little details about the students he teaches. The things they think escape the view of others

-It took some time, some odd few months before he really began to focus a bit more on you, all past observations accounting up to what he thinks now. His view definitely changed, positively so too.

-He is very appreciative of you, as a bright spark among the sea of dull minds, and he also began to look forward to your essays and exam papers. Although his rather harsh outward demeanor is yet to soften, it is clear he is taking steps to take a bit more care about you, taking steps to nurture your mind and to encourage its further growth

-Dr. Ratio really does want to spread knowledge far and wide, that is his life mission, and his way of teaching can be hard to catch on to, something he is aware of. So whenever he does see someone grasping his talks and being in tune with the material, he will do his best to not let that student stray from this path

-As a professor it is his duty and responsibility to be like that, but he takes that duty on tenfold

-During the days and classes which are spent in practical learning, Dr. Ratio would observe your way of going about the task, the way you look so…deadpan when being seemingly sarcastic with your peers, and how much you just cherish those few people in your closest circle, and how they cherish you in return- it is something that leaves him with an odd sense of pride in his chest.

-Having mentioned that, he finds it oddly peculiar and curious how you seem to refer to yourself as a third person too, and at times he does find it to be a pet peeve of his. In his mind it’s a cruel way to demean yourself like that, and at times when it seems as if you’re being rude to yourself, he will jump in to correct you - not only on the way you refer to yourself, but also the way you talk about yourself. He may be blunt, but he is not unnecessarily rude and there is care interwoven between his sharp words. Dr. Ratio does not take out rage on his students either, unless asked for, obviously - when did he ever mince his words or  actions with idiots? But you are human, so at least treat yourself as one.

-It is an odd feeling Dr. Ratio feels,  a sense of paternal protectiveness when it comes to you after a long while of teaching you and getting to know you through small talks here and there and through the answers you offer. 

-Should you encounter an issue, any issue, rest assured, Dr. Ratio does not mind repeating himself - after he let a small sassy remark fall from his lips about having to repeat himself. He shows you how he does it himself, before letting you take a go under his watchful eye. You may even catch a subtle praise or two slip from him

-He is well aware of the setbacks you can encounter, mainly with the issues of walking and going about. Dr. Ratio would try to accommodate the needs of his students, including you, as practically as he could. Thankfully, you won’t need to walk much at all during his classes. 

-Going back to the protectiveness he feels, he sort of has that demeanor which in a nutshell is just “I can yell at them but no one else can”. The other professors at the Guild can really strike his nerves when they are just rude and cruel to students, and aeons save the person that dares to dig their nasty teeth into either one of his students. They’re not gonna hear the end of it

-Say what you want about him, but one thing that is not true is that Dr. Ratio is emotionless, or that he lacks empathy. He was a student once too, and someone’s child. And now you’re his student, and while you may not be coddled in any way, you will be taken care of.

Ⓒ n0tamused. Do not repost, translate, edit, and/or copy any of my works. Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated.

#Dr Ratio #Veritas Ratio #Dr ratio x reader #dr ratio x you #dr ratio x y/n #gn reader #dr ratio x gn reader #veritas ratio x reader #veritas ratio x you #dr ratio headcanons #honkai star rail #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail x you #honkai star rail headcanons

[ashtavula]

Regarding your Housewardens with idol s/o fic

It's a pretty well known fact that Kalim is good with playing the drums, so I can only imagine him begging his s/o to play in their next concert so they'd be together on stage

...now I'm thinking about all of pop music club begging to play with you! So I hope you don't mind me adding them too!

Kalim, Cater, and Lilia performing with an idol s/o

Kalim:

-It started when your drummer called out sick, and couldn't show up for practice. Kalim was quick to offer his assistance, and he did a great job. One practice session turned into two, then three while you all waited for your usual drummer to recover. But once he does, Kalim begs you to keep him on the band. He loves the feeling of helping you perform, and he really wants to actually go up on stage with you. Kalim clings to you, pouting and whining and showing you his best puppy eyes. You eventually relent, stating that he can be your drummer for one show.

-Well, that's what you said, anyway. But Kalim ends up drumming at quite a few of your concerts. He always thought that cheering with the rest of the crowd was fun, but he likes performing with you even more. Your fans always spot him mouthing along with the lyrics and bobbing his head up and down as he skillfully bangs away at his drums, thoroughly immersed in your energy. And when you glance back at him after a song, Kalim always flashes you a bright grin as he mouths out the words, "I love you."

Cater:

-He initially wasn't interested in actually playing with you, but he likes talking shop with your guitarist. The two of them sometimes goof around, going back and forth about the instrumentals for your songs. The rest of the band likes Cater, too. They all like Cater enough to ask him to temporarily replace your guitarist when the poor guy breaks his wrist. It takes a bit of cajoling from you, but Cater comes around to the idea. It's just for a few shows, right?

-Wrong. Cater didn't anticipate just how much he'd love getting to watch you from his spot on the stage. He gives you the softest smiles while he strums on his guitar, his foot tapping along to the beat. He really wants to take a few pictures of you like this, just so he can look back at how cute you are from his point of view. Fortunately for him, he can just station some of his clones in various spots to get some snapshots. And once the show is over, he hopes you'll agree to take a few more pictures with your favorite guitarist.

Lilia:

-Lilia's been begging for a chance to get on stage with you ever since he realized that you were an idol. He thinks it'd be ridiculously fun to perform with you. Especially if you let him sing with you! You've had to gently turn him down more times than you can count, since you're pretty sure that your manager would kill you if Lilia disrupted one of your performances. Despite your consistent refusals, Lilia still likes to hang around during practices, plucking on the strings of his bass guitar. And when your bassist suddenly gets held up in traffic right before a performance, you have no choice but to hope that your batty boyfriend can fill his shoes for the night.

-Turns out that Lilia gets serious when he's performing with you. Sure, he's grinning like a maniac and mouthing along to the lyrics, but he plays the bass perfectly for you. And he hypes up your fans too, silently encouraging them to cheer even louder...and encouraging their cries for an encore. Now that Lilia has gotten what he wanted, he just gets worse about wanting to perform with you. He openly laments that you don't love him when he doesn't get invited to practices, and then he shows up anyway, moping as he holds his bass. At this point, you're better off letting Lilia play, if only to stop his melodramatics.

#kalim al asim #kalim x reader #cater diamond #cater x reader #lilia vanrouge #lilia x reader #twisted wonderland #twst reader insert #twst x reader #twst

[gigglesandfreckles-hp]

For future reference: this fandom absolutely DOES prompts!! Some people more than others, but we even have whole blogs dedicated to giving out prompts! ;) (shout-out to @jilymicrofics and @jilychallenge) Prompt lists are great too, of course!

Anyways, a lot of good prompts here but of course it jumped out at me:

"I love you."

"You couldn't have picked a worse time for a confession."

(Tied-up back-to-back Order!Jily go! Or whatever you want to do with it, really, but that's how I pictured it. 😁)

❤

ah this is brilliant information!! thank you!

from this prompt list

It was supposed to be a calm, quick, easy mission.

“Give it to the kids,” Moody had said, waving his hand dismissively as if it wasn’t worth his time to care or follow-up with which ‘kids’ ended up taking on the mission.

That was the only reason James and Lily had ended up doing it together anyway, because Mad-Eye’s universal distaste for romance and relationships and, well, happiness usually keeps the couple separate.

Now, though—Lily’s starting to wonder if maybe the old man had a point, because nothing as elementary as Incarcerous has ever managed to ensnare her when she was on a mission with Mary or Remus or Sirius or anyone other than the idiot currently tied behind her.

“So,” he drawls, “do you think they’ll come back soon or…”

“Shut up, Potter.”

She can feel him shrug casually against her. “I’m just wondering.”

“Do something more useful,” she hisses, struggling against the ropes again.

“I dunno why you’re so upset,” James quips. “This is quality time, Evans. Sure, I usually prefer to be able to actually look at you on our dates, and yeah, I guess the blood stain in that corner over there is a bit of a mood-killer, but, oh, I don’t know. It all has a certain charm to it. Don’t you think it’s all a little sexy?”

“If we ever get out of here,” she says through gritted teeth, “I’m going to kill you.”

The Death Eaters had confiscated both of their wands, but—given James and Lily’s concealed identities—had hesitated to do any more than that. It’s a disturbing advantage, revealing the level of bureaucracy even within their enemy's ranks, that they have to check with their esteemed Dark Lord, or whoever, before proceeding with torture.

So, here Lily and James sit, bound together, their backs pressed against each other in an unidentified room within an unspecified house. The opulence of the marble floors and the imposing darkness of the towering ceilings hinted at its owner's aristocratic (Pureblood) pedigree.

“Should we play a game to pass the time?” James chirps.

“I need to concentrate.”

“Good idea. I love that game!”

“Wh—”

“This is the game of concentration, no repeats or hesitation, I go first, you go second, category is—”

“Jesus Christ, James!” she shouts, shrilly. “How can you sing at a time like this?”

He shifts, his back pressing more firmly into hers, and immediately she knows he's heard what she's been trying so hard to keep concealed. His physical presence succeeds in grounding her, as it always does. “Evans.”

Lily feels awful for snapping at him. None of this is his fault, obviously. He’s been nothing short of wonderful from the beginning. She takes a shaky breath and shuts her eyes. “Yeah?”

“You all right?”

She leans back into him. “No,” she whispers hoarsely, “I don’t think so.”

The ropes shift against her skin as James moves again. She feels his arm bumping along hers and then, out of the corner of her eyes, she sees his hand, moving toward hers. How he’s contorting himself to manage it, she doesn’t know, but she moves her own hand to clasp his without thinking.

He squeezes her hand. “We’re gonna be okay,” he says. “Moody’ll have gotten our Patronus by now. Any minute now—”

“But what if they—”

“It’s not gonna happen,” he says, his voice firm, instilling a sense of confidence in her. “We’ll be out of here before they even find out who we are.”

“I—” Her voice breaks.

“Not gonna happen, Evans. I’ve got your back.” He chuckles a bit pathetically. “Incidentally, right now, I actually do.”

Her head drops, a pitiful snort escaping her at the miserable irony of all this. “Tell me something good,” she murmurs.

“Well, obviously—”

“Something other than your new cat, James.”

“Okay, fine,” he says, a little grumpily. She smiles, clearly imagining the pout on his lips. “How about…oh! My mum is baking a cake for Padfoot’s birthday this weekend. And I don’t know if you’ve had a Euphemia Potter cake before, but—” He pauses for dramatic effect. “You’ll never have something more disgusting in your life.”

“James!”

“No, I’m being so serious, Evans. It’s like…Merlin, it’s like she sweeps the back-streets of London and dumps the contents of her dustbin into a pan with some eggs and just bakes it. We stick a candle in it and sing and fuck, it’s literally so bad.”

“You’re terrible.”

“No, Lily,” he says, seriously. “The cake is terrible. You’ll see.” He hums to himself. “But I see the humorous tragedy of my mum’s cake isn’t going to do it for you, so I’ll move on to another topic. Let’s see, let’s see.”

“I didn’t know it would be so much trouble to think of something good for your girlfriend to—”

“Oh, you’re playing dirty now, Evans. Pulling the girlfriend card, like you don’t know what that does to me, every single time.”

She grins, even though he can’t see her. “What if—”

“Hang on, I’ve got something,” he interrupts her. “Something good.”

“Alright, let’s hear it,” she says, waiting. “I’m on the edge of my seat.”

“Actually, your arse is firmly planted against mine, a fact I have not stopped thinking about since we were thrown in here, but seeing as it’s not an appropriate time to do something about that—”

She bumps the back of her head lightly against his. “Oh my God, Potter, get on with it!”

“I love you.”

Lily freezes, her back going rigid against James’s. “You—” She feels him squeeze her hand again. “You couldn’t have picked a worse time for a confession,” she murmurs numbly.

He doesn’t say anything at first, but before Lily can give a proper response, she feels him shaking against her.

“James?” She shifts to try and get any sort of vantage point to see him. “James, what are—” He’s laughing. Absolutely, hysterically laughing! “Was that a joke?” she demands sharply, trying to withdraw her hand from his. “You’re a terrible person, James Potter! I don’t—”

“No,” he manages, through peals of laughter, trapping her hand back between his. She can feel his head shake back and forth. “No, I was being…completely…serious.”

Jesus, she wishes she could see his face right now. Not that it’s ever aided her in being able to understand this mad man before, but…

“I don’t know why I said it,” he continues, still snorting in laughter. “I mean, I do. Obviously, I…I love you beyond reason, Lily. But—Merlin’s beard, I can’t believe I just—”

“You…love me?” she asks, quietly.

His hand turns over, palm meeting palm, so he can properly intertwine their fingers. “Of course I do,” he says.

“But—”

“I love you.”

She feels a surge of emotion. “I love you, too,” she manages. “So much. A pathetic amount, really. And—”

“I swear to Merlin the second we’re out of here, Evans, I’m going to kiss you so good.”

“So good?” she repeats, giggling at the absurdity of it. He’s ridiculous. She loves him so much.

“Yeah, I’d—” He dissolves into laughter again.

“What now?” she cries.

“It’s just—” He snorts loudly, his head bumping against hers. “Well, see, I’d kiss you now, but I’m…” A loud peal of laughter echoes through the dark room. “I’m a bit…tied up…at the moment.”

#bc james is absolutely the person to laugh at his own jokes #AND have the worst timing of anyone on the planet #my fic #jily

[seraphimcollections]

gentle giant | Konig x medic!reader |

chapter 6

warning: dark themes, blood, torture, electrocution, use of firearms, mentions of death and mutilation. Angst but eventual fluff (it’s going to be okay!)

summary: there’s no waiting for when the reaper calls, and Konig’s come to collect.

w/c: 4.2

The whirring of the helicopters would have deafened König if he hadn’t been deep within his thoughts. He sat hunched over on the bench, his elbows and knees connected and fingers laced together. His dark eyes remained on the grated floor, never moving. The others knew to give the Austrian his space, letting him sink further and further into his worries. He couldn’t get the image of your smiling face out his mind, your witty remarks. The warmth of your hands, how soft they were. Everything about you was a blessing but also a curse as his anxiety clawed into his gut, refusing to release him. Glimpses of you injured or worse, it made him nauseous.

König didn’t snap out of his thoughts until he felt the chopper shake before stabilizing, telling him they had landed. Almost immediately he was on his feet, ignoring the concerned glances from Soap. He stalked to the bay door, holding on to a support rope overhead as the hot sun crept in as the door lowered. The blades of the helicopter were coming to a slow halt as his hard gaze landed on two men waiting for them on the tarmac. Konig was about to make his way down when Price clapped a hand on his shoulder, gaining the Austrian's attention.

“I’ll handle the introductions, mate,” Price said, his voice stern but his gaze gentle.

Koning remained silent as he let Price take the lead down to the men, the rest of the task force following close behind. Almost immediately Konig could feel the two strangers’ curious gazes on him, but he couldn’t find the effort to care. He was on edge and not in the mood to waste time.

“Nice to see you again, Captain!” The man with dark slicked back hair grinned. “And I see you’ve added onto your entourage.”

“Los europeos y sus máscaras,” the other man, warily eyeing Konig.

“This is our colleague from KorTac, Cl. Konig,” Price said, “Konig, this is Cl. Alejandro Vargas and Sgt. Rodolfo Parra. They were a great help for us with the whole Hassan business.”

“Likewise, Captain,” Alejandro smirked.

“Pleasure,” Konig muttered.

Alejandro’s expression became serious, “Come, let’s get you settled.Your message worries me, Captain. Shepherd really took one of your own?”

Price nodded solemnly as he and the others followed, “yes, broke into our base and abducted her.”

“And you think she’s here?” Rudy said skeptically.

“It’s our only bet,” Ghost said. “And we can’t waste anymore time.”

“Do we have a lead?” Konig said, his exhaustion peeking through his gravelly tone.

Alejandro nodded, “we noticed some suspicious activity at an old mine two clicks from Las Almas. We first thought it was something to do with Valeria, possibly a new stronghold, but when we took a closer look, the men definitely weren’t from the cartel.”

“Then there is no need to settle, we leave now,” Konig said.

“Hold up, mate, we need a plan. We can’t just barge in there, they’ll just kill her,” Gaz said with a frown.

“What aren’t you understanding? Every minute we waste here the closer we are…that she is-”

“We know you’re worried mate,” Soap said, his ocean eyes washed in empathy, “but we have to do this right way if we even stand a chance of saving her.”

Konig let out a breath, knowing the lieutenant was right, whether he liked it or not.

“Fine,” Konig frowned, “what’s your plan?”

The sound of slapping flesh with flesh followed by groans stemming from you. Your body lurched back as the imposter hit once again, the number you’d lost count of long ago. You could barely remember when you’d arrived at this abandoned mine which was slowly being reclaimed by the earth, threatening to swallow it whole, with you inside. The rickety supports seemed to be giving way with random leaks of spring water making the cave he’d held you up in unbearably humid. The room was blurry, like a smeared red oil painting, but you could see that you were in an opening in the cave. You were tied to a chair, arms tied behind your back with zip ties cutting off the circulation to your wrists, the same with ankles.

You coughed, saliva mixed with your blood dripped from behind your busted lips. Blood spilled from your head due to Richards slamming your head into the ground repeatedly before strapping you to the chair where he continued to beat you in and out of consciousness. You were barely hanging on, your eyes dazed and head bobbing limply, before Richards began to speak.

“You really are a tough cookie to crack, aren’t ya?” Richards chuckled.

You glared up to the man, remaining silent. Richards let out a dramatic sigh as he rounded you like a vulture, walking behind you. You grunted as he yanked a fist full of your hair, forcing your head back.

“You’re making this so difficult for no reason, little bird!” Richards sneered.

You didn’t hesitate to spit in the disgusting man’s face, your saliva mixed with you blood.

“Bite me.”

You half expected for the man to blow up and beat you until you couldn’t see straight, but Richard’s expression became steely, almost emotionless as he stood straight, wiping the spit from his cheek.

“Guess that’s just how it’s going to be then,” he mused, turning back to his table of torture toys.

He ran his leather glove over the cool metals, “you know, Shepherd said he wanted you alive. Although, he didn’t I couldn’t have a little fun with you first.” Your eyes widened in terror as Richard’s hand finally settled on a simple knapsack bag. You knew this tactic, your eyes immediately falling to the buckets of water lined neatly in a row. You thrashed against your constraints as Richards approached you.

“However, I can’t be held liable if you stop breathing along the way, huh birdy?” A sadistic smirk stretched across the man’s face.

At that moment, you prayed. Before this, you never wasted your time but in this instance, you prayed for the one thing that had made you feel safe for so long.

Konig, please hurry.

It had felt like an eternity, but finally the patchwork task force was ready to move. They had planned everything to the ‘T’. Pinpointing the exact cave that Rudy had picked up escalated activity over the last few days, noting how hardly anyone left the mouth of the cave. Noting how they were heavily armed. All of this was semantics for Konig. He didn’t care what was in the way, the point being they were in his way to you. And they would pay dearly for it but none more than this supposed ‘Richards’.

Konig kept his eyes nailed to the other side of the concealed vehicle as they traveled the bumpy dirt roads further into Las Alma’s wilderness in pitch dark of night. His hands mindlessly checked on his weapon, not even sparing a look as he went. His skin was practically humming, he hadn’t felt like this his first deployment. It was a mix of nerves and unspeakable rage that was spilling from between the seams. Finally the van lurched to a stop and Konig didn’t waste a moment slamming the doors open and jumping down into the dirt. He cocked his gun as the rest of the men climbed out of the vans, John clapping a hand on the behemoth’s shoulder.

“Remember the plan-“

“Wipe these sorry abschaum off the face of the earth,” Soap chimed in.

“And recover Shephard’s whereabouts in the process,” Ghost seconded.

“Leave the rat to me, Captain,” Konig said, not as a suggestion, but as an order.

All John could do was nod, “Ale and Rudy, cover us!”

“On it,” Alejandro smirked before nodding and taking off with Rudy to the high hills overlooking the mouth of the cave.

“Move in men,” John ordered.

Konig led the pack, adrenaline pumping through his veins. He kept his rifle ready and aimed as they advanced, staying low. Finally, they made it to the level of the cave entrance, finding two cartel jeeps and some of the hired men standing guard, rifles strapped to their chests. Konig came to halt, his predatory gaze not wavering. Ghost gently pushed the button to his radio, whispering gently.

“Light ‘em up.”

Two shots of sniper fire erupted through the forest trees, some jumpy birds taking into flight from the sudden noise. Konig’s eyes didn’t tear away as two of the five men’s faces exploded into blood and flesh before collapsing lifelessly into the dirt. The three other men were immediately alerted, but they weren’t blessed with enough time to figure out what was quickly becoming their doom before they were gunned down by Gaz and Soap. Konig rose from the bush, making a rush for the cave as more goons began to spill from it. The Austrian hardly blinked as he gunned them down one by one, his breath calm and controlled. It was almost as if routine, and partly it was. Shoot one here, stomp in one head there. It came so easy, like breathing. Perhaps at one time this would have bothered Konig, but he almost felt numb.

He only stepped out of this trance when a gunshot rang out directly in his left ear, leaving it ringing. He blinked, looking to see Ghost standing directly in front of him. Konig didn’t feel anything and definitely not a gun wound. He looked over his shoulder to find one of the men sliding down the wall, a blood trail staining the wall as he fell. Konig looked down at the pathetic man that somehow managed to find his blindspot, and would have used it accordingly if Ghost hadn’t stepped in.

“Get your head out of your arse!” Ghost shouted. “What good are you if you’re dead.”

Konig frowned but nodded, following the lieutenant down the winding cave system. The cave must of been used for drug smuggling in the past, evident by the main made paths and electric lighting hanging limply from the stone ceiling. Konig looked past Ghost and back out the cave, hearing more gunfire.

“The others-“

“They’ll be fine, we have to find Wren,” Ghost said. “Let’s move.”

Konig didn’t argue as he followed the Brit further into the cave. Surprisingly, there weren't many more cartels, not nearly enough to put up a fight. The two winded down the tunnel with lights haphazardly swinging above them, clearing out any ops who stood in their way. Soon, they reached a opening in the mouth of the cave that forked into two.

“Scheiße,” Konig growled, looking between the two paths.

“There’s no time to take both, I’ll take the right and you take the left,” Ghost ordered.

Konig didn’t like this, but he nodded nonetheless. Keeping his rifle aimed as he began his descent through the tunnel. He listened to Ghost’s heavy footsteps echo until he couldn’t hear them any longer. All he could hear was his slow breath as he moved deeper and deeper into the cave. The lights were fewer and fewer but Konig wouldn’t give his eyes time to adjust. He had to keep moving. He had to find you, no matter the cost. Keeping his ears alert, he couldn’t hear anyone shuffling in the dark with him.

Konig’s eyes squinted at a dim light at the end of the tunnel, coming from around a corner. He did his best to make his heavy steps lighter as he slowed his pace, coming closer to the bend. He pressed himself against the cold stone of the cave, listening. For a moment there was nothing, only silence. Konig prepared to take another step when he heard it. The sound of breathing. Faint, gargled, breathing. It was enough for the adrenaline to shoot through his veins like lightning as he rounded the corner, rifle aimed.

The heat underneath Konig’s skin cooled to ice from the vision in front of him. It was a room of sorts, mined and carved from the mountain’s belly and lined with flickering lights. In the center of the room was a small frame, quivering like a leaf. Female, evident on the lack of shirt, leaving her in only brassiere and torn cargos. Stained a gruesome crimson. Her face obscured, a knapsack pulled over her face. But there was no denying it, he found you.

”Maus!” Konig shouted in a panic, letting his rifle fall to his hip as he rushed to you. His boots splashed in the mud surrounding you, his hands grabbing your frail wrists tied to the steel chair. Konig ripped off the bag over your head — noting how soaked it was in your blood and water—, revealing your swollen and bruised face still crusted in blood.

“Jesus- Wren, Wren, come back to me,” Konig gingerly slapped your cheeks.

Your eyes rolled back from behind your eyelids, still clearly seeing. You could feel someone’s hands on your face. It burned so much, you felt like your throat was on fire but your body was on ice. You hacked, your entire body convulsing as your vision finally blurred into one. You looked into eyes you thought you’d never see again.

“It can’t…Konig-“

“Shh, shh, schatz, save your strength,” Konig said, relief beginning to well in chest.

You were alive, admittedly in bad shape, but still breathing.

“I have to tell the others-“

“You can’t- you can’t be here,” you groaned, head hanging weakly.

“It’s going to be okay,” Konig assured.

You wanted to believe him, truly, but that sickening feeling wouldn’t leave you. You watched as he pulled his radio out, speaking something into it but you couldn’t hear him. Not when your eyes found Richards’ stepping out from the shadows of the cave. Holding a live wire. Your eyes shot wide, throat going dry.

“Konig-!”

But it was too late, Richards threw the live wire connected to a small generator into the puddle beneath Konig and you. The electric current immediately surged through you both. Your body went tense, your back arching as your teeth gritted together painfully. Konig let out a painful grunt, hunching over at the sudden assault. You let out a wail, spamming against your restraints. You could feel yourself losing consciousness, it felt like an eternity before the current eventually stopped. Konig collapsed into the dirt face down with a groan. You could hear his heavy breaths, easing your anxiety slightly. He was still alive, for now. You could feel the hot blood drain from your nostrils, whimpering.

“You couldn’t just stay away could you,” Richards tutted, “had to make a mess of things.”

You called to the colonel weakly, voice quieter than a mouse, as he struggled to lift himself up onto his knees. You could see his eyes from his mask, burning with rage. Terrifying. Richards came around to you, wrapping his fingers in your matted hair and yanking up, pulling a cry from you.

“All this bloodshed, for a medic? How foolish,” Richards rolled his eyes. “Is it even worth it?”

“Shut up,” Konig said through his teeth.

Richards laughed, letting your head fall, “I can’t help but feel a little moved. The infamous Task Force 141, the bloodhounds of the finest military men, come together for a little treasonous coward? Could be a movie.”

“The only treasonous coward I see is you,” Konig growled, glaring up at the man as he assessed how much time it would take for him to rip Richards limb from limb.

“See, that’s where your wrong my friend,” Richards frowned, swinging his steel-toe boot right into Konig’s gut.

Konig gasped, rolling on to his side, holding his torso but Richards’ wouldn’t relent. He stomped on Konig repeatedly, over and over and over. You thrashed in the chair, screaming for the bastard to stop.

”You see, because of that stupid bitch over there, I had to come out of my early retirement and clean up her mess!” Richards shouted, eyes wild as he continued his assault on Konig. “She became a threat to the US the minute she saw that fucking file, and it’s been my fucking job to eliminate that threat. Until then, I intend on finishing the fucking job — but I sincerely hope you don’t take it personal. It’s just business!”

You didn’t know when you cracked the knuckles in your hand to slip your hand through the zip tie, but you quickly on feet. You swung the metal chair at Richards head, throwing him off of Konig. He stumbled a bit but you wouldn’t allow him to gain stability on his feet again. You grunted as you kicked his knee back into a position it shouldn’t have been before suckerpunching him right in the jaw. The pathetic man toppled back into the mud with a shout, grasping at his wounded knee. You stomped on his knee making him scream like the worm he was.

You saw red as you lifted the chair above head before shoving the back of the chair directly on Richards’ neck. He hacked and gasped for air, squirming like a dying fish on shore. You applied your entire weight on the chair, squeezing all the air from the man’s lungs.

“Rot in hell, bastard,” you growled, as Richards’ pleaded pathetically for his life.

You jumped on the chair, hearing a blood-curdling pop underneath the metal. Richards’ heads stopped struggling, falling slowly to his sides, eyes rolling to the back of his head. All was silent. You stood over his body for a moment, listening to Konig struggle to lift himself to see what you’ve done. You slipped your other hand from the zip tie, throwing the chair somewhere in the room. Your eyes never left Richards, watching carefully for any sign of life. He laid still. But that wouldn’t be enough.

Rage poisoned your blood as your eyes immediately fell to the pistol still strapped to the deadman’s leg and without a second thought you yanked it away from him. Like clockwork, that’s all it was, you unlocked the safety and shot the man right between the eyes. The gunshot rang in your ears and echoed through the cave system. Followed by another. And another. And another.

You screamed with fury, loaded more and more bullets into the man’s skull. Konig moved quick to wrap his arms around, his hands taking over yours.

“Stop, stop!” Konig pleaded, aiming the gun up to the ceiling.

You let out a strangled scream as you fell onto your knees, emotions hitting you like a freight train. Sobs racked through your body, unable to hold them back. Konig watched in heartbreak as you finally allowed yourself to fall apart. He looked upon Richards, but not for long. There was nothing left of him. Konig chucked the pistol somewhere in the cave limping over to you before kneeling.

“Mein Maus, you’re okay now, you’re safe,” Konig whispered, his large hands carefully holding your arms.

He hated how you flinched, signaling for him to back off. His stomach lurched as he watched you sob, body shaking uncontrollably. Konig’s ears twitched at the sound of footsteps rushing around the corner. He scrambled for his rifle, not wasting a second to aim it at the intruders.

“Hold your fire!” A booming Manchester voice snapped him out of it.

Konig’s shoulders slouched seeing Ghost and Soap appear from the shadow of the cave.

“Steaming Jesus,” Soap said, immediately rushing to you. “Lass, lovie look at me, look at me.”

You were spent, barely able to keep your head up as Soap tried his best to look for signs of concussion in your eyes. Ghost looked over to Richards’ corpse, clicking his tongue.

“You didn’t have to send him out like that,” Ghost frowned beneath his mask, obviously talking to Konig.

Konig shook his head, his eyes never leaving you, “it wasn’t me.”

Ghost eyes widened in unexpected shock before turning to you, covered in a mix of Richards’ and your own blood.

“Fuck.”

“We gotta get ‘er movin, LT, she won’t last much longer,” Soap chimed in, his voice serious for a change.

This statement alarmed Konig as he felt his blood pressure raise impossibly higher.

“We have to-“ Konig grunted as he limped on his bad leg.

“Easy,” Ghost said, lifting Konig’s arm around his shoulder, “you won’t be much help to her if you end up dead yourself, remember?”

Konig grunted but nodded nonetheless. He could only watch as Soap carried you bundled in his arms, nodding to Ghost that he was ready to move. You looked and felt so tired, so drained. You felt as if you were moving through jello, threatening to hold you there forever.

“Try to stay awake for me, lass,” Soap said gently.

“This is Bravo 0-7, we’ve got ‘er, get med on standby!” Ghost shouted into his radio.

You felt like the weight of the world was on your chest as you heaved in shallowed breaths. Your head rolled weakly to see Konig and Ghost leading the way. It wasn’t a dream, they were here. They came for you. You let out a small, painful chuckle, breath fading from you.

“Wren, keep those eyes open for me.”

“Wren, ya hear me lass? Wren? WREN!”

The sound of a heart monitor never came unfamiliar to you. You were used to the smell of antiseptic and rubbing alcohol. It came with the territory, and it strangely made you feel at home. You only wished your body didn’t feel like it was on fire. A groan wrestled out of your dry throat and chapped lips as your eyes squeezed tighter. You were so thirsty. Finally cracking your eyes open, you were grateful to find yourself in a dimly lit room with the bed light only slightly illuminating the room. You blinked blearily, desperately trying to clear your vision. You were definitely in a hospital bed, clear by the stiff linen and the itchy hospital gown. You looked down to your arms wrapped in gauze bandages, reminding you of just how you got here. Of that puddle of crimson flesh and blood. Chills rain down your spine as the memories come flooding back.

You went to slowly lift your hand, only to find it weighed down by something. Only when you blinked again did you notice the massive frame lying hunched over on the bed. His arms laid over your legs, almost holding them. His mask partially lifted from moving his head as he dreamt, revealing the growing stubble on his chin. You slowly reached for him, wincing at the pain tingling your nerves. As your bruised fingertips brushed against his skin, his eyes snapped open, narrowing in on your right away. Konig’s gaze softened seeing your watery eyes on him.

“Maus…you’ve finally come back to me,” Konig whispered gently.

He sounded exhausted. Your eyes studied him, finding a splint on his leg.

“You’re hurt,” you croaked.

Konig shook his head, “a bit, but you shouldn’t worry-“

“How could I not worry?” You said, voice quivering.

Konig watched with mild surprise as the tear began to fall uncontrollable, rolling down your chin. You tried and failed to hide your face from him by throwing your arm over your eyes. Ever the awkward military man, Konig never really knew how to react around tears. But for you, it all came so easily. His warm hand found yours, holding it carefully like a fragile bird. Lifted it, bringing it under his mask and to his lips. He gently pressed his lips to the back of your cold hand.

“Mein schatz, please don’t cry,” Konig whispered.

“How- you, you could’ve- I could’ve lost you,” you whimpered like a kicked puppy.

Konig felt his heart break, “as long as you are safe, it’s a price I’m willing to pay.”

“Don’t,” you said, voice unwavering, “Konig, I swear to god, if you ever put yourself in harm's way for me, I will never forgive you or myself.”

Konig couldn’t tear his eyes away from you who finally looked at him.

“Why not?” Konig asked innocently.

You were stunned into silence. You found the answer alluded you, or at least weighed too heavily for you to speak it now. But the blush on your cheeks was indication enough.

“Because…you just can’t, alright? As long as you are with me, then you can’t, ever,” you said.

The words sounded childish coming from you — for God’s sake you had a medical degree! But they were perfect to Konig. The man couldn’t help but chuckle, rumbling deep in his chest.

“I will try my best to remain by your side, liebling,” he smiled, kissing your knuckles.

Butterflies fluttered in your stomach. You wanted to shove them down in the name of professionalism, but you knew you were past that now. The two of you were indebted to each other, intertwined. And it felt so right. Konig stood over you, placing a lingering kiss on your forehead through the mask.

“Would you like me to call the nurse?” Konig said after finally pulling away. “Are you hungry?”

You shook your head, your eyes never straying from his, “no, can we…can we just stay like this for a little longer?”

Konig smiled, indicated by how his eyes crinkled, “of course, maus, whatever you wish.”

Konig sat back into his chair, his hand never leaving yours. You sighed as you both relaxed into the silence, finally safe in his presence. Finally home.

a/n: I am so, so, so, so sorry this took so long. As soon as my semester ended, I got right back to writing this. Thank you for being patient with me! Thank you for reading!

tag list:

@Winters-doll

@unforgettabie

@muomuah

@midwesternwitchery

@frostygiant24-blog

@peachymonsters

@frazie99

@cocrorapop

@nothingkillsyoulikeyourmind105

@hk-4ever

@glizzification-of-liz

@cumikering

@sl00tty-v

@mheerdraws

@herefornanami-s-cake

@that-napa-know-how

@animechick555

@depression-247

#seraphim collections: gentle giant #konig x reader #cod mw2 #mw2 #call of duty

[formulawolff]

too fast - l.h.

pairing: lewis hamilton x assistant!reader

word count: 1.3k

warnings: cursing, ANGST, lewis is kind of an asshole in this but he makes up for it, implication of smut, drug and alcohol usage, idk what else to include so if y'all find somethin' lemme know!

a/n: yeah here we go with the assistant and famous celebrity/athlete trope. i will always be a fan of this trope, no matter what. this fic is also heavily inspired by the song too fast by sonder. hope y'all enjoy! i figured i would take a small break from the toto content for the moment! <3

"so how are things lately?"

the lights of vegas glitter all around as you inhale, shrugging slightly, "could be better, could be worse."

"yeah?"

˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖

"well i'm single," you avoid his gaze as you exhale, the smoke billowing into the cool air, "so yeah, things aren't great. maybe if you paid attention to our conversations you'd know."

"oh, right," he plucks the blunt out of your hands, "i don't know if you know, but i have other shit to worry about right now other than your life troubles."

"fuck you," you scoff, rolling your eyes, "we spend nearly every waking moment together and you don’t even listen to a single word that comes out of my mouth.”

“i mean,” he coughs, “that’s why you’re my assistant, and not my team principal. i don’t have to listen to you.” 

“are you fucking serious right now?” you swivel on your heel, facing him.

lewis hamilton, eight time world champion stands beside you, leaning over the balcony of his suite. beneath you, the headlights of cars flash, the white noise of airplane engines humming overhead. there are the occasional beeps of horns, laughter from the other mercedes crew on other balconies, and the roar of luxury cars as they peel down the straights. 

yet, lewis is as poised as ever, blunt in one hand, a bottle of heineken in the other. his gaze is glossy as he peers over at you, his nose piercing glittering in the dim light. his lips are pursed, as if he was processing the words that just came out of his mouth.

“hey,” he begins, setting the blunt on the ashtray, “i-i didn’t mean that.”

“i would sure fucking hope so,” tears well up in your eyes, heat flourishing through your cheeks and into your neck, “what the fuck is wrong with you? i literally do everything for you. i order all of your favorite things. i organize your ubers, your catering, other deliveries. i make your appointments with stylists. i book your photoshoots. i stock your fridge. i braid your hair for you. fuck lewis, i even call you every morning to make sure you’re up and awake. i can’t even get you to listen to me for three seconds?” 

shaking your head, you bring your hands to your face, in a vain attempt to hide the fact that you were now sobbing. the tears flow, droplets splattering on your top as your shoulders shake, “what the fuck do i have to do to be listened to around here?”

“hey,” lewis takes a step forward, his hands wrapping around your wrists, “hey, i’m sorry. it was just a rough day. qualifying didn’t go as planned. i’m so fucking sorry.”

“s-sorry?” you choke out, “you just told me you don’t even listen to me and all i get is sorry? i know that sometimes practices don’t go according to plan but you can’t just be a fucking asshole and expect me to be okay with it.”

“i know,” lewis exhales, wrapping his arms around you, “i really fucked up, okay? something about your tone just really set me off, and i am so sorry. i got into it with toto earlier, that’s probably why i’ve been so bitter tonight.”

ah, so that was the reason behind the little outburst. 

ever since lewis announced his departure from mercedes at the end of the 2024 season, the once positive relationship between the driver and his team principal was quickly deteriorating. frequent arguments about the car, snippy radio exchanges, and speculations from the press were only contributing to the snowball effect that was going to eventually lead to an inevitable avalanche. 

as lewis’ assistant, sometimes you wondered if you knew him better than he knew himself. over the years, you had practically learned everything under the sun about the british driver. of course, when he came back from qualifying a little quieter than usual, you figured something had happened in the paddock. 

you just couldn’t quite put your finger on what. 

often times, the two of you joked that you acted like an old married couple the way you bickered. yet, there was nothing as hurtful or spiteful as the exchange that happened minutes ago. part of you knew that he didn’t mean it, but part of you couldn’t let it go because of his inebriated state.

sometimes drunk words were just sober thoughts. 

“do you really think you don’t have to listen to me because of my status?” 

“no,” his voice is small, “i don’t think that.”

“then why did you say it?”

“i d-don’t know,” you can hear his voice falter, “i-i was just upset from earlier. i usually don’t lash out like that.”

a sniffle fills your ears, his chest heaving slightly. glancing up, you notice the glimmer of a tear as it slips down his cheek, the driver’s lip trembling.

“lewis,” the notes in your tone are gentle, “is everything okay?”

“no,” he shakes his head, “i-i’m sorry.”

“what’s wrong?”

“i do listen to you,” squeezing his eyes shut, he allows you to wipe away a tear, “i promise i listen to you. i don’t want you to ever feel like i don’t. i’m sorry, i’ve just had a lot on my mind lately and–”

“don’t worry about me,” tenderly, you caress his cheekbone with the pad of your thumb, “i promise that i will survive. maybe you can hook me up with someone on the grid, yeah?”

“i can’t do that.”

“why not?” you arch a brow. 

“because there is no one else i would want you with on that grid but me,” his eyes open, meeting yours, “i’m so upset because i hurt you. i have feelings for you, and seeing you hurt like that, it nearly split me into two.”

“lewis,” your breath hitches in your throat as he leans in, the tip of his nose brushing against yours, “i-i don’t know what you want me to say.”

“come on,” he tuts, “you know why you ended things with that guy. he was getting frustrated at how much time we were spending together. and in your heart, you know that you can’t stay away from me. the way you look at me, i know that you feel the same way. you wouldn’t learn how to do my favorite hairstyles if there wasn’t some sort of love there. you wouldn’t order my favorite food without asking if you didn’t care. you wouldn’t spend all of this time with me if you didn’t like me.”

“maybe i do, just a little bit.”

“only a little bit?” he cocks his head, “you can’t just admit you’re in love with me?”

“what if i was?”

“hmm,” he hums, his mouth only millimeters from yours, “i’d tell you i was in love with you too.”

“you would have to promise me something, though.”

“anything.”

“would you slow down a little on your lifestyle?” you inquire, slightly testing the waters to see how far you could go. 

“and what does that entail?” a hand finds its way to the base of your neck, warm and comforting as a breeze rolls through.

“would you quit going to the strip clubs? driving recklessly? living the fast life?”

“if it meant that it would make you happy and secure, yes,” the words are brimmed with authenticity, “i want to make you the happiest woman on earth. i’d do anything for you.”

“would you quit tomorrow?”

“oh love,” he chuckles, “i’ll quit this instant.”

“and i’ll keep taking care of you.”

“promise?” his voice softens, “you promise you’ll stick by my side? even after i leave mercedes?”

“i promise.”

the corners of his lips curl into a smug smirk, the driver leaning in even closer. 

“that only means we get to seal that promise with a kiss then, huh?”

#lewis hamilton #f1 #formula 1 #formula one #lewis hamilton x reader #lewis hamilton x you #lewis hamilton x y/n #formula one x reader #formula 1 x reader #lewis hamilton fic #formula one fanfic #formula one fanfiction #f1 x reader

[armored-angel4798]

2023

Steve knew, the moment he saw Eddie’s first message that he wasn’t going to like what they had to say.

EdM0112: Are you busy?

KingSteve: no, why?

EdM0112: I have some silly little news to give you. It’s nothing bad!

KingSteve: what is it? Wait, let me guess, YOU’RE PREGNANT!

EdM0112: hahaha, no, nothing like that.

KingSteve: so what?

EdM0112: I am engaged!

KingSteve: oh, really? That’s Great!!!

It was, in fact, not great. Steve felt like he couldn’t breathe. His chest felt so, unbelievably heavy and tears started pouring, unbidden, down his cheeks. Robin. He needed Robin, she would know how to help him. She helped him the last time his pesky feelings came out of the hole he had buried them in.

See, Eddie and Steve had never been good together. Steve was well aware of this fact, thanks to endless hours of talking to Robin. They were teenagers when they first got together, and neither of them had any clue how a relationship should work. Eddie was figuring themself out and they weren’t comfortable with Steve’s easy affection or deep wells of devotion and love. Steve had been too much. He had loved much too hard and much too fast and it ran Eddie away. They had never been good at the communication side of the relationship either. They were never on the same page or even in the same book most of the time. Yet, none of this had stoped Steve from giving his heart to Eddie. None of this made him think for even a millisecond that they couldn’t figure it out, that they couldn’t be together, that they wouldn’t be together forever.

Steve had always thought that he would be the one putting a ring on Eddie’s finger. Until Eddie handed his heart back to him in a million tiny pieces.

2019

“Eddie, please. I love you, Eddie.”

“Steve, we aren’t good for each other, can’t you see that? We haven’t done anything other than hurt one another this whole past year of dating.”

“You don’t have to do this Eddie! I can be better, I can be whatever you need me to be, just please don’t leave me.”

“Steve, the fact that you don’t see how fucked up that is only solidifies that this isn’t good for either of us.”

Steve was sobbing. He was sobbing and Eddie was mad at him. He just needed to know what he was doing wrong. He could fix it. He had to fix it. If Eddie left it would just prove what his parents had always shown him. He is unloveable. He is never good enough. Never strong enough. Never caring enough. Never enough. He just wanted to be enough.

“Steve, this has to be over. For both of us.” Eddie sounded so exasperated. So tired.

Steve nodded, still sobbing.

“I’m… I’m sorry that I couldn’t make you happy, Eddie. I’m sorry. Please, I love you.”

“And I’m sure I will always love you, but I’m leaving. I have to go. I can’t be myself here, Steve.” Eddie was whispering now, running their cool hand down Steve’s cheek. Steve watched Eddie’s tears roll down their own cheeks as they wiped his away. “I’ll still be just a phone call away, but I have to move on.”

Steve grabbed Eddie’s wrist and nodded. Giving up hurt worse than anything but he couldn’t keep causing Eddie pain. He couldn’t keep them here if they would be unhappy and anything other than wholly themself. Eddie moved across the country that day and never looked back.

2023

Steve isn’t really sure when he called Robin, but he apparently did because she was here. She was picking him up off of the floor that he had sank to, his phone still on the couch cushion behind him.

“Hey, hey, Steve” she patted his cheeks and he blinked. “There you are. What happened Stevie? You called but never said a word so I came to check on you. You don’t look good. Why are you crying?”

Steve brought his own hand up to his cheek, it came back wet.

“Eddie is getting married.”

“Woah, okay. I didn’t even know they were dating anybody.”

“Me either” Steve whispered.

“And how are you handling this information?” Steve gave her a glare that he’s sure lost some of its sterns by his no doubt puffy eyes. “Yeah, so not great.” Steve snorted. “Do ya want to talk about it.”

“I thought I was done with this. I thought I had moved past it. Why? Why did I break the moment they told me that they were engaged.”

“I’ve gotta be honest here, Steve, the situation you put yourself in wasn’t the best. You knew Eddie was moving on. They told you they were. You never really let them go. You stayed close and kept your own hopes up. This just crushed them.”

Steve flopped his head over on her shoulder.

“Why cant you be my therapist, again?”

“Conflict of interest, babe. I would be too clouded by my love for you to give you the advice you need.”

“It’s never stopped you before.” Robin chuckled and ruffled his hair. “I don’t think I ever actually let myself work through my heartbreak. I just kind of shoved it down far enough that it wasn’t a problem to keep talking to Eddie as if they’d never broken my heart. I still wanted them to be my best friend. Eddie knows me better than almost anyone, besides you, and it felt harder to lose that than to bury my feelings.”

“Yeah, you’ve buried more than you would ever let anyone you love even think of going through. Don’t you think you’ve held on to enough? Just let it go, Steve. It’ll be okay. I’ll be here.”

“You won’t leave me too?” Steve’s voice sounded so so small, even to himself.

“Never.”

And Steve broke.

#Steve Harrington needs a hug #steve harrington #eddie munson #robin buckley #steddie #stranger things #st #this is really as okay as it’s gonna get right now. #I’m sorry #i was having a bad day when i wrote it. #angst #it’s very sad

[cooloddball]

honestly, i always felt the same where "charles fell first, max fell harder". i never quite imagined it to be the same as those typical tropes where one loves quietly and the loves violently and suddenly though i totally think it is them when described as such.

i do think charles has been interested in max since he was younger, but it just manifested itself as intense rivalry where both parties had something to prove to get to the big leagues. charles could perhaps feel himself sink slowly into the story that is max verstappen and wanted nothing to do with it, and so he fights. he fights it, he doesn't want it, but soon he succumbs and finds himself chasing after the only benchmark that matters. it started when they were children, it continues into adolescence and it dies down when moving up the feeder series. it's only when they're both in formula 1 where charles continues to keep his interest quiet, keeps watching max, allows to give his honest feelings about potential rivals and never fails to bring max up. it's not like he's shy to talk about max, nor is he shy in walking right up to max. but it's tense, it's awkward and neither of them know how to react.

charles had certainly expressed his disdain in austria 2019, with how much he's willing to put love aside for the win. but that too has dissipated, because in the end, charles has fallen for max long ago, and even with his petty and grudging-held hands, he'll talk and joke like nothing even happened.

really it's only recently that charles and max interact more often than not. and it's in these moments where you can see charles treat these moments with slight reverence, as something to keep, as something to have fun with. he laughs, he smiles, he giggles whenever max does something because he's just that enamoured. he defends max in the media, he understands what max has to say, he knows just how much max has left an impact on the formula 1 world. he fell first, all the way back they were teens, he doesn't have a lot of expectations now, not when it's all destroyed by max. bc ofc it has to be max to destroy what charles thought was the norm.

in comparison, max fell harder. it may look like he fell first, and maybe he did. maybe he found a friend in charles, maybe he wanted nothing but peace ever since the start ever since they were both kids with big dreams. but they couldn't be friends, not now, they were born to push each other to the limit no matter what. so their interactions were always rough from the start and it's muddy and unclear to see who would fall first but i think max would perhaps set his feelings aside as soon as he reached the pinnacle of motorsport, whereas charles would use it as fuel to keep going.

max fell harder because it just consumed him over the years because as soon as charles entered the paddock and took the formula 1 world by storm after being accepted into sauber, max had claimed charles as his rival. not anyone else. just charles. it's these interactions, ones that range from shooting glances to just straight up approaching him without a plan — looking at you monaco 2022. maybe austria 2019 is the first instance max finally realised himself, how he kept brushing aside charles' anger to end with the great unfollowing. maybe, when spa and monza swings around, he saw how the podiums treat charles and that's when it gets worse. max just keeps initiating the interactions, is the first (most of the time) to keep praising charles, to go up to charles and just talk and maybe in the middle of it he realises just what he's doing. singapore 2019 had been a disaster of an interaction — what do you mean geography nerd max verstappen, someone who can recite which flag comes from which country, doesn't know the difference between the flags of singapore and monaco? and it just grows worse and worse because he just doesn't stop. why would he — it's not the way he's raised.

ANYWAY BASICALLY, you can def swing it either way as to who "fell first", and who "fell harder". and maybe they both fell at the same time, but charles loves with soft adoration and max loves and loves and loves until he cannot.

(p.s. sorry for the long ask LMAO you can reply to this mess or not, i just wanted someone to talk to about this take hsjdkd)

first of all anon i love you. i love you. i love you 3000 because i love long asks and yours especially because it’s like poetry. so no, your apology for long ask is not accepted because this is so beautiful and describes their dynamic just the way i have always seen it circa 2022.

ps. i have re-read this 5 times and it still makes me grin like an idiot. there’s nothing i could possibly add to this. also feel free to stop and share whatever is on your mind about those two ♥️

#asks #lestappen #this is the single best take on their dynamic that i have ever read and no it’s not because we share the same sentiments… #about who fell first and who fell harder

[thisgirlnamedblusy]

Hi,

Could I perhaps request GP!Donna x maid in a situation loosely similar to Donna and Mihaela from your fic but not quite. Basically reader is Donna’s maid(not bc of Miranda just a normal maid) and they both catch feelings and get kind of together in the sense that they are lovers but haven’t quite spoken about what they mean to each other. Reader has a kid by Donna and starts to feel insecure as the months go by…….who exactly are they in her life? Maid? Lover? Spouse? Co-parent? Dalliance?

Feel free to ignore and hope you have a great day!

(PS really love your fic and other oneshots)

YesYesYes!!! You're the first one to request me something about this fandom!!! Thank you very much!! Have you enjoyed my fic? Oh, that's great! Thank you again, your words lift my spirit! <3 Here it is!! I hope you like it, and I hope this is what you wanted!!! Sorry about the language mistakes!!! Thank you again!!! :)))))

What am I to you?

Pairing: Donna Beneviento x Fem, Maid! Reader

Warnings: Angst, insecurities, slightly implied smut, G!P Donna, they have a baby,

Word count: 5,161 (sorry if it's too long)

Summary: You have to work, it's the only way to take care of yourself in that village. Then, you met her, a strange woman that has a thing for hidding her feelings as well as her face...

N/A: Again, sorry about the language mistakes!! Requests are open!! I love you all :))))

Some people say that fate is inevitable, that from the moment you are born, you have a purpose in life, a marked path that you must follow, that you will do it even if you don't want to, even if you don't even realize it.

Surely the people who said that nonsense didn’t live in that village.

Even though when you were little you dreamed of the day you would leave that place, that leaving there would be your fate, it didn't take you long to realize that you were wrong.

The years passed and you grew up, seeing how the world around you remained the same. There was no future. Sometimes you thought that time didn't even pass in that place.

For a 20-year-old girl like you, there was no way out. Your parents already had too much trouble raising chickens to feed you and your siblings. Praying to Mother Miranda was not enough to guarantee even something as basic as your survival.

If you didn't want to spend the rest of your life serving an unwanted husband, you had to do something.

What was the only thing a young woman like you could do in that place to feel fulfilled? So you don't have to get married? To serve.

Not to serve an ungrateful man whom you didn’t love, but to serve those people who were above you, the lords.

Like any girl who grew up in that place, you had heard horrible things about all of them. They were like scary stories to tell by the light of a campfire. You never really knew how much truth and fantasy there was in those stories.

“What do you want, young lady?” The lady of the castle, Alcina Dimitrescu, asked.

The legends always erred on the side of exaggeration. You had knocked politely on the doors of her castle, as you knew several of your friends had done. You were no worse, or clumsier than them. It wouldn't be difficult for you to become just another maid in that place.

“Mm...” She murmured when you finished exhibiting all your qualities, which were not few. “You certainly impress me…. What did you say your name was?”

“(Y/N),” you said, sure of yourself, but trembling with fear at being in that castle.

“(Y/N)...” The lady in white sighed, “I would like you to be my maid, but…”

“But?” You repeated immediately, scared by that reaction.

“You see, lately my maids are having room problems. I know it seems like a poor excuse, after all the castle is big but... Believe me, it's not.”

The disappointment was visible on your face. If your childhood friend, the one who even didn't know how to read, had managed to work in the castle, why you not?

“Surely you don't want to spend all day cleaning and taking care of my needs and then have to sleep with two roommates in a tiny bed, right?”

“No, my lady,” you responded with a sigh, bowing your head.

“It's a shame, you're gorgeous...” Alcina whispered, with a listless smile on her face. “But hey, maybe I have something for you. There may be someone who needs a maid...”

After that, she sent you to the house of another of the lords, Donna Beneviento.

No one you knew had worked for her. Well, you had heard that she had a gardener, a man you used to see often at church. One day, he disappeared, you never saw him again.

You hoped that the things they said about that woman were nonsense, and that that gardener was still out there somewhere. You were only fooling yourself, you knew better.

“Who are you? What do you want?” A shrill voice, which bounced in your ears making you cringe, asked you. A doll, Donna's doll, Angie, was the only one who spoke when the door to that house opened.

The lady holding her didn't say a word, she just stood... You assumed, looking at you through the black veil that covered her face.

“I’m... I’m, (Y/N), Lady Dimitrescu sent me. She told me that you needed a maid,” you said timidly.

“I don't need a maid,” the doll said, with a slightly different tone. “Go away.”

You, determined to flee out of the marriage of convenience that your parents had prepared, made a stupid move, putting your hand on the door to prevent it from closing.

“I... I... Please... I'm sure I can be really helpful. I don't need a lot of money and I can clean, cook, do the laundry... I'm sure you need some help it in such a big house.”

“Are you deaf, stupid? Donna told you she didn't need you help,” the doll sang. Yes, the lady was the one who rejected you.

“Please, please... Give me a chance, I can be very useful to you,” you said with pleading eyes, ignoring the doll and looking at the woman in black, who sighed tiredly.

The doll looked at its owner, who remained serene, standing, without moving beyond her breathing.

“Are you so desperate?” the doll asked with a sinister laughter.

“Maybe...” You admitted, lowering your head. “Please, if I don't get the job, they will force me to get married. I'm very good at what I do, I promise, you don't even have to pay at first... At least try me.”

Doll and lady looked at each other, and then their heads turned to you.

“Oh, it's fine. You will stay for a trial week,” the doll said while the lady moved away to let you enter the house.

After those words, you started working at the Beneviento estate.

Cleaning, cooking… Everything you hoped to do. You weren't worried, but you weren't calm either. That woman was strange, lonely. It's like she's trying to avoid contact with you. She always walked like a shadow around the house, as if you didn't even exist.

But you were there. The Angie doll served as a reminder that you were really working, that you were a maid, her maid.

The week passed and… Nothing. You continued with your work. You figured you were useful enough to Donna.

She paid you well, you had a room to yourself and you didn't lack anything. The only bad thing was that incipient feeling of living in absolute solitude, a feeling that grew as the days passed.

How many times you asked her didn't matter, or how many times you looked at that portrait on the stairs. Nothing could resolve your doubts about Donna. Nothing could get her to say a single word to you in her own voice.

“Where did you learn this recipe?” The lady asked one night, making you turn around immediately. You hadn't hallucinated, it was her voice. A soft, hoarse voice. She was really asking you.

“Oh…. Well… I have been cooking since I was very young. I have 4 brothers and my mother couldn't handle everything by herself,” you explained, feeling a strange relief when you let your voice come out of your throat. It wasn't unusual for you to go entire days without speaking in that house.

“Mm,” Donna murmured, nodding, making the fabric of her veil move slightly.

It may have seemed like a stupid conversation, but after that one, many more came, increasingly longer and more interesting conversations.

You may have been afraid at first, especially when you remembered that poor gardener, but little by little you began to relax. She didn't seem like an evil woman, just strange, complicated. You knew that she had problems, that she often had a hard time controlling her emotions. It was never a problem for you. Your hand on her shoulder and words of comfort were enough for Donna to relax.

That strange confidence settled in, like another routine in your tasks. A conversation about literature, lived experiences, anything... Anything other than what was behind that black veil.

When you accidentally discovered it, everything went back to the beginning, as if it had been a complete restart.

Donna was a beautiful woman, despite the scar that covered her right eye. You probably had more important things to think about, but ever since you saw her face, you couldn't help but remember it each hour of the day.

Being attracted to a beautiful woman was not strange for you, but your conscience told you over and over again to forget about those feelings.

“You don't have to cover yourself, my lady. You are a beautiful woman,” you said one night coming up from the kitchen, watching as Donna put on her veil so that you couldn't see her once again.

“Liar,” she whispered, barely with a thread of voice.

“I'm not lying,” you said in response, moving closer to the table.

“I'm not going to raise your salary because you flatter me. I don't need your false compassion,” your wife scolded you, holding the fork tightly.

 “It's not what I intend”

“Liar!” Donna screamed, for no reason beyond the embarrassment she felt about her face.

There were a couple of tense weeks, weeks when you were somewhat afraid. If Donna got angry, something bad would happen, or so the people in the village said.

Things calmed down as time went by. What didn't calm down was your attraction to the woman in black, who seemed to forget about that little incident and regain the trust you had worked so hard to earn.

This attraction worsened to the point that you were the one who needed to be close to her, have those absurd conversations and feel the fabric of her dress very close to yours.

A short time later, after a small discussion relating again to the beauty that she denied having, your lips collided impatiently, melting into a passionate and unexpected, but longed for, kiss.

You could say that everything changed after that kiss, but really... It didn’t.

Everything about Beneviento remained the same. Maybe a kiss, a caress... The vision of Donna without the black veil… They were small and insignificant changes, but not insignificant to you.

Recognizing that you were in love with Donna was an important step for you. You kept wondering if she felt the same way. She may have talked to you. She may have whispered words that you didn't understand, but... You didn't really know what she thought of you, if she felt the same way.

Nothing important, in your opinion. Her hand caressing yours while you read or ate together was more than enough for you.

Her kisses went from being innocent to being desperate, insecure... You could notice her desire in her already discovered gaze, the smile that formed on her lips when you hugged her, when she hugged you.

The heat of those new kisses became almost unbearable. It didn't matter the things she said, the things you thought... You just gasped when her arms surrounded your back, when you lay down on the bed next to her, when you let yourself be carried away by a delirious, almost desperate desire.

Donna might seem like an ordinary woman, but she wasn't one at all. Mother Miranda's infinite power not only caused that horrible scar, but it also made certain things different about her body. It was not a thing that really mattered to you. Until that moment you hadn't even stopped to think about how madly in love you were.

She was affectionate, tender and insecure in her movements. An insecure woman, who trembled at the sight of you naked, at having you at her mercy in a way that you doubt she even imagined.

“I... I've never been with anyone. You'll have to be patient with me...” Donna whispered as she got closer, caressing your cheek while she undressed herself, showing that her attraction to you was more than evident.

“Me neither...” You said, with a lump in your throat, with multiple insecurities that began to cloud that special night.

None of the problems you saw were an impediment to not feeling loved as you did that night. Her movements were erratic, inexperienced, just like yours. Despite this, feeling her inside you, making love to you slowly, without rushing, with her soft moans causing you chills, were enough reasons to stop being afraid, to feel free to love her and be loved.

While her gentle thrusts filled your mind with unimaginable waves of pleasure, your hands cupped her face, caressing it gently.

“I love you,” you said, at the limit of your sanity, when she lifted your legs to have better access to you.

You expected a response, a loving comment. You didn't have it. The only thing Donna did was smile, without stopping moving, closing her only eye to feel even more pleasure being inside your body. That was it: a smile and her warmth settling inside you after a heavy gasp.

Just like your first kiss, making love to Donna didn't change anything in your routine.

Yes, there were many nights in which passion was the protagonist, in which she took you and loved you in an unimaginable way. You even slept next to her many times, hugging her body.

Questions began to plague your mind while, as the months passed, your body began to weaken. Were you starting to have doubts? Of course you had doubts. Donna was gentle, affectionate, kind... She showered you with kisses, compliments, she caressed you, she talked to you about her concerns. She shared her life with you. But, you were nothing but a maid. You continued doing your job, despite your body's discomfort. You served her breakfast, lunch, dinner... You did the laundry, you cleaned the dust...

If she had feelings for you... Why  she didn’t tell you? She doesn’t feel the same?

“There's nothing wrong with her, Donna. She's fine,” the supreme witch of the place, Mother Miranda, said with a sigh, after checking your temperature.

Yes, your discomfort seriously worsened, causing dizziness and nausea to prevent you from doing your job normally.

Seeing the priestess as something similar to a doctor made you shiver, feeling even worse.

“You are very kind, Mother Miranda,” you said respectfully, sitting up on the sofa. The blonde simply smiled, standing up and clasping her hands together.

“Congratulations, Donna. (Y/N) is pregnant,” she said as she was talking about a simple cold.

“What?!” You shouted.

You should have guessed it. Those nights of unbridled passion you had not been careful. Well, more like, she hadn't been careful. The news fell on you like a bucket of cold water, but you couldn't help but feel a certain excitement.

You loved Donna, you really did. There was no other place you wanted to be than next to her. Nothing could change your mind. Despite her silence regarding her feelings, and not knowing what she was to you, or what you were to her, you couldn't deny you were madly in love and that a baby, a child with her, was the best news.

“A baby… It's wonderful, tesoro,” The lady in black whispered, placing a cushion on your back so that you would be more comfortable.

“Yes, it is,” you said with a smile, taking her hand and squeezing it tightly in yours. “I love you, Donna.”

It was a pathetic attempt, one of the many times you tried to get her to return the feeling, to get her to say those three words you so badly needed to hear. Like other times, there was no response, just a horrible silence, followed by a slow and tender kiss on the lips.

Time passed without respite, without letting you think about things coldly. Donna took care of you, you couldn't deny it, even Angie did everything she could to make sure your pregnancy wasn't a problem for you, more than usual, of course.

Maybe it was the hormones, the changes in your body, but you started crying at night, those nights when Donna was already asleep, when her arm passed over your body and her legs served as chains to keep you from leaving.

Joy, sadness, disappointment... You didn't know exactly why you were crying. Well, you had a slight idea. You had everything you wanted: a home, a wonderful woman by your side... Did you have it?

Every day, when the sun set behind the mountains, you looked at the horizon wondering if you were really as important to her as she was to you.

While you caressed your increasingly bulging belly, you thought about everything you experienced every day. Kisses, words of love, affection, smiles and caresses to your belly...

It might seem like enough, but it wasn't. The most important thing was still missing: an I love you from her lips, a marry me. What were you and Donna really like? What were you to Donna?

The torture that your pregnancy entailed ended months later, causing this new being to be born in the bed where it was conceived. Hours of pain, suffering, words of support and an irrational fear of bleeding to death, despite being well cared. But it was all worth it. Little Giulia Beneviento had been born and she was more beautiful than Heaven itself.

The baby meant a radical change in your life. Now you had someone to take care of, who you and Donna loved dearly. She helped you with everything she could. If she had been any other way, you would have been devastated.

But all that joy that Giulia caused had an expiration date. It didn't last long, like a glass of water on a hot day. Doubts and fear returned to your bed every night to not let you sleep.

Lack of sleep was present in your usual tasks. You didn't even know why you kept acting like a maid. You weren't, or so you wanted to think.

“(Y/N), I don't think I could live without your food,” Donna said, while you had dinner together, like every night.

You barely moved after those words, after those praises that had become a routine that was beginning to consume you.

Mimicking her usual responses to your declarations of love, you briefly lifted your corners to offer a fake, half-hearted smile.

“Now that the weather is starting to be nice, we could go for a walk in the forest, I'm sure Giulia will love it,” she said, ignoring your gesture of contempt.

Your patience had been exhausted for a long time, long before the girl was born. You were nervous and anxiety had caused you to become a very different person than you already were.

“She's two months old, Donna, I doubt she can even notice,” you responded, drinking your glass of water and setting it down on the table with a thud.

“Well... I...” The doll maker stammered, playing with the spoon in her soup, disturbed by your reaction.

“Besides, tomorrow I have to do the laundry. I don't think I have time for a stupid walk,” you said, wiping yourself with the napkin, causing Donna to look at you suddenly, with a cold and a scared expression.

“Oh, come on, (Y/N), that can wait,” Donna said, smiling the way she knew made you melt.

“Really?” You asked immediately, before her beauty prevented you from saying what you thought, again.

“Tesoro, are you okay?” The lady in black asked, studying your cold expression carefully.

“I'm fine, don't you see me?” You responded ironically.

“(Y/N)...”

“Of course I'm not okay!” You screamed, letting that repressed rage come out, slamming your fist on the table, making what was on top of it shake dangerously. “I'm fed up, Donna.”

“Fed up?” She asked, with a familiar gleam in her eye. Anything would make Donna lose control, but for some reason, she knew how to stay calm. For a moment, in your rabid alienation, you wished you had never taught her how to control her anxiety.

“Yes, fed up,” you repeated with a grimace of disgust. “I'm sick of you.”

“What have I done?” She asked curiously, with her hands trembling on the table.

“Stop pretending you're an idiot, Donna, I know you're not,” you said, standing up abruptly. “Tell me, what the hell am I to you?”

“You know I don't like when you talk like that,” she hissed angrily, hardening her gaze.

“I don't give a shit,” you replied, letting your subconscious enjoy disobeying her. “I've been here for two years, with you, and I don't even know what I am.”

“What are you?” She asked, shaking her head.

“What are we, Donna? We are lovers? Am I your wife, your girlfriend? What do I mean in your life? I've been trying to tell you all this time the things I feel about you and you do nothing but ignore me...” You said furiously, narrowing your eyes.

“I don't…”

“Shut up!�� You interrupted, making her step back, resting her back on the chair. “You have no idea how stupid I feel… How distressing it is not to know how the hell you feel about me.”

“(Y/N)...”

“I said... Shut up,” you growled, resting your hands on the table, leaning in to look threatening. “Now it is my turn to speak, even if I am just your maid. Is that true? I am just your maid, the mother of your daughter, a servant...”

“What are you talking about? Tesoro, I...” Donna said, shaking her head, blinking in disbelief.

“We've been together a long time, Donna. We have laughed, we have cried. Damn, we made love, we have a damn daughter and I'm still serving you breakfast every morning. If only that's what I mean to you, have the courage to tell me.”

“You're wrong, (Y/N)”

“Did you even ask me if I wanted to have a baby? No, you didn't. You have always done what you wanted with me. Now I'm starting to realize it.”

You didn't want to bring up that topic. You didn't want to tell her that you weren't ready to be a mother. Giulia was the most important person in your life. You decided to keep those first thoughts to yourself.

“You never say that you love me...” You murmured, calming your nerves, letting a tear slide down your cheek. “You don't need to be a genius to know what that means. You never loved me. Damn, if you keep paying me to be your maid, do you know how that makes me feel?”

“You're just talking nonsense...” Donna whispered, gritting her teeth, letting you know with her eye  that you were making her more and more nervous.

“Nonsense? Is showing your feelings nonsense to you? Very good, very good, Donna,” you said nodding, moving away from the table. “I resign.”

“What?”

“You’ve heard me, pay me what you owe me and I'll get out of here. And Giulia is coming with me.”

“Don't you dare to leave!” She shouted, getting up furious.

“Oh? Are you threatening me? Now I’m clear about what do you think,” you said mockingly, defiantly.

“(Y/N), I, I don't...” Donna said, breathing deeply so as not to scream again.

“You're no better than your siblings, Donna,” you said.

“No, I'm not like them,” she defended herself, clenching her fists. “I… I…”

“You, what?” You insisted, making her shake her head and her breathing hitch again. “I deeply regret being so in love with you. Don’t worry. I don't have the courage to leave. I guess you've been lucky with me being your slave,” you sighed, feeling that statement was terribly true. “I hate loving you!”

Her eye was cold, angry. Her gaze didn’t leave yours but her lips didn’t move. They remained half open.

Your tears ran down your face and crashed onto the wooden floor.

“Hello hello!” A shrill voice interrupted that argument. Angie arrived from the elevator. “Little Giulia is crying, I think she is hungry,” she said in a sing-song voice.

You sighed, closing your eyes and nodding.

“Okay, I'm going to feed your daughter,” you said contemptuously, taking one last look at the table. “Don't worry, Lady Beneviento, then I will pick this up like the maid I’m.”

To emphasize your anger, you walked past her, bumping her shoulder on the way. She didn't move. She stayed rigid, in the same position. She didn't even turn her head to look at you. You didn't worry too much about it either. You had said the things you wanted for a long time.

“Let's see...” You murmured as you picked up your daughter from the crib. She was crying inconsolably. “Don’t cry, my love. Mom is with you,” you said with a broken voice, sitting on the bed to feed the baby, who calmed down as soon as she touched your skin.

You couldn't help but sob, even with the little girl in your arms, you felt deep sorrow. You thought that everything you had experienced was just an illusion in your head, that Donna's cowardice in saying what she thought was simply that, cowardice.

But you were sure that you were no more to her than any maid in the castle was to her lady.

“Your mother Donna is stupid, you know?” You said affectionately, stroking the baby's black hair. “But… I love her. I will love her even if she doesn't feel the same way about me.”

The baby sighed, causing the false sensation that she was listening to you.

“I just want to her to be able to tell me what she thinks, what she feels...” you murmured again, when Giulia squirmed in your arms, indicating that she was done. “But… You know what? It doesn’t matter. If I'm sure of one thing, it's that your mommy Donna loves you madly. You should feel lucky. At least she tells you, she will always tell you.”

“(Y/N)...” A hoarse, broken voice sounded behind the door. You rolled your eyes, as you lovingly moved the baby in your arms. “Please, let me in.”

“Do it if you want to, this is YOUR home,” you whispered reluctantly, getting rid of the baby's gases.

The woman in black entered. Her face betrayed tears and regret. But you were too tired.

“Your daughter eats too much,” you said. “She has drained every last drop of my energy. I don't have the strength to talk to you, Donna.”

The woman sat next to you, petting the baby, but without looking you in the eyes.

“When I was 14, I fell in love with a girl from the village,” she began to say, picking up the baby from your arms and rocking her daughter to sleep.

You didn't want to, nor did you feel like shutting her up again.

“I know it was impossible for her to feel the same. My scar wasn't as horrible as it is now, but people still avoided me. I thought that... Maybe if I told her what I felt, she would listen to me.”

“There was nothing wrong with your scar then and there is nothing wrong with it now,” you said seriously, also avoiding looking at her face.

“Well, I... I wrote her a letter, telling her what I felt about her. Do you know what her response was? No one could ever love you, you are a monster,” the lady in black said sighing, repressing a sob.

“I'm sorry,” you managed to say, feeling that your idea of ​​seeming angry was blurred by the mere fact of hearing her voice.

“One morning, my parents told me that they were going to take a trip, that it would only be a few days. I told them I loved them before they leave,” she continued telling, her voice becoming weaker, her hands trembling as she cradled her daughter.

“I don't understand what that has to do with...”

“They died that day. They jumped into the void, in front of me,” Donna explained. You knew that story, but you had never dared to ask her about it.

Donna stood up, carefully placing her daughter in her crib, tucking her in tenderly, before sitting back down next to you.

“Don't you understand, (Y/N)? All the people I have loved have hurt me, or abandoned me,” she said with a slightly stronger tone, her breathing heavy.

“So the best thing is to never love anyone again, right?” You said with a bit of irony.

“Do you think I don't love you?” She asked suddenly, turning her head towards you, now looking into your eyes.

“I don't know, Donna,” she sighed.

“Girlfriends, lovers, wives... All of them are just meaningless words, labels. They don't mean anything to me,” she said, shaking her head, extending her hand to take yours. You didn't take it away.

“But they do for me. You don't know what it's like to be thinking about what I mean to you. Not knowing if the kisses you give me are something more than mere kisses, if you make love to me because you really feel it, or if you do it just for fun. Sometimes people need to know that you love them, you understand?”

“I've never been good at dealing with people,” Donna said with an amused smile, caressing your hand with her thumb.

“Oh, fresh news,” you ironized, letting out a brief laugh that she shared with you.

“I, I have always felt alone... Always… Until, until you came.”

“The fool who fills the void of your loneliness... Is that what I am to you?”

“No, (Y/N), you... You are everything that makes me feel like life is wonderful. I like to see you wake up next to me. I like when you hug me, when you love me. I feel like I'm not afraid of dying because hell is insignificant compared to spending the rest of my life without you...”

“Wow...” You said, excited by that strange statement. “I guess that means you love me.”

Donna nodded profusely, turning your body to face her so she could kiss you softly on the lips.

“I love you, (Y/N). You and Giulia are the only things I care about.”

“I... I love you too,” you said with a smile, kissing her again, relaxing your spirit after hearing the words you longed for so much. “You don’t know how much I do.”

“Could you forgive me?” She asked in a tone of supplication, of true repentance. “I promise you that not a single day will pass without me telling you how much I love you, I promise you.”

“No, Donna... You have to forgive me. I've gone too far with you. I should have understood you better. But…”

“But?” The lady asked, startled.

“You have not answered my question. What are we, Donna? What am I to you?” You asked, running a hand over her cheek, suppressing the desire you had to kiss her deeply.

“You are...” Donna whispered, searching for an answer in the cracked walls of the bedroom. “You are my family.”

#donna beneviento x reader #donna beneviento #re8 village #re8 donna #requests

[chiara-klara-claire]

6.2.24 🎉🫥

#I brought cake to work because I gues you have to #colleague asked me what are you going to do tonight #I said not much I think #another done said jeez you’re 26 and not doing anything #and I answered oh yeah that’s for the weekend which is true but still #I’m just so down I don’t even have the energies to pretend it’s fine #I was about to cry #I think I’ll spend the day eating and crying #it’s really great how it only gets worse with time #they say at some point things get only get better but truth is it can always get worse #yesterday tho I almost lost my phone by leaving it at the zelfkassa at the Albert Heijn. thank god I realised it run back & it was t #nothing really make sense and I’m tired of sending cvs #there’s nothing I like and I have to pretend I like everything and everything is cool #i replied in a very dry way to my family wishes bc of how bad I’ve been feeling #I’ll probably eventually just throw something on ig and have 2 people say hbd #it’s all about suffering #this weekend I’ll go to Sweden if things go according to plan and will probably feel like crying most of the time there too #by myself in some hostel bc my friends are too busy for me #there’s always some god eating your heart out right #I think I’ll spend a good amount of time blinding myself with tears #I can’t wait to go to the psychologist

[spider-man-2o99]

makes you read vulture 2099 again makes you read vulture 2099 again makes you read vulture 2099 again makes  you read vulture 2099 again makes you read vulture 2099 again

#talking tag #spider-man 2099 #spiderman 2099 #miguel o'hara #vulture 2099 #marvel #comics #comic panels #something something idk man i justt enjoy these issues theyre Fun #whag do u want from me. the bungled potential is tantalizing when i Want to indulge in ripping and tearing into canon? #as i always say lmao vulture 2099 COULD be a really interesting character. like. the Potential's there #reinforces how Lucky mig was that he came from a life of having as many privileges as he had when he got mutated... and that nobody Saw It. #plus yknow. can also serve as a narrative Mirror for migs worst fears abt himself! what would YOU do if ur intrusive thoughts made manifest- #--called YOU a coward and a capitalist pawn 4 not wanting 2 kill and eat people . and all while wearing THOSE tassled PANTS.... #idk man just something real neat 2 me abt how vulture is the only villain mig kills On Purpose and even then he Runs b4 he hits the ground. #his anger burns out so Fast. he cant even like. make himself watch the Cannibal Gang Boss get turned into street pizza yknow #he feels worse about killing the VULTURE than he ever really did about killing the specialist because he actively CHOSE to do it this time #cutting the specialist's throat w/ his talons was just an Accident caused by him lashing out against an enemy determined 2 Kill Him y/k #yeah it still caused him a great amnt of Distress to accidentally Kill Someone but he does not spend any panels shedding tears over the guy. #but the vulture. the VULTURE stays on his mind for the next 30 issues AT LEAST...... #god this miserable little man. great power and greater guilt and responsibility both a burden and inherent.

[cureblogging]

Gonna say something potentially controversial:

I think Heartcatch suffers from the Up phenomenon in that people remember it as an excellent, if not flawless masterpiece when it actually has One (1) excellent, if not flawless moment in the beginning and is otherwise nothing special.

#pretty cure #babs' musings #precure: heartcatch #i remember sitting there watching 4 episodes at a time and asking myself “so when does it get as Great as people say” #i admire how different it is in tone and style to other seasons. it really stands out in that regard! #but that doesn't make it automatically better (or worse) than other seasons #it was funnier. #but the story? really underwhelming imo #the only notable part about the plot was the very first scene that set the intrigue and mystery of Yuri's character #but what they deliver on that front was extremely disappointing for me #and all the other characters get pretty mid arcs as well #Tsubomi has anxiety about not being good at anything. nothing comes of that besides one or two insults from the villains. #Itsuki has to crossdress in order to continue the family business because her brother has vague illness #that's never confronted in any satisfying way. it just sorta fades away once she decides she likes being a girl #Erika's insecurity regarding her sister is honestly the most engaging of these arcs and that's because I have a little sister #I suppose I set my expectations too high for that season. but people call it The Best Precure Season when it's not even in my top 3 so far #and that's kinda concerning for me going forward #suite is also proving to be a huge bore for me. extremely artificial season going through the motions of the franchise #Hummy... save me. Hummy. Save me Hummy #I really don't want to struggle through 13 more unremarkable seasons in the hopes of recapturing the magic of Futari Wa and Fresh #argh. i hate not liking things #sorry for the rant in the tags.

[danielnelsen]

always fun to remind myself of the side effects of my thyroid meds

#the first time i treated my thyroid my endo was like ‘i havent had a patient who had this happen for a while so im due for one’ THANKS MAN #personal #im just waiting for it to hurry up and work. my health has PLUMMETED in the last week or so #im so sick and i can’t DO ANYTHING. including SLEEP. even if i was getting enough good sleep i was be exhausted but i’m not so. #the energy’s doing Great #and i’m so hungry all the time but also nauseous so all food is unappealing #genuinely have no idea how i made it through years 7-10 undiagnosed. no wonder i ended up with such a severe phobia of going to bed???????? #i don’t have to worry about routine right now so it’s not as stressful (just horrible because i’m so tired) but i COULDNT SLEEP back then #im just relieved that this time it was found through a routine check rather than me getting a test because of symptoms #usually i test when my anxiety gets really bad in a specific way #but my anxiety isn’t bad this time. no panic attacks and also no migraines. those are all usually the worst to deal with #so comparatively this isn’t even a particularly bad episode?/relapse?/flare? #still more sick than i’ve been in……..years? #im not sure if covid was better or worse. but it was only really bad for a week #this’ll be worse overall because it’ll last a lot longer #hopefully only a month or two but that’s still a few months of my life that just vanish. cool!!!!!!!!!!! #and there wasn’t even a notable event to trigger it this time. first time was whooping cough and subsequent times have been things like— #starting uni and then the last 2 years of uni where i took 10 units in one year then overworked myself doing my thesis #im SLIGHTLY worried that maybe i’ve developed rheumatoid arthritis and that set it off because it’s also autoimmune #i should see my gp soon to get a general antibody test. my joint have been so bad it’s been hard to walk for quite a few months #idk man it all sucks. but for now at least i have my white blood cells (even if they’re literally the problem lmao)

[wild-at-mind]

Being in a long distance relationship long term is so fucked up. For context for people in bigger countries I'm not talking flying distance from each other, I'm talking about 3 hrs apart on the train, so not that far arguably. But still far enough that our lives are almost completely separate in the practical sense, no matter how much we talk on the phone or meet halfway. When one of us stays over at the other's place we are still guests in each other's homes. I still don't know what cohabiting would be like and what a comfortable normalicy of being in each other's lives in person every day would be like. We're coming up to our 11th anniversary. I don't want to break up with him!!!! I love him deeply and I've never met someone I'm as compatible with as him. I've never been in love like this and I'm not easy to know, and yet he does know me and likes what he sees. I just feel I am stuck and I am frustrated that my sex life is like once every 3 months. I still don't even know how often we would have sex if we lived together, we haven't had the chance to find that rhythm. When we see each other there's no time to do any more involved stuff it's just getting off. Basically everytthing we've talked about has to stay in the realm of fantasy because there's never any fucking time.

I am trying I said to him- you need to do covering letters and things, you can't just send your CV that has never worked. He's the one who wants out of his current job, and out of his town, but applying for jobs is so fucking hard when you're working full time and trying to do things you love to not get fucking depressed. See I understand those things because I would feel the same way. If he moved here we could find a place together and I could find it out if I actually can live with someone else and stay mentally well. I'm getting too dependent on living alone in order to stay mentally well and it worries me.

Sorry to vent. I'm not looking for advice it's just venting.

#yeah it's embarrassing for a 34 yr old to go on about soul mates but i realy believe we are #i wouldn't be in this situation if we weren't really for real great together because i'm old enough to do right by myself #i can wait and in understand it's hard for someone neurodivergent to make big changes #it would be hard for someone neurotypical! so it must be even worse for him and it's so easy for him to get overwhelmed and crash emotional #as you can see from my rambles i have my baggage too like massive baggage #i worry though because he came to stay like 3 weeks ago for a few days and i was wound up and uncomfortable having a guest #even though it was him- i was hormonal so that could have been it but it's fucking scary #because you just think 'i wish i was alone in my own home right now doing my comfortable routine' #i'm stressing about washing extra dishes but my ocd requires that i'm always the one to wash them #i just want ot not be bothered and yet i feel like shit because i have no idea if it's always going to be like this or just a bad few days! #even though we have fun when we go out and stuff #the living together thing is really stressing me and i only have the last time it happened 3 months ago which i can barely remember #as reference for how i normally feel when he's here #ooooooof :( #fyi he doesn't want to do polyamory as is his right- it's not for everyone #and he has much more to lose in the dating/casual sex area than i would if i did it but i won't go into why

[ssaalexblake]

i’m still mad about that dw magazine what the future looks like headline lol 

#dw shit #the future looks like a white man from 20 years ago stealing the thunder of the black man we hired! how great! #the worst thing abt it is i believe them #strongly suspect the only character that will get respect will be the new blonde (non derogatory i just don't know her or her #character's name) #because she's what #abt 20 and blonde which is approximately the only subset of women in rtd's dw that ever got respect #i'm Mostly just wondering if the fandom will just Let It Go because nostalgia #or pitch a hissy fit wondering what happened to how great it all was not realising that it really Was a product #of its time #(upon rewatch i just let a bunch of stuff go bc of this reason but... If little has changed we've got a joss whe/don sitch on our hands) #(i'm not sure what would be worse btw. either way i'll be irritated) #and yes i have very intentionally Not complained for a long time i am allowed to on occasion #especially considering that was Super tone deaf and Veeeeeery telling #who okayed that???? who???