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lemonlover1110 · 24 hours

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𝐁𝐨𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐅𝐫𝐮𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧

Sukuna

[Chapter 1] Offerings

Story Masterlist

Pairing: Trueform!Sukuna x f!Reader

*Just want to preface that this is a historical AU but there will be some historical inaccuracies so if you see something odd, don't point it out. Also this is still a curse AU! if that isn't clear with four-armed Sukuna. Anyway I hope you enjoy!! Any general story warnings can be found in the masterlist!

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Sukuna is missing something, he’s not sure what it is but he knows that he’s bored. He’s bored of everything that once thrilled him, tired of the same routine. But no matter what he does, he feels empty.

He’s done everything possible to soothe that boredom, which has come to the expense of many lives. It entertained him until it didn’t. Occasionally he does find joy in the horrors that he causes but it doesn’t feel like that’s enough anymore. There’s something that he’s missing, but he’s not quite sure what it is.

He has everything a man could possibly want– Although he isn’t exactly a man so his wants and needs are obviously different. He isn’t going to be fulfilled by the foolish ideals of happiness that men have. He doesn’t have much of a guide though, therefore he’s lost in how to fix his problem.

“Uraume.” Sukuna’s voice isn’t all that loud, yet Uraume nearly comes running to fulfill his request. The temple is uncomfortably quiet; everyone is ready to fulfill Sukuna’s every request, and their king does not raise his voice unless adrenaline rushes through him, or he’s upset. No one knows which is the worst of the two.

“My king.” Uraume kneels down before him. He’s quiet, too embarrassed to even bring up this question. It’s unlike him. Uraume is truly the only person that he respects which is why asking the question is hard for him to actually say. He wouldn’t trust anyone else with it though.

“What do men usually do?” He asks, which is odd for Uraume to hear. Sukuna was a man too, once upon a time. But he doesn’t remember that stage of his life, and he’s sure he wasn’t happy either which is the reason why he’s the monster he is now.

“I’m not sure.” They sound reluctant. “If you could be more clear, I can search for an answer.”

“Get out.” He orders, and they bow again before exiting the room. He wants to be left alone to gather his thoughts. He has all the time in the world to figure himself out, but he wants even more time. He doesn’t want to be bothered now of all times at the very least.

“There’s a woman with an offering.” A servant tells him from the other side of the tatami doors, followed by a shrill cry that makes a smirk come to his lips. That’s his answer.

Sukuna wants a successor.

“Take it to the servants, answer to her needs.” Sukuna answers, not really caring to listen to any requests. His mind is now preoccupied, detailing his next course of action. He needs to find the perfect woman to carry his heir, which he knows will be a hard task– Perhaps the hardest challenge that Sukuna has come by in all of his years of living.

“Please eat, Haru.” You put the bowl beside the young boy’s mat. You’ve been slowly watching your brother’s health deteriorate, slowly watching his death near. Worst of all, you have been looking for a cure that seems impossible to find because it’s not something that’s affecting anyone important.

It’s not a disease that’s affecting anybody else, really. It’s not infectious, you quickly found that out. You were glad about it at first, but then you realized that there’s no cure yet. Days pass by, and he gets worse. He refuses to eat anything, and when he does, he can’t keep it down for more than a few hours. His death is imminent.

“I did everything I could to get the right ingredients for your favorite food. Auntie made it extra special for you.” You make sure to tell him, but he can barely move. You kneel down beside him, grabbing his utensils and preparing a bite. “Just one bite, Haru.”

“I’m sleepy.” Is all he manages to mutter, and you feel a pull on your heartstrings. Your hand caresses his arm.

“Just one bite, okay? Then you can sleep all day.” You try your best to convince him. All he does is sleep, and no matter how many hours he sleeps, he wakes up tired. He prompts himself up, and you’re fighting back a smile– It’s barely any progress, if you can even call it that. “Open up.”

There’s a smile on your lips as you bring the food to his mouth, and he begins to chew. He takes the utensils from your hand, grabbing the bowl of food and putting it on his lap. You stand up and tell him, “I’ll get you some water.”

“He’s finally eating something.” You share with your aunt, making sure your voice is low since there isn’t all that much space. Her eyes go to him, and she really wants to say that it’s a sign of him getting better but it really doesn’t mean anything. Sometimes he eats everything that’s made for him, but he throws it back up.

“I really wish this meant he was getting better… But we both know that he’ll get worse tomorrow.” She responds, and you want to curse her for even mentioning it but you know she’s right. You don’t like hearing it though, you’re helpless. There’s nothing more you can do for Haru, you’re just waiting for the day to come.

“I really think he can get better.” Your eyes begin to feel with tears, knowing that you don’t even believe yourself. You’ve tried everything you possibly can, but you know that his time nears. You can’t just accept that fact though, he’s your baby brother, you can’t let him go. “Let me get his water.”

“I’ll get it… Think about what the medic said.” Your aunt reminds you of the visit from the physician. One that you’ve forgotten because you refuse to consider his one and only suggestion a possibility. The words flow back to your head,

“Your best bet is the deity up north. You have to bring him an offering, and if he deems it worthy enough, he will cure him.” “But if he thinks it’s beneath him, he’ll kill you.”

You don’t want to risk anything, but lately that seems like your only option. He’s not getting any better, even though you so badly want to say that he is. Throwing up everything he eats is not much improvement than not eating at all. You just have to figure out what is considered an offering worthy for the deity to save him, and to save yourself.

“I’ll be back, I have to figure something out.” You say, smiling back at your aunt and your little brother. They barely acknowledge you before you leave the house, which you’re thankful for. You just need a moment to gather your thoughts, decide what you’ll do next.

You need to sort out your offering for the deity, an offering that will hopefully sort out all of your problems.

“My king, there’s a woman with an offering.” It feels like the hundredth time that week in which Sukuna hears that sentence. Humans are greedy beings, and they all fucking need something. It’s unnecessary, purely materialistic– It’s a side of humanity that he appreciates though. How much a human is willing to sacrifice for wealth or the promise of good fortune. Sukuna can’t judge, he's the sole winner in the end.

“Let her in.” He says, and the tatami door slides open. A poor maiden with a pale yellow kimono, and a woven basket in hand. You walk in with your head down, following the strict instructions that were given to you.

You’re trembling as you kneel down in front of the deity, bowing down to him. You remain bowing for however long he pleases, keeping your eyes shut because there’s tears building up. You have never been this terrified. Willingly putting yourself at death’s door is no easy feat.

“Rise.” He orders, and you straighten your upper body, remaining on your knees. You don’t dare look anywhere past his feet, keeping your eyes low and steady. You know that he’s staring you down, studying you. A smirk on his lips, thinking about how he’s found her. “What do you want?”

“My brother…” Your voice is shaky, and you try your best to compose yourself. You can’t start crying in the middle of it, you’ve gotten this far, he’ll surely kill you if you begin to sob at his feet. “He’s sick. The medic can’t cure him, and he told us you were our only choice.”

He’s not really listening. Something about a brother is all he grasped. He’s more into the way your lips move, and the tears of pure fear that well up in your eyes. He can tell that you really made an effort into your look today, even though you don’t look extravagant. Which for some reason he likes, he doesn’t want an arrogant woman in his chambers, he already has enough of them. He especially doesn’t want one of them carrying his heir.

What really draws him in is that certain look in your eyes. The clear innocence that’s written all over your face. You’re the perfect lily that he can’t wait to tear apart, petal by petal. That finalizes his decision.

“What do you have for me? Open the basket.” He orders, and you do as he says. Regret washes over you as you open it, immediately knowing that it’s not enough. You don’t know what came over you when you had the bright idea of picking it. You unfold the cloth with shaky hands, revealing the gift for him. He’s usually furious with these types of gifts, since they hold no value to him but he wants to hear your reasoning since he has other plans with you, “Why do you come to me with this?”

“Pomegranates aren’t native to the land, and they’re scarce this time of season. I found some while searching for an offering and thought it was a sign.” You explain, and he scoffs. A stupid reason, one that should get you killed. If he wanted fruit, he would send Uraume to get it for him. He guesses it’s creative though, especially when almost every person that walks through the temple is willing to sacrifice a life. But you don’t gain points for creativity, no one ever has.

“Pomegranates? What am I supposed to do with that?” He’s mocking you, and you swallow the lump in your throat. He’s right, what is he supposed to do with a pomegranate? He’s not like you, he’s not just going to eat it. You’re usually smart about this type of thing, but you guess desperation got the best of you this time around, and now you have to pay for the consequences. As to be expected, there’s no answer from you, and he orders, “Look up at me.”

Your eyes slowly move up his body to his face, and you’re in awe at the sight. A mix of emotions flow through your body. He really isn’t a human. You were terrified earlier, but now you’re simply astonished. You never really believed the tales that were told about him since you couldn’t wrap your head around the fact that a being like him could exist. But now he stands before you.

“Do you really think I’ll do anything with the fruit?” His voice sounds serious, but there’s a hint of a smile on his lips. You shake your head which irks him. “You have a voice don’t you? Use it.”

“No, my king. My apologies.” It’s strange, but you sound more confident as you look at him compared to before. It brings some sort of satisfaction to Sukuna since usually people that are allowed to look directly at him can barely communicate.

“I’ll give you a chance to redeem yourself.” He’s thinking about how merciful he is– Which isn’t entirely a lie since Sukuna never gives a second chance. Except you have no idea how you can redeem yourself unless he dismisses you. Little do you know what he’s thinking for you. “I have a proposal for you.”

“A what…?” Your eyebrows perk up as curiosity takes over you. A proposal from a deity, it’ll surely be something that you have yet to hear.

“Bear my child, and I’ll forgive you.” He says, and you almost fall back. Your ears must be deceiving you, there’s no way that the proposal that you just heard is real. Your eyes are wide open, and you hear him laugh. It must be a joke then.

“Uraume!” Sukuna yells, wanting it to be clear that he doesn’t want to waste a single second. Not even a second later, and they’re in the room, waiting for their king’s command. “Take the maiden and prepare her for me tonight.”

“Wait– You’re serious?” You dare to ask. You haven’t even agreed, yet he’s getting you ready for tonight, to have a baby with him of all things. “You don’t even know my name, why would you want me to carry your baby?”

“What’s your name then?” He asks, clearly irritated by the question, and you have no choice but to answer. If you don’t, you’re screwed. “There we have it. Take her, Uraume.”

“Wait!” You shout, but Sukuna isn’t going to listen to more of it. Uraume guides you outside, a task that they usually do harsher. At any other time, they’d be dragging you outside but you’re not just anybody.

You’re the woman that will carry King Sukuna’s heir.

#jujutsu kaisen sukuna #ryoumen sukuna #ryomen sukuna #sukuna x reader #sukuna #sukuna ryomen #jjk sukuna #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #sukuna jjk #sukuna x you #sukuna jujutsu kaisen

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flemingsfreckles · 15 hours

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Physio’s Daughter Part 10

Read the rest of the series here!

Warnings: cursing, that’s about it

WC: 4.6k

A/N: it’s almost over yall

You woke up tangled in the bedsheets, blinking a few times before realizing your head was just on the mattress and your pillow was on the ground. You sit up slightly, reaching for the pillow to bring it back under your head. You roll over to check the clock and that’s when you remember this isn’t your hotel room. This isn’t your bed, this is Jessie’s bed. Only Jessie wasn’t in bed anymore.

Pushing up you look around the room, finding it empty, no signs of Jessie, you also didn’t hear the water running in the bathroom, she wasn’t anywhere you could see in the room. You notice her phone, wallet, and ID badge are all missing from the bedside table. She had left.

You feel your heart sink into your stomach. A twisted feeling building inside of you. She wasn’t here. You were waking up alone.

Unsure of what to do, you climbed out of bed, making your way to the bathroom. It seemed untouched from last night, both of your clothes still in a pile on the floor, her medal still on the counter, both of your toothbrushes in a cup. You brush your teeth and try to keep your mind from spiraling at the fact that Jessie was gone.

You decide to check your phone which you failed to charge last night, maybe she had texted you. You’re quickly able to check your phone. Disappointment fills your body when you see a few messages from family who were congratulating you on your hard work and a few messages from Olivia.

Olivia: I’m down to help

Olivia: What do you need?

Olivia: assuming you’re having a good night ;) and are too busy to respond, just catch up with me in the morning.

The screen goes black only a second later, the battery finally dead. You sigh, not even sure if you needed her help anymore, it seemed Jessie didn’t care to stick around to be there when you woke up this morning. Maybe she had media or a meeting but given that you were giving the athletes schedules, you knew that wasn’t true.

You wander back into the bathroom, grabbing out the clothes that are yours from the heap on the floor. Were you supposed to change and leave Jessie’s clothes? Deciding it didn’t matter and you could bring her back her clothes another time you just bundle them up in your arms before sliding on your shoes, not bothering to tie the laces and you head to the door.

You make the quick run to your room, you don't need to be caught wearing a UCLA shirt, giving everyone the wrong idea of what you two did last night.

“Well well well, look what we have here.” Olivia says, coming around the corner giving you a glance over. “I’d ask where you spend the night but the UCLA shirt and the fact that you two were practically inseparable last night is enough information.”

“It’s not what you think.” Out of insecurity you wrap your hands across your chest, covering the UCLA logo.

“I think you spent the night in a certain captain’s bed.”

“Okay then it is what you think, but it wasn’t like that, nothing happened.”

“Sure.” You can tell by Olivia’s tone of voice and the roll of her eyes that she doesn’t believe you at all.

“I’m serious.” You can feel your cheeks starting to heat up. “She was feeling too tired, so we just went to bed, nothing happened” Technically saying nothing happened was a lie, but if you told Olivia you had the captain grinding in your lap as you two made out, she would assume a lot more happened. You instead let her make up whatever she wanted in her mind.

“Whatever you say.” She gives you a wink.

“Olivia, I don’t really want to talk about it, nothing happened and then she left wasn’t in the room when I woke up.”

“Oh.” Olivia’s tone immediately shifts to one of sympathy.

“Yeah.” It was silly to be so upset about Jessie leaving, you two weren’t together, you didn’t even sleep together, there was no reason you should expect her to have stayed. Except that you had, you had envisioned waking up next to her, being able to roll over and cuddle into her body, you had pictured a quiet morning with the two of you under her sheets. But that was your fault, not hers.

“So what’s the favor you need anyway?” Olivia tries to change the subject, not knowing the favor you were planning to ask was related to Jessie.

“Oh right, well, I don’t know if I really need it anymore. What I was going to do was-” you get interrupted by knocking on the door.

Olivia makes the move toward the door, opening it a crack before she turns back to look at you, her face with an uncomfortable look on it. “It’s for you.” She opens the door more and now you see Jessie standing in the doorway, seemingly out of breath.

“Can I come in?” She asks, still panting slightly.

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea” Olivia starts as if she’s trying to defend you from Jessie, protect you. She then just looks at you.

“It’s fine.” You nod and Jessie steps into the room, the door barely closes before she starts explaining herself.

“I got pulled for drug testing this morning, that’s why I wasn’t in bed this morning.” Jessie then looks at Olivia then back at you then back to Olivia. You can feel the tension in the uncomfortable stare they give each other before they break eye contact and both look at you.

“She already knew where I was, it’s fine.” You reassure Jessie before giving Olivia a glance hoping she doesn’t do anything to make you regret not taking this conversation into the hall.

“I got pulled by the doping committee, randomized testing and all, they came to the door, I didn’t get time to wake you and then they don’t let you on your phone so I couldn’t text you, I wanted to leave a note but apparently that can be considered ‘tampering’ with the test, so I just had to leave.” Jessie rambles, her hands moving quickly as she explains where she was this morning.

She takes a breath. She’s telling you information you already knew, as a trainer you were well versed on the doping committee protocols. “I thought I’d be back before you woke up, that’s why I ran back. I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to leave you to wake up alone.”

“It’s alright.” You can’t help but hold back your laugh a bit. You were upset this morning when you woke up alone, but you believed Jessie’s story, given that she’s breathing hard you fully believe she sprinted here from the testing center, that she tried to make it back before you woke up. “That’s just how this is going, everyone and everything is in our way.”

“I know, but I felt terrible when I got back and saw you were gone. I sent a text on the way back, you never read it, though so I thought you’d still be asleep in bed, and then when I got there you were gone.”

It was obvious Jessie was a little panicked still despite your attempt to find humor in this situation. “My phone died.” You just now remembered, you stand up to go plug it in.

“Right, sorry I should’ve let you charge yours last night.”

To be fair to Jessie, charging your own phone wasn’t at the forefront of your mind when you were thinking about crawling into bed with her, so it was no one’s fault your phone had died. You were too caught up in getting to be in her bed, in getting to hold her, soaking in the feeling of her head on your chest, the smell of the hotel shampoo on her hair, the way her fingers twitched against your stomach as she fell asleep. No one was to blame for your phone being dead. “No worries.”

She looks up from where her hands are pulling at the lint on her shirt. “So are we good?”

“We’re good, no harm.” You reassure her. “What are your plans for the day?” You look over to the clock to see it was still early in the morning.

“I’m grabbing coffee with my sister this morning, then I think doing some touristy stuff with my family, they’re flying out this afternoon.”

That was your chance. She was going to be free this evening. You could ask her on a date. An actual date and not whatever you two have been sneaking around doing. “Cool.” You chicken out.

“What about you?”

“Probably going to do touristy stuff as well, I don’t really know, we have a lot of stuff to start packing too.” You quickly look at Olivia and then eye the bathroom door. She gets the hint and walks herself into the bathroom, closing the door behind her and turning on the shower. You take a breath in, remembering that she was the one who invited you into her bed last night, she wants this just as much as you do. “So then are you free tonight?”

“Yeah I think so, I should be.”

“Can I pick you up at 5 for something then?”

“Something? How descriptive of you. By ‘something’ do you mean a date?” She brings her fingers up to air, quoting your choice of words.

“I don’t know if what I’m thinking is really a date, but we can also grab dinner if you want, so that can be as a date.”

“Hmm mysterious,” the way she pauses makes you nervous. “Alright I’m in.” She says after thinking for a second.

“I’ll come by to get you at 5 then!”

“See you at 5.” She leans in, placing a delicate kiss to your lips. Her actions take you by surprise and you barely react in time to kiss her back before she’s pulling away. She steps out into the hallway and the door closes behind her.

She had never kissed you like that before. It was almost casual. As if you two kissed everyday, as if you hadn’t only kissed a few occasions, as if those kisses you had shared weren’t undercover, in secret. She kissed you as if everyone in the world already knew you were together. It was different.

Olivia comes out of the bathroom as soon as she hears the door close and you quickly grab her attention again. “Okay so change of plans, I will need that favor.”

You picked up Jessie at her door promptly at 5. She opened the door in a pair of black pants and a simple white shirt. It was such a simple outfit and yet she made it look incredible.

“Can I use your bathroom really quick before we go?” You asked, pointing into the room.

“Suuuure. Why didn’t you go in your own room?”

“I don’t know, I just didn’t.” That was kind of a lie.

When you came out of the bathroom you handed Jessie back the folded clothes you had worn the night before. “I also brought these back. I didn’t know if you wanted them washed or what, so I can take them back if you want me to wash them.”

“No, they're fine. I’m going to have to wash all my clothes when we get back home anyway.” She takes them from your hands and sets them on the bench in the room.

“Alright, let’s go!” You hold the door open for Jessie before leading her to what was your pre-date activity.

“Don’t peak.” You say as you walk Jessie through the streets. Your hand pulling hers behind you. It wasn’t much further you had only asked her to close her eyes when you were a short distance away. “Stop here.” You position her in front of you, your hands come to cover her eyes, gently shielding her vision. “Okay open.” You say softly into her ear.

“What are we doing here?” Jessie says when you uncover her eyes, revealing to her the same stadium she’s been playing in the past few weeks.

“I’ll show you.” You open the backpack you brought with pulling out Olivia’s media pass, scanning it to the door. You hear the door unlock and you hold it open, gesturing for Jessie to enter. She takes a step inside and then turns back to look at you. You close the door and walk up to her, giving her a smile as you walk to lead her down the hallways.

“Here.” You say again scanning Olivia’s badge and waiting for the green light, you open the door leading to the tunnel to the field. “Go.” You gesture to her to walk down the tunnel. She gets to the end and stops, just before reaching the pitch.

“Are we allowed to be here?” She turns back asking.

“Yeah, media access gets cut off tomorrow after closing ceremonies, they have free reign until then.” You get to where she’s standing and put down your bag. You unzip it and pull out the wrapped up sweatshirt that contained Jessie’s medal inside. You unwrap it and hold it out to her. “Plus who are they to deny the gold medalist access to the field?”

“Where did you get this?” She questions you as she takes it from your hand and puts it around her neck.

“Don’t worry about it. But also maybe don’t leave it just sitting on the counter in your bathroom, I’ve heard those things are in high demand around here.” You give her a wink before putting the sweatshirt back in the bag.

You point out to the field, the sun just starting to make the field glow as it begins to set. “Look, I know it’s not the same, but you said you missed getting the moment of peace, quiet, being able to soak in everything on the field, so I wanted to give you that. I know it’s probably not quite what you meant since your teammates aren’t here and the high of winning is probably pretty worn off but, I figured you could go sit, soak it in, enjoy that moment.”

“Yeah?” She’s got a grin across her face.

“Yeah, go!” You point out to the field again and Jessie turns away from you. Relief runs through your body, you had been worried Jessie would think it was weird, you bringing her to the field, but she seemed excited at the idea.

What you didn’t tell Jessie about the evening you had planned was that you also had set up a picnic, a blanket, a cooler with snacks, drinks, all tucked away, you and Olivia had come to the field earlier to drop it off. You didn’t want her to feel forced to share this moment with you, so you bit your tongue when it came to telling her about the picnic. You just stood by the tunnel and watched as she stepped onto the pitch, spinning around as she walked toward the middle.

She sat herself down, looking around again before lying back, her hands coming to rest under her head. You can’t help but just watch, out in her own little world you watch her shift around, sitting up, laying down, standing, walking around the pitch. Taking a moment at each corner of the field, you watch as she takes deep breaths, closing her eyes at each one for a couple moments before moving to another spot on the pitch. She sits again, this time in the spot from which she took her penalty. She’s got one hand clutched around the medal, the other by her side, playing with the grass below her.

“Hey!” She shouts at you before waving you over. She pats the grass next to her and you jog out to her and sit down. Her knee and shoulder come into contact with yours as you sit down completely disregarding her personal space. “Thank you.”

Not sure why she’s thanking you, you turn to look at Jessie. “Huh?” The sun is hitting her face just right, her skin glowing in the yellow and orange light, her freckles even more prominent on her skin.

“For this.” She waves to the stadium around you.

“Oh I mean it’s nothing.” It really was, all you had done was ask Olivia for her badge, other than that, there wasn’t much facilitating on your end.

“It’s not nothing, it was really nice of you to think of doing this for me. I know it was simple, but it means a lot to me, both being able to soak in the moment and that you remembered that tiny detail.” She lets a hand come and rest on your thigh.

Not wanting to make too forward of a move, you slowly let your head come to rest on Jessie's shoulder, leaning slightly into her body.

“This really is peaceful. I can see why you missed not having this.”

“Yeah it’s nice isn’t it?” She leans her own head to rest on yours. The warmth of the sun on your face and the feeling of Jessie’s body let you relax, closing your eyes and breathing in the fresh grass and the warm breeze.

Interrupting your peace, your stomach rumbles loud enough to send Jessie into a giggle fit. “Oh my, hungry are we?”

“Stoooop.” You lay back covering your face, feeling embarrassed by the noise.

Jessie glances at the watch on her wrist. “We can get going to dinner, sorry I didn’t realize how long we’ve been here.”

“Well, I actually packed a picnic, it’s just over there, but we can go to a restaurant if you’d prefer.”

“Why didn’t you say anything about the picnic, we’ve been here for almost 2 hours?” She turns back to look at where you were lying.

You sit up and look at Jessie. “I just didn’t want you to feel forced to spend your moment soaking it in with me, eating, so I didn’t say anything.”

“You’re really sweet, has anyone ever told you that?” Jessie tilts her head blinking a few times at you. You can’t help but have the urge to kiss her, her smile, her freckles,the way her hair framed her face, all of it, every aspect of her was perfect.

“Just my mom.” You say half jokingly a laugh coming out as you spoke to her, but you also meant it seriously. You’d never been described as an adult, by one of your peers as sweet. As a little girl people called you sweet when you’d go to work with your Mom and you’d try to help her. You other flings and girls you had tried to date never described you as sweet, you got called nice, or hot, never sweet. It was nice to be called sweet.

“No I’m serious, you’re sweet and caring, you pay attention to details, you’re just a good person, I know that’s maybe not the most descriptive way to put it, but just being a good person is so hard to find sometimes. Go get the picnic.”

You don’t have to be told twice, you’re scrambling to stand and running across the pitch to where the basket sat. You try to run back with it in hand but that fails when you realize it’s quite heavy. Jessie stands up and helps spread the blanket before she takes off her shoes, you do the same and both climb onto the blanket.

Jessie begins pulling throngs from the basket. “Where did you get all of these? They look delicious!” She holds up a container with some sandwiches in it and another with fruit.

“A place down the street, I got lunch there the other day, it was really good.” Nodding your head you begin to get out plates and napkins, handing them to Jessie.

Once you have all the food split except the dessert Jessie holds out up the croissant from her plate in your direction. “Cheers?”

“That’s bread.”

“I know, but still, tap yours on mine. Cheers me.” A certain seriousness in her voice told you she wasn’t going to let you not participate. Grabbing your own croissant you hold it up toward her.

“To a gold medal?” You offer as you’re not sure what Jessie wants to cheers for.

“No, cheers to this, to us, finally having our first date.”

“So is this our first official date then?”

“Yeah I guess it is.”

Tapping your bread to hers you then take a bite and watch her do the same. She lets out a satisfied hum. “This is incredible.” She takes another bite before even finishing her first.

Your first official date ends up being way less nerve wracking than you expected. It feels like you’re back in the training room all those months ago, just the two of you chatting and laughing while you worked on her calf. Only now it was the two of you, in regular clothes, no massaging, no pressure of work, no fears of being walked in on. Just the two of you, enjoying dinner. As the sunlight begins to fade, you and Jessie finish up your meal and break into the dessert. It’s a few small pieces of cake.

“I wasn’t sure what flavors of cake you liked.” You defend yourself as Jessie slowly turns to look at you and eyebrow raised questioning you silently as she pulls multiple containers with cake in them.

She’s got one in each hand and two in her lap. She looks down at the cakes and then up to you with a smile. “So you bought them all?”

“Not all of them.” You think back to all the options the bakery had. “Just most of them.”

The two of you dig into the cakes, taking bites off of each piece, claiming each one is better than the last piece you tried.

“Let me try that one.” You point to the container in Jessie’s hand with a strawberry piece in it. Expecting Jessie to hand you the container you hold your hand out. Instead she digs her own fork into the cake before holding it out to you. You hesitate for a moment before leaning over to take the bite, you’d kissed the girl, sharing a fork wasn’t anything you should be getting in your head about.

“That one’s the best one yet.” You say once you swallow.

“You’re saying that about all of them!” Jessie says. You notice her eyes catch on your face and specifically your lips when she talks to you.

“You got a little something.” Jessie points to the corner of her own mouth.

“Oh.” You attempt to wipe it with the napkin in your lap.

“Here.” Jessie reaches out, wiping below your lip with her thumb. You could feel your heart start racing as Jessie brought her thumb to her own mouth, licking it and letting out a soft moan. “Mmmm, strawberry frosting.”

“I didn’t peg you to have a sweet tooth.”

“Why? Because I’m an athlete? My parents used to tease that I only played soccer so that I could eat all the sweets I wanted. And while it’s not the only reason, it sure is a perk to the job.”

“I guess, I’ve just never seen you with anything sweet, except maybe your coffee order.”

“I obviously have a sweet tooth, I like you.” When you just squint at her she clarifies. “Get it, because you’re sweet.”

You can’t help but roll your eyes. “You’ll be a really good dad someday with those dad jokes Fleming.” You tease her.

“Shush.” She pushes you on the shoulder slightly. Giving into her behavior you pretend she’s shoved you a lot harder, you let yourself fall backward onto the grass. Jessie covers her mouth as she laughs. You loved the sound of her laugh. She’d laugh softly sometime, quiet and to herself, other times when something really made her laugh you could hear her laughing rooms away.

“I can’t believe you’d push me over!” You dramatically throw your hand across your forehead.

“I didn’t push you that hard.” She says between laughs. “Here.” She gets up onto her knees and climbs closer to you. Jessie holds out her hand to you, you take it but instead of helping yourself up, you take the opportunity to pull her down.

She lets out a yelp as she lands on top of you. Her hands land on either side of your waist, somewhat holding herself off of you. “Hey!” She scolds you, her eyebrows furrowed as she looks down at you. Your hands find their way to her waist, holding her steady as she regains her balance above you.

“Hey.” You barely whisper at her. You watch her tongue quickly pass over her bottom lip before she’s starting to lean down to you.

Your hands quickly move around Jessie's body, one caressing up and down her waist, the other on her cheek, pulling her into you slightly. Jessie’s lips have been soft every time you’ve kissed but it always took you by surprise just how soft they were. The feeling of her lips and tongue against yours mixed with the feeling of her body weight pressing down on you, the way her thigh was slotted between your legs, was making you buzz. It was giving you flashbacks to last night and her in your lap. A tingling feeling building in your stomach and spreading lower.

You feel Jessie hum against your mouth as you let your tongue trail along her lip. Returning the favor Jessie captures your bottom lip, tugging it gently before releasing it to kiss you again. Your hand on her cheek moved to the back of her head, tangling in her hair and holding her to your lips. She places a few more kisses to your lips before ending it with just a peck before she sits up. Your hand leaves her hair, finding its way to her waist. She presses her upper body up by placing her hands on your chest. Her hands are warm and you like the feeling of them resting on you.

She looks down and gives you a dopey smile. “You did that on purpose.”

“I’m not sure what you’re talking about.” Giving her a smartass response she rolls her eyes before sitting all the way up and moving off of you. Part of you wanted to just pull her right back onto you, you wanted to feel her body against yours again.

“You ready to head out?” Jessie looks around at the empty food containers starting to clean up.

“Yeah, I mean we’re done eating.” You climb up to begin helping her clean up. You both work to repack the picnic basket mostly in silence, quiet thank yous exchanged when you’d hand each other things. You both stand up and put your shoes back on before rolling up the blanket. Jessie offers to carry something but you shrug her off, this was your date, you were doing the work. She just got to show up and look pretty.

“Would you want to spend the night again?” Jessie asks when you start to head toward the tunnel to leave.

“Yeah if you’d want me to, I’d like that.” You had already been hoping that she would offer when you dropped her off at her door later that night, but the invite was even better.

Already feeling fuzzy at the thought of cuddling up in bed with Jessie again and hopefully getting to wake up next to her again. Her next words and the look in her eyes send a spike of adrenaline through your body. “Yeah I do, I want you to and I’m, um, unlike yesterday well, I’m not feeling tired tonight.”

#jessie fleming #jflem #jessie fleming x reader #jessie fleming imagine #woso imagine #woso x reader #canwnt x reader #jessie fleming blurb

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fizzie-frog · 12 hours

Text

You know, the Stolitz scene was a trainwreck as a whole (they usually are), but what honestly got me most was the way Blitz started pleading when he thought his livelihood was going to be taken away.

THIS IS NOT A STOLAS SLANDER POST. I'm coming from a place where I've seen Blitz being mostly, if not entirely blamed for their lack of communication most of the time.

Moving on...

People keep going like "Well if imps are so low in the hierarchy..." - Let's take a break to think. Blitz isn't rich, he's just getting by really. And how is he getting by?

By prostituting himself. To the upper class.

That's what it is, he's a certified whxre. Things may have evolved in the meantime, but that's how it started. Blitz got asked for the deal while being chased by a crazy lady and him, wanting to keep his business and livelihood, said yes, obviously.

Now Stolas was suddenly taking the book back with no apparent explanation (until they got to the crystal), so of course Blitz thought he was doomed. On a side note, why couldn't Stolas say "You won't need the book, I have an alternative" instead of the ominous "I'll need the book back, permanently. I have made up my mind." I would be scared out of my mind.

He teared up immediately and started pleading, you could already see what was going through his head. He won't have the means to support his business anymore, to pay his employees, to afford a home, he'll be homeless and have no means to take care of Loona. Everyone will leave him again and he will starve on the streets all alone.

He'd do anything to be able to live a life a bit better than miserable, of course he would.

And this brings me to Stolas's treatment of Blitz. I see that everything tends to fall on Blitz, and I'm not saying he has no fault (in fact I didn't even like him at the beginning of the series too much), but Stolas treated him like a peasant. Just the episode before Ozzie's he's called him his "impish little plaything" and asked for a reward for the rescue. He put out cigarettes on his horns, he ignored his "stop" most times, he addressed him in this little baby voice with babying diminutives. "Itty bitty" imp.

And I am sure Stolas is socially clueless. He was brought up alone and sheltered, taught to be a prince first and foremost.

Stolas probably saw this as playful banter, as something that is inoffensive, silly. It was only in the Ozzie's episode that he finally saw that actually, his silly play served to make Blitz feel smaller.

And of course in this scenario, Blitz would see this coming out of the nether. He reacted quite badly, but why would this prince be actually in love with him? As he said, he needed to have a minute (or several) to think about everything. They needed to talk this out, and Blitz was about to apologize when Stolas cast him out.

They were both emotionally charged. They fucked up. But I can see Blitz's side. And the power imbalance is so evident, that hierarchy that everyone keeps saying is irrelevant - in a moment's notice, he could have his life swept from underneath him. Just like he thought it happened in that split moment; it worried him so much that he cried and pleaded (and that's not in Blitz's character to do).

And then he was so scared of not being enough too, ugh, his little "I can always do better!". He's so used to everyone just seeing him as a lost cause, better to be discarded. With this amalgamation of things, no wonder he can't believe Stolas would have feelings for him.

So uh, I don't know what the conclusion to this is. Normalize getting imps some actual comfort? So far the only really privileged imp in Helluva Boss is Fizz after getting rid of Mammon. And when I say priviledged, I'm referring to wealth and upper class, not taking into account personal issues such as disability and so forth.

Anyway, this was my two cents on Stolitz. I honestly haven't thought too much on them, I'm riding on the Fizzarolli high. I'm chill over here in my Fizzmodeus bubble, but doesn't mean I have no thoughts on Stolitz.

#Blitzo #Stolas #Stolitz #Helluva Boss #Helluva Boss full moon #full moon #the certified trainwreck of Helluva Boss #I'm so chill in the house of Asmodeus

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petew21-blog · 2 days

Text

Let's run some tests

"Won't let her get away this time" I said to my new reflection

My girlfriend of two years decided to split up right before I was ready to propose to her. All that cause she was working as a veterinary nurse with this guy, Dr. Omar. She said she didn't cheat, but she said she fell in love like never before. I couldn't let her get away. She was the best woman I ever met. I had to do everything to get her back

Maybe it was luck, maybe a trickster god, but I do owe him. I woke up as Omar the next day that Alisha moved out. I was shocked, everyone would be.

He was not a bad looking guy. But in my previous body I was a bit... how do I say this. Well, maybe slighty against some minorities. So even thought it was meant for me as a blessing, I was having a hard time at first, waking up with a different skin tone. So what a guy from Nebraska like me might not have a great mind set

That changed when I discovered I could be grateful for the body I was now in. Slight hairs over the chest, veins popping out everywhere. Damn, chicks are gonna dig this. Especially Alisha. If my balding head and belly fat was the thing that made her not love me, than so be it. I am improved now.

As I proceeded in my examination, revealing a very nice surprise in the boxers. A message from my ex-girlfriend popped on the screen. "Hey, wanna meet later. I am at the beach now, but I am up for dinner or sth."

"Hey, sure. The beach sounds better tho" I sent to her. She rewarded me with a photo in her swimming suit, revealing the beautiful body I already knew

I took a photo of myself in a vest with a sthetoscope. Even if she won't like it I may keep the photo for myslef. The chicks love animals and they love doctor. Man, being an animal doctor must be like a lottery for them

Another message popped up on the screen. It was my old body. He wanted to meet up and talk about what happened. Great. Right on time

I met him at the edge of the town. He was nervously stepping around the car. He then approached me, being scared what might happen to him in my body. I stayed confident. He can't hurt me now. I don't have to do anything. I threatened him, that if he was gonna say anything to anyone, I will find. Not that anyone would believe him. I was almost ready to leave, but then he stopped me

"If you won't fix this, I will reveal everything I did in my body that will ruin your career and drive Alisha away from you"

Fuck. Maybe he does have advantage after all. Or maybe not

"Ok, stay here, I'll go get my phone and we can discuss how to revert this. Ok?" he agreed with me and stayed at his car.

What he didn't expect was that I prepared a dart gun with anesthaethic and shot the dart at him. He screamed in pain, cursed at me, while I just laughed. He stumbled and fell on the ground, still trying to get up

I got over him, enjoying how he was trying to fight the effects.

"Sorry, for that. I might have given you a higher dose. I gotta get used to being a doctor now haha. But before I do anything else to you know this. NO ONE! IS GONNA GET BETWEEN ME AND ALISHA! SHE IS MINE!!!"

The fear in his eyes remained even as his body's heart failed. Atleast he won't bother us anymore. Now, gotta fix everything before my date tonight with Alisha. I am lucky that I already know her and know what to say in advance. I am so excited!

Story submitted in inbox: Would you do a story with an man swapping bodies with the hunky doctor currently dating his ex girlfriend?

#body swap #male body swap #criminal body swap

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awakenedevildays · 1 day

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「bleachers and interruptions」 Art Donaldson x F!reader

You can find the other parts here!

━━━•❃°•°❀°•°❃•━━━

"For how long are you planning to stare at her, Donaldson?" Tashi approaches Art while he is busy looking at you in the stands, a book in your hand as you wait "for Tashi" to finish her training.

"w-what?" he detaches his eyes from you and your friend wants to laugh at the deer-caught-in-headlights look on his face, a clean tennis shirt in his hands waiting to be worn.

Tashi stands in front of him, the smirk on her face growing wider by the second, her hands on her hips "Donaldson, I can smell your desperation from miles away" he avoids her gaze and turns around to take off his shirt and put it in his tennis bag along his racket, but Tashi stands in front of him again "she told me about what happened at the beach" she adds and smirks, Art stops in his tracks at that 'fuck, she knows' he takes advantage of slipping on his unstained t-shirt to hide his red cheeks from your best friend.

"Shouldn't you be worrying about you and Patrick, Tash?" his eyes look down to fix his shirt that looks so ruffled to him right now, "don't worry about me and Patrick, but I have to worry about you two idiots for obvious reasons" Art looks at her confused and waits for her to explain.

Tashi moves her hand up to pat his shoulder, her smirk fading away and giving way to a small smile.

"She's a wonderful person you know? She deserves all the love in the world and I know you've got plenty to give... so don't keep her on the hook for too long" she takes her bag.

"What do you mean?" He frowns, keeping you on the hook? he tought you had changed your mind, considering you didn't approach him not even once after the night at the beach.

Tashi takes one glance at you, and then back to the blond in front of her.

"She's waiting for you to make a move, Art. She's really shy and not really good at these kind of things..." Tashi's gaze flickers at you again... "If she wasn't interested you think she would have come to watch you almost every training day?".

He wants to laugh at that, 'she didn't look shy at the beach' he thinks but doesn't say it out loud "she comes here for me? I thought she's here to see you!" he exclaims.

Tashi can't stop the smile forming on her lips at his outburst, the disbelief in his voice clear as day.

"You can't be that naive, can you?" Tashi teases, her tone lighthearted now, having gone from teasing to trying to comfort him. "Sure, some days she might come here for me, but it's mostly for you, I can assure you, I'm just an added bonus" Tashi concludes and Art feels so stupid, he should've at least tried to talk to you.

"oh..."

Tashi sees his expression change slightly, realization beginning to dawn on him, so she rests a reassuring hand on his shoulder, smiling at him knowingly "don't beat yourself up too much about it, Art. It's never too late to fix your mistake. Believe me, she's really into you... but Art, there are few people I care about more than I care about tennis, and Y/N is one of them, if you hurt her in any way-" Tashi pushes her index finger into his chest, her grin growing devious once again, "-I'll castrate you, then you definitely won't be able to charm her anymore with only your stupid blond curls, understood?" "yes m'am." he answers immediately.

Tashi laughs, finding his quick response both amusing and endearing, her hand moving to ruffle his blond hair. "That's more like it, Donaldson. Keep her safe and you won't have too worry about keeping your body intact. I'm sure you're more than capable of that"

Tashi goes to the changing rooms and Art turns around towards you again, only to see you already looking at him and he smiles widely, now that he knows you didn't change your mind about him, and that's surprising considering the story he told you, he feels like he can actually talk to you without blushing like the teenager he still is.

You blush slightly as he looks at you, a shy smile tugging at the corner of your lips, your heart skips a beat when he flashes that winning smile of his. How he was able to be both endearing and incredibly handsome at the same time was beyond you, but the sight of his bright blue eyes and the way his blonde hair was swept to the side from the light wind was enough to make your breath hitch.

His hand goes up in greeting and you wave back, book now closed and he sign for you to stay there as he walks out of the tennis camp, his steps fast almost in a run and you laugh 'he is so cute' you think. A few minutes later he is next to you on the bleachers.

As he approaches, you can't help but look carefully at his face, a bead of sweat running down his temple form the training he just finished, you curse internally as you feel yourself growing a bit hotter when his arm flexes to let his tennis bag fall on the ground next to him.

Art sits down next to you, taking a moment to catch his breath before turning to you, a cheeky grin on his face.

"hey"

"hi..."

You both giggle for realizing how awkward this moment is.

Art runs his hand through his hair, trying to tame the damp strands and make himself look at least a little bit presentable. "Sorry for this" he pauses for a moment, a smirk coming to his lips, "although I think you kinda like it" you laugh 'fuck, he noticed'.

"Oh shut up, I didn't come here for you" you lie, your cheeks slightly red in fear of being caught "oh, really? a little bird told me otherwise..." he suggests and you would really like the ground to open and swallow you, you bite your lips "I'm going to kill her" you mumble under your breath and Art laughs as he sits down next to you, his eyes twinkling with amusement.

He gazes intently at you, a slight smirk on his lips, "please don't, I wouldn't be here if it wasn't for her" you frown at his words and seeing your confused expression he keeps going.

"I thought you weren't interested in me anymore, after that night" his smile is sheepish, "the next day, when you and Tashi came to watch the final between me and Patrick you didn't talk to me at all and... I don't know, I felt like I fucked up" his hand goes through his hair, a bit embarrassed to reveal his insecurities to you so soon and you want to slap yourself "Art... no you got it all wrong".

Art blinks in confusion for a moment, his expression changing into a mixture of surprise and relief "so you weren't avoiding me?" he asks, turning his head to peer closely into your eyes, searching for any sign to confirm his words.

"No! well, yes... but it's not cause I wasn't interested in you, the total opposite actually, I'm really bad at these things I didn't know what to do or say" you admit and play around with the cover of the book still on your lap.

Art couldn't help but laugh a little bit at your confession, "If it's any consolation, I think you're doing just fine right now."

He pauses for a moment, reaching out to tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear, his blue eyes shining with warmth.

"You could've just told me then, you know?" and he could have done that too.

"I know... I'm sorry" you whine hiding your face in your hands and he rests his left hand on the back of your chair, his body facing you while he waits for you to look at him again "don't be, I could have tried harder too" he comforts you and you look at him again, a sweet smile on his face.

You couldn't help but smile back at him, feeling the tension start to dissipate between you "guess we both messed up then" you laugh, shaking your head in disbelief at the realization of just how much time you wasted because of your mutual shyness.

"But we stil have time to solve this, if you want to, of course" you're nodding even before he can finish the sentence.

Art can't contain his excitement as he sees you enthusiastically nodding your head. He lifts his hand and rests his palm on your cheek, his thumb gently caressing the soft skin "I take that as a yes, then?" he asks, a playful smile on his lips, the thumb on your cheek now tracing the outline of your lips.

"mh-mh" you say unconsciously your eyes locked in his.

Art continues tracing his thumb across your lips, his touch light and almost teasing, feeling your gaze on him, he lifts his eyes to look into yours, a cheeky smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

"You look so cute when you're all blushing and flustered" he whispers, leaning a bit closer to your face.

"You talk like you're not in the same position as I am" Art laughs softly, his breath mingling with yours, he leans in closer, the smile on his lips widening as he sees you start to fidget slightly.

"Not like it's a bad thing though, right?" he whispers, his hand moving from your cheek to gently grasp your chin, tilting your head up slightly.

"absolutely not" you whisper and just when your lips are about to touch a voice interrupts the moment "Hey! the camps are closing you have to get out" the coach calls out with a small smirk and Art turns around to look at him embarrassed, ears and cheeks red "sorry coach! we're leaving".

The coach gives a knowing chuckle before heading out again, leaving you and Art to recover from the interruption.

You can't help but feel a twinge of frustration at the coach's interruption, ok, that was embarrassing you put your book back into your bag before sliding it on your shoulder.

Art lets out a small sigh before reluctantly getting up from the bench helping you too by grabbing your hand "sorry about that, the coach has the worst timing" he wants to strangle him, really.

"Don't worry, he is right" you say and he starts to guide you towards the stairs to get out.

Art feels his muscles relax as soon as the cool night breeze hits his skin, he's still hot and sweaty from the training, he glances at you "that was a good session, wasn't it? even with the interruption" he jokes as he looks around, noticing the sun slowly setting behind the trees, lighting the sky in a beautiful shade of pink and orange.

"you did good, I really like to watch you ad Tashi play" you ignore his real intentions and decide to talk about the training itself, you really like to tease him.

Art can't help but let out a small laugh at your response "so that is the only reason why you come to see our trainings? To watch me play?" he quips, his tone light and teasing as he nudges you slightly with his shoulder.

"I already told you Donaldson, I come to see Tashi play, not for you" you taunt again and Art shakes his head in false disbelief, his tone still playful and light "right, how could I forget. Just for Tashi, of course".

He playfully rolls his eyes, his shoulder slightly touching yours as you walk next to him.

"I'm sorry to tell you this, but you can't compete with her" and Art stops on his track a fake shocked expression on his face and you tug on his hand still connected to yours to walk through the campus and towards the dorms.

Art puts a hand over his heart and lets out a mock gasp. "How could you" he says before starting to follow you again, a cheeky smile on his lips as he glances in your direction.

As you both make your way towards the dorms, Art can't help but feel contentment at the sight of your hands connected together, swinging naturally alongside you while you walk. You two stay in comfortable silence until you are in front of your dorm room and your hand detaches from his to grab your key, Art stands behind you, hands in his shorts pockets as he waits for you to turn back to him.

You unlock the door, feeling a flutter of anticipation as you turn to face him again. Art is still standing close, his eyes fixed on you with a warm smile on his handsome features, he takes a step closer, now leaning against the wall next to your door.

The soft light from the hallway casts a gentle glow on him, his blond hair slightly disheveled and he looks so incredibly handsome that you find your breath hitching in your throat

'what should I do now?' you ask yourself as you smile at him, but before you could open your mouth to speak, he does first "not that I don't like to meet you like this, but what would you think about a date? with me, of course" he mentally facepalms himself, 'was it really necessary to add that?' Art feels a faint blush color his cheeks as you laugh at his awkward addition.

He rubs the back of his neck, still smiling sheepishly "sorry, I just wanted to be clear about it, didn't want you to think I was planning a date between you and Tashi" he jokes as he lets out a small laugh of his own, the embarrassment fading away as he sees that you don't seem to mind his blunder.

"But yes, I would love to take you on a date" he says with a more confident tone, his eyes shimmering with excitement at the thought.

"I would love to" Art is filled with contentment as he sees your excitement. He runs his hand through his hair a small smile forms on his lips as he gazes at you, his blue eyes shining with happiness.

"How about tomorrow night? There's this nice restaurant near that I've been wanting to try" he suggests, his voice filled with nerves but anticipation as well.

"Tomorrow is great" you step closer when you see Art bending towards you "good, I'll pick you up tomorrow night at seven" you nod.

As you confirm the time for your date, he can't help but smile wider, the excitement coursing through his veins, he gazes into your eyes for a moment, savoring the anticipation building between you.

"I can't wait" he whispers, his voice filled with excitement and a hint of nerves, leaning closer and placing a soft kiss on your forehead "I'll see you tomorrow" "goodnight, Art".

As you watch Art, his handsome features bathed in the soft light of the hallway, he smiles back at you, his eyes filled with warmth and affection. "Goodnight" he says softly, a small chuckle escaping his lips as he sees you close the door slower than necessary, as if you don't want the moment to end just yet.

"Sweet dreams" he whispers after you close the door, shoulders lighter now that he finally has a real chance with you and the smile on his face doesn't leave until he is asleep in his bed.

━━━•❃°•°❀°•°❃•━━━

Do not copy or repost.

#art donaldson x reader #art donaldson x you #art donaldson imagine #art donaldson fluff #art donaldson #challengers fic #challengers

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archangeldyke-all · 1 day

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hiii angel🫶🏻 so you know how a lot of mascs say they’ve never been treated like a woman? Like past partners introducing them as my ‘boyfriend’ or never calling them soft nicknames? I was wondering if we could get reader calling Sevika princess or something cute like that and Sevika ends up kinda shocked because her past partners never treated her so softly before ^.^

yessssss YESSSSSS

men and minors dni

sevika keeps giving you these weird looks. it worries you.

the first time you noticed it was on your second date. your first date had happened two nights before: sevika'd taken you to dinner and a live concert in the park, and you'd begged her to let you plan the next one.

you'd arranged reservations at sevika's favorite resturant-- the place she only treats herself to on her birthday-- and gotten tickets to the late showing of a nerdy sci-fi space film you don't give a shit about but knew sevika'd love.

and when you'd arrived at her door with flowers in your hand, sevika's dazzling smile at the sight of you had faltered, and something confused and... a little nervous? showed up on her face.

she quickly shook her expression away, pulling you in for a kiss that was not second date appropriate, and which completely wiped your mind of any concerns about her expression.

but then, it kept happening.

the first time you guys had sex, you had to pause and take a minute to just... stare at her. sevika'd blinked up at you nervously, squirming and naked on the sheets, and when you laughed out a "sorry, you're just so fucking beautiful i had to take a second to remember this," sevika'd shot you that strange look.

when you'd happily introduced her to your friends at brunch with an excited "ladies, i want you to meet my lovely girlfriend: sevika," she'd froze in place with that same near-constipated expression.

and now-- thirty minutes after you and sevika exchanged your first 'i love you's (and twenty eight minutes after you and sevika had your first 'i love you sex,') you can't hold your tongue anymore.

she's laying on top of you, nuzzling against your tits, and you've just asked, "comfortable, princess?"

and now she's shooting you that look again. your stomach sinks.

"sevika, baby, i love you. you know that means you can tell me anything, right?" you ask.

sevika blinks up at you, confused. "yeah, 'course." she mumbles against your tit. you shoot her a suspicious look, and she picks her head up to look you in the eye. "what?" she asks, genuinely confused.

you huff. "i dunno, i feel like i'm make you uncomfortable sometimes." you say. sevika scoffs above you.

"what?!" she squawks. you shrug, looking away from her.

"you can tell me if you don't like it when i call you certian things, sev." you say. "i won't be upset. i'll call you anything you like, i just wanna show you my love."

"what?" she asks again. "what are you talking about?"

"i'm talking about how when i call you princess, or sweetgirl, or i fuckin' open the door for you, you get all, i dunno--" you cut yourself off, trying your best to imitate sevika's half-shocked, half-anxious? expression. she bursts into laughter above you, collapsing back on your tits as she tries to catch her breath. it's your turn to be confused. "sev?" you ask.

she takes a gasping breath, a few giggles escaping as she looks up at you again. "baby-- i love it when you're all lovey and romantic to me." she says. "it-- i'm not upset, i just-- it catches me off guard, is all. it shocks me, a bit." she says, shrugging. you furrow your brows.

"it catches you off guard when your girlfriend's sweet to you?" you ask. sevika shrugs again, her eyes darting away in what you know is discomfort this time.

"you..." she trails off, then squeezes you closer to her, throwing her leg around yours like she's worried you're going somewhere. you're not. there's literally nowhere in the world you'd rather be right now. "you're kinda the first person to treat me like a girl in a relationship." she mumbles.

"whaddya mean?" you ask. sevika shrugs and chuckles a bit.

"i dunno. i think most of the girl's i've been with have just kinda seen me as, like, a dude with tits, or something." she mumbles. "i've been called hot and handsome and sexy since i started dating but... you're the only person besides my mom who's ever called me pretty." she says.

you pout down at her, kissing her again. "you are pretty sev, what the fuck?" you mumble. "i can't believe nobody's told you that before." you keep peppering kisses on her scalp-- anywhere you can reach as you trace patterns into her back. you're a little surprised to find you're tearing up-- you make an oath to yourself right then and there to tell sevika she's pretty every day for the rest of her life.

"it's fine-- it's not like i feel unattractive or anything." she shrugs. "i know i'm hot. it's just... people see the short hair and the muscles and the cargo pants and default to treatin' me like their boyfriend."

you kiss her again, trying to hold in the sniffles threatening to bubble out of you. "so you like it?" you ask eventually, just wanting to make sure. "when i give you the princess treatment, i mean."

you can feel her lips curve against your tits as she smiles. "yeah." she admits shyly.

you grin against her scalp, and she must be able to feel it too, because she lifts her head up to glare at you. "but don't think this means you gotta be the prince-- i'm still gonna buy you flowers and all that cheesy shit. you're my princess too."

you burst into laughter and lean down to kiss her on her lips. "sounds perfect, baby."

taglist!

@fyeahnix @sapphicsgirl @half-of-a-gay @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner @shimtarofstupidity @chuucanchuucan @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther @gr0ssz0mbi3 @ellsss @sevikaspillowprincess @leomatsuzaki @emiliabby @sevikasbeloved @hellorai @vikasub @glass-apothecary @m0numents @macaroni676 @vixel352 @artinvain

#sevika #sevika imagine #sevika arcane #sevika x reader #sevika x you #soft sevika #sevika smut

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raina-at · 1 day

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Pride

Omg, you guys, it's the last one! Where did the month go!

A huge, huge thank you to @calaisreno for keeping is going the entire month, and a huge thank you to all of you for reading and writing and gushing and commenting and crying and making this more fun than it had any right to be. I'll miss this!

I did a Pride ficlet last year as a bonus ficlet because I missed two days. I had a lot of ideas for this year's, and maybe I'll post some of them as bonus ficlets through June, but for now, I say goodbye to May with John and Rosie.

--------

"Dad."

"Hmm?"

"Dad!"

John puts down the newspaper. Apparently this is a serious discussion. "Yes, love?"

Rosie throws herself into Sherlock's chair and contorts herself into a pretzel-like shape that can't be comfortable. "I'm...um..." It's apparent she doesn't quite know how to phrase her issue, because she's unnaturally hesitant. Sherlock's influence has made her shockingly blunt, while John's influence has made her shockingly foul-mouthed. Arguing with her is a joy. But now, very untypically, she looks confused and a bit lost.

"Ro, whatever it is, you can tell me," John says, leaning forward, a bit worried now.

"It's..." She sighs, looks down at her hands. "It's a bit personal?"

"Oh my god you're pregnant!" John blurts out, his momentary fear overriding his usually good brain-mouth-filter.

"Dad, what the actual fuck! I'm not fucking pregnant!" Rosie rolls her eyes so hard John wonders if she sprained something. "You know I'm on birth control. You went with me to get my first prescription, for fuck's sake."

"Accidents happen, my dear," John says, gesturing at his lovely daughter, who, light of his life, and joy of his world as she may be, was also very much an unplanned pregnancy.

"Fair enough," Rosie admits, deflating a bit. "Still."

"It wasn't a completely unreasonable assumption. You have a boyfriend, you're twenty, I'm assuming you're having sex."

"Please, dad!" Rosie exclaims, the tips of her ears turning red. "I really don't want to talk about my sex life."

"You think I do?"

Rosie makes a very Sherlock-like 'never mind all that nonsense now' gesture. "Anyway," she says, giving John a glare that tells him to shut up until she's finished. "It's actually kind of about Mark."

John nods, to let her know he's listening, but carefully and deliberately keeps his mouth shut, even as he's thinking, If he hurt you, I'll kill him so fucking dead so quickly he'll never know what hit him.

"It's... you know... he's... well, he's a boy," Rosie finally gets out.

John blinks a few times. Waits a bit. When it's clear Rosie won't be any more forthcoming about the issue, he dares to ask, "And?"

She looks down at her hands, studying them with unwarranted fascination. "I'm..." She sighs. "When did you know you were bisexual?"

John exhales audibly. Now he knows what this is about. In a family of mostly queer people, Rosie seems to have assumed she'd be some kind of queer as well. And if anyone knows how complicated identity can be, especially if it's weighed down by expectation, it's John. "Um. Quite honestly, I'm not sure I am."

Rosie looks up, surprised. "I mean. Mum. And Paps. Um. You know..." she makes a 'please fill in the gaps yourself' gesture.

"Look," John says, leaning forward and taking his daughter's hands. "I personally think labels are vastly overrated. If a word, or a label, or a phrase, helps you to better understand yourself, that's great. Use that label as long as it serves you, and if it doesn't anymore, use another one. As for me, I was raised in an environment where being different was bad. What kind of different you were exactly was completely beside the point. And I saw first-hand how the world treated your aunt, so I thought, best not think about it. I wasn't that attracted to men, it wasn't difficult to ignore. Until I met Paps, and you know how difficult he is to ignore."

Rosie grins. "Oh, yeah. So Paps made you bi?"

"No, you know it doesn't work like that. He made me... " John answers, smiling fondly at the memory. "Well, quite simply, he made me fall in love. He was—still is, of course—the most intriguing, gorgeous, infuriating, exasperating, fascinating person I've ever met, and I fell in love with him so hard, and so fast. But I wasn't ready, and he wasn't ready, and it took us years to get our acts together. And part of that was that we both couldn't accept a fundamental truth: The heart wants what the heart wants. Fighting against it only brings misery and destruction." He squeezes Rosie's hands. "So. Do you love Mark?"

She nods, her eyes shining with the truth of it.

"Is he good to you? Good for you?"

She nods again.

"Then who the fuck cares about anything else?"

Rosie's silent for a bit, apparently mulling over his words, still holding on to his hands. "So," she finally says, looking up from her joint hands with a smile. "You'll love me even if I'm straight?"

"Well, love, I suppose I can overlook this glaring character flaw. Also, you might meet a stunning lesbian when you're forty and she'll rock your entire world and turn everything you thought you knew about yourself upside down. And I want you to remember," he says, leaning in a bit more, looking deeply into her eyes, "I'm fine with everything, as long as you give me some grandkids first."

Rosie laughs and pushes him away. "Fuck off."

John gets up and makes his way to the kitchen. "So, sexual identity crisis over? You want to have some tea now?"

"Of course I want tea. But what you're saying, if I understand you correctly, is not to assume I'm straight just because I fell in love with a man?"

"I'm saying," John says, flicking the kettle on, "is that it doesn't matter, love. Gay, straight, pan, bi, ace, all these labels are useful if they help you understand yourself. But if you feel boxed in by a label, don't use it. Use another one. Use none at all. Let nothing ever keep you from knowing and understanding your own heart. That's the only thing that matters. I might be bi, who knows. The important thing is that I love Sherlock with all my heart, and that I made a commitment to him. Everything else is just noise."

Rosie is quiet for a bit, looking thoughtfully at the fire crackling cherrily in the hearth of 221B. "You're getting soft in your old age, Dad," she finally says, with a grateful smile.

John hands her a mug, drops a kiss on her head. "Love you too, dear," he says, smiling into her hair.

----

Don't forget that I'm collecting these ficlets here on AO3, and don't forget to check out the wonderful collection of May prompt ficlets as well. I know I'm already looking forward to reading all of them again.

Tags under the cut as usual.

@calaisreno @totallysilvergirl @jrow @peanitbear @jolieblack @meetinginsamarra @helloliriels @keirgreeneyes @lisbeth-kk @friday411 @givemesherbet-blog-blog @weeesi @thalialunacy @thegildedbee @dapetty @salmonsown

#johnlock #bbc sherlock #my fic #may prompts 2024 #pride #rosie watson #parentlock

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fiddles-ifs · 2 days

Text

[ID: A banner-style graphic featuring a coyote's open mouth on a dark black background. Orange all-caps text near the bottom of the image reads: "happy birthday Greenwarden." /end ID]

Happy birthday to my firstborn problem!! I'm trying really hard to not think about how long it's actually been, but to celebrate Greenwarden being mysteriously old I'm posting a former Patreon snippet! I'm also announcing that 1) I quit me day job, and 2) I'm going to be compiling a bunch of Greenwarden shorts that would have gone up on Patreon if I had kept it up. More on that to come when I get all my ducks in a line.

GRAVEROBBING AND NECROMANCY FOR DUMMIES

Marianna & Tracker. 16+. Grimdark Fantasy AU. Scofiddle Pepper Rating: Bell Pepper.

Content Warnings: Blood, minor wounds, implied mind-control, mentions of death.

Mausoleums always have a certain smell — mold, mildew, cracking damp stone. The decay of rock and mortar, but never flesh. The sarcophagi are tightly sealed with both wards and wax, partially to keep the smell at bay. No air, nor Light, nor hands will ever creep inside them. The Silent Mercies do their grim work and do it well, keeping them locked up tight. Then they leave — that's the extent of their dues to the dead.

They can count themselves lucky. Corpses don't exactly make great company. Particularly when some of them are itching to come back.

You can't help but feel like there are eyes on you, your torch cutting through the dark, damp guts of the tomb. An intrusion. Indigestion. The violent, flickering orange light makes the shadows greasy. You'd use a magelight, but you're already dancing on the razor-thin line between bravery and stupidity; you don't want to risk waking something. Someone.

They were people once, allegedly, but you know what pride morphs people into.

Particularly powerful necromancers resist even the cleansing fire of holy Light, their sentience existing in each molecule of ash, slowly piecing themself back together with sheer will and hate. It may take hundreds — maybe thousands — of years, but eventually they will come back. So, the Temple does what it can. The liches are bound, still conscious, and placed in a sarcophagus. The sarcophagus is sealed — with prayer, with wax, with chains and locks both physical and magical — and a mausoleum built around it. The Silent Mercies make their rounds indefinitely, strengthening the wards and installing ever more complex locks. Hundreds of years turn into thousands.

The hopeful end result is a stark raving mad lich warlock that will, if all goes well, blissfully prefer the judgment of the Light before they suffer one more second of silent, unmoving, stagnant solitude. Time and again the methods of the Temple are proven effective. Terrifying, and effective. Most choose to vacate their own bodies than live in the dark for an undetermined amount of time. Unable to move. Unable to see. Slowly withering away, mummifying, rotting in your own skin. Whatever you’re going to find will not be human anymore – if it was ever human in the first place.

You cross the dusty, time-ravaged stone floor to the sarcophagus at the far end of the room. It's a short walk. Mausoleums are traditionally small, most especially the ones outside of temples, reserved for the vilest of the old guard, the lichkings who dared to try and defy death. Beings that rejected humanity, even rejected immolation, and should not under any circumstances be within spitting distance of a residential area.

Zoning laws: the bane of all undead tyrants.

There's only one — which is nerve-wracking. It sits placidly on a raised dais set with small, half-melted candles, as if it’s waiting for you. A frozen slime trail of old wax meanders down the dais, caught in time. The thrum of magic tickles your fingertips. Brushing, like a cat would, up against your palms and skittering up your arms. Both a beckoning and a warning. Temptation.

It's wrong. A singular coffin is like finding a singular roach. Not wholly uncommon, but it sets your teeth on edge.

It means one of two things: either the Temple managed to burn the master’s undead servants, even the stubborn ones. Or, worse – they’re afraid of what it might do with nearby corpses, even sealed away.

Your arms itch. You set your torch in a conveniently placed wall sconce and start working to get your mind off things.

The Temple of Light may not like to admit it, but what they do is magic. The prayers wielded by their paladins and clerics are incantations; the talismans created by their monks are charms, woven out of somewhat less mathematically inclined sigils. Magic. They hang and burn people for it in the streets, but it keeps their mausoleums tightly locked and their church in power.

Like any spell, a prayer can be broken with a little bit of reverse engineering. And you are very good at breaking things.

Maybe it's the uniqueness of your situation, or maybe you were just created with something special, but seeing the patterns in the weave and weft of magic comes second nature to you. Almost like a physical thing. A golden projection of arcane artistry.

It's a complicated spell; the Woodsman lived hundreds of years ago, long enough that even its very name was forgotten. The ward is centuries of layers, each one getting more and more complex as the Silent Mercies learned what incantations and motions were most effective at keeping the dead at bay. Trails of cold, melted wax dripping down time. A beautiful puzzle, just for you. You're always half-giddy, knowing that you may very well be the only one who can truly see the work, the history behind it, and that you might be the only one smart enough not just to break it to pieces, but coax it open.

Enough. You need to be fast.

Your forehead tenses, brows knit as you start reversing half a millennia of spellcraft. Delicately, slowly, you work out the motions, but in reverse. A twist of your hand, fingers curled, your arm moving in hypnotic diamonds and stars and spirals. Shapes designed to trap and contain. The fingers on your other hand open and close in the same fractal rhythm half a canto ahead, parsing out the right steps in the dance before you walk the dancefloor. You're a conductor, ripping carefully crafted sheet music to shreds. The torch flickers.

There's no sound but your own short, elated huff of laughter when your hand slides into place at the ward's terminus. Deep in your hindbrain, a lock falls open with a satisfying click!

“Don't move.”

Oh. That's a sword — you feel the tip of it caressing the nape of your neck. Slowly, carefully, you raise your hands to the sides of your head. You’re unarmed, and thankful you have gloves on.

“Turn around.”

It’s not like you have room to argue.

You’re face-to-face with the tip of a shiny, well-polished blade. The silver coating makes your back teeth itch. You feel it vibrating, still coming down, hypersensitive to atomic changes in the air. You’re also face-to-chest with an extraordinarily tall cleric in their classic white and gold armor. An immediate, violent chill settles into your spine.

She’s hard-faced, hair cut bluntly short; she gives you the impression that her only expression is scowl. You prepare yourself to fire and run. It’ll set your research back months – maybe even a year – but you’ll live.

“Explain yourself.” You’re taken aback by that – you do a quick three-point look around the room and with your head and then spread your hands out a little further.

“I mean,” you say, “I think we both know I’m not supposed to be here.”

She doesn’t like that. Her hands choke a little tighter around her sword grip, leather squealing and platemail clicking as she shifts even deeper into a fighting stance. The sword gets a little closer to your face. A sweat breaks out between your shoulder blades.

“You’re a mage.”

“And you’re a cleric.” Impasse. Stand off. Stare down. Neither of you are willing to make the first move – maybe she’s hoping for a peaceful resolution. That you’ll go gracefully to the stake.

Fat chance, but something changes when she opens her mouth to reply.

You don’t like the look that falls over the cleric’s face – wide eyed, eyebrows to the hairline, mouth half-open. The blood leaving her face. The slight tremble in her steady hands. Fear.

Slowly, you twist your neck to look behind you.

The Woodsman’s coffin is open – a deep, yawning blackness slides out of it, liquid trapped inside thin film. On the coattails of the light-drinking sludge, a skeletal hand slides, damn near leisurely, out of the sarcophagus. What follows is a horror of ancient science. Half human, half… something else.

The antlers crown its head, but the head is canine, deep pinpoints of light inside empty sockets. Mummified skin knits across bone, thin as paper and patchy in places. Its teeth are bare to the world and yellowed with centuries. You watch the slick, black flesh form an amorphous mass beneath the skull, the arms nothing but bone haphazardly slapped onto an overgorged slug.

You were hoping it wasn’t in there – everything you’ve learned told you it had probably vacated its body years ago. There had been no activity for so long – no plague of nightmares, no major possessions, no strange activity in the flora and fauna – and yet. The Woodsman slithers out of its unlocked tomb on a tide of melted void-flesh, rises on it until it has to bend, its shoulders scraping the ceiling of the mausoleum. It opens its mouth wide – skin and gristle clinging to its jaw in loose strings – and shrieks.

It’s shrill and piercing. You’re concussed, briefly, slapping your hands over your ears. You feel it – in your head. Scraping the inside of your skull, dark wordless whispers in your hindbrain. It knows you. It sees you. It’s in your head.

The cleric pushes you behind her, nearly to the door in the tiny mausoleum. You’re confused – still concussed. You don’t run.

“Go!” She shouts, swinging and hacking at the growing sea of rotting flesh. She swings too wide – the silver-steel scrapes against the walls of the mausoleum and sparks. The Woodsman just keeps growing. One by one, the candles and torch are swallowed whole. A deep, endless black. A tidal wave of nothing.

You’re not about to argue. You turn tail and run out the door.

Two steps past the tomb, you stumble to a stop. A quick, hard-breathing glance behind you lets you know that the cleric already isn’t doing well. She’s fighting like an animal, punching what she can’t cut. Every slice is swallowed up by more reeling, lightless flesh. You still feel the Woodsman’s scritching little claws, furrows in your soft, pliant brain. Every iota of you recoils away from it. But that cleric – she let you go.

You look down at your hands. The dark leather gloves, fingertips worn, the edges frayed.

Shaking, you slip them off your hands and leave them in the grass.

You grab the back of the cleric’s breastplate and yank her back into fresh air, swapping places in one smooth transition. You don’t know what she sees. If she notices the dark, blue-black corrupted skin of your hands or the bright runes squirming over your arms while you reach deep in yourself for something destructive. The bands around your wrists and throat mark you as a Thing – something broken loose. The Woodsman tugs at your tattered ghost leash with an interested spiritual hand, head cocked. Your programming demands you kneel for consumption, and your knees twitch before you get yourself back under control. You almost see a wink of recognition.

Little homunculus, the Woodsman whispers, curling around the base of your skull like a cat, so far from home.

“Shut up,” you say, and light up the room.

The Temple of Light has claimed the lichkings reject holy fire and immolation – they just haven’t tried something hot enough. Your fire is pure destruction, white with heat, blinding against the greasy black corruption sludge coating the walls. The Woodsman shrieks – pain, rage, confusion. Spikes of pain explode behind your eyes, and you burn them away too.

You wade through the muck, scorching it all to ash, beating the Woodsman back until it tries to seek refuge again in its sarcophagus, huddling in the pit. A child taking refuge in a cellar. Curled at the back of a cell. Useless, useless.

You reach out with a flame-licked hand and clamp down hard on its muzzle.

“Shut up,” you hiss, and watch fire make cracks in its skull. It rakes your arms with bony claws, opening bloody gashes in your flesh. The blood sizzles and evaporates almost instantly.

The Woodsman’s head explodes with a loud crack, bone shards ripping through the skin of your cheek. The rest of it goes limp in a heap. What’s left, you turn to coal dust, just in case. When you’re done, all that’s left of the Woodsman is a greasy soot stain coating the floor, walls, and ceiling. It’s a little gruesome. Reminds you uncomfortably of blood.

You coax the flames back in, lower and lower, wobbling with exhaustion, until a comfortable, warm dark swallows you. There’s light in it – ambient, soft reflections of the moon outside. The sarcophagus is a welcome resting spot, using its high lip to stay half-standing. Even then, you see little spots in your vision, the edges going blurry. A few drops of blood slide out of your nose and splatter on the ground. Your ears are ringing.

“You’ve got red on you.” You jump.

The cleric is standing there, wiping blood and slime off her face. One of her eyes is nearly glued shut, an open wound on her brow pouring red down her cheek and under her collar. You give her a once-over before you weakly tilt your chin up.

“So do you,” you say. She nods – holds out her hand.

“Marianna.”

Cautiously, you cross the floor on shaky legs to take it, and give her your name. The one you picked for yourself – it feels nice. To introduce yourself, for once. She almost crushes your hand. You’re comparatively weak.

“You saved my life, mage,” Marianna says. You grin with a mouthful of bloody teeth, an acknowledgement.

Then, your body finally gives up. You’re blissfully unconscious before you hit the ground.

#long post #sensible chuckle over the scofiddle pepper rating. anyways!#former patrons will have seen this already but i couldnt figure out what to do for our birthday this year #except feed everyones bautista addictions #and im pretty proud of this au!! :3

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 10 hours

Note

AITA For Not Budging On A Potentially Unconventional Need?

I (M20+) have BPD and Autism, and when I was younger, they'd both team up to cause me a lot of struggle.

One of the biggest things I used to do was self isolate when I was upset or worried, and just sit around after throwing out some red flags, hoping someone would read my mind and ask me if I was alright.

OBVIOUSLY THAT WASN'T VERY HEALTHY, neither for myself or for others. I definitely think that was an "ESH" time period.

So now that I'm older, in therapy, taking meds, and generally doing better and am a lot happier, I put clear communication as my #1 priority in all of my relationships.

I don't phrase anything in a way that sounds confrontational, I don't tell people what they can or can't do, who they can or can't talk with, don't get jealous too easily, etc. I only ask for honesty, compromise, and mutual respect for boundaries.

I really thought I was doing well for myself by swapping "I won't communicate at all" out for "I need to communicate often"

But one thing that I just can't seem to stop is the paranoia when it comes to people I'm particularly close and very vulnerable with; I'll notice certain changes in their demeanor and worry it's because I've done something wrong, or that they don't like me as much anymore. Sometimes I CAN brush it off and wait it out until I'm inadvertently proven otherwise.

But if it's not going away, and I'm worried it's just getting worse, I need to just ask for their honest thoughts and get it over with. If for some reason they were actually upset, my intention would NOT be to double down or lash out. I just DON'T want to be strung along by a lie, as has happened!

This isn't really that common of an occurrence either. Maybe every few weeks during particularly hard periods.

I don't feel this way about people I'm not very close to, and people who do manage to get very close to me know this about me; I keep no secrets about my mental health and try to be extremely upfront. A lot of people will say at first that they understand, but over time, I'll eventually get that flack and heartache from them, saying that it's just too exhausting for them. At best, I'm kinda teased for it. It's made me feel like I haven't made as much progress in my recovery as I thought I had, which sucks.

It's not me starting arguments or fights, or accusing them of anything. Just me saying "Hey, I've been feeling a little paranoia lately, is everything okay between us? Is there anything we should talk about?" or something like that.

I'm really conflicted about it.

On one hand, I feel like if things are okay, it shouldn't be difficult or tiring to say "Nope, everything's alright, dw!" If you still like me in a certain way, why would it be tiring to just say so? It takes maybe five seconds to type/say. The only way I can see it being tiring is if they were just telling me white lies about how they felt, and had to maintain the act.

On the other hand, I know BPD isn't without its delusions, and that Autism isn't without its "misunderstanding of social norms". I know I'm likely to see things differently from others. I know it's not exactly EASY to love someone like me. Maybe it IS too much of a demand, and I've just convinced myself it's not?

This IS something I'm trying to work through in therapy regardless, but I just worry that it isn't a symptom that will ever fully go away, and instead it needs to be worked with.

Am I the asshole for standing by that, at LEAST for now? Is it fair? Or is that too much of a need for people to reasonably accommodate? Am I just not trying hard enough to be better?

If I ever got particularly close to someone again, would I be an asshole for again insisting that if I need reassurance to dismiss an oncoming spiral, they should be able to meet that need instead of asking that I keep the paranoia to myself and just deal with it on my own? Which may or may not work, or even make things worse.

I know it can make people feel like I don't trust them. That much I do understand! But I've tried telling them that it's not that I don't trust or respect them, I don't trust or respect myself. I dunno if that makes sense to anyone without BPD, though.

This is both a "Was I the asshole?" and a "Would I be the asshole?" ask I guess, lol

#aita #am i the asshole

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thats-a-mood-gabriella · 21 hours

Text

Okay. I kinda want to walk through what I think is happening in each of their heads during the conversation. For my own sake, mainly, but who knows, maybe someone else will find it useful. Spoilers ahead, obviously. (Also fair warning that this is long and I expect nobody to actually read it; this is mostly for me.)

So let's establish first where they are when Blitz arrives.

Blitz hates himself. He's on the path to healing after making up with Fizz, but it is a very long road ahead. So if you can imagine it as a spectrum where "hates self" and "loves self" are on opposite ends, maybe he's not all the way at the hates self end anymore, but he's still pretty darn far over that way. So Blitz is arriving thinking he's unlovable, that he makes everyone's lives worse, and that Stolas is possibly getting bored of him. We also know from his half of the duet that he genuinely looks forward to these full moon nights and likes their arrangement. Makes sense. It provides him with the comfort of what he thinks is the closest he can get to an actual relationship where all he has to give is something he knows that he can and that he's good at (sex). He wants to keep the arrangement going. Yes, for a way to earth, but also for Stolas. This, in Blitz's mind, is the only way he gets to keep him.

Stolas is likely unmedicated for his depression, since this show doesn't show us things like him being out of his pills as just a throwaway joke; it's important. Anyone who has ever had depression knows that it just loves to remind you of the worst things about yourself, most of which aren't even true. It tells you that you're worthless and unlovable. We can see this in the way he's covered everyone but Octavia in the artworks in his home, mirroring Blitz scribbling himself out of photos. He's been in a dark place. But Stolas is also being so brave, ready to ask Blitz to love him anyway. To choose him of his own free will, the way it should've always been. His depression is making it hard, but he's going out on the limb anyway and hoping Blitz will catch him.

"I need it back...permanently."

Blitz starts panicking. He reacts like a puppy that's been told it's a bad dog. He starts promising that he can be good, he can do better. He can fuck Stolas like nobody else can.

Stolas rebuffs the advance and this is interesting to me-- Blitz slips into his dom persona a little, trying to regain control of the situation. He calls Stolas "bitch" and pushes his legs apart, lowers his voice to be seductive. And it alllllllmost works, just for a second, as Stolas blushes and starts to fall under the spell of it all. But then he gets himself back under control and reasserts this new boundary.

Blitz immediately drops the act and starts to beg with genuine distress, tears in his eyes even, and up until this point, I won't argue with you if you try to tell me that it's all about the grimoire. I disagree, but I'll let you get away with telling yourself that. Right up until this point.

Because this is when Stolas holds out the crystal and everything changes.

Their fucking leitmotif or whatever you call it, I don't know music terms, it starts playing, changing from the dramatic, ominous music before. Blitz starts inspecting the crystal like he doesn't believe it's real.

Let's be clear: he knows what an Asmodean crystal is and what it does. He's seen them before at least twice, both in 2x05. So it's not that he's in disbelief or confusion about what it does or that it exists. It's that Stolas is giving it to him that's taking him aback.

"You no longer need my grimoire." "Whaaaat?"

Because all Blitz is hearing is "you don't need me now. I can be rid of you without guilt."

"I don't understand. Why are you giving me this? Am I not fucking you good enough? Because I can always do better."

Let's take a second to pretend we're in a world where Blitz has zero feelings for Stolas. That this has always just been about getting to earth. In that world, Blitz never says this line. In that world, Blitz splits right here. He has the crystal in his hands. He knows what it does. He is officially 100% free at this point.

But we don't live in that universe and this line proves it. Blitz thinks he's being cast aside and instead of seeing it as his chance at freedom from Stolas, he's begging to be kept.

I can do better. Don't throw me away.

"I care...very deeply for you. And I have for some time."

This is the face Blitz makes after that. The entire time Stolas is talking, he keeps looking between Stolas and the crystal while making this face, like he literally can't process what is happening. Of all the things he expected to happen tonight, this wasn't even on the list. And remember: Blitz hates himself. Blitz genuinely believes he is unlovable.

Have you ever experienced something so surreal that it's almost like you left your body during it? Like your brain literally couldn't process that this was happening to you, so it's almost like you dissociate to the point that you feel like you're watching it happen to someone else? Because things like this don't happen! Not to you. These are things you see on TV or hear happening to other people. But to YOU? There's no way it's real.

"You don't have to stay here with me."

He looks ALARMED. Scared. The thought that he's about to lose Stolas genuinely startles him. He doesn't want what he thinks is happening. He doesn't want to be cast aside. If his choice is this or the chains, he'd rather the chains.

But. That's not the choice he's being presented. Because Stolas adds,

"But I want you to."

And Blitz's brain, his traumatized, mentally ill brain...just can not process that. No one wants to keep him. He's a commodity to be bought and sold and has been since his father sold him to Paimon as a child (which, by the way, I'm fairly convinced he thinks was Stolas's idea, not Paimon's). Maybe even before.

So his defense mechanisms kick in from this point on. Default to what's comfortable. It must be a sex thing! There's no way Stolas means this, so it's gotta be some weird roleplay. Well, he can do that! He can swoon and say he loves him (and if that hits a little too close to the truth, then fuck you, no it doesn't) and it's fine because this is fake. This can't be real, because things like this don't happen to someone as "worthless" as Blitz believes himself to be.

Blitz is trying to protect his own heart here, but what Stolas is hearing is rejection. Blitz playing it off as a joke must mean that Stolas is a joke for ever thinking Blitz could love him back. And why would he? Stolas doesn't see himself as lovable, either. One of his earliest memories is of Blitz "using" him to steal from the palace, never knowing that Blitz was only doing so on his father's orders, just as Blitz probably doesn't know that he was bought on Paimon's order, not Stolas's. He's a commodity, too.

Stolas's depression immediately puts him in a place where he can't see past his own pain and self-loathing. Blitz not immediately jumping into his arms must mean that all the worst things he thinks about himself are true. Blitz sees him as the monster he fears he is.

So he pulls himself together and starts to walk. And again, Blitz could leave here if he didn't care.

But the strangest thing happens. Blitz realizes that Stolas meant it. He even asks,

"Wait, you were being serious? Hold on, Stolas. What the fuck?"

He's trying to talk it out. He's trying to have the conversation. He's hurt and confused and in disbelief but he's not running from this. He's not letting Stolas walk away from him because he wants Stolas, and he's actively trying to keep him. They have to talk this through, and Blitz of all people is the one trying to pull Stolas back into the conversation.

"The fact that you couldn't believe that I could have these feelings about you, the fact that your first instinct is that it's always about sex, that's enough to know what this is."

See, what we have to remember is that Stolas doesn't have all the information we do. He hasn't seen the crossed out pictures, he didn't witness the flashback to the fire that killed Blitz's mom. Stolas hasn't watched Blitz cry himself to sleep or drink himself into a stupor after what he perceived as a public rejection at Ozzie's. Neither of them have all the information about each other that we, the audience do.

So when Stolas, who doesn't know that Blitz hates himself and thinks himself unlovable, hears that Blitz thinks there's no way that Stolas could love him, what Stolas hears is "you, Stolas, are an unlovable monster in my eyes."

It just confirms all the worst things Stolas thinks about himself. It's a literal, "it's not you, it's me," situation, but Stolas can't see that because he doesn't have all the information.

And here's what's even more interesting. Blitz doesn't think it's over like Stolas does. He's not rejecting Stolas.

"Fuck you, Stolas. You spring this feelings bullshit on me, are you fucking kidding? Can I get a fucking minute to think after everything you put me through, you pompous, rich, asshole?"

This is Blitz saying that this is all very unexpected for him, but he's not saying no. He's saying "give me a minute, let me think. Don't take my first reaction in the way that you are. I was surprised. I was in disbelief. Give me a fucking minute to PROCESS."

But by this point, it's too late. Stolas's self-loathing has taken the driver's seat in his brain and all he can hear is that Blitz hates him, that he is unlovable, that he's a monster, that he's all the things he feared were true, and the person telling him that is the person he cared (second) most for in the entire world.

Blitz's defense mechanism is fight. Stolas's is flight. And so when Blitz unloads on him like that, Blitz is trying, in his own messed up way, to have the conversation. To work this out. To be honest for once and see if they can get somewhere now that the dam has been broken. While Stolas...his instinct is to flee. And since he's the one with the magic portals, guess what happens?

"I didn't realize you think so low of me."

You can tell by Blitz's reaction that he realizes they're not having the conversation he thinks they are. He realizes in that instant that Stolas isn't going to yell back with him. They're not going to scream at each other until they get it all out of their systems and reach a catharsis. He's hurt Stolas, maybe in a way that they can't come back from, and he immediately shifts his demeanor.

"Stolas, wait. I'm so--"

And then it's over. He's been kicked out of the palace. Thrown aside, just like he feared he would be.

And each of them are left feeling like the other thinks they're a monster, because neither of them realize that the only person who thinks they're a monster is themself.

I gotta go lie down, jfc.

#helluva boss spoilers #stolitz #why did i do this to myself

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likesomanywrecksdo · 8 hours

Text

fun fact: full moon made me throw up (srsly)

ALSO SPOILERSSSSSS FOR FULL MOON (HELLUVA BOSS S2 EP8)!!! DON'T READ IF U HAVEN'T WATCHED PLSSS

STOLITZ PART 1/2- STOLAS IN FULL MOON

I AM NOT A STOLAS HATER, I LOVE STOLAS WITH ALL MY HEART (i have two hearts, one for stolas and one for blitzø). JUST WANTED TO POINT OUT SOME THINGS HE COULD'VE HANDLED BETTER IN FULL MOON.

Look, I feel SO BAD that Stolas' beautiful love confession was (in Stolas' POV) basically ridiculed and that his first "ily" was a complete joke. I love Full Moon because it explored the many facets of both character's and their complexities.

So let's talk abt where Stolas went wrong in Full Moon (making a part abt Blitzø too, dw nobody is safe heheh)

Stolas knows this is a hard conversation, he's taken into account IMP and keeping it alive and everything but the way he approached the actual topic (deal getting cut off) was very rash. Stolas does not think wisely about his words ("i need it back...permanently" (18:15) + "there's no need, i've made up my mind" (18:39)). Even though Stolas is giving him an out, he does not understand the leverage he has over Blitzø. This is the main thing I noticed abt Stolas in Full Moon, He seems to have come to a realization abt how wrong their deal is but has not come to terms abt how wrong their dynamic is. So when Stolas was pouring his heart out abt how he "wants Blitzø to stay", he is not realizing that Blitzø still has not had time to process him taking away the book in the first place and saying Blitzø does not need to fuck him anymore. This is something that Stolas and only Stolas could ever have the power to do bc of the power dynamic between them. Stolas think he's doing Blitzø a favour but all he's doing is reminding Blitzø that no matter how hard he has worked, it can all dissapear at Stolas' command, further enforcing the

"Blitzø, I think so very highly of you....i didn't realize you think so low of me" (HES CRYING FROM BOTH PAIR OF EYES, MY BABYYYYY)

Stolas babe, if you call someone ur little impish plaything, literally hide ur face with a menu when u get spotted in public with him, literally give him no choice but to fuck you in order to have a livelihood and successful business, HOW IS THAT TELLING HIM U THINK HIGHLY OF HIM? Look, i get it, Stolas does rlly care abt Blitzø, but the problem is, Stolas doesn't see his actions as harmful, he sees the deal as harmful. Stolas doesn't understand that such a huge power, stature and literal socio-economic gap is going to cause some issues that no crystals can fix. Stolas' ingrained bigotry towards imps as well as desperation to escape from his awful marriage cause him to be impulsive and abuse that power, unconsciously.

Stolas' biggest character flaw is his impulsiveness. He realised his sexuality extremely late and now is trying to experience as many things as possible to get back his childhood. He did it through the deal so he could find enjoyment in one thing in his life as well as experience a pivotal point in his queer awakening. The Full Moon Talk, despite being under the guise of maturity, is just as impulsive as the arrangement. Stolas is expecting a certain answer and expecting it immediately. Stolas has had time to understand his emotions and he knew exactly what he wanted to say before Blitzø came. Blitzø came in blind and Stolas knows he's bad with his feeling EVERYONE KNOWS BC IT'S SO OBVIOUS, so the fact that Stolas was expecting some grand love confession when Stolas literally speedrun the difficult parts of the conversation is unfair.

#helluva boss #helluva boss stolitz #helluva boss stolas #helluva boss full moon #helluva blitzo #helluva boss blitzo #hellaverse #helluva stolas #helluva boss full moon spoilers

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hazelkjt · 3 days

Note

For the touch prompts

_ "how long has it been since someone hugged you?

Touched Starved Prompts Write up below ----------

The two lay on the bed in near silence, the crackling of the fireplace nearby breaking the quiet periodically. Hazel rubs her thumb overtop Zero's shoulder, taking note of the way the Voidsent almost seems to squirm under her touch...like before...

It wasn't the first time she's noticed this. Every time the two of them had physical intimacy of any sort, Zero almost seemed to recoil at every touch, though in spite of this the Voidsent has never spoken a word about being in discomfort. She eventually leans into the contact but it's happened enough times for Hazel to notice.

Hazel purses her lips and ponders her words before speaking. "Hey Zee...you mind if I ask you something?" The Au Ra goes over her next words carefully as Zero opens her eyes and gazes back to her. "Of course." Straight and to the point, as always with Zero.

"...How long has it been since someone hugged you? Or like, held you close like this?" Hazel decided to answer Zero's straightforwardness with her own. Hazel immediately felt the Voidsent's grip on her knee tighten ever so slightly. The two sit in silence for a few moments, Hazel's mind racing as she begins to believe she said something wrong. Thankfully a reply comes not too much later.

"I...can't say I remember." Her tone was more somber than usual. Hazel holds Zero closer to her chest as she continues. "I assume it was my mother, though all my memories of her have long since been forgotten. I can't recall ever being as close to someone else as I am with you either, so there is little chance of any other opportunities. What brought this question about?" The return question stopped Hazel in her tracks, though she really should have seen it coming.

"Well, I mean, it's just, you know..." Hazel stammers, going back to rubbing Zero's shoulder again, this time out of nervousness. "Whenever someone or something touches you, you seem to pull away from it. If you don't want to get this close we can-"

"No, it's quite alright...we can stay like this." Zero cuts her off before the rambling truly gets going. "It...it's merely taking some time for me to adjust to this...being vulnerable like this. Normally letting another Voidsent this close would lead you to being devoured...keeping others away is a force of habit. I am sorry you find it off-putting."

"No! Nononono! It's fine, I totally get it!" Hazel quickly tries to reassure Zero, pulling the Voidsent closer to herself. The swiftness and force of the gesture must have been a bit of a shock as the Au Ra could feel Zero tense up as she did it. "Sorry about that, it's just..." Hazel trails off for a moment as she brings her forehead down to touch the back of Zero's head. "I don't want you to have to feel on edge all the time anymore. You deserve to have this kind of love in your life again, after everything. So I guess, just let me know how I can help."

Hazel begins to pull her head away, only to find Zero moving her head back as well to keep up the moment of contact, resting the back of her head on Hazel's chin. "You are already helping...thank you." She looks up at Hazel with a gentle glimmer in her stare. The two returned to their silence, content with gazing into one another's eyes as time begins to slip away.

#tyty for the ask!!#ffxiv #ffxiv gpose #ffxiv screenshots #ffxiv oc #au ra #xaela #hazel kha #WoL!Hazel #zero ffxiv #ffxiv zero #wol x zero #hazero

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sports-on-sundays · 1 day

Note

Hello! Could I request something with Marc Guiu where he is smitten by reader who is two years older than him. She also live abroad. And she doesn't stop saying no to Marc to get into a relationship but Marc is adamant and wants to prove her that they can work a relationship together.

Like reader is studying in uni, having her own problems and doesn't want to add a long-distance relationship on top of those things.

Thank you! And I want to say that I really appreciate reading whatever you write.

Giving you a lot of hugs and hoping that you get your inspiration back 🥰

ready when you are / Marc Guiu

Summary: Marc x female!reader - Marc can't get you off his mind. You wish you could get him out of your face.

Warnings: suggestion of depriving oneself of proper self care

Requested?: Yes!

Author's Note: You're literally a lifesaver; thanks so much! Also, I made this a little bit more romantic and emotional than your request suggested, but do you really expect any different from tumblr user sports-on-sundays?!

Sometimes you think that giving Marc Guiu your number was the biggest mistake of your life.

You know it sounds mean, and it's not that you don't like Marc. He's funny; you enjoy chatting with him.

The only thing you did not realise, though, when you gave him your number, was that the boy is smitten by you.

He's stuck on you.

You just thought it'd be kind of cool. You know, you have the opportunity to stay in touch with Marc Guiu. Not world class or anything, but you're a Barcelona girl. It was just a cool idea.

Now, just as you're slipping under your quilt to shut your eyes for some sleep, nearly halfway across from Marc Guiu, in the United States of America (it was a treat to spend a lot of time here), you suddenly, to your dismay, hear your phone vibrating on the end table.

You roll over to snatch it up in annoyance, and sigh even louder when you see it's Marc trying to face time you.

You blow air out through your lips before sitting up and answering, immediately saying, "Is it not, like, 4:00 or 5:00 in the morning there?"

"It's 6:00 A.M.!" the guy beams, his brown eyes sparkling. "You said you didn't want me calling at 9:00 A.M. anymore, since that's like 3:00 A.M. for you, and I'm waking you up in the middle of the night. So I woke up early so I could call you now!"

"Marc," you groan. "It's 12:00 A.M. here! I was just about to go to sleep! Let me make this clear- calling me in the morning for you is off-limits."

His smile very swiftly turns upside, and he almost looks hurt, which immediately fills you with a considerable amount of guilt. "Sorry," he murmurs. "I just wanted to talk to you."

You sigh. Yeah, because you're mad in love with me, you can't help thinking to yourself. You decide not to say it, and inside respond, "I know. It's fine. Don't worry about it."

"Why were you going to bed at 12:00 A.M. anyway? You should be getting more sleep than that... did you not say once you have to wake up at 5:00 A.M....?"

"Oh, Marc," you click your tongue. "With all I've got going on, the last thing I'm worried about is getting enough sleep. I'm holding up two jobs, and having to study, and everyday I give myself at least some time for exploring and travel."

"How do you do all it?" he suddenly asks.

You shrug. "I like living like this. But health isn't my concern like it is yours. We have different priorities. And yours shouldn't be ridding yourself of sleep by waking up early to talk to me, hm?"

"Yeah, yeah. Sure..."

"Now, was there something you want to tell me?"

Through the screen, across the world, you can still see the tenderness in his eyes for you. His soft spot for you that's getting just a tad bit dangerous. "No, not really... Just wanted to... hear your voice, I guess."

"Oh... Oh."

"Yeah," he clears his throat. "I guess I just miss you..."

Despite everything, and the fact that you were determined to keep this to yourself, seeing Marc so open now about this still pushes the words out of your mouth as you say, "Well, Marc... My contract ends soon, which means I'll probably be coming home back to Barcelona for my next semester... After that, though, I've got plans for France... But at least that's closer, right? And you've got me for one semester."

You don't like how 'you've got me' sounds. And you know you shouldn't have said it.

Can't give this boy any more false hope than what he already has.

"Oh!" his eyes brighten, and his mouth tilts up once again. "Seriously! I'm so excited to see you again, then!"

You chuckle. "Y- Yeah, me too. Now, can I go to bed and get a few hours of sleep in?"

"Haha! Whoa, Marc, hold your horses, mate!" you laugh as he practically jumps into your arms for a hug, causing you to drop all your bags on the airport floor. "Just because I'm older than you doesn't mean you're not bigger and stronger!"

He grins, pulling away, and immediately scoops up all your bags for you. "I've already got a cab. Come on. I'll bring you to your flat and help you unpack!"

There's not much you can do to deter the Spanish boy, and once you're in your flat, all unpacked, you two plop on the couch. You sigh in relief as you say, "Feels good to be home!"

"Feels good to have you home, Y/n," Marc pipes in.

Even though you really don't want him to think you're interested, some of the little things he says never fail to make you smile, and feel warm inside.

Whether you want it or not, being loved feels good.

But then he slips his hand in yours. "So, the United States. That was the longest you've been away. Did you miss me as much as I missed you?"

"Probably not as much," you tease truthfully, "and we did face time pretty much every single moment you could. But, yeah, I missed seeing you in 3D."

He grins, and reaches up to tuck a piece of hair behind your hair, asking softer, "So... are you ready to date me yet?"

You lick your lips. You knew this would come, sooner rather than later. You sigh. "Marc, you know my answer." You begin to slip your hand away.

He grabs it back, and brings it to his chest. Now he's looking at you earnestly. "Please, Y/n..." His happy demeanor has quite suddenly turned almost desperate. "I know we can make this work..."

"Marc, I'm not going to be in a long-distance relationship like that."

He frowns, squeezing your hand tighter, looking you right in your eyes. "We already have a long-distance friendship. Why not a little more than that?"

"That requires more emotional involvement. My heart just can't take that. I can't be getting into relationships like that at this point in my life. Maybe someday, I can settle down and find someone. But you know I'm born to run, Marc..."

He looks down. Wraps your hand in both of his and rests it in his lap. "But we'll both be better off. I can make this work. Just give me a chance. Let me prove it."

"You're eighteen. You should be focused on your own things, like football, and your career, just like I'm focused on my own things, like travelling and studying for college. You shouldn't let yourself care so much about me, Marc," you speak gently, almost soothingly. "Please, please don't find your happiness in me. I'll fail you. You mustn't find perfection in imperfect people."

"But you're perfectly imperfect, just like me. Broken, like me, and I love you for these things..." he looks up again.

"Oh, Marc," you barely whisper, staring into those eyes. "Please don't ever say you love me. It's not good for either of us."

"But I do-"

"Marc," you say, sterner. "With everything else I have on my plate, and with everything else I'm chasing after, I can't give myself to you like that. Not right now. We're both so young, you even younger than me. I'd rather see you as a younger brother than anything else-"

"But Y/n-"

"Let's just be friends, okay?"

He sighs deeply. He doesn't nod, because he doesn't want it. But instead he leans in, resting his head against your shoulder, and wraps his arms around your body.

You sigh as his warmth is spread to you.

"Well, I'll enjoy you while you're here, and call often you when you're off to France. And you could run away and go wherever in the world you want, but please. Please always come back to Barcelona. Please always come back to me. Because I'll always be waiting here for you. And I'll be ready whenever you are. Ready for you whenever you're ready for me."

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wolidolli · 13 hours

Text

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ You Want My Number?

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Jang Wonyoung x Fem!reader

𝐖/𝐂: 1.713k

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: fluff, award show, reader is 3 yrs older than wony, reader is a certified tease, reader is 5'11; I think that's it!

Walking up the stairs of the big stage, your fans were screaming their hearts out, making other idols in the venue wince.

Your group leader reached out for the trophy, which was handed to her by the mc as she stood in front of the mic.

“I…” she whimpered out, barely holding back the tears that were escaping from the corners of her eyes, “I don't even know what to say, we, our group, the staff members, worked so hard, we're so, so, so thankful for an award as amazing as this, we-"

She couldn't hold back anymore, her lips trembling as she started sobbing, you quickly walked up to her, wrapping your arms around her waist, pulling het into a tight embrace.

The girl sobbed softly on your shoulder as you patted her back reassuringly, “nari, go up to the mic, say something,” but as you looked at your fellow members face, puffy, red from crying, you sighed.

Everyone was crying, so you whispered to the girl in your arms, “hey, sua, I have to go to the mic,” the said girl nodded, moving away from you to another members arms.

You stepped towards the mic, “I would-" but you were cut off by the defining screams from your fans for you.

Other idols were shook, screams have not been this big at all throughout the night, and for a rookie group to, it was quite surprising.

“I would like to thank-" yet another row of screams followed your voice, you smirked, looking to the side for just a moment, before back at the mic, “I would like to thank everyone who helped us through this journey, I would like to give the biggest credits to out staff members for working so hard to get us here, to our producers, to the girls,” you looked back at your members smiling softly, “and most importantly out fans, they-”

Screams again, everyone was shocked, some were covering their ears, some were just staring at the screams in disbelief and some were just admiring you on the big screen.

In that some, was included Jang Wonyoung herself.

Clad in a beautiful red gown, sitting legs crossed, posture straightened, beside her members.

Her eyes had not left the big screen ever since the camera focused on you, she couldn't deny it, no one, in their right sense of mind would deny how attractive you looked in a suit.

Yes, a suit.

While your fellow group mates were dressed in beautiful dresses, all dolled up, you were in a black suit, much to everyone's surprise.

“Hey, you're staring to hard,” ive’s leader snickered beside wonyoung, “fans will notice.”

“Huh? Oh, I wasn't staring…” the girl trailed off, making the maknae scoff.

“Pfft, don't lie to us unnie, we won't tell anyone,” she winked, making wonyoung groan.

“it's nothing, seriously, just spaced out I guess.”

Wonyoung knew she was lying, yujin knew she was lying, leeseo knew she was lying, but they didn't say anything else, they just turned to the front also not staring at you.

“I would like to thank my fans, we are really happy for all the kindness and support we're receiving so far, we're so thankful, we love you guys!” with that you winked, smirked, and blew a kiss, walking down the stairs to the backstage.

Award show was already over anyway, so you might as just get changed and head home.

♡♡♡

“Congratulations, guys, we're so proud!” your staff welcomed you all with open hands, hugs and warm words were exchanged.

“It wouldn't have happened with out you all's help, thank you so much,” your leader bowed down, eyes still teary but keeping composure.

You sighed out from tiredness, sitting down on a couch, legs spread, head thrown back.

“Did you notice how our fans went crazy at the sight of you?” mai, another group member walked towards you, plopping down on your lap, “they were literally feral.”

You wrapped an arm around her waist adjusting her sitting position, “what can I say, I have that effect on people,” you smirked, making mai giggle, playfully jabbing at your chest.

You two carried on with your conversation, when you heard a commotion, you didn't pay it that much attention until, the staff members along with a familiar group started walking towards you.

“This was your idea, so why are you nervous?” yujin asked the girl beside her, slowly walking towards your group who was at the end of the hallway, probably getting ready to go home.

“I don't know either,” wonyoung fidgeted with her hands, “we're just gonna congratulate them and leave right?”

“I dunno, however you want it, this was your idea after all,” the girl chuckled, making wonyoung roll her eyes.

As they walked close to your group, wonyoung's eyes some unexplainable reason, seemed to be searching for you, and they finally landed on your figure, sprawled on a couch with your member on you lap, although you seemed to be…asleep?

Your group leader instantly jumped into action, walking towards them greeting and bowing all at the same time.

“H-hello, ive sunbaenim,” sua was visibly nervous and confused at the groups sudden arrival, turning to search for her scattered members, only to be stopped by the other leader.

“It's fine, we just wanted to congratulate you for the award,” she smiled kindly, others nodding along with her.

“Yes! We'd just like to say congrats for winning such an award,” wonyoung interfered, looking behind the leader of your group at your sleeping form that hasn't moved ever since they got there.

“Oh, let me just-" sua walked over to you, slapping you in the face lightly, making you groan.

“What?!” you mumbled, clearly someone has disturbed your sleep, and it was apparent in your voice.

“Ive sunbaenim is here to congratulate us, come, say hi,” you grumbled, but obeyed anyway, following the shorter girl, stopping in front of the mentioned group.

“Hello, it's nice to meet you ive sunbaenim,” you bowed, yujin smiled, while wonyoung on the other hand couldn't even make a eye contact with you the reason? Still unexplainable.

“Congrats on winning such an amazing award,” yujin nudged wonyoung, the girl yelping in surprise.

“Y-yeah, congratulations, for such an award,” you raised an eyebrow, examining her face before a smirk made it's way on your face.

“Thank you, so much, it means a lot to get a congrats from a senior group,” now all of your members have gathered around you, and your leader was thanking the two girls.

While ive's leader and your group members were chatting, making witty jokes and just giggling along, you were focused on a one person, wonyoung.

Wonyoung was trying to be included in the conversation going, but your eyes on her making her feel flustered, her face was flushed and suddenly it was to hot in the room for her liking.

“I-I’ll go get some water,” she quickly said, turning around.

“Do you know where the water is?” yujin remarked, making the girl stop in her tracks, she shook her head no, giving up on the ‘escape’ plan as she started walking back.

“Oh, y/n can accompany you, if you want, wonyoung sunbaenim?” your leader, called out, making you turn towards her.

“Me?”

“Yes, accompany wonyoung sunbaenim to get some water,” you nodded, already walking towards the door.

“No, no, its okay, we'll get it together later-" wonyoung denied in a rush.

“Just go, wony, we'll talk for a little bit, and when you’ll come back we'll leave,” yujin snickered, raising her eyebrows at her to let her know it was her ‘chance'.

Wonyoung just nodded after that, not saying anything, and following you right through the door.

On your way to the water, it was really silent, wonyoung wanted to talk but she hesitated still to shy around you to say anything.

She was confused, she thought it should've been the other way around, with you being shy around her, since you know, she was your senior, and you were just a rookie group, but she just guessed it was the age.

You were 01’ liner and since she was 04' liner, you were three years older than her, so she just guessed it was just the age difference.

Probably not your tall, masculine figure, or your smirk that seemed to be glued on your face every time you looked at her, or your eyes that were burning holes in her face just a few moments ago, yeah, obviously none of those reasons.

“I don't bite, you know,” she was startled by your deep voice, cutting through the stiffness in the air around you two, or was it just her? “oh, sorry, I forgot, sunbaenim.”

You chuckled, slowing down your steps a little bit to walk beside her.

Wonyoung smiled nervously, “w-what do you mean?”

“I dunno, it just feels like you want to say something but you’re to shy..?” you questioned, looking to the side at her face.

“Oh, it's nothing, I just-"

“Want my number?”

“HUH?!” wonyoung yelped out, startled by the sudden assumption from you that she wanted your number.

“Geez, chill out, I was just joking, sunbaenim,” you smirked, staring ahead, satisfied by her reaction.

“Please, just call me wonyoung,” she tried, keyword tried, to keep her composure and not agree with you and ask for your number.

It got quiet after that, only sound being of your footsteps against the hard floor.

You, finally, reached the wending machine packed full with bottles of water.

Wonyoung crouched down, getting two bottles and extending one to you, you nodded in response, quickly chugging the half of the bottle down in one sip.

“Y/n?” you looked behind you seeing, natty of kiss of life waving at you, smiling brightly.

“Here,” you suddenly extended your cellphone to wonyoung, “write in your number so we can keep in touch.”

She took the phone without any hesitation, quickly typing in her number before handing it to you.

You chuckled, “hope you'll find the way back, wony?”

She nodded softly, as you started walking away, she watched you as you hugged natty, and wonyoung felt something was it jealousy..?

She quickly shook her head from thoughts like that, started walking back to the back stage.

𝐀/𝐍: If you enjoy the fic, please - like, comment, reblog and send feedback, all of them are appreciated<3

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dearanakin · 1 day

Text

trust you | anakin skywalker: episode IV

Warning: mentions of grieving, injury, cursing

Word count: 3k

Previous chapter | Read on Wattpad

Anakin:

4 years earlier

I was standing right in front of his lifeless body. His head right next to it. My trembling hands were both holding crossed lightsabers; his and mine. I've been wanting to kill him since the day that he almost left me to die after Padmé gave birth to Luke.

Holding back the warm tears that were threatening to fall, I felt my breathing become shallow and the air felt condensed. Now I was facing Palpatine dead, but the feeling of relief didn't hit me. That feeling I was longing for, for almost three years, wasn't there.

All I sensed was a heaviness in my chest. For all I know, this is what I wanted. I didn't have a plan to escape his ship, so I had to be quick before the imperial army came after me. I was on a mission all by myself, it was something I wanted to do alone.

No one else would be there for me anyway, not even Obi-Wan. But I haven’t been in contact with him ever since Padmé died. That was when he decided he didn't want to go along with my idea, the one that was supposed to make me feel better.

It was two losses at once. Obviously, losing her was the most traumatic event in my life. But then right after that, what happened between me and Obi-Wan after spending years on his side left a hole in my heart.

And it was never healed. For a while, after that, I would sense his grief even from a long distance. But then he shut that down for me. I haven't felt his presence or sensed his emotions in a long time, and it was probably for the best.

I let go of Palpatine's lightsaber and kept a tight grip on mine. I took a few steps back, calculating what route I should take to exit the ship. By now, the army is most likely aware of what happened. The loud sirens went on and I could hear a lot of shuffling from afar.

My boots walked heavily across the room, and for the first time I noticed how my knees were wobbling. "Damn it", I mutter under my breath.

The adrenaline kept my mind balanced, but for some reason my body didn't want to collaborate. I forced myself out of the door, facing the fresh air that roamed through the corridor. There were soldiers in formation already, waiting for something to happen.

I was quick to deviate the blasts from the pistols with my lightsaber, using my metal hand for leverage as well. There were many doors around me, but I didn't risk my chances getting in.

They trapped me when I was getting closer to the hangar. I guess my anger was at its highest level, because I felt myself shoving all of them back with my Force and knocking them down.

I hurried to the first ship I laid my eyes on and hopped on it, turning on the gears. I flew out of there in a matter of seconds.

When all the adrenaline wore out, I started to feel numb and it felt like I was going to pass out. I took deep breaths and tried to stretch my body in order to keep myself awake.

Bringing my hands to my eyes, I noticed how hard they were shaking. Usually I don't feel the sensitivity on the robotic limb, but my flesh fingertips were tingling and then it hit me.

"Shit", I breathed in dread. I pulled the engine on autopilot and hoped for the best.

I was having a panic attack.

I also didn't have R2-D2 to help me fly back to Coruscant. Much to my dislike, I was inside a small ship with the smallest airflow.

I woke up disoriented, my mouth was dry and my head throbbing in pain. I had no idea how I was still roaming around outer space. I looked at my hands, noticing they were steady, as well as my fingertips that weren't numb anymore.

I took a deep breath and managed the engine to finally go back home. I lost track of time there.

I landed on the hangar and rushed to finally see Luke. He was starting to walk and could speak a few words completely already. I couldn't handle the thought of leaving him for more than I intended to.

Arriving at the Jedi Temple, I walked in my dormitory expectantly looking for him. He was sitting on the floor with one of the nursery Droids playing with him, while C-3PO watched out the window.

The three of them noticed my presence and glanced at me. I walked toward the child and pulled him in a tight hug.

"No need to worry anymore, son. Dad is here".

It's been a long way since then. Now I have to be more careful around Luke, and I need to reassure him a lot of things. When I go on missions, he gets worried a lot even though he doesn't feel the anxiety of what could happen.

I stand my ground each time, promising myself I always get back safe and alive. One of these days, I swear I'm going to go into cardiac arrest because of that feeling.

When I got back to my loft after training, I found him nuzzled into my pillow on my bed. R2-D2 scanning the room for further threats. Having a kid these days isn't easy anymore. After what happened four years ago, they kept running after me, looking everywhere.

It took them a while to give up on it, but I always had this feeling in the back of my head that they were always one step ahead, ready to attack. And I never feared for my life, I feared for Luke's. Cal insisted I should recruit him to become a Jedi.

It didn't cross my mind, because I didn't want him to become something I didn't expect him to. I didn't want him to become someone like me. I know how it is inside my head. I want to kill people all the time, the vengeful feeling that doesn't ease. My body is always on alert, I can't trust people anymore.

My conscience never let me step into the dark side, thinking of Luke. If it wasn't for him, I might as well have done that right after I lost Padmé. Wouldn't even have second guessed it for the matter.

In the shower, I pondered about that; like I used to do every night before sleep. Was it really worth it? Was it going to make me feel at peace? It was a hard decision. I leaned my forehead against the tile and inhaled sharply. If only I could see the future, I would've made a decision by now.

The next day I was feeling better, even though the painkillers were masking most of the pain. I dropped my boy off to his classes and headed to the tech room, still in need of having a conversation with (Y/N).

3PO asked me to forget it and let that go, telling me I should be more patient. See, I had an issue with letting things go, and I know it's my biggest flaw. But I just couldn't. I had a few conversations with Cal before and he told me doing therapy would help me a lot. Or even, meet Yoda a few times to help me get through those issues.

But I never did, never thought I should anyway. My stubborn ass wins over my conscience all the time.

I entered the room looking for her and saw her standing in front of an opened drawer. She looked distracted while holding what seemed like a lightsaber grip. My eyes scanned the piece slowly, and then I realized something.

It was Obi-Wan's. My stomach dropped and my throat tightened immediately. It was triggering to think about it, to think about him. To remember him even from the slightest piece of an object. I didn't notice when she turned to face me, her face becoming pale. She still had the piece between her small fingers.

I looked between the grip and her hesitant eyes for a few seconds and cleared my throat. "That's- It is Obi-Wan's?", I heard myself asking in a whisper.

She glanced at it and stared back at me. It was hard to describe her emotions, but it felt like she was probably just as confused. "Y-yes. They found it lying around after he left Coruscant".

I nodded. It couldn't have been long after our last encounter. He left Coruscant right after that, but I wonder whatever happened to the entire lightsaber. I couldn't breathe but didn't want to make it seem evident, so I took a long inhale and murmured "ok".

It took me a few seconds to snap back to reality, watching as she put the grip back in the drawer and closed it. I almost forgot why I was there in the first place.

When I noticed Luke's skyhopper on her table, I rolled my eyes and grimaced. Now there were two things I wanted to talk about with her. I huffed behind her, making her snap her eyes at me.

"What is my son's toy doing on your table? How many times do I have to make myself clear?", I try to be civil and not scare her right off.

(Y/N) glanced between the toy and me, her mouth agape while trying to find words. "They had to leave and asked me to fix it. But I know how you strictly made sure you didn't want me to".

She let her guard up the entire time, making sure she was standing a few feet away from me. I crossed my arms in front of my chest and raised my chin in superiority.

"Good thing, because I don't want you to get a finger near anything related to me or my boy anymore". My voice came out as a snarl, her body language shifted.

I took a step forward and she took a step back. "And while we're at it. Let me tell you something about another thing. This shit that happened to me was your fault".

(Y/N) shook her head and hit her back on the counter behind her. "I'm sorry, I- We did everything we could. The wires were almost molten".

I look down and chuckle in disbelief. You could tell she was beginning to feel scared of me. "No, you see - that's plain bullshit. Because I know how you are all very skilled and when we ask for a deadline, we expect it on time".

I closed the small gap between us, towering over her while my eyes intimidated her. She was reluctant to look back at me, so I made sure she did. I gripped her jawline forcefully and pulled her head up. "Look at me when I talk to you", I rasped.

"You know what happened because of your fucking incompetence. I could've died there, and then what? My son doesn't have a mother, you want him to become an orphan?".

My robotic fingers dug into her cheekbones, she was flinching really hard under my touch.

(Y/N) started to cry and I thought it was pathetic. She has been working around for ages, she should've known I don't have an easy temper at all.

She shut her eyes tightly and whimpered, my fingertips leaving marks on her skin. "I'm really sorry, Master Skywalker. I didn't mean to, I didn't mean to".

I was still towering over her, my forehead barely touching hers when I felt both of her hands grip around my metal wrist. "But you did anyway!".

My breathing was uneven, I felt a sudden headrush.

It was the trigger. Just the thought of Obi-Wan made me feel uneasy.

"Look at me!", It took her by surprise how loud my voice came out and it startled her. She immediately looked me in the eye and I pointed a flesh finger at her. "This is the last time I warn you. Stay the fuck away from me and my son".

Suddenly I heard the door burst and felt Cal's presence. "Hey, Skywalker! What the hell, man?", He sprinted to where we were standing and gripped my arms, pulling me away from her.

I was still staring at her dead. My bloodshot eyes were burning her skin from the eye contact as I watched her move her feet away from me. (Y/N) left the room within seconds.

I looked over Cal and closed my hands into fists. This always feels like someone is testing me. I could just lift my hand and punch him in the face, but I held back the urging.

"What was that?", His scowling tone echoed through the room. He pointed his finger at me, his nose was flaring in anger as well. "Don't ever touch her again or I'll take it to the Council".

Fuck the Council, for God's sake. I'm a fucking Master, not an apprentice anymore. If anything, I could own them if I wanted to.

I watched as he turned on his back and marched out the door, leaving me in a raging state. Next thing I knew, I was flipping a table across the place watching it break into several pieces.

Dude comes in thinking he was a knight in shining armor, what a lame character. I'm pretty sure this close friendship of theirs means something else for him but that didn't interest me anyway.

I let myself out and took my time to simmer down until the meeting happens. This time we were going to see General Grievous and I wasn't very pleased with the idea, but I carried on with it anyway.

When we all sat down on the desk, I shared the news with the others. They still had no idea what the new mission was about.

"General Grievous? That scumbag?", The man from across the table asks in surprise.

Did I stutter?

"Yes. We need to do some agreements that became pending", I nod. This wasn't exactly fun, I have a very strong desire to kill him as well.

Cal was always one giving ideas and usually plans escaping routes. This time he was just sitting in his chair with his arms crossed. His forehead was wrinkly and he had a pissed look.

He wouldn't dare to look at me and I hated him at this moment as well. So I cleared my throat and spoke up again.

"We're gonna need a few people back outside his trade federation cruiser and watch out. I was thinking of bringing Artoo as well" They all seemed to agree with the idea. The red head shuffled in his seat, not saying a word.

I try to disguise the disappointment but I expected this reaction after what happened earlier. I had to push him to the limit, because one way or another I needed him.

"Anything in mind, General Kestis?" I ask loud enough for him to shoot his head up and look at me. Still waiting for a response, I raise an eyebrow.

"No, you're leading the assignment, General Skywalker" He says in a snide tone. "I'm sure you're going to nail it".

Maybe the other men noticed his different demeanor, because I could sense they were looking at each other in complete confusion.

He would never not speak up. He liked to give advice and think through the whole situation, usually we would always have a plan B if needed.

I still wasn't satisfied, so I went through with it anyway. "Are you sure? You always have advice for us".

The others stared at him, watching as Cal stood still in the same position. He shook his head and twitched his lips in denial. I'm gonna fucking choke him.

"Not this time. I guess you boys have brilliant ideas though" He looked back at them and gave them the most fake smile I've ever seen.

Cal is all smiles and hugs, but I know when he's being sarcastic.

I didn't have anything else in mind. I didn't want to push it harder, I know I was losing my temper and it was a waste of time in all honesty.

I decided to ask someone else about strategies and we ended up spending the entire afternoon discussing them. My blood boiling every time I looked at the knight in shining armor watching as he stared blankly at all of us.

My wish this moment was to dismiss him and ask him to take his ass out of his face.

This is going to be a difficult mission and I was dreading the worst already.

I call out to Cal while looking through the papers, the pen still wrapped around my fingers. I feel him interrupting his tracks and freezing on his spot turning on his heels. He doesn’t say a word, waiting for me to speak again.

"Do you have anything to say now they're all gone?" I ask, eyes still focused on the desk.

I hear him sigh and hold his hips with both hands. "No, Skywalker. I already made that sure".

For the first time after a few minutes, I raise my head and give him a sarcastic smile without showing my teeth. He didn't seem fazed at all. I get up from my chair and walk toward him, still holding my pen, my hands behind my back.

"Look, we both know you're a very dedicated man and we also both know you don't wanna fuck this job up" I tilt my head to the side and lower my eyebrows.

He still didn't feel intimidated. That was a good thing, after all. I showed how he could stand up for himself, even though I'm the most insufferable person hanging around.

He gives me a smirk and closes his arms against his chest, raising his chin up. "Ah, when have I ever fucked something up, Master?".

Cal almost never fires back like this, but we weren't on good terms.

He reaches his hand upon my shoulder and gives it a tight squeeze, gripping my shoulder blade. "I can't tell you how much I'm willing to help on this mission. But not because of you. Right now, I wish I could just punch your annoying face".

He doesn't give me time to respond, as he shoves me back in a light push and leaves the room.

I heard the pen between my fingers crack.

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