#but i don't think he weighed the costs that well

[bas-writes]

ꕥ in the heat of spring | confessions feat. geto suguru x reader

content warnings: pwp, reader has a vagina, roleplaying, religion kink/priest fetish, reader is aroused by the feeling of shame, humiliation, fingering, piv sex, creampie word count: 4.3k mood prompt: embarrassed and shy kink prompt: priests/nuns requested by: @honey-deku a/n: i think i'll stop giving myself limits because i don't keep faithful to them anyway LMAO ngl, i'm proud of how this text turned out, even if it's way more stretched than intended. i guess catholic guilt the kink is strong!

Anticipation has your body tense like a string. Your mouth feels dry, too dry to speak, so you take your time lingering by the door, hand clenched on the handle. If you opened it now, you surely would just shriek instead of greeting him with a sultry, playful voice, as you planned. Well, in this state you surely would trip over your stiff legs too. Speak about breaking the character even before the play starts...

You take a deep, shaky breath, trying to grab the reins of your frantic nerves. Excitement isn't your ally now, nor isn't the dampness you already feel in your underwear. Embarrassment and uneasiness are welcomed in this particular scene, but you would rather have them as extras to it, not as the main characters. It was your idea and the fruit of months-long pleading, negotiations, and preparations, after all.

You wouldn't hear the end of it, if he picked up how much it costs you to keep calm and stick to the role.

Exhaling is easier, the flow of air doesn't falter, and your shoulders finally let go of the unnaturally stiff frame. Now or never. If you prolong this meditation, if you don't step over the threshold right here and now, you will ruin all the hard work that brought you here. He will get concerned and suspicious, he will open the door on his own and see you in a complete disarray.

Something at the back of your head prompts you to cross yourself for good luck—and you oblige, taking it as a perfect way to get into character.

You knock, three shy, barely audible taps.

He gives you no time to collect yourself again, his answer is faster than the faint echo disappearing into the hall behind your back, "Please, come in."

You take a step in—and almost slam the door closed again.

You thought you were prepared for that. He might be a false monk but it's a role that's become his second skin. The attire he chose for now is different, and the religion and its symbols might be alien to him—but does a catholic priest fall that far from other priests? He was doomed to be good in this role, maybe too good for your own demise. You considered that and prepared yourself for the consequences.

Yet, Geto looks so authentic that you didn't recognize him at first. He's...too natural, uncanny almost. Black cassock, even if visibly too tight for a man of such huge posture, suits him even better than the layers of robes he wears anywhere outside the privacy of the house. He's nailing that mysterious, casual elegance with ease, humble and insular yet beaming with the charisma of a leader. He's sitting in his chair straight but not stiff, holding the Bible open as if it weighed nothing in his big hands, one of his long fingers serving him as a temporary bookmark. His hair is tied into a tight knot at the back of his head, giving an excellent illusion of keeping it short. Glasses are an unusual yet suiting accessory; lowered almost to the tip of his nose, they add depth and domination to his gaze as he's scanning your figure curiously.

"Yes, my child?" He asks, voice soft yet menacing, like the rustle of prowling cat's feet.

Your saliva is thick like tar and you almost choke trying to swallow it.

"Please, help me, Father," you're barely keeping your voice in check. Sultry be damned, you're fighting to sound at least natural. "I need your advice."

Geto slowly closes the book, sets it aside as he's adjusting his position, leaning more towards you, cutting the mental distance between the two of you. Good, caring shepherd, worried for his little lost lamb, "Come in. Tell me, what's troubling your mind?"

Embarrassment is expected from your role in this moment, so following comes to you much easier than the opening sequence. You close the door and approach closer while still keeping the timid distance. He's silent and patient, just his gaze weights on you, threatening your legs to go limp and wobbly. The fluffy rug you like so much in your shared bedroom is like a trap now, ready at any moment to trip you and throw you to your knees right in front of him.

"I must...have been possessed, Father." You confess, averting your eyes, and clasp your hands at your abdomen, like a good, little, shy student.

Geto's eyebrows cock up in a perfectly played surprise. He rubs his chin in thought as he studies your expression intently, "And why is that? What brought you to this conclusion?"

Heat spreading all over your face in a not-so-feigned abashment, you reel the story off: everything you've come up together for this night. There are dreams, of lust and dark desires you dread to name. They come to you every night and turn your thoughts away from your prayers. The more religiously you try to praise the Lord, the stronger and trickier they get once you lie down. There's no escape for a poor, little lamb like you; soothing darkness brings temptation, avoiding rest has your mind more prone to succumbing to them.

Geto listens, still hidden under the cover of an exemplary priest. Resting chin in his palm, he asks and investigates, presses you whenever you stutter, and gives you the little needle when you try to stray around the topic to sound less sinful. He would be such an excellent preacher if he wasn't a wolf, prowling patiently at your tracks and waiting for your neck to arch nicely for his fangs. And he does so with sugar-coated words and a voice so sweet that you sip from his lips like parched, unaware of the trap he leads you into—while knowing well where and how this conversation will lead.

His power is terrifying, you know it better than anyone, and you squeeze your thighs tighter as you hunch under his gaze, trying to hide what's obvious and avoid what's unrelenting.

"When did those dreams start?" The question finally appears and Geto's eyes narrow at your not-so-played-anymore flinch. "Do you know what could have caused them?"

You avert your eyes, the wave of shame and arousal washing over you and pearling sweat at your temples.

"There's nothing to be shy about, my child." He leans to the back of the chair, his posture open and welcoming, so safe. "I only want to help."

This part of play calls for silence—but you wouldn't find any words in you even if you were scripted to speak. You bite on lips and shift your weight from one leg to another, uncomfortable when stripped so bluffly. You're losing control—you doubt if you even had it in the first place—and the less confident you feel around him, the softer and wobblier your knees are. You're tempted to fall to them, just to relieve yourself of this unbearable tension, to hide the arousal that runs dead even with embarrassment.

Shame is such a delicious drug.

"I won't be able to help you, if you hide something from me." Geto's soft, caring smile sends cold shivers down your spine. He beckons you closer, arms wide open to welcome you in his proximity. "Come here, child, and speak into my ear, if you fear to confess aloud."

You fear more to trip as soon as you move—but you, obedient like a sacrificial lamb, approach closer, and let him lay his hands at your waist. They're soft and warm—but leave you no way to run as they pull you close, right into his lap. You're stiff and hesitant, craving to nuzzle close to his broad chest, to let those strong arms engulf you and shield you from everything unholy—but you know there's nothing more unholy than what you're doing right now.

"Speak, my child." He commands and grabs your chin oh so gently when you try to turn away. "Don't be afraid. Our lord is full of grace and mercy."

"It started—" You stutter and clean your throat, painfully dry with anticipation. "—started after I was... Touching myself."

One of his hands strays from your middle to your hip, then to your thigh, "How did you touch yourself? Where exactly?"

Your heartbeat is thudding in your ears, swallowing every sound but its racing rhythm. It has your head spinning, your vision blurry—yet you're unable to escape his piercing gaze, unable to avert your eyes again. Your breath is shallow, and you don't dare to take a deeper one in; his smell is different, heavier, rich of incense and anointing oil, as if he left Lord's altar right before he agreed to listen to your shameful confessions. If you caved in and inhaled it, it would drug you, would strip you of the remains of self-control and dignity. It's tempting to turn into a trusting, stupid lamb entirely, but in the midst of the need twisting your brain you decide it's not something you want to give him...yet.

As you ponder over the next line—or rather: desperately fight for the reins to remain in your hands—his hand smoothly wanders towards the inner side of your thigh. You clench your legs together, but it still finds a way to sneak in between, right at the core of your embarrassment.

Can he already feel how wet you are for him? His fingers press tighter and rub at your sex through the pants—and you yelp through clenched teeth. It's not a loud sound, you almost managed to drown it out, but in such a silent room—silent like a confessional—it has the power of a scream.

"It was here, wasn't it?" Geto whispers into your ear, keeping you tight and close with the other arm still around your waist. His fingers start to move, flowingly, along the line of your slit, and the more you clench your legs and squirm, the more prominent the pressure becomes. "You invited the lustful spirit to the most sacred part of your body."

You want to admit, lie, and plead for mercy at the same time, so you only squeal and put all might you still possess into closing your legs. They open pathetically a second later, as soon as the tip of his hot tongue teases your ear.

"Do you want me to get rid of it?" He presses soft, barely palpable, kisses to your jaw and neck. "With the power of The Almighty I may clean your soul and bring peace to your mind."

You clench your thighs again, this time trying to trap his slowly withdrawing hand and steal some friction. Geto pulls it out with ease and faint yet mean smirk on his face. He has you in his trap whole now and he has no itch for satisfying your whims until you do as he pleases—and you know he's not going to make it easy for you. Tormenting his prey is his favorite part of the hunt. His eyes darken just at the thought; they promise tonight the shearing blade won't stop at the wool.

"I need your voice, child." He cups your chin into his palm and guides you to look straight at him. "Speak."

"Please." You barely recognize the sound squeezing through your throat now as your voice. "Help me, Father Geto."

"I shall, then."

You're gently pushed off his lap and guided to sit at the edge of bed instead. For the first time since what feels like forever now you take a deeper breath, not until the dull ache in your lungs eased you realize how badly you needed it. You could use some relaxation for your muscles too, but you can't bring yourself to move, even your eyes are set exactly in the same place: looking straight at Geto as he's taking his cassock off. It's a ritual on its own, each little button is given its fair share of special attention from fingers that just a moment ago caressed your sex. Underneath there's another barrier of black clothes: plain shirt and jeans, both hugging his well-sculpted body so tight that they seem to be one move away from tearing. Even so, he moves around with grace, each move calculated to keep you right on the edge but not bored or frustrated.

Finally, the cassock is folded and put away, the Bible is closed, the light limited to the small lamp on the bed stand. Geto returns to his chair, hand prompted on palm as he stares at you intently, like a bird of prey.

"Strip, my child." He whispers more than just says and yet, you jerk in place as if he shouted at you.

Your hands get into each other's way even if you're not in a hurry. You know you're going to get scolded, softly, if you're going to be sloppy, it doesn't make you any less clumsy, though. You wish you could say it's a part of your role, but you really can't control your moves as much as you would like to. There's something in his eyes that makes you behave in a reprimanding-worth way. He always gets what he wants—and if he wants to punish you, sooner or later you will succumb into misbehavior.

Good lambs always listen to their shepherd.

He doesn't pay much attention to clumsiness and disarray, though. Instead, his eyes take in the view of your body, from your fluttering lips, down your chest and your nipples, perky with anticipation, to your legs you're struggling to free from the pants. When you finally kick them off and return to the proper and tense sitting position, he furrows his brow, showing a negative reaction for the first time tonight.

"I thought I told you to strip?"

You flick your gaze down, to underwear still covering what it should, and you hook thumbs under the elastic band, ready to pull everything down...but you linger, true to words you're saying next, "It's embarrassing."

Geto clicks his tongue, displeased, and gets up, in two steps closing the distance and looking down at you, now. Hand cupping your face is rougher this time as he tilts your head back. Mewl dies in your throat when your eyes meet—and you find no mercy nor warmth in his.

"Was it embarrassing too when you shamelessly spread your legs for the demon to penetrate your body? If you wish to wash your disgusting sins away, I repeat: strip."

Not daring to look away, you clumsily roll your underwear down to your ankles.

"Now, that's a good little lamb."

His hold eases and he caresses your cheek now, smiling down at you in a way that has cold shivers running down your spine.

Next, he wants you to climb to the head of the bed and you follow, feeling no safer on the familiar softness. You lie down against the pillows as instructed and bend legs in knees. You hesitate when asked to spread them as wide as you can, genuine embarrassment winning over you anew.

"Don't linger, my child," Geto narrows his eyes, a warning he might snap again, if you don't listen. "Show me the place you besmeared."

Figuring closing eyes may help you, you do so and follow his wish to the final step. Air feels extra cold against your exposed cunt—intoxicating contrast to your hot juices dripping down your labia and ass. For the longest time nothing happens, no word is said, until eventually the bed creaks and you feel Geto scooting closer to you. Your body is tense like a string, shaking from anticipation, but you don't dare to sneak a peek at him and whatever he's doing. You fear you may fall apart if you see his expression as he's appraising your sex and the influence your sin had on it.

"What were you thinking about when you were touching yourself?" He says after a painfully stretched moment. He's closer than you estimated from the way the mattress dipped by your side, probably sitting or kneeling right between your legs.

"I—" You lick your lips, desperately trying to squeeze any moisture, but nerves parched everything to crisp. If he's going to make you scream tonight, you can say goodbye to your voice for the next day if not longer. "Can't remember details. But—"

"But?"

There's impatience in his voice and as much as you're tempted to see what is Geto going to do if you test his limits, this is not on the menu for this scene—so you push the bashfulness away as much as you can and follow the scenario, "I was thinking about you, Father Geto."

He must have been expecting you to resist for longer—the silence on his side is too long to be just played. But there's no further trace of surprise, when he speaks, his voice is as calm as it can be, given the circumstances of the play. "You're pulling me into this sin with you, child."

The bed creaks, he's scooting closer, his body bears down on your knees now. His hand finds its way to your sex again, this time touching it without any barrier in between you two. It takes everything from you to not meet him half-way; you're frozen in place like a terrified, filled with shame lamb should when he's slowly caressing your slit, then tracing at the rim of your hole. You're so wet he could slide anything he wanted in just like that, no preparations needed, but he's treating you as carefully as if you were a virgin offered to him on a holy altar. 

This tenderness, the quiescence he enforced with his demeanor, drives you crazy.

"You claim you can't remember details..." Geto muses, his breath ghosting over your cunt as he starts to slide a single finger in. "But those must have been many, many thoughts. Your body is begging for my blessings."

The process repeats: he teases you with one digit only until you're on the verge of giving in. He knows well you need much more than this silly play but he's not going to give it to you even if you beg, not until he is satisfied with the mess you're becoming. Second, then third finger in, he keeps heating you up but straying away from anything that could pull you closer to the sweet release. You're not a lamb anymore, just a plaything, putty in his hands, too ashamed to beg for it, too scared to ask for more at the face of rejection and even longer torture. Here and there he changes the angle to brush at your walls exactly how you like it—but as soon as you mewl or buck your hips, mercy is denied and he clicks his tongue, scolding you for being an impatient child.

But even Geto can find some mercy in him. Right as you think you're going to lose your mind if he keeps stretching you for nothing, he pulls his fingers out and kisses your clit. This short, almost affectionate touch has you thrashing on the sheets; you crave that release so bad it hurts, hurts for real, you can accumulate only as much pent-up desire, and you're about to burst, not in a way you need it.

He lets you calm your breathing and even your senses before he orders you to open your eyes—for you to see him licking his fingers clean of your juices.

"You taste so sweet, my child." Immense pleasure ruins his collected expression just for a second, when he sucks the last drops of you from his fingertips. "Almost as if there was no sin in you..."

A click of a belt, a rustle of zipper and clothes slipped out of the way, and Geto is close to you again, one hand keeping one of your legs nice and open, the other guiding his dick to brush against the wet mess he's turned your pussy into. You both groan when his sensitive tip meets your clit, you: nudged towards the edge again, him: at the limit of his self-control. He lets go of your leg to throw his glasses and clergy collar away, then loosens his shirt; dark hair on his chest pours out of the gap and you have to fight the urge to run your fingers through it. The flick of your eyes is caught and met with a nod of approval, but you're so desperate to have him finally fuck you that you don't want to risk another delay, for any reason.

"I'm going to cleanse your soul," Geto moans more than says, almost ruining the character on his side, but you couldn't care less now, when finally feeling the pressure at your hole. He slides the tip in, slowly, but not in the same, teasing way. It's a deliberate act of immense self-control; if not for the fog in your eyes and your mewls still calling him a "Father", he would be already fucking you stupid, your ankles hooked on his shoulders. He puts it in only as much to let you feel it, to have your cunt finally spasm around what you craved the most. And instead of thrusting into you, he touches your clit again, gently at first, then with precise, circular moves that have your eyes roll back in no time.

After being played with for so long, from the strict confession to his fingers spreading you open, you don't need much, and soon you're creaming over his cock, over and over, as if all this pent-up tension needed a few orgasms before it would be gone. It could be indeed a few of them or just one big and mercilessly prolonged as Geto is still rubbing your clit, deaf to your cries and blind to your hands clawing at his shoulders.

The touch ceases as sharply as it started but you're not even fully back from your high when it returns, together with his dick slamming full into you all at once. You swallow and squeeze him tight, your exhausted, oversensitive body arching and squirming. He uses his whole weight to pin it down into submission, fucking you through the last spasms of your orgasm and more, more than you can handle—and what you take regardless, your throat almost worn of cries of his name.

You beg him to cum, you beg him to stop right to beg him to fuck you harder shortly after, you beg to be destroyed—never mind your "sin", you want to burn whole and take him with you.

You beg—but all that breaks out of your lips are moans.

Even Geto has his limits and eventually his hips start to stutter before he buries himself whole in you, his pubes tickling your tortured clit, as he releases his load. He thrusts a few more times, fucking it deeper, and finally ceases, satisfied, his heavy, hot body pressing you flat into the bed.

It's stifling, uncomfortable even with his clothes grazing your naked body, but he soon lifts himself on straight arms, then sits on heels while pulling your hips closer; he's still in you but now you can breathe as deep as you want and slowly regain control over your senses and body. You keep silent, partially too lazy to find words, partially unsure how you should act now. You haven't discussed that part in detail, and the bliss has pushed you out of your character: just a little but enough to block any attempt of improvisation. Geto's content expression is not much of help either; after a short consideration you abandon the attempt of deciphering him, instead taking as much as you can from this calm moment, in case he's keen to torturing you more soon.

Geto just rocks his hips one more time before pulling out of you and setting your limp legs wide apart. Pleased with himself, he looks at your messy cunt and gently traces your slit, so gently you, despite your nerves fried to your limits, barely can feel it. With a hum of agreement on your side, he continues and slides two fingers into you, squeezing some of his cum until it flows down to his knuckles.

"Praise the Lord for how well-bred his sheep are." He says with a smug smile, and it finally earns him a reaction. With an embarrassed—or rather: disconcerted—groan you grab the nearest pillow and smack him over the head.

He lets you, even chuckles a little when you take an aim for a second one.

"What's up with those corny jokes, out of sudden?" You huff when the pillow is taken away from you and thrown out of your reach.

Geto tucks his dick back into his pants, then takes the shirt off and lets his hair down. He lies by your side, head prompted on palm, free hand reaching to wipe sweat off your forehead, "Would a corny love confession from priest to his lamb be better?"

You roll to your side with a spent sigh, strong arm soon pulling you close, face into his chest, "Only if you aimed to dissolve me with embarrassment."

His expression is, as it often is with Geto, hard to read, but he settles on a genuine smile and a soft kiss pressed to the crown of your head, "Is my love such a struggle to you, my lamb?"

"Maybe a little." His natural, familiar, scent is breaking through the cologne he used for tonight, so you bask in it, pressing your nose to him as close as you can without suffocating yourself. "But, as you saw, I really like when you make me struggle."

thank you so much for reading ❤ i'll be really happy, if you reblog it and/or leave some feedback! you can read more of my jjk fics here.

tag list: @lale-txt @mirkaaaluv @ohnococo @clumsyraccoon

#jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen x you #geto suguru x reader #geto x reader #jjk suguru x reader #geto suguru x you #jjk suguru x you #geto x you #bas writes #sinful #in the heat of spring #afab reader

[transprincecaspian]

Cas I am obsessed with the archdemon situation in your worldstate out here. The selfishness undoubtedly seen as some national-level people's heroism at a personal level without accounting for Mahanon or Loghain's warden status, the anger after death, the lack of room for closure for anyone involved including Loghain??? Steel chairing into the position of martyr under their noses. And yes Mahanon comes out of it alive but seething??? Chewing on it 👀

Talking about Thedas having a print news cycle earlier, too, can you imagine the spins and public takes on that whole situation? Delicious.

LAST OF THEIRIN BLOODLINE: SACRIFICED

Mahanon stared down at the water-logged scrap of parchment trapped underneath his boot. 'Sacrificed' was hardly a new claim. He'd seen several circulating about Alistair in the weeks following his death. Warden. Hero. Prince. You name it, the people were happy to affix it to the dead man like the crown he had so long denied. It made his blood boil.

Once the sun had set, the rain had followed suit. No longer a torrential downpour, it was only a misty drizzle that chilled the back of Mahanon's neck as he stalked through the city streets to the memorial for the fallen warden. It was dark and late enough now that no mourners or zealots were crowding the site with their tears and their flowers. That was good; it meant that Mahanon could say his piece alone.

He sat on the edge of the lead coffin and took a long sip of his drink. The cheap alcohol burned all the way down his throat, but it was nothing compared to the reaver's blood running through his veins. Since the death of the Archdemon, his blood had been burning him from the inside out. He couldn't have been so lucky to be like poor Andraste, able to quench that fire on the end of a blade.

"You're a bastard," Mahanon said quietly. His mumbling slowly turned into laughter. "A royal fucking bastard! You just couldn't stand it that I called you out for what you were. You selfish prick!" He threw the bottle down and smashed it. Shards skittered across the wet ground, reflecting his own face back up at him. "You just had to get back at me, didn't you? You couldn't live with the consequences of your actions, could you? Not even at the very last."

He wasn't sure how long he sat there and seethed, spitting curses on the dead man's name. Long enough that he'd given up sitting and drinking and taken to pacing around the coffin, as if he could shout at it loud enough and long enough that the man inside might rise back up to tell him off. He was there long enough that, soon, he felt a hand on his shoulder that pulled him to a stop.

"We should go," said Loghain, unsure if he should be grateful that he was spared. He knew that Mahanon's intention was to place him in the path of the Archdemon, and he had been willing to take that fate upon himself. Instead, Maric's remaining son had died for them both.

They were all a bit selfish.

UHHHH sorry lex you possessed me but ummm yeah this is the vibe. this is the vibe, right???

#im so sorry about this #i actually wanted to elaborate more on the meta #but my brain said no #write it instead #make everyone hurt #so here it is lol this is my worldstate ramble #this is how it ends #nobody is happy #least of all mahanon #least of all loghain #mahanon declared that he would be selfish and remain alive #but i don't think he weighed the costs that well #or maybe he did #and he can't live with his opinion of alistair being changed #mahanon tabris #born again in blood #baib #baib meta #sorry lex #lol #casposting #cas writes #alistair theirin #loghain mac tir

[midnightwriter21]

jjk oneshots: Just Relax (satoru x reader)

characters: satoru gojo x reader

warnings: fluff, comfort

an: doing gojo’s skincare to help him relax

SATORU GOJO

A sigh escapes Satoru’s mouth as he shuts the front door behind him. Walking stiffly to the kitchen he finds his girlfriend nursing a cup of coffee.

“I’m home,” he announces.

“Hey,” y/n smiles reassuringly at Satoru, a genuine expression of comfort. "You look stressed," she notes. But she's not judging him. Just observing.

Satoru looks back at her and nods, trying to control his breathing. There's something about her. Something about her presence that just makes him feel at ease. He doesn’t have to keep up the act around her. "I am."

"Why? What's stressing you out?" y/n asks. Her voice is soothing. Satoru can't explain it, but she just has this way of making him feel calm.

He shakes his head, trying to gather his thoughts. "It's...nothing. I'm fine." But he's not. And she can see right through him.

y/n says, “It’s the higher ups… isn’t it?”

Satoru is taken aback by how spot on she is. He nods cautiously, a glimmer of relief washing over him. "Yeah...that's exactly what it is." He sighs. "I don't know how much longer I can handle it before I snap. The pressure. The stress. The annoyance. They’re always scheming. It's constant. "

y/n frowns, wishing she could give those old geezers a piece of her mind. Deciding to change the subject, she puts her coffee cup down, grabs Satoru’s hand, and leads him to the bedroom.

Pointing to the bed she says, “Lay down.”

Raising an eyebrow at her with a cheeky smirk, he says, “Is this going where I think it’s going?”

“No.” She replies flatly, “Now lay down.”

"Fine." Satoru does as he's told, lying down on the bed and looking up at her with a look of mild amusement. He's not sure what she's up to, but he's curious.

Once he’s comfortable y/n walks to the bathroom and begins gathering her favorite products before walking back to the bed and settling herself down near Satoru’s head.

Satoru watches her with a puzzled expression on his face. "What are you doing, sugar?" he asks, his voice still dripping with that teasing edge from before.

"Shh," she replies. "Just trust me and try to relax."

She pushes his hair back with a silly headband, makes him close his eyes, and gets to work. Lathering face wash on his skin, wiping it with a wet towel, moving to moisturizer, and so on.

He lies back on the bed, letting her work her magic. His eyelids feel heavy, the soothing touch of her hands making him feel more relaxed than he has in a long time.

"I know you're stressed," she begins, her voice hushed and soft. "This is to help you relax. Try to clear your head. To help relieve some of the pressure you're under.”

“I know you’re the strongest,” she continues, “but there’s nothing wrong with having a little help or taking a break every once in a while…”

“You’re helping me.” Satoru interrupts, “right now. This is helping me. I don’t think you realize how vital moments like this are to me. Moments with you.”

Lily smiles playfully, booping his nose, “Shut up, this is about you right now. Stop being sappy and relax.”

He chuckles, appreciating her playfulness and the way it helps him to let down his guard.

As she continues her work, he takes a deep breath and starts to really let go of all the stress and tension that’s been weighing him down lately.

"I trust you," he says quietly as he exhales, eyes still closed and his breathing becoming even deeper and slower.

“I’d hope so, otherwise I don’t think this relationship would work very well,” she jokes.

"True." He smirks at that and he opens one eye slightly, just enough to glance down at her with a teasing expression on his face. "By the way, how much does this skin care routine cost?" He asks with a sly grin.

She returns his grin, “I don’t know… you should check your credit card records.”

He raises an eyebrow, a grin spreading across his face. "I'll be sure to do that later," he says. "And if I see it's ridiculously expensive? What then?"

“It wouldn’t matter,” she shrugs, “you’re rich anyways. Probably didn’t even leave a dent in your bank account.”

"Fair point," he says with another grin. "But for argument's sake, what if it did? What if I suddenly can't afford your lavish lifestyle? What would you do then?"

y/n snorts, “Oh I guess we would have to find a cardboard box big enough to fit the two of us and live on the street.”

Satoru chuckles softly, “That would be just tragic. The strongest sorcerer and his beautiful girlfriend living in a box,” he yawns, “You wouldn’t go find another dashingly handsome sorcerer to be with? What about Nanami? I heard his pockets are pretty deep.”

y/n laughs, “Definitely not. I think Nanami would slam the door in my face before I even got a word out.”

Satoru replies sleepily, “Nanami…. would never.”

“You’re right he wouldn’t. He associates me with you though so I’m not sure he’d let me stay for very long…” She trails off.

For a few moments it’s quiet until y/n breaks the silence, “Hey Satoru?”

He doesn’t respond and soft snores fill the room.

She giggles quietly, “… I love you.”

Satoru smiles at her words, even in his sleep.

#jjk #jjk oneshot #jjk fluff #jjk x reader #jjk gojo #jjk fanfic #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen gojo #jujutsu kaisen gojo satoru #jujutsu kaisen satoru #jujustu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu gojo #jujustsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu satoru #satoru gojo x reader #jujutsu kaisen satoru gojo #gojo satoru x reader #satoru x reader #gojo satoru #gojo x reader #gojou satoru x reader #satoru gojo #gojo x y/n #jujutsu kaisen fluff #gojo satoru fluff #jjk gojo satoru #jjk satoru gojo #jjk satoru #satoru gojo fluff

[ddejavvu]

Hello my sweet lovely Mei <33 how was your day? (If it’s the morning for you, have a good day!!)

This is a request for Bradley Bradshaw x reader where the reader HATES crying in front of other people. Avoids it at all cost. Would leave without a word to hide in another room just so no one saw her cry, even if they knew she was. Even if Bradley tells her multiple times she can cry in front of him she doesn’t. She knows he loves her and wouldn’t judge her but it just makes her uncomfortable. I don’t know if that’s enough for a blurb. If it’s not I apologize I can give a more solid outline :)) I’m totally not projecting!! Just asking for a friend…

The sound of footsteps at the door only make your sobs worse, even though it's the last thing you need now that you're going to have a spectator.

"No, Bradley, no!" You call, hand flying for the doorhandle, but it doesn't twist once you've got it in your grip, it stays completely untouched on the other end.

"I'm not coming in," Bradley keeps his voice soothing and even- a far cry from your wobbly wail, "I'm just sitting down outside the door."

"Why?" You blubber, a hand thrown over your mouth, "You'll- you'll hurt your back, or your butt, or something."

"Stop thinking about my butt, you perv," He accuses, and dammit, it loosens your chest slightly, "My rump will be just fine."

"I don't want you here," You murmur, guilt weighing heavy on your chest even as you say it, "Bradley, I- you can't see me, you know that."

"I do know that. I told you I wasn't coming in," He reminds you, his voice now coming from mid-way down the door's height; he really is sitting on the floor. "I just want to sit here with you. Is that okay?"

You rub at your nose, conscious of the way you probably should be using a tissue, but too spent to care. You'll wash your hands later, when the world seems like it will continue spinning.

"I can't cry in front of people," You warn him, though it's something you've drilled into him since the day you'd met, "The tears just- won't come. I won't let them. I'll force them back, I'll- I'll suck them back into my eyes, Brad, I can't."

"Don't do that..." He bargains from outside the door, "That sounds painful. Don't suck your tears back up."

"I-" You loathe the snort that escapes you, a merry reprieve from your soul-shattering sobs, "I can't do it, Bradley."

"Okay, but are you not crying right now because I'm here, or are you laughing right now because I'm here?" You mull over his words, then he adds, "You can't, or you're not?"

A tear slides down your cheek, and a thousand more take its place behind the rim of your eyes. Evidently, it's not can't.

"I'm not," You warble, "Or- well, I am now. But I wasn't before. Because- because you're making your butt all flat outside the door and telling me not to vacuum my tears back into my eyes and damn you, Bradley, I wanted to cry."

"Then do it." He instructs, and you can picture his shoulders rising and falling in a lazy shrug, "I'm not in there with you; I can't see you. You could be faking it for all I know. I can't see you honey, if you need to cry, you can cry."

He sticks his pinky finger beneath the doorframe, and when you lay your own overtop, your tears are evaded by tenderness, not paralysis.

#bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw x you #bradley bradshaw imagine #bradley bradshaw oneshot #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #bradley bradshaw x reader fanfiction #bradley bradshaw blurb #bradley bradshaw drabble #rooster x reader #rooster imagine #rooster x you #rooster oneshot #rooster blurb #rooster drabble #rooster fanfiction #rooster x reader fanfiction #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw x you #bradley rooster bradshaw fanfiction #bradley rooster bradshaw imagine #bradley rooster bradshaw oneshot #rooster fluff #bradley bradshaw fluff

[stylesispunk]

"I couldn't want you anymore" part 5

Artist! Joel Miller x Florist! Reader

series masterlist | previous chapter | next

summary: when Sarah's mom comes back into Joel's life to fight for their past relationship, Joel needs to convince her he is in a happy relationship with the florist next to his gallery in order to make her go away. The problem is, that he and the florist can't stand each other's guts or that it's what he thinks.

warning: age gap (Joel is 36 and reader is 28). Remember that "Bee" is reader's nickname, fluff, some feelings are being confessed (again), angst (poor reader) mentions of an accident, and conflicted emotions.

a/n: This one is more than 6k. I don't love this one as the last one, but I wanted to deliver this one to you. Sorry for the drama during this chapter, I was PMSing haha. Reblogs and comments are always appreciated, please share your thoughts with me, I love reading your comments and send ne any ask if you want ❤️ Sorry for any grammar mistake.💌 p.s the first line is a reference to all too well 😭

masterlist

After 3 long months in the grave. The flowers died of thirst. The place that once seemed full of life, now it was an empty street of broken pieces left behind by your ghost, and for Joel, passing by your shop every day seemed to be the hardest task of his life.

As time passed by, the cobblestones outside your shop remained empty, echoing the silence of what once was the first page of you and him. Joel couldn’t help but wonder how he had let something as precious as that slipped through his fingers, a regret that would haunt him for a long time to come. 

Meanwhile, you found yourself far away from the streets of that life. Still in town, but trying to leave behind any trace of him and the painful memories of the night Joel broke your heart.

Your place now was next to Connell. After your castle crumbled, he was there, and before life separated the both of you, he fit in your life. He built the fire to kept you warm after the storm that left you stranded, and both of you had made the decision to give your love story a second chance. This time, taking tiny steps to build a steady castle. After all, he acted like a prince, taking you out on dates, and expressing his affection through gestures that left you feeling unworthy of his kindness. 

 You had become someone you weren’t. The one with the knife, a liar.

And these few weeks leading up to your new life in London were fulfilled by different emotions. You were busy taking care of some things, closing down your flower shop, and making arrangements for your upcoming journey. It was a bittersweet time filled with farewells to old friends, packing up your life, and starting to write the pages of your new book.  

But you still thought of Joel, the memories of him were hard to erase. He remained a lingering presence in your thoughts. You could still see you both lost in those memories, but it was never real. You shared something that didn’t work beyond words and fake actions for the world to see. And you just hated your persistent temptation to ask what would be different if you had never let those three words escaped from your lips. You may still have moments together, he may still have been part of you, but at what cost?

During the course of these three months, Lily and Tommy got together. The news left you speechless at the beginning. You were happy for them even when it was unexpected. You never saw the signs or you were just mesmerized by the other Miller to even notice Tommy was making his way through your best friend’s heart. Now, they were building their own love story, creating a heartwarming contrast to your journey. Their relationship served as a reminder that love could be found in different places. 

But for you, moving on wasn’t easy. The pain of a broken heart, mixed with the sweet memories you were leaving behind alongside the life you once knew, weighed heavily on your mind. And the biggest fear heightening over your shoulders was the intense fear of hurting Connell. 

Connell, the one thing you did right in your life. The man you knew you wanted to marry once you met him, who had always treated you right. The thought of causing him to regret you because of pain was almost unbearable.

You knew he deserved nothing but happiness, and you wondered if your relationship with Joel had permanently damaged your capacity to truly commit to and reciprocate his love.

Of course, you loved him, but you just weren’t in love with him.

And you found yourself almost every night deeply sighing in the middle of the night, wondering if Joel was still up thinking about you the same way you still thought about him. And you bet he thought you still hated him, even when you had spent the last three months thinking about the minimal chance of him coming back to you, asking for your forgiveness, and stopping you from going to another country to start a new life. 

But after three months, he had gone radio silent, and you were dreaming about him touching your face, asking if you wanted to try it for real this time.

And you despise yourself for it.

You had Connell giving you all his love, and you were becoming a knife ripping his heart.

Connell had been the one in charge of helping you to sell your shop, as you didn’t want to spend the time in that place and accidentally running into Joel.

Saying goodbye to the place you made so many memories was hitting hard on you, and you could see the love and concern in Connell’s eyes as he told he had managed the sale. Nevertheless, he spared you from details of the buyer’s identity and only walked straight to your room without uttering more words. He carried the weight of this decision on your behalf.

the next day, when he was supposed to go to the shop and give the new owner the keys of your now ex-flower shop. An emergency call prevented him from going, so he told you to go instead. 

And you couldn’t lie, even when you had decided to distance yourself from your shop and everything associated with your past, the thought of saying a final goodbye in person didn’t seem like a bad idea. You wonder about the new owner's identity, the person who would now hold the keys to a place that had been a special of your life. 

As you stood outside the shop, you took a deep breath to steady your trembling hands, so you stepped inside. The familiar scent of what was left of the flowers that once adorned the place, and the soft glow of sunlight streaming through the windows, made your heart break at the thought of leaving. 

But in the end, your eyes fell upon the last person you expected to see, Joel. He seemed just as taken aback as you were. 

“Bee,” he said, softly,  making himself believe you were in front of him.

Your name seemed foreign slipping through his lips, the same ones brushing over your skin not long. 

You even feared speaking and risking another goodbye.

For a moment, time stopped, as if the world outside these walls didn’t exist. Your heart pounded in your chest.

Your heart raced as your eyes locked onto his, and a mix of emotions surged within you.

"Joel," you finally managed to say, your voice carrying surprise. His presence stirred memories, both beautiful and painful, and it was hard for you to face them. "What are you doing here?"

Joel hesitated, his eyes searching yours for a sign of understanding. "I… Connell sold your shop to Tommy” he said. 

Your heart constricted at the mention of Connell selling the shop to Tommy. You knew there was more behind that statement. You had gotten to know Joel to know he was lying through his teeth right now, but you had rather ignore that feeling settling in your heart. 

He cleared his throat. “I didn’t know you’d be here.” 

"Tommy bought the shop?" you asked, trying to wrap your head around the situation.

Joel nodded, his gaze never leaving yours. "Yes, he did. He thought it would be nice since you love this place so much.”

That stirred a mix of emotions within you, but you pushed them aside for the moment. “And why are you here instead?

“He couldn’t make it and I thought Connell was coming” Joel answered, "But it’s nice to see you.”

The tension in the room was palpable, and the weight of unspoken words hung heavily in the air between you and Joel. The past few weeks, becoming in three months , had left their mark, and you weren't sure how to navigate life with those permanent wounds. 

Joel's presence, felt so strange to you now. The familiarity of his face, his voice, and the way he looked at you brought back a flood of memories of the stolen kisses you found yourself missing so much. 

“When are you leaving?” He asked, knowing that this would be the last time he was going to be able to have you in front of him. 

“In a week” you answered shortly. 

Joel's heart sank at the confirmation. He had everything in his hands to prevent the end of your story, but he didn’t want to stop you from finding peace and happiness in the arms of a man who truly deserved you in every way. You had chosen to start a new chapter in London with Connell, and he was the character from a chapter you were leaving behind.

He looked at you, searching for something in your eyes, a glimpse of the love you told him you felt for him. But it was hard to read your emotions. You felt a foreigner before his eyes. 

"I see," he replied, trying to hide the pain in his voice.

The room felt heavy with unsaid words and unfinished written pages. You both had left things unsaid, Joel especially, and the future was uncertain. You couldn't help but feel the pull of what once was, even as you tried to move forward with your life.  

Joel realized he had to make his peace with your decision. He had been given a chance to say those three words, three months ago, and he had to accept that he had ruined his opportunity with you. Your upcoming goodbye was a reminder that time was running out for him to say what needed to be said.

"Bee, I won't hold you back," he said, his voice gentle. "But before you go, there's something I need to tell you."

Your gaze met his, and you could see the sincerity in his eyes. There was a vulnerability in him that you had rarely seen. Joel's next words would be crucial and may be a turning point for both of you.

As Joel was on the edge of saying something, the door chimed softly as it opened.

It was Connell. His entrance created an unexpected interruption, and the atmosphere grew tense.

You shared a brief glance with Joel, and the weight of the unspoken words lingered heavily.

Joel addressed Connell first; his voice laced with an attempt to save you from any problem. "We were just saying goodbye.”

Connell acknowledged this with a nod but couldn't shake the feeling that he had walked into something else.  

“I thought you were busy,” you said to Connell, walking to his side.

“I finished earlier” he gave you a small smiled as he touched one of your arms “You can wait for me outside” he told you, trying to give you reassurance.

You nodded, glancing one last time at Joel, the tension remained inside the room, and the words Joel had been on the verge of sharing with you were left hanging in the air.

And you finally exited the room, saying your last goodbye to Joel without uttering a word. 

Once you left the shop, Connell spoke first, his voice carrying a serious tone "Joel, I know you want her to forgive you, but I want you to know that she's important to me and I love her."

Joel nodded, understanding the weight of Connell's words. "I know, Connell. And you've been good to her. I've seen that."

Connell hesitated, searching Joel's eyes for sincerity. "She deserves to be happy.” 

Joel's gaze was unwavering as he replied, "I know she does. And if that means she's happier with you, then I won't stand in the way."

Connell kept silence for a moment. “You didn’t tell her, did you?”

Joel shook his head.

“Thank you. She would have killed me if she knew I sold the shop to you”, Connell said, with a tint of humor in his tone. 

Joel managed a small smile at Connell's comment. It was an attempt to lighten the atmosphere even though the underlying tension remained. "I wouldn't have wanted to give her another reason to be mad at me."

Connell nodded in understanding. "I appreciate that, Joel. I just want her to have a fresh start, free from all this mess”

Joel's gaze turned thoughtful. "I want that too, Connell. She deserves to move on and be happy."

Connell looked at Joel for a moment. “You made her happy too. Don’t blame yourself too hard, Joel” 

Joel met Connell's gaze, gratitude and sadness intertwined in his eyes. "Thank you, Connell. It means a lot to hear that from you."

The two men shared a silent moment, the weight of feeling they both share for you intertwined lives somehow.

Joel took a deep breath, finally breaking the silence. "I should get going. You both have a new life to start."

Connell extended his hand, and Joel shook it firmly. "Take care of her, Connell."

Connell nodded; his grip steady. "I will, Joel. And you take care of yourself too."

With that, Joel turned and walked away, leaving behind the memories he shared with you inside this place, the first stolen glances, the fighting, the laughter, and the cups of coffee you left for him every morning. All that being left behind, buried.  

As Joel stepped out of the shop, he turned and locked eyes with you for what felt like the last time. The weight on both of your hearts hung in the air. In that fleeting moment, your gazes held longing and hurt. You were the tear hanging inside his heart. 

And Joel's eyes searched yours for a final glimpse of love. He had wanted to say so much, but the timing had never been right, and now it was too late, but he hoped that you’d find your way back in the end. 

You met his gaze with sadness and understanding. There was something about him that made your heart clench. He had been the man who touched your soul before your skin, and how would it be possible for you to forget about that?

You offered a small nod, and he returned it in kind, sharing that secret language you both learned, as a silent goodbye. 

Was that “I love you” the worst thing he had ever heard?

And then, as quickly as it had begun, Joel turned and walked away, disappearing into the distance. The chapter you had shared was closing, and as he faded from view, you knew it was time to look ahead, to embrace the new beginning that awaited next to Connell miles away. 

Connell watched that unspoken interaction and sensed the weight on your shoulders. He walked over to you, and gently pressed a kiss on your forehead, as a tender gesture, a silent promise of a future without wounds to take care of.  With his kiss, he silently looked for reassurance that you weren’t having second thoughts. 

.....

The warmth of the evening had set the perfect backdrop for a dinner in the backyard. You and Connell had prepared a delightful spread of chicken, grilled vegetables, and a bottle of wine that Connell had selected for sharing with your friends. Lily and Tommy sat around the wooden patio table, the soft glow of string lights overhead casting a warm glow.

As Tommy and Connell got engrossed in a conversation about their favorite sports teams, you and Lily found yourselves drawn to the quieter solace of the backyard. There, under the starry sky, you could speak without being overheard.

You looked at them, attentive, with a serious expression, your eyes reflected the soft, flickering light.  

Lily glanced at you; concern etched across her face. "A penny for your thoughts, Bee bee?” 

You took a deep breath, “I think I’m a little bit nervous about next week.” 

Lily's eyes filled with understanding as she listened intently. “Nervous about London? Or leaving Joel behind?”

Your gaze shifted, and you looked at Lily with surprise. It was as if she had read your thoughts, as always. You nodded slowly. "Both, actually.” 

Lily leaned in closer, her voice a soft, comforting murmur. "Bee, it's okay to have mixed feelings. Leaving behind a place and someone who meant so much to you is never easy. But it's also the beginning of this new adventure with Connell."

You sighed, feeling grateful for Lily's understanding. She made you feel at ease with your racing thoughts. “I just wish it were simpler, you know? I don't want to hurt anyone. I couldn’t forgive myself if I hurt Connell” 

At that moment, your and Connell's gazes met from the distance. He gave you a big smile which you mirrored, but it didn’t reach your eyes. 

You felt Lily’s hand on yours as a gesture of reassurance. “You have a big heart, Bee. Connell loves you for who you are. Trust in that."

Lily's words were a soothing balm to your worried mind. Her support and the warm of her friendship alongside the starry evening created a special moment in her last days in this place. You knew that leaving the past behind was never a straightforward journey, but it was reassuring to have a friend who understood your complexities.

As Connell's gaze met yours and you exchanged smiles, once again, you realized that your anxieties didn't mean you loved him any less. The weight of the past could coexist with the past, and maybe you could learn how to fall in love with him again. 

Joel managed a fragile smile, and he held your hand as if it were the lifeline he needed at that moment.

Sarah and Tommy lingered in the doorway, watching the two of you with tiny smiles on their faces. 

Joel spoke softly, "I'm sorry for worrying you, Bee."

You shook your head, your voice filled with genuine concern. "Don’t say anything” you said as you laid your head on his chest, as if hearing the beating of his heart would reassure you, he was going to be okay.

As you leaned your head against Joel's chest, seeking comfort in the steady rhythm of his heartbeat, you didn't notice Connell watching the two of you from the hospital lobby. His expression was unreadable. There was concern, understanding, and a tinge of jealousy. 

Connell had supported you through everything since you both were eighteen years old, and he loved you deeply. But seeing you in this moment with Joel stirred emotions within him that he couldn't fully process, leaving a siren in his mind.

Sarah and Tommy decided to leave the room, giving the two of you some privacy. Joel's hand gently rested on your back, his fingers tracing comforting patterns down your spine as if his fingers were brushes tracing lines on your back.

Joel spoke again "Bee, I know I've made a mess of things, but I want you to know that you mean a lot to me. More than I can put into words."

You didn't respond with words. Instead, you tightened your grip on him, holding him close, and Connell remained in the background, his thoughts and feelings his own, as you and Joel found peace in each other's presence. 

Once you were back home, you were awfully quiet for Connell’s like. He had seen the way your face sparkled when you were with Joel in his room, how you held him tight, and how you seemed terrified at the thought of losing him.

It was the moment in which Connell realized he wasn’t the one anymore, but he didn’t want to admit it. He wanted to hold onto the memories. 

“Hey, are you okay?” He asked you, trying to make you talk.

Connell's voice pulled you out of the storm inside your mind since your arrival from the hospital. You turned to face him, offering a faint smile that didn't quite reach your eyes.

"I'm okay, Connell," you replied, though your tone carried a hint of sadness. "Just a lot to process."

He nodded; concern showed across his features. "I understand. It's a lot to take in. But you know I'm here for you, right?"

You appreciated Connell's support more than you could express. He had been a rock in your life. It was just the reappearance of Joel after these three months and the accident had stirred up a multitude of feelings you thought didn’t exist. 

"I do,” you said, reaching out to take his hand. "You've been amazing, and I love you for that."

Connell's smile brightened at your words, and he squeezed your hand gently. "I love you too” he declared as he kissed your temple, as a way to find reassurance. 

You hugged Connell tightly as if to reassure yourself that you were still grounded in the present, even as the past loomed large in your heart and mind.

But for Connell, the pages were clearly written and he knew your heart didn’t belong to him anymore. 

One week later, and the night before your departure for London, everything seemed bittersweet around you. You were finished packing what was the last of your belongings, and the weight of leaving your life behind was the heavier suitcase you were carrying.

During the last week, you didn’t see Joel. All the updates about his recovery were through Lily, and the only thing you knew was that he had been dispatched from the hospital today.

You really wanted things between Connell and you to work out, so you made your promise to not see Joel again in order to do that. That night in the hospital was the goodbye you needed, and that was it. He was okay, so you were okay. You had bled, but your wounds would heal sooner than later. 

Nevertheless, Connell had been watching your movements for the last few days, and now, as you were carefully folding your clothes and going through the last-minute preparations. He found the strength to speak up. 

"There's something I've been thinking about," Connell began, his eyes reflecting the depths of his feelings.

You paused in your packing, looking into Connell's eyes, eager to hear what he had to say. "What is it?”

Connell took a deep breath, struggling to find the right words. " I don't want to be the reason for your regrets."

Your heart pounded in your chest as Connell spoke, tears welled up in your eyes. 

“You love him,” he said in a breathy voice. 

He wasn’t thinking about himself anymore, or where you would go after this, he was thinking about you. 

“Connell, we’re leaving tomorrow. I’m with you and I love you” you whispered, trying to convince him, and mostly yourself at the same time. 

Connell nodded, his own eyes brimming with tears. "You love me, I know, but you’re not in love with me.” 

You wiped away a tear, your voice trembling. "Connell"

“You’re in love with Joel and he is in love with you”, he declared.

As much as he was devasted by the thought of letting you go, he wanted you to be happy. He would give you everything, even when he would be a little in between for a while.

You shook your head. “He isn’t.”

“Then why did he buy your shop?”

“What?” Your eyes widened. You felt shocked and confused. “Why?”

Connell reached out and took your hand, his touch warm and reassuring. "I think he did it because he thought you would come back and because he is in love with you.” 

Connell gazed at you with a mixture of sadness and love. "And I love you enough to let you go” " He said “You need more time to figure things out, and I don’t want you to go with me if you can’t do that.”

His words pierced your heart. 

“I don’t want you to hate me,” you said, whispering. 

Connell chuckled softly, Connell squeezed your hand gently, and then he cupped your face with his hand to look at you in the eyes. “Nothing you say or you do would make me hate you” You leaned in his touch and hugged him tightly, crying on his shoulder.

“I love you more than I could express.” You mumbled.

Connell held you tightly, his embrace filled with love, even though he knew it was time to let you go. His heart was heavy.

And the next morning, with one last, lingering kiss, you and Connell let each other go. You watched him boarding the plane, and as it took off, your eyes watered, you let your tears fall down your cheeks.

That plane carried Connell away from your life again, and you held onto the final image of Connell, offering a gentle wave and a bittersweet smile, muttering an “I love you” at you before disappearing from your sight. 

Once you got in your car, you felt the weight of your emotions pressing down on you like a heavy blanket suffocating you. All the love, guilt, sadness, and anger crunched your heart, leaving you alone with your thoughts. 

In the spare of seconds, Joel came to your mind and you felt anger surging through your veins like fire. You couldn’t help but blame him for ruining the opportunity you had to move on. You questioned yourself why you still wanted to go back to him and why he was coming back to you in your dreams as if he wanted to taunt you, and your frustration grew.

With a burning feeling settled in your chest, you made your way to Joel's house. You couldn't understand why he had bought your shop, why he had disrupted your life once again, so once you arrived, you stormed out of the car, determined to confront him. 

 You stood at his doorstep, your knuckles brushing against the wood, your heart pounding in your chest. When the door opened, there he stood, still bandaged from the accident. He looked surprised at seeing you here. 

"Joel," you began, your voice laced with anger. "Why?”

His brows furrowed, and he stammered "Bee, I thought you'd be on a plane to London with Connell by now."

You met his surprised gaze with anger. "I was supposed to be, but Connell stopped me from it.” 

Joel seemed surprised, but something in his gaze showed relief at knowing you would still be here. He stepped aside, allowing you to enter his house, and you both moved to the living room. The familiar surroundings seemed to echo with memories of your last time together. The three words you confessed to him, the way he broke your heart, and then you walked out of his life. 

“Why did you lie to me?” you demanded “Why did you tell Tommy bought my shop, when it was really you?”

You were met with silence.

“Why did you buy it, Joel?” you shouted. 

“Because I knew you would come back to me,” he said, as a matter of fact. Simply as if he owned you.

Your anger flared at his audacity. "You can't just manipulate my life like that, Joel! You can't decide things for me without even asking” Your voice suddenly deepened. “And for what do you even want me?” you asked “For playing with my fee-“

Joel's lips crashed onto yours, and for a moment, you were stunned into silence. The kiss was intense and filled with all the longing and regret Joel felt. 

As he pulled away, his eyes bore into yours with an intensity that took your breath away. "I bought the shop because I couldn't bear to see you go without a chance for us to make things right."

You were caught between anger and desire, your heart racing from the sudden kiss. "Joel, you can't just kiss me and expect everything to be fixed."

He reached out to cup your face, even with one of his hands broken, his thumb gently tracing your cheek. "I'm not expecting that, Bee. I just needed you to know that I love you”

 Torn between your anger and the lingering love you felt, you took a step back, away from his touch.

“What?”

“I love you,” he said, not taking his eyes off you. “I’m in love with you.” 

Your eyes and mouth were wide open, but you still managed to shoot him a glare. You could pretend you didn’t hear him and leave. You didn’t trust yourself right now, but his big brown eyes prevented her from walking away.

He told you he was in love with you.

Your voice wavered as you replied, "Joel, you can't just say that now. Not after everything that happened."

He took a step closer, his eyes searching yours. "I know I should have said it earlier, and I'm sorry for all the pain I've caused. But it's the truth, Bee. I love you, and I'm willing to do whatever it takes me to make things right."

You struggled to maintain your composure, you were shocked,

“Are you going to say something?” he whispered. 

 "Joel, it's not that simple” you spoke

He nodded, his expression earnest. "I understand that. I know we have a lot to work through, and I'm willing to take the time and the effort.” 

Your heart ached at his words, and the internal battle you had been fighting raged on. "Joel, I need time to think and process all of this. I can't make any promises right now."

Joel reached out to gently touch your arm, a silent plea in his eyes. "I'll give you the time you need, Bee. Just promise me you won't leave” he said, cupping your face.

You found yourself relaxing with his presence and touch, by nodding your head as a silence promise. 

 "Okay,” you whispered.

Your head was a thunderstorm of infinite questions running through your head. You had so many, but you didn’t know where to start. 

He smiled at you, and that made you lose your mind and you don’t know what to do, what to express, or how to act. 

“I’m glad you’re okay” you whispered.

Joel's smile held a genuine warmth, and his thumb traced soothing patterns on your cheek. "I'm glad I'm okay too, and I'm grateful you're still here."

The two of you stood there in a moment of fragility as your eyes locked onto Joel’s.

You had to go before you lost your mind, and you needed space to clear your head. You took a step back, your gaze not quite meeting his. 

"I need to go now, Joel. I need time to think."

Joel's expression showed understanding, and he nodded. "I get it, Bee. Take all the time you need."

You turned and headed for the door; your steps were slow as if a string was pulling into him. The weight of what started as a simple game between you two, the confusion of the present and the uncertainty of the future were heavy on your shoulders. You needed time to heal your scars, to figure out what your heart truly wanted.

Before leaving, you glanced back at Joel, and for a brief moment, your eyes met again, unspoken words flowing in the air. Then, you stepped out, leaving behind the man who had both broken and mended your heart, and who now waited for your decision.

It was his time to wait now.

a/n: Okay, so now he bought the shop because he knew she was going to come back to him somehow and he wanted to have it for her because the flower shop was important to her and after all, he has the keys to her heart (yes, as cheesy as it sounds). Now, he has to fix everything and suffer a little because the reader (bee) has to be loved. btw I'm already thinking about the next fic

tags: @joeldjarin @borhapparker @fatima-marisa @kirsteng42 @paleidiot @harriedandharassed @runningmom94 @pedr0swh0r3 @ssacharcoalgrey

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x y/n #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x f!reader #pedro pascal character fanfiction #joel miller series #the last of us fanfiction #joel miller #joel miller imagine #joel miller angst #tlou fanfiction #joel the last of us #joel x reader #Joel Miller #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal fanfiction #the last of us #pedro pascal imagine #pedro pascar character imagine #pedro pascal

[favefandomimagines]

my tears ricochet (j.t.)

Summary: after years of being at odds with Jamie Tartt, it takes one moment for the walls to come crumbling down

SHE'S BACK BITCHES you can thank Ted Lasso for the inspiration because I just couldn't watch the show and not write anything for Jamie Tartt

AN: angsty fluff is my go to so what better way to make a comeback than my usual. inspired by the scene where Jamie's dad comes into the locker room after the Man City match

"Jamie, why are you doing this?" You questioned your boyfriend of two years. He had just told you he was breaking up with you, completely out of the blue.

"If i'm going to go pro I can't have things from my past weighing me down. Not if I want to be the best." He said. You were stunned at his words.

Did he really believe that? Did he really believe you would weigh him down? "No, no, this isn't you. This is your dad talking. You promised me you would never hurt me, not like this." You replied.

"I lied then. We were kidding ourselves if we thought this would last after school. We're just kids, this was never going to be anything serious." Jamie rebutted. You scoffed at his words. You didn't want to believe that Jamie would actually feel that way.

"It was serious to me. It was serious to you three months ago when you said you wanted me by your side for as long as I'd have you." You replied. "I told you what you wanted to hear." Jamie said simply.

That was the figurative dagger in your back. You had to stop yourself from doing anything you'd regret in the morning. That being punching Jamie in the nose and dealing with the consequences of a fractured hand.

"Go then." You said through tears. "Y/N," Jamie started. "You want to go? Then go. But don't expect me to answer when you call." You snapped, slamming the door in his face.

That fight was four years ago and yet it still plagued your nightmares. The hurtful things Jamie said to you still playing through your head whenever you were ready to move on officially.

Sure you dated guys here and there, but the second you felt that it could become serious, hearing Jamie say he told you what you wanted to hear played on a loop.

You were angry he still had that much control over you. And your current occupation didn't help either. You had just started as the athletic trainer for AFC Richmond. Which meant you saw Jamie on a daily basis.

He tried to start a conversation with you, try to make up for the things he did but you never gave him the time of day.

It was your first official month at AFC Richmond and you had succeeded at avoiding Jamie at all costs. You'd either be busy, gone home early, or simply said no. All resulting in one of the other physios treating him.

He knew what you were doing. So that's why he had to corner you in the treatment room to even get face time with you. He walked into the room and closed the door, standing in front of it so you couldn't leave.

“What the hell are you doing?" You questioned. "You won't talk to me." Jamie answered. "Did you ever think that I had a very good reason for not wanting to talk to you?" You asked. "Y/N, Jamie started.

"You don't get to do this. You don't get to trap me in here and force me to talk to you. You made this decision and now you have to live with it. You can't just come back into my life like you didn't break my heart." You said with an eerily calm tone.

"That's not who I am anymore." Jamie said. "Well the person you are now, has to pay for the mistake of the person you were." You said.

You looked at him, signaling him to step aside so you could leave. the two of you just started at each other for a moment and it took everything in your power not to fold and fall into his arms.

But eventually he did move, letting you walk through the door. Jamie didn't have many regrets in his life but doing what he did to you was by far the worst thing and his biggest regret.

The night he broke up with you, Jamie let his dad get into his head, saying all of these things about how you'll bring him down. He can't go pro with a girlfriend from home. He'll get bored of you anyway, so he should just cut you loose.

Jamie didn't know why he listened to his father in the first place. His mother had told him that you would be the thing that grounded him when he finally had his big break.

He didn't have you, and he turned into a huge prick. And that day you were right, he was paying for the mistakes that version of himself made.

__

The match against Man City at Wembley did not have the outcome everyone wanted. Richmond lost and no one was feeling good about it.

You were packing up heat packs and resistance bands when the locker room door opened.

"Uh, Mr. Tartt? You have a visitor. Says he's your father." The security man said.

Instinctually, Jamie and you locked eyes, you gave your head a slight shake. Telling Jamie that seeing his father was the last thing he needed.

Jamie sighed before giving the man permission to bring him in. You despised Jamie's father. You always hated how the man treated his son and you hated how Jamie just sat their and took it.

Now, Jamie was allowing this man to kick him while he's already down.

"Hey, it's a tough one lads, it's tough one. But no shame to it, because you know we only ever beat everybody we play." Jamie's father laughed.

"You pups had no chance. And there he is, my son. My own flesh and blood. Poor Jamie, my son. Now, maybe I'm thinking, his heart's still in Manchester and that's why he missed that sitter in the first half. You absolutely balled it. You balled it. What were you thinking? I'm only kidding." James continued.

You tensed when he started shoving Jamie slightly. You weren't close enough to hear what was said, only hearing Jamie say "don't speak to me like that."

It all escalated so quickly after that. James turned around and began yelling at the team, shouting that they were amateurs. Jamie turned away from his father and James pushed him harshly.

Jamie turned back around and punched his father in the nose, hard enough to send him to the ground.

Before James could retaliate against Jamie, Coach Beard picked him up and escorted him outside.

For a second, nobody moved. It felt like everyone stopped breathing, just staring at Jamie. You included. You could see it on his face, he was about to break.

Roy started to move but you beat him to it. You wrapped your arms around Jamie and he was taken aback at first. But then he grabbed onto you tightly and cried into your shoulder.

"You're okay, I got you." You whispered to him. In response his hold around you only got tighter, like he was afraid you'd evaporate in his arms.

It wasn't the first time you had to comfort Jamie after run ins with his father. When he was playing football for the school team, his dad got on him about everything.

There were many nights where Jamie would sneak into your bedroom because he just felt better with you. You made things feel better, even if only for a moment.

After a few seconds of just holding him, he pulled away from you and neither of you had noticed the team dispersed.

"The team is probably waiting for you on the bus." You said, breaking the silence. "Yeah, yeah. You're right." Jamie replied. "I'll see you on the bus, Jamie." You told him as you grabbed your bag of supplies.

For the third time, he watched you walk away from him. But this time was different. Even after what he did, you were still there for him after his dad barged in.

That night, after you had driven home, got in your pajamas and sat on your sofa with a glass of wine, the last thing you'd expect was to have someone knock at your door.

And hell probably froze over because Jamie was standing on your doorstep.

"Jamie?" You questioned. "Can we talk? Please?" He asked, almost pleaded. You blamed your fatigue on you giving in so quickly, but you let him inside nonetheless.

"I let you down. That night at your house, I let you down." He spoke. "I-I let me dad control me and I did the last thing I ever wanted to do. You meant the world to me and I let you go. I'm sorry, Y/N." He added.

You didn't really know what to say to him after that. So you just took his hand and brought him to the sofa, where he sat down next to you.

"What you did really hurt me. I thought I did something wrong, like I didn't make you happy anymore. I tried to move on, I went on a few dates but every time I thought you were in the past, I just kept hearing what you said to me that night." You said.

"You didn't deserve that. You didn't deserve any of that." Jamie replied. "You're right. I didn't deserve any of that. But that's not who you are anymore, is it?" You asked.

"The Jamie I knew, the Jamie you were, would have never stuck up to your dad the way you did. I never understood why but I always supported you. But the Jamie you are now, you stuck up for yourself. You didn't let him bully you and I'm really, really proud of you." You continued.

"But you said-" He started. "I know what I said. I know I said that you had to pay for those mistakes. I was wrong." You interrupted.

"I love you, Y/N. I don't think I ever stopped loving you even though I definitely tried." Jamie confessed. "How about this? We start over. Let me get to know the new Jamie." You said.

A smile formed on Jamie's face as he held out his hand. "Hi, I'm Jamie." He said. You laughed lightly as you took his hand. "I'm Y/N." You replied, shaking his hand. "Would you like to go on a date with me?" Jamie asked.

"Yes, yes I would." You said.

And you did go on the date with Jamie. You learned who this new Jamie really was. He was kind, caring, still cocky as ever but he cared about others.

He had best friends in, Sam, Isaac and even Roy though he didn’t really phrase it like that. Jamie stopped letting the opinions of the world define him and only the opinions of those he loved and valued.

You felt incredibly proud of Jamie and this new person he had become and this Jamie was the one you fell in love with.

#imagine #imagines #ted lasso #jamie tartt #jamie tartt imagine #jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt angst #jamie tartt fluff #ted lasso imagine

[lionheartedmusings]

as the pieces start to slot together (and i mean... barely, we have like two corners) it's becoming to me more and more apparent that everything we're seeing from q!bad is nothing more than a very elaborate game of chess that he's forced everyone into, and i have thoughts, especially regarding two things he said to q!bagi yesterday that really, really stood out... and something he hasn't said that speaks volumes.

let me preface by saying that q!bad is a liar, a gaslighter, the man is built on lies and deflection — he almost always tells you the truth sandwiched between two lies and leaves you to wonder what the fuck just happened. he's slippery, he's deceitful, and he doesn't make the error of thinking he's the smartest person in the room all the while knowing full well he can pull all the strings he needs mostly undetected.

q!bad is also not someone who measures his love by how much he trusts people — those two things are separate to him to an extent, he can love you with his whole everything and not trust you. the only people he trusts are the eggs — i'd go as far as to say he doesn't even trust skeppy fully. take q!etoiles for example! someone who's always been on q!bad's corner but who he told to his face he can't trust fully because he's too powerful.

his trust issues run so deep that he doesn't even trust himself. he expressed that during the presidential election arc, and he's questioned if he's the one helping the feds subconsciously — q!bad hasn't cleared himself out of his own suspect list, and i need people to understand that.

q!bad is paranoid and cautious and every move he makes is weighed against the cost of making it, and how that could cause security and safety issues. it's exhausting, by the way, and i will go into heavy detail about that at a later date — how much it weighs on him to always think of the worst and prepare and anticipate and fight to prevent it.

still, it's... pretty apparent when q!bad is telling the truth if you know him enough — he does it when he doesn't say enough. if he's being cryptic, if his voice drops and he seems blaze about something unimportant... he's telling you a lot more than he's letting on, and he's hoping you'll catch on. i find it fascinating that he chose to do that with q!bagi yesterday.

"my only goals are to find my kids and to leave the island" is such a rich morsel of where q!bad is going with this? we know he's sussing out someone who is knowingly or unknowingly working with the federation, but i don't think that's all — i think he knows very well what he plans to do when he finds that person, and also knows how he plans on using that info to get everyone out safely.

he also blatantly (in q!bad speech) told q!bagi that everything he's doing, he's doing for a reason and that that reason is ultimately a positive end goal for everyone. he was telling her that he's got a purpose, he's not crazy or erratic on a whim — he's calculated. i don't know if he chose q!bagi because he knew she wouldn't get it but he hoped she'd find it curious, or if he just needed to talk at someone, but it really stood out to me.

the second thing that stood out was his surprise that q!bagi had even trusted him before, and that knowing that was the highlight of his day.

now, i genuinely don't think q!bad measures his love / care in terms of how much he trusts other people, but he measures his own worth in how much he's trusted, relied on, and how much he can do for others. for him to blatantly admit how that little admission of trust even if it's gone now means so much to him? my man's struggling big time (we knew that already) but enough that he's vocalizing it.

but really can we be surprised? i've talked about how i didn't feel like q!bad was sorry for kidnapping / torturing ron and i've let him cook and changed my mind on the subject... kind of.

i think q!bad is remorseful and sorry for what he's having to do, more than of what he's doing. he's sorry he's having to go to this length, he spoke candidly about how much he hated hurting his friends and how he wasn't sure how many more he'd have to hurt in the process, he hates that for his plan to succeed (and everything is always "going according to plan") he has to do these things. he wishes he didn't have to.

he's not sorry for what he's doing, but he is. he's sorry he's hurting people, but he's not sorry that his plan has to be seen through — he's working towards the big picture, and he can't stop now. he knew what he was getting into, and there's no jumping ship now. he decided to burn himself and his bridges for the benefit of his children and his family (and q!bad's family is much more extensive than he lets on) and it's his cross to bear now.

he also doesn't trust himself, like i said before.

here's the thing about q!bad — he will talk in circles, alone, for hours. he'll run scenarios over and over in his head, ruminate, theorize and discard possibilities to exhaustion... it's the things he says once and doesn't mention again that are scary, because he locks them down in his head where it's safe.

he's noticed the federation is incredibly lenient with him — he said it offhandedly once, alone, he said "chat, have you noticed that all they ever give me is a slap on the wrist" — he knows. he knows something's up, he knows something's wrong with that picture.

he doesn't trust himself. he'll get to the bottom of this whole thing if it kills him, and by god if he has to be the most hated man on this island by the end of it... so be it. it's a small sacrifice to make for the children that he loves, and for their many families that he considers friends.

never forget that q!bad is, above all else, the man who lives in service of others... it's just that sometimes, that service isn't items and help and safety.

we also need to acknowledge that what q!bad is doing is most likely a direct parallel to what q!cellbit did with the regret arc but i don't think people are ready for that conversation yet

#qsmp #q!badboyhalo #qsmp analysis #long post #i am so sorry for this #i have more thoughts but i #decided this was more than enough #god help me #over 1k words on badboyhalo and it's barely 1pm

[thefallennightmare]

Miracle-seven

Pairings: Noah Sebastian x Reader

Warnings/Tropes: forced proximity, slight enemies to lovers, slow burn, smut, angst, fluff, mentions of death, and swearing.

Summary: Reader is the merch girl for Bad Omens. It wasn't what she wanted to do with her life but when her mother got sick with Alzheimer's, reader took a job where she could to help with the costs. She thought it would be a one-time gig but the longer she was on the road with them, the harder she fell for Noah Sebastian; even if he wanted nothing to do with her. She needed a miracle to save her mom and her future.

Author Note: fuck, it's almost one in the morning but here's the next part! I wanted things to be more spicey but I'm so tired so it lacks luster, my apologies.

Tags: @ada-clarence @nonamessblog @thescarlettvvitch @malice-ov-mercy @crimson-calligraphyx @theoneandonlykymberlee @yumikitten @blackveilomens @cherrymedicine13 @thebadchic @notmaddihealy @jay02bo @beaker1636 @jakekiszkasguitarpick @punk-pr1ncessxoxo @er3nslovergirl @iamdesolate @lma1986 @jessitpwk @themodern-daywednesday @writethrough

Bringing the blanket closer to my chin, I wrapped it tighter around me as I dug myself deeper into bed. The morning rays of the sun broke through the windows of the bus showing it was well into the morning. We'd been driving for almost eight hours now, me just waking up a while ago. Last night after leaving the venue, Folio showed me around the bus before letting me get settled. Compared to the crew's bus, the guy's bus was decently bigger with six bunks, a kitchen with living space up front, and a room in the back that they used to their gaming space. I was surprised at how spacious the bunks were but figured they had to be with how tall Jolly and Noah were.

Thinking of Noah, my eyes darted to the bunk directly across from me and saw he was awake browsing his phone, earbuds in both ears. Even though we finally got past what happened that night in Chicago, there still was this weird tension between us and the only reason that could be was because what happened that night at the Airbnb.

I leaned over the edge of my bunk and patted his arm to get his attention.

"Need something?" Noah questioned while taking out an ear bud.

"Do you think we can talk about what happened the other night? At the Airbnb."

This made him drop his phone to his bed and turned on his side to fully face me, one of his arms to burry underneath his pillow.

"I thought we didn't need to talk about it. You said it was a onetime thing," Noah reminded me.

"I know," I sighed. "And I meant it. But I don't want things to get awkward between us because of it."

Noah gave me a warm smile. "It's only awkward if one of us makes it and I don't plan too."

"Me either," I matched his smile.

We watched each other for a few more beats before Jolly popped his head through the door that closed off the bunks to the front of the bus.

"Oh, good. You're awake," he motioned towards Noah. "We've got a problem."

Those words made me sit up in my bunk while Noah stood to his feet, running a hand through his sleep tousled hair to fix it.

"What's up?"

Jolly told him to follow which he did but curiosity also weighed heavily on me so I did as well, seeing that both of the Nick's were awake, sitting on the couches. Noah sat down at the table in the kitchen while I sat across from him.

"Breakfast?" Nick asked while holding up a box of cereal.

"Please," I said with a smile.

With the bowl of cereal in front of me, I listened as Jolly explained what their problem was.

"They canceled the festival tomorrow. I guess Ohio was hit with some nasty storms so they thought better to be safe."

Noah's shoulders fell in disappointment.

"Damn. We're almost there, aren't we?" He asked.

Folio nodded. "The rest of the crew arrived about two hours ago. Matt's trying to figure out what to do."

"Should we head to the next city?" Nick suggested.

"Maybe we should meet up with the others and we can all leave together," Jolly said.

Noah rubbed at the faint stubble that covered his chin. "I feel bad for the fans."

Just then, as I was sitting there quietly eating my cereal, an idea sprouted in my mind but I thought it would be best to keep it to myself. This seemed like a Bad Omens meeting, yet they were willingly talking about any possible plans in front of me.

I took my bowl to the sink in the small kitchen to wash it and once finished; I turned on my heels and grabbed the edge of the counter behind me.

"I may have an idea," I muttered.

Four sets of eyes fell on me and Noah raised a brow at me.

"About?"

I took a deep breath, gaining the courage to tell them about this grand idea.

"So you guys feel terrible about the festival being canceled because you want to play for the fans, right?"

When they nodded, I felt stronger so stood up straighter. "What if you guys do this pop up event?"

"Pop up event?" Jolly repeated.

"Yeah," I nodded this time. "I've seen a few bands do this, and it was really popular with their fans. We can rent out a place to set up a table where fans can come get autographs and set up the merch booth so they can buy merch; that way they can still see you guys. We'll sell a certain amount of tickets for this."

Noah and Jolly shared a look while Folio gave me a huge smile, clearly loving the idea.

"Do you think it's sort of last minute?" Nick asked.

I scoffed lightly. "You guys seem to forget about much your fans love you. If we announce this, I guarantee tickets will sell out in a few hours."

"I like it," Jolly admitted. "But what about the people that already bought tickets to see a concert?"

My bottom lip caught between my teeth as I thought of something else they could do. Just because they couldn't play at the festival didn't mean they couldn't play somewhere else.

"What if you guys play somewhere else?" I asked.

Noah hesitated with apprehension as he leaned his arm over the back of his seat and I did my best not to gawk at the tattoos that rippled against the muscles of his arms. I needed to stay focused so I can prove to them that my crazy, last-minute idea wasn't that; crazy.

"I don't know, Y/N. It might be hard to book something so last minute," Folio spoke next.

My arms crossed over my chest, and I tapped my foot in agitation. "You're supposed to be on my side, Folio."

He held up his hands. "Trust me, I am. I like the idea of the pop up event but the last minute show might be harder to pull off."

"Please," I waved him off. "Someone in Ohio owes me a favor, a huge one at that. Give me some time and I'll get it all handled."

"Who do you know in Ohio?" Nick wondered.

"Some guy," I shrugged as if it wasn't a big deal.

Noah, however, thought it was because a muscle in his jaw ticked as his shoulders went rigid.

"An ex?" He asked through clenched teeth.

"Aw, are you jealous, Noah?" I leaned over the table closer to him. "That's cute, but no. Someone I met while I was in college. I've never had a boyfriend."

"Really?" Noah asked.

I didn't miss the surprise in his voice.

"Yeah. I've had hook ups during college but nothing ever turned serious. None of them were worth to have a future with."

He shifted in his seat and I worried I might have said something wrong but when he pulled me down into the seat next to him, Noah slid over his laptop in front of me.

"You want to prove to us you can do this, better get started," he smirked.

I narrowed my eyes at him. "You can have a little faith in me."

Noah bumped his shoulder with mine and stayed leaning into me. "I have the upmost faith in you, angel. That you won't pull this off."

Now my eyes buldged almost out of my head as a squeak of disbelieve fell from my lips.

"What do I get when I pull this off?" I debated with him.

The rest of the guys looked on amused, waiting to see what Noah would say.

"What do you want?" He shrugged.

I thought about it for a long moment, making a show of tapping my head with a finger, like how Winnie the Pooh did in the movie. Although, I put some thought to it because Noah Sebastian was asking what I wanted.

So many fucking things if they were coming from you.

Instead of something risqué, I chose something tamer and when the thought graced my mind, a large grin pulled at my lips.

"If I'm able to book the pop up and show successfully, I get to design your next tattoo."

Expecting him to say no, Noah simply leaned back into his seat to show his covered arms in tattoos then lifted his legs, not showing much space of skin.

"I have little space left but for you, angel. I'd find even a sliver of skin. You've got yourself a deal."

With that, I cracked my fingers and went to work finding not only a place to host their pop up event but also a concert. They were supposed to be playing in Cleveland so I started looking for smaller halls that could house the pop up event.

While I worked, Jolly went off to fill in Matt about my idea. Both of the Nicks retreated to the back area of the bus to play some kind of video game, and Noah moved from his spot next to me to the couch so he could stretch his long body. We didn't speak, letting the silence fall around us like a blanket, but I felt his gaze on my often. At one point, I looked over the laptop at him and noticed he was watching me with a smile.

"What? Is there something on my face?" I asked, suddenly self-conscious.

"No," he shook his head. "You look beautiful, angel."

I blushed, the warmth vibrating throughout my entire existence.

"Right."

Noah sat up straighter on the couch so he could see me better.

"You don't believe me?" He asked.

I shrugged. "For someone who barley talked to me last tour and when this one started, you're getting pretty cheeky with me."

"You're also not as closed off as you were last time," Noah noted.

"Well, I thought you hated me," I grumbled, eyes scanning the screen in front of me.

Noah came to sit in front of me and shut the laptop so we had to look at each other. There was a dull look of hurt in his brown iris'.

"You thought I hated you?" His voice was quiet, almost broken.

I shrugged one shoulder while pulling at a loose fabric on my sweatpants. "You didn't talk to me much so I thought I'd done something."

"Angel," Noah sighed.

"Don't say it's because of what happened in Chicago," I interrupted. "I felt this way long before then."

He fell back into the bench seat behind him, a low noise crawling its way through his throat, my confession taking him by surprise.

"I never hated you, Y/N. Even what happened after Chicago. And let me set the record straight; I never hated you because of what happened that night. I was upset that you could of seriously been hurt and never realized it."

My eyes cast down to my hands that were now folded together on the table in front of me.

"I know," I whispered.

Noah reached over and linked our hands together. "I'm sorry for the hurtful things I've said and how I've been towards you. Please know I never hated you."

I swallowed thickly at his apology; it was sincere. Probably the first time I'd ever hear something so truthful from Noah. I gave his hand a tight squeeze, letting him know I accepted his apology.

Feeling better about our conversation, Noah put the laptop back in front of me and now watched me from right across of the table. My phone was set on the table next to it and it began flashing with notifications from Only Fans so I quickly flipped it over so Noah didn't notice.

It's been a few days since I posted anything and my subscriber count went up a few but still not enough to be making a lot of money. I knew it was because the things I posted were tame compared to what was already on the sight from others but I wasn't willing to change my rules. This was only a temporary thing so I could pay Lana until I was back home. Then I would deactivate my account.

"Hiding something?" Noah questioned with a knowing smug smile as he peered over the laptop.

"Nope, just stupid emails," I lied and forced my eyes to look back at the screen in front of me.

I had a message up to my old college lab partner, wondering if he still had that hook up with someone from the local mall in Cleveland. There was a decent sized space that was used to be rented out for meetings or parties. It would be perfect for the pop up event.

A notification of a new email popped up on the corner of the screen and seeing who it was from, I clicked on it.

Dear MS. Y/L/N,

I'm glad that you reached out. We heard about the cancelation of the festival because of the weather. We here at House of Blues would love to have Bad Omens play here tomorrow night. Attached is a copy of the contact that can be signed then sent over. I hope you understand that with it being a last-minute booking, extra fee's apply. Please let me know if you'd like to proceed.

Dan Sorenson

House of Blues.

"Ha!" I yelled, turning the screen to face Noah.

His eyes darted back and forth as he read the screen, his face not changing from the smug smile he wore.

"Well, looks like the show is booked but you still have to deal with the pop up event," He reminded me.

I stuck my tongue out at him while turning the laptop back to me. "Yes, I know that."

Noah groaned while griping my chin between his thumb and pointer finger. "If you stick that pretty little tongue out at me one more time, angel, I'm going to bite his so hard it bleeds."

My skin ignited with a blaze so hot it surprised me Noah didn't rear back in hissing pain. There was a slickness between my legs from his promise and I almost did it again so he could act on it. But Folio walked from the back of the bus and with a curious gaze at us, he sat down on the couch in the living area.

"What's going on here?" He asked.

Noah's eyes flashed before he let my face go and went over to sit next to Folio. As their conversation faded to the background of my subconscious, I blinked a few times to center myself and noticed a new message appeared on the screen in front of me.

Y/N! It's been awhile? How're things?

I can definitely book our event space for your friend's band tomorrow. There's a lot of us that are familiar with Bad Omens so we'd be happy to host your pop up event. What time did you need?

By now, Jolly and Nick came to join the others, and I grabbed the laptop to walk over to them, showing the message.

"I'll be damned," Folio whistled low.

"I'm impressed," Jolly said with a chuckle.

Nick smacked Noah against his shoulder. "Looks like I'll be tattooing whatever design she comes up with."

"I guess so," he winked at me. "I'll admit when I'm wrong and I was. Thanks for doing that, Y/N."

I smiled while setting the laptop on the table before falling into the couch between Folio and Jolly. "I've already posted it all to the Bad Omens social media and sent the details over to Matt so he can get his end tied up."

"You should be our social media ambassador," Folio said.

Immediately I shook my head. "No, that seems like a lot of work I'm not qualified for."

Nick snorted. "You booked two huge events on last-minute notice and got it spread like wildfire online. Tickets are already being bought."

I peered over at his phone that he titled towards me and sure enough, ticket sales were already booming for both events. But I still wasn't convinced.

"Don't you guys switch off posting on the Bad Omens social medias?" I asked.

"Yeah but it'll be easier if you took it over. We forget sometimes and it gets messy who was supposed to post something," Folio said.

I chewed on the inside of my cheek, really thinking about his offer. It's not like it was a hard job, it was something I did on my own social media.

"Does it come with a pay raise?"

It was supposed to be a joke, but Noah responded right away.

"Of course. It's a lot more work than being the merch girl, which you won't be anymore. We can find someone to replace you."

This was not something I expected to happen when I woke up this morning, but I wasn't complaining. The pay raise would be significant and maybe I could deactivate my only fans page sooner than expected.

"Okay. I'll do it."

For the next while, the guys told me what my new position would entail and what I was in charge of. While Byran took professional photos and videos of them, I would still take some and post to their tik tok page or Instagram stories. When Bryan finished editing whatever photos he took, he would send them over to me and I would post them. I would also be in charge of dealing with messages that came through any platform.

By the time we ironed everything out, I excuse myself to my bunk, exhaustion overtaking my body. It was well into the afternoon and knowing we would be in Cleveland soon, I desperately wanted to nap before then.

As I lay in my bunk, I ended up staring at my Only Fans page and thought about ways I could revamp it to get a few more subscribers. Even with my new job title and pay, I couldn't give it up yet. Lana's paycheck was due tomorrow and while I had enough for it, it would clear out my bank account.

I pulled tight the curtain to my bunk as best as I could and stripped out of my shirt, pants, and bra. I wouldn't be able to record a video right now so a picture was the best option. Instead of covering my breasts, I kept them on display as I held up my phone, snapping a few different angles making sure my face was covered. Once satisfied with how I looked, I got dressed again and uploaded a few of the pictures to my page.

By the time that was finished, my eyes were heavy with slumber so I curled into the corner of the bunk, letting sleep encase around me. I was so deep in sleep that I barely heard Noah's phone go off and a loud groan of pleasure echoed from his bunk.

"You've got to be kidding me, angel. Right next to me."

"I can't believe how well everything turned out," I smiled as I walked alongside Folio in the mall.

The pop up event ended a few minutes ago and as mentioned, everything went smoothly. Fans were ecstatic to meet the guys and get their autographs. Merch sold like crazy and thankfully, Matt and Davis could cover my old job until they could find a replacement. Matt thought my new job was a great idea, mentioning that I was always made for more than just selling merch.

"You did that," Folio bumped his shoulder into mine, a proud smile on his face.

Jolly and Nick were in front of our group, leading us to a restaurant so we could get something to eat before the show tonight. Another event I threw together. To say I was proud of myself was an understatement. I wanted to so badly call my mom to tell her but knew that she would only respond with three words.

"Who are you?"

I hadn't heard from either my mom or Lana today which made me worry because with how the last phone call conversation went, I could only think of the worst.

Noah made a noise of agreement in the back of his throat and I looked up to him as he walked next to me. From the second he stepped off looking like that, I was so wound up and turned on that I kept squeezing my aching core between my legs to curb that itch. Noah had the top half of his hair up in a bun and wore a baggy shirt with an anime logo and name across it and a pair of black shorts.

I wanted to lick every inch of muscles on his thighs; he looked that delicious.

But something was different with him today. Noah made sure that he never strayed far from me and during the event, his eyes were almost always on me. He refused to let me out of his sight. The brown of his eyes drank in every inch of me as well and if I didn't find a corner to rub one out, I would explode.

We found a restaurant inside the mall and all slide into a corner booth at the back of the large room. With how we sat, Noah and I were seated alone on one side, kind of away from Jolly, Nick, and Folio. The three of them chatted about what they were going to get and as I was about to ask Noah what he wanted, I felt his hand grasp the inside of my thigh and I sucked in a breath.

"Angel," he breathed in my ear.

I hummed when his fingers slowly moved higher between my legs. Our actions were underneath the table so no one could see.

"I can't stop thinking about your face when you cum," he admitted. "Can you do that for me again, please?"

I shouldn't do this. It was only supposed to be a onetime thing. But I was also so fucking horny, I needed this so bad. And he asked nicely.

My eyes fluttered shut when his finger slipped between the waistband of my leggings and without thinking, I spread my legs wider for him. If he didn't understand that, I gave a firm nod while keeping up the facade of looking over the menu.

Noah did the same, his eyes scanning his menu all while his finger slipped between my panties and pussy.

I bit down hard on my lip to keep the moan quiet when his finger brushed along my folds, knowing he felt how wet I'd been all day. He turned his face slightly towards me, his eyes sparkling with arousal.

"So wet already," he mouthed.

Not trusting myself to be quiet, I nodded as his finger pushed inside of me, pumping slow at first to work me open. Then another finger joined, and I nearly dropped my head on the table. Noah's fingers were long where they could reach that spot with ease.

Noah leaned closer to me making it look like he was talking about something so normal. "You're so tight, angel. Are you going to cum already?"

"Yes," I whined.

"Have you been wet all day for me?"

Always.

I nodded which made Noah smirk. "Be a good girl and don't make a noise. I can't have the guys knowing what I'm doing to you underneath the table."

Fuck; Noah Sebastian was going to kill me.

As he talked to Folio, giving nothing away, his fingers worked inside of me fast and when his thumb pressed against my clit, I nearly came with a scream. My hips bucked up into his hand and I ended up setting the menu up to it could cover my face as my lips fell open in a silent moan. The orgasm was so close, a bright white light brushing over my vision and heat spread at the base of my spine to my scalp. I shook in Noah's grasp as my pussy walls clenched around his fingers.

"Noah," I breathed when the orgasm washed over me in a tidal wave.

I shamelessly dry humped his hand to ride over the last little of the aftershocks and almost whined when Noah turned to look at me. He pulled out his fingers, the sudden loss of warmth making me go slack against the booth, and brought them to his mouth. I watched in my post orgasmic haze as he licked them clean, his eyes blown wide with blackness of his own desires.

"What do you guys think of this place? We tried it back in Iowa, figured it was a good choice," Nick said.

The three of them were still oblivious to what happened.

"Best meal I've ever fucking had," Noah hummed, my arousal glistening his lips.

#noah sebastian #noah sebastian and reader #noah sebastian x reader #noah sebastian reader insert #noah sebastian smut #forced proximity #enemies to lovers #slow burn

[inhuman-obey-me]

Congrats on 🎉4000🎉 followers, you honestly deserve it. I love reading all your work. Can I request 👻 + Belphegor, with MC involved?

Two requests for Belphie with this prompt, wow! Thank you both for your compliments and the request!!

"I'm the creature that haunts your mind." - Belphegor/MC

cw: references to Lesson 16

You weren't always scared of the dark.

The thought has been weighing heavily on Belphegor's mind recently. It comes to him again as he watches you startle backwards at the innocent sight of a door unexpectedly ajar.

You were bold, for a human. You got used to the Devildom's most unsettling quirks with surprising speed. You got mad at him the first time he lied to you, which he'd shrugged off. But you had never, ever been scared of him.

You should have been.

It's your own fault, he tries to tell himself. I warned you. I told you that it was your fault for believing me in the first place.

That's what he tries to tell himself, but he can't.

He catches you as you trip backwards -- "Shouldn't you know to watch your step around here by now?" he teases, trying to raise your spirits. You laugh back with embarrassment, masking the momentary freeze as clumsiness.

It's enough to fool his brothers. But Belphie always was the more perceptive one.

You weren't always scared of the dark -- but you are now, and it's his fault, and he knows it.

Night falls, and he can't sleep, and that's a real problem for the Avatar of Sloth. You aren't sleeping either, he's pretty sure -- he'd know if you were. But it's been weeks now, and each night, he doesn't feel you relax into sleep so much as he senses you succumbing to exhaustion. So when he comes knocking on your door, he's fairly confident you'll answer.

"Oh, hi Belphie," you say with forced cheerfulness as you open up. "Is something the matter? It's late, it's not like you to be up still."

"I couldn't sleep, so I thought I'd come see if you were still awake. Although, I guess you should have been sleeping too, shouldn't you?" He gives you an equally forced smile, though he makes his look quite a bit more natural. Well, he's a practiced liar, after all, isn't he? You should know that well enough now.

"Oh, I-I um, I guess so. Yeah, I probably should be, huh? But I just felt like staying up tonight. You know, like...I was reading a scary story before bed, and now I'm too scared to go to sleep. That's what I get, I guess!" you laugh, sweeping away the truth behind evasive sheepishness again.

No, it's my fault. I'm the creature that haunts your mind, his mind screams at him. But he can't say that out loud to you, not when you're trying to keep up such a brave face. What can he say, though? What can he possibly say to make it better? As much as he wishes he could, he can't take it back. He can't fix this. There's only one thing he can say, and it won't fix anything for you.

Still, he should say it anyway, right?

"I'm sorry."

He squeezes you in a hug, not too tight but firm enough to reassure him that you're there -- that you're warm and solid, and that the biggest mistake of his life really hadn't cost you yours. He had grown to like you during those months he'd been shut up in the attic, honestly he really had! But he'd been so blinded by rage and grief that he killed you!

But he doesn't say any of this, so you just blink at him in confusion from within his embrace, softly patting his back in a daze. "Um...you don't need to be sorry that I read something scary, you know...?"

"Not for that. I'm sorry for what I did to you. I'm sorry that you're scared now. I'm sorry that sorry doesn't make it go away. I'm sorry that I'm the reason you can't sleep anymore. I'm just so, so sorry."

You laugh softly against his ear, partly out of surprise but sweet as syrup all the same, and you squeeze him gently back and give him a light peck on the cheek. "I know. That's the reason you can't sleep either, right? It's okay, we can fall asleep together. I think I'll be able to if you're next to me. I love you. I forgive you."

#obey me #obey me! #obey me swd #obey me shall we date #omswd #obey me belphegor #obey me belphie #om! belphegor #om! belphie #obey me belphegor x mc #obey me belphegor x reader #obey me belphie x mc #obey me belphie x reader #obey me fic #obey me drabble #writings #drabble #4000 follower celebration #mod chaos in the devildom

[yuurei20]

Short Translation from Twst the 2nd novel: Leona and Ruggie, to overblot (pt2)

"‘Right, Ruggie? I really can't stand people who don't listen. I thought you would've figured that out by now. You're skilled at reading people's moods and selling them flattery, after all.’

‘Th…I…’ Ruggie struggles, clawing at Leona’s black glove. In his desperation he is close to tearing the leather apart, but Leona shows no sign of concern.

‘Dreams? Turning the world around? Don't spout such naive drivel. No matter how talented you are, no matter how hard you work, no matter what you do, there are plenty of things in this world that you can't change. In fact, here you are, struggling, resisting, and yet you still can't match me. It’s pathetic.’

Due to the physical pain he feels or out of mere frustration, tears well in Ruggie’s eyes. But they, too, are quickly dried out.

Without a single change in his expression Leona turns to face the shocked and speechless Savanaclaw students.

‘If I tell you it's impossible, it is. Do not so much as think that there is potential,’ Leona threatens, inhaling a deep breath. ‘Throw away meaningless expectations! Dreams make me sick! You are to obediently obey!’

His voice now gentle, quietly he asks, 'Understood?

His grip on Ruggie’s neck loosens.

His toes now reaching the ground, Ruggie coughs and sputters.

Faced with such pressure—Leona implying that he will forgive them if they agree—the Savanaclaw students students struggle to respond. Even Riddle and the Heartslabyul students, as well as Lilia and Diasomnia, all hold their breaths without saying a word.

Breaking the strained silence, Ruggie finally speaks up in his now hoarse voice.

‘No…’ Ruggie’s voice trembles, and Leona frowns.

‘What?’

‘My...dream…’ His body battered and the pain easily read upon his face, Ruggie still raises his voice.

‘I will…work my way up…!’

Ruggie cries out with everything he has, the sound echoing across the wasteland. It isn't particularly powerful. It lacks any real force, a feeble voice that can easily be blown away.

And yet, it carries an unsettling determination.

Ruggie’s large eyes hold a ferocious light that seems capable of seizing a lion's throat on its own. The greediness of an animal that would never relinquish its prey, even in death, overflows from his blue-grey eyes.

He leaves them all dumbfounded, to the point that everyone forgets what exactly is happening around them.

Ruggie is still seized by his neck. But despite this immediate danger, there is still something that he hasn’t given up on obtaining.

When Yuuya looks at him, he sees a bundle of pure life force.

Looking back, even Riddle has struggled to deal with Ruggie’s tenacity. No matter the person or the magic there is surely nothing that can ever drive him to despair.

The mere sight of him ignites Leona's anger.

‘Hey. Think carefully before you speak,’ Leona’s unusually calm voice is especially chilling.

Ruggie’s shoulders give a slight shiver.

‘This is how far you’ll go to hold onto an unattainable dream? Is it something more precious than life itself? I find it hard to believe that you, of all people, would be so poor at weighing cost against benefit.’

Leona's grip on Ruggie’s neck tightens, once again.

Much quicker than before small wrinkles, like cracks, climb up Ruggie’s chin.”

#twstfacts #twisted wonderland #twstnovel2 #Leona Kingscholar

[sugurufic]

What are your thoughts on the reader and teen nanami attending an improv comedy show…

Oh this is so interesting! I am not funny, like at all, so please don't judge my terrible jokes T^T as always, its not proofread

Nanami, Haibara and you had a lot of fun planned for the weekend, but Haibara had to return home to his family. His sister had gotten a bad fever and he was worried sick about her.

So you and Nanami still went about the plans, going to the mall for some shopping and to the city center to eat, and then return to your respective dorms. The two of you hadn't hung out much without Haibara, his absence weighing you down. With Haibara it was easy to ignore how Nanami's presence made you feel, but now it was practically impossible, with him walking beside you in the mall, dressed in normie clothes.

"Hey ma'am, hey sir!" an attendant at the mall greeted you cheerfully. "We have a free of cost improv comedy session going on, would you care to join us?"

You have always loved improv comedy, watching videos on the internet, but you've never seen one in person. Besides, how bad could it get? It's not like you were wasting any money this way.

"Nanami, can we go, please?" you plead, batting your eyelashes at the blond man, who doesn't even argue.

"Thank you for joining us!" the attendant yells behind you.

"I really hope that it doesn't turn out to be a waste of time," Nanami says as you sit beside him. The room still has some empty seats, but it's a great news that there are people to see a new comedian.

"I don't think it will be," you say, scooting a little closer to him as the air conditioning sent a shiver under your skin.

The empty seats fill up quickly, and the lights are dimmed, waiting for the comedian to take the stage. You are unfamiliar with the man who comes on the stage, viewing his audience with a smile on his face. "Hey everyone! Thank you for being here. You really are helping me convince my parents that maybe I can pull this comedy thing off," He starts of with a jolly voice. "You know, after I wasted four years of my life on an engineering degree."

You chuckle, having heard something similar from plenty of comedians. the man looks over his audience, eyes flickering to a stop to someone on the other end of the room. "Oh, I have a young crowd with me. I really hope you don't get influenced by me. it's not my fault if your mum slaps you with a slipper for not wanting to go to college."

"How old even are you?" he asks the same person. "That young! Now I will feel guilty about making the jokes I had planned." The man shakes his head. "Anyways, you know I am not entirely upset that i did college. I now have more things to make jokes about. Anyone who did CS and now everyone is suddenly asking them to fix computers?"

A surprising number of people raise their hands, and you chuckle once again. Nanami fixes his bangs beside you, trying to hide his rolling eyes. But you know him too well to know what he's doing.

"My parents forbade from speaking to the opposite gender all throughout school. And now that I'm an engineer by degree, they want me to get married." He sighs. "You are too young to understand this. How many of you have partners?" a good number of people raised their hands. "And how many of parent's know?" most hands went down.

The comedian's eyes fall on the pair of you and he asks Nanami, "Hey, blond guy! Is that pretty lady your girlfriend?"

Your face heats up and you can barely look at Nanami, who has gone pink. "N-No," he manages to say.

"Your face tells me otherwise," the comedian laughs. "For those of you who cannot see, Mr. Blond Guy has turned red. The lady seems flustered too. You two did come together, right? Or did I just embarrass two strangers sitting next to each other."

"We go to the same school," You manage to say, despite your flustered state. "And we're friends."

"Miss, maybe you should ask blond guy. He seems very shy." the comedian chuckles.

"I don't think I'm her type," Nanami mumbles in a small voice, and you give him the biggest side eye you have ever given to anyone.

"Judging by the lady's reaction, I'd say you are wrong, buddy." the man laughs. "See people, please tell your friends I helped set up a relationship. If any of your friends need a wingman, please join me on my next shows."

When you leave the mall, you walk together in silence, not even getting the courage to look at him. But you bite down your fears and say, "What gave you the impression that you aren't my type?" You still don't look at him, but your hands are in front of you, trying to grasp the air. "Because then I'd have to fix that. You are exactly my type."

Oh no, you think. You may have spoken to much. "Please ignore what I just said if you don't like me back."

"I do," Nanami softy says, and you whip you head towards him, seeing a rare smile on his face. His cheeks are still dusted a light shade of pink and he looks so cute you could kiss him. "I never thought you could like me like that."

"OH you blind man," you sigh, intertwining your fingers when his hand reaches for yours. "Let's just do this again later, okay?"

"Okay," Nanami says, the smile not leaving his face.

#nanami kento x reader #nanami x reader #jjk x reader

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

I would like to request something for cotl

A follower Leshy with a reader who is kind of a plant worm like him but they're always covered in flowers and herbs that can be used for medicine, like, it grows out of them and they give the flowers and herbs to lamb as their way of helping in the cult among other simple tasks.

"Hello [y/n], may I have some-"

"NO!! They're busy, stupid Lamb!" Leshy snarled, turning his head in the direction of his "leader's" voice, wishing he could scowl at them. "If you want camellia, go find them in the land you robbed from-!!"

"Leshy, it's okay. What do you need, Great Leader?"

"....what..?"

Your fellow bagworm was dumbfounded as Lamb calmly requested some mint leaves from you. Nodding, you carefully plucked some of the freshly-grown herbs from your arm and handed a bunch to them.

They graciously thanked you, saying it'll be an excellent ingredient in the tea they wanted to brew, before walking away.

Leshy, on the other hand, was displeased at your actions.

While you were both the same species, you had a unique magical ability that allowed you to grow flowers, herbs, and many other plant-based resources from your own body.

They were painless to pluck off when they've fully sprouted, and quite frankly...it's better that you did so during that time.

Otherwise, you'd constantly be weighed down and unable to see where you were going..

You were once Leshy's follower, the head of medicinal operations in Darkwood, so he was understandably furious when he arrived and saw you here in the cult as well.

He firmly believes that Lamb "stole" you to abuse you as a resource, rather than treat you like a person.

Yet when he pointed this out, you simply laughed.

But he was dead serious.

"Stop laughing! You can be honest with your former leader. Admit it...you're tired of them taking and taking from you!"

"Oh Leshy, that's complete and utter nonsense." You shook your head. "Lamb has never once taken any flower or herb from me by force. I'm giving them away out of my own volition. Darkwood grows more dangerous everyday, so why should they risk they safety to gather camellia when they can just ask me for some?"

He scoffed in response. "At least put a price on your flowers if you're just going to give them away all the time.."

You were about to respond to him, when you saw one follower approaching you. They seemed to be blushing, eyes shifting around to ensure the coast was clear before speaking to you.

"[Y/n]? Sorry to interrupt, but I..I-I think I'm in love with someone!" They stammered, hiding their face in their hands for a moment, looking back up at you. "But they don't know I exist....may I please have some flowers to woo them with?"

Leshy was silent as he glanced in your direction, wondering if you were going to take his advice.

"Sure! But it'll cost you.."

He quietly snickered, seeing the follower looking quite nervous as they started fishing for change in their robe pockets.

"....just kidding, my friend. Lucky for you I've grown a bunch here." With some small clippers, you trimmed the bottoms of the camelia stems, gathering about four of them before handing them all to the follower. "Be sure to tie them into a bouquet so they don't get lost to the wind." You winked. "Best of luck to you."

"Oh thank you! Thank you!! I shan't forget this!" They squealed in joy, a bright grin on their face as they hugged you for a few quick seconds.

Then, with the flowers clutched closely to their chest, they dashed off to bequeath this gift to their crush.

"Unbelievable."

"Leshy, that's enough." With a frown, you turned to the ex-bishop, growing a tad bit annoyed with his whiny attitude. Since you were both on an equal plane now, you could talk back to him without fearing any consequences. "You're acting like you're the one growing flowers out of your head. Why does this bother you so much?"

"....it just..does, alright? But if you're okay with being a walking garden for all these unworthy morsels-"

"I am very content with my role here, thank you very much." You smiled politely, wanting this conversation to be over with. "Now, don't you have a morgue to attend to?"

"That's my brother's job.." He grumbled, glancing over at the pit of corpses, shuddering. "Damn him for going on a "spiritual journey" at this hour. I may be the youngest, but at least I don't run away from my responsibilities!"

"Right. So...what's stopping you from going over there? Those bodies aren't doing any good lying in that pit.."

"Have you been over there recently? It reeks." Leshy shuddered in disgust. "I can't go anywhere near that pit of rot. The smell alone makes me wanna vomit.."

"Then...would it help if I planted some roses around it to absorb the stench?"

He did a double-take. "Huh?? Since when did you grow roses???"

"Just recently." You chuckled softly, holding up your arm so he could see the blood-red rose buried in your leafy exterior. "I've followed you for years, Leshy, and yet..somehow I keep surprising you."

"You sure do." Sighing, he smiled a bit and decided to accompany you to the morgue, hoping your roses would do a good job masking the awful smells.

Even though he knew exactly where it was, he ended up holding onto your arm as you both walked.

Until now, Leshy never noticed how lovely you smelled, surrounded by aromas that weren't too overwhelming for him at all. If anything..it felt rather comforting.

He couldn't even scent the dead bodies anymore--there was only you and your beautiful flowers.

It seems Lamb's cult allowed you to tap into your full plant magic potential.

#clanask #anonymous #cotl x reader #cult of the lamb x reader #follower leshy #cotl leshy #leshy x reader #platonic

[seat-safety-switch]

Remote controlled cars are a lot of fun, even if you're also into regular cars. Unlike their larger brethren, you don't need complicated legal entanglements like "insurance" or "roadworthiness inspections" to drive them. A vibrant community full of other weirdos who are also constantly breaking little plastic control arms is on offer. You'll make life-long friends and lure each other into spending thousands of dollars on toys.

It's that cost which bothers me. You see, I already spend enough money on cars. And I'm not especially easy on the equipment. When it comes down to having a functioning car that can get me to work, or a tiny plastic car that's fun, unfortunately the big metal thing is going to win every single time. How else will I make money with which to spend on the tiny plastic car? It was a real dilemma. Bowing out of the third shrunken-shitbox race event in a row because of cashflow problems had been weighing on my conscience. What would the other money-wasting folks think about my reticence to enter into insane amounts of debt?

I decided that I would try to cobble together something, anything, out of my pile of scraps. The same three things always break on RC cars, though, so I was not able to produce a complete car. By then, as if through a miracle, the multiple coffees and semi-legal convenience-store trucker stimulants had kicked in, and I was able to open my third eye to allow the solution to my problem to manifest. Or so my lawyer will tell you. He's big on exploring the limits of religious freedoms lately. I had lots of broken metal cars lying around the property, and there was no explicit rule in the local RC car club that all cars needed to be the same scale in order to compete.

Well, I'd like to tell you that I won first with my 1:1-scale remote-controlled Ford Econoline, but I didn't. Some of those little lipo buggies are fast as all hell, and avoided getting crushed beneath my wheels. Plus, it's hard to gauge how close you are to rolling the van when you're not driving it yourself. By the time we had gotten a bumper jack under it to move the wreckage back off of the vendor stand, it was too late for any more heats of the race. I'll be back next year, though. My neighbour left out a Fisher-Price Cozy Coupe in his alley. Bet that thing weighs way less.

[otdiaftg]

"That's why you bet on Andrew and Renee," Neil says, because he couldn't, wouldn't, think about Andrew right now. "Well, yeah," Matt says. "For a while there Renee was the only one outside of his little group Andrew would talk to. Renee said they had a lot in common and it was nothing serious, but then he let her drive his car. That's a GS, Neil. You don't loan that out to just anyone."

Neil waved a hand over his head to show the significance passing him by. "I don't speak cars." "I'm saying after he finished tricking it out, it cost almost six figures," Matt said. Neil bolted upright and twisted around to stare at Matt. "Cost what?" He knew Andrew blew most of Tilda's life insurance on it; Nicky once joked that Andrew picked whichever one would eat the inheritance up fastest. Neil hadn't asked how much money they made off her death but he'd known just by looking at the car it'd been a colossal waste of resources. Having a ballpark figure made Neil feel ill. His key ring suddenly weighed a ton and it was all he could do to not pull it out of his pocket. "It's almost as expensive as Allison's Porsche," Matt said, "and he let Renee drive it just two months after meeting her. Do you blame me for putting money on them? Man, I was so sure that'd pan out." The past tense was enough to distract Neil. "You changed your mind?" "Sort of," Matt said. "But rules are rules. Once money's in the pot, you can't change which side you're betting on. You can bet against it in other pots, though, so I might make some of my money back. But hell, it's already after twelve. We gotta get moving. You want anything for the plane, I suggest you grab it now." He was gone before Neil could ask what changed Matt's mind about Renee's chances.

Day: Friday, January 12th Time: 12:05 PM EST

#aftg #all for the game #neil josten #tkm #the kings men #the foxhole court #andrew minyard #palmetto state university #psu foxes #andreil #on this day in aftg #otdiaftg #palmetto state foxes #otdi all for the game #nora sakavic #the foxes #on this day in all for the game #kevin day #nicky hemmick #aaron minyard #coach wymack #betsy dobson #abby winfield #matt boyd #dan wilds #renee walker #allison reynolds

[blorbologist]

I AM HERE WITH A 🌟🌟 TO HEAR ABOUT SOMETHING YOU'VE BEEN DYING TO GUSH ABOUT IN YOUR WRITINGS.

EXANDRIAN 👏 WEDDING 👏 CELEBRATION👏 WORLDBUILDING👏

- Wedding rings convergently evolved in a lot of contexts due to some divine events/recurrences (ex: halos of some aasimar and divine casters). Though how they're used varies (some cultures have many, with rings being added as the couple has children or for other life events; some wear them in their hair or as body piercings; some insist the couple or someone close to them make the rings themselves; sometimes they're made as a chain that's ceremonially broken during the wedding and reforged).

- I love the common HC that elven weddings involve ceremonial knots and rope/string tying the couple together! Drow use white-silver threads (heated debate rage as to if this is nods to Loloth or the Luxon in the Dynasty), wood elves will use plant-based fibers grown from each family's land/plants that grow near their home, and all elves will use fancier material to indicate wealth. A common practice for half-elves, especially from societies where they’re more common and can share this knowledge, is to intersperse the weaving and knots with rings, or save the threads to make into necklaces or armbands.

- many Ashari wedding practices (a little different for each tribe) have their roots in Drashari & Age of Arcanum customs that survived. For Zephrah in particular, I like the idea of the couple writing their vows, folding the paper into a bird or flower or something specific to Them (Vaxleth would 100% do a raven) and sending it flying from the cliffs. I'm undecided if they're supposed to use wind spells/cantrips to keep them aloft or trust in the air to carry them and their hopes for the relationship. (The people living downwind think it's good luck to catch Ashari wedding vows, and sometimes make the trek up to return them to the happy couple.) They don't know this is adapted from the spell kites of Cathmoíra.

- Several parts of Wildemount include planting something Important as part of the ceremony. Either something that will grow (a tree, a vital crop, a favorite flower) or not (a memory capsule, an offering, or something meant to decay). If the planting doesn't go well, or if the plant/burried thing gets damaged down the line, it's seen as a terrible omen. Couples living in cities will keep theirs on windowsills or roofs to ensure they get enough light, and it’s a common source of gossip if a neighbor's plant is unwell or if the pot of soil tips during a storm, spilling out the gifts within.

- I've thought. So much. About Whitestone weddings. The city-state was very isolated for years, so their practices are very tailored to their home. Laurels are made out of the Sun Tree's shed leaves, which are also scattered around their feet. Weddings are usually held at dawn or midday for Pelor reasons, and the rings are weighed in scales blessed by Erathis to ensure the partnership is equal. The ceremony is usually held in front of the Sun Tree, and if the couple is very lucky or of high status a fallen bough will be brought with them into their marital home to keep them safe and blessed by its shade (and it's meant to be burnt as firewood should they face a challenge they feel they can't surmount, be it a terrible winter or awful fight). Most couples only get a twig or small branch though. Actually, you'll see soon ;3

- Vex's wedding ring is 100% forged from melted down gold pieces from her own person. Because there's a chance, however small, that one or two pieces used were among those Percy gave her when they first met. Percy includes some residuum in his, partially because he wanted to make sure their rings could both be used as Resurrection components should anything happen... and partially because he still remembers the Sunken Tomb and how his offering of residuum then was not accepted. He doesn’t want to forget what his mistake cost them, a reminder to be careful (what if he had succeeded? would Vax not have - then he might - fuck.).

#critical role #perc'ahlia #percahlia #vaxleth #campaign 1 #campaign 2 #cr headcanons

[bonefall]

Could you give us a run down of what the leaders were like in shadowclan from marshstar on? I feel like we have a good idea of the thunder clan leaders but not the others

The succession of leaders in BB!ShadowClan is Marshstar, Houndstar, Cedarstar, Raggedstar, Brokenstar, and from Nightstar on you know the drama. Ragged and Broken will get covered in 'Brokenstar's Cataclysm' eventually.

Marshstar

Was Ripplestar's lover and deputy. Survived the disastrous defeat at the Gathering.

With their ambitions to bring SkyClan back dead, Marsh had to focus his attention on his Clan. They lost a lot of warriors...

But, some of the rebels of other Clans had been exiled, so there was a small boost in population.

ShadowClan developed its "reputation" in the Ripple Era, of being cold and cruel hearted. They were attacked a lot and became notoriously aggressive at defending their borders as a result.

He wasn't a 'happy' person. Always a bit forlorn and defeated.

Really did not like being a leader in these circumstances. His warriors didn't usually feel comfortable approaching him, you could tell he did not want to be in this situation.

Eventually, he picked Houdfang as his deputy. Houndfang was extremely aggressive, but not ambitious. Marshstar wanted to leave a leader after him who would be strong, forceful, and defend the Clan ruthlessly.

When he died, he was buried beside Ripplestar. ShadowClan has a complicated relationship to their legacy, their graves are far out of the way in the Forest Territory, and overgrown.

Marshstar sat through about half of their StarClan trial, but quickly grew annoyed. He hated this game of being interrogated, questioned for his sins, his life being weighed. Like... screw you people, "I can already see that Ripplestar and Spottedpelt aren't with you so why should I care about this? Thank you for your time, this is a waste of mine."

In terms of personality, Marshstar is soft-spoken but tired. He can be a pessimist or a realist depending on his mood.

As part of the Dark Forest crew, Marshstar is usually tagging along with Ripplestar's clique.

Houndstar

They weren't lying that Hound can Star

He was BRUTAL. He was always skirting just around the edge of the code, he "encouraged" disproportionate violence against attackers.

His punishments for violating the code against killing was light and his punishments for violating the Law of Loyalty were heavy.

During Darkstar's Commandment, Houndstar took Oakstar's side at first. It seemed like a foolish dream, and the fact this would put an end to kitten stealing seemed odd. Yes, he'd seen kits stolen from his Clan, but he'd stolen from others equally. Challenging each other for resources is what warriors do.

However, he turned around on it before Oakstar did. Houndstar was still a pious cat, with much faith in StarClan. If Darkstar had been given a commandment, he trusted her. Three kits dead was a heavy cost.

He believed very strongly in the idea of legacy and was very close with his children. I'm planning for him to have at least two litters; BATEAR might be in the oldest one, Mousewing was in the younger and was never able to meet her brother.

I might hit this character with the Woman Beam

Cedarstar

Wasn't actually very violent. He was a logistics guy. Fantastic deputy.

Not even half as peaceful as Pinestar, but they vibed. Did a fair amount of trading, particularly flax for leather. Cedar chips as well, as the only cedar in the territory is planted by Carrionplace.

I think Cedar had some corny satisfaction in being The Cedarbringer. He was a bit of a nerd.

DON'T mistake this for nonaggression though, Cedar was just as willing to push borders as any other leader.

His deputy, Stonetooth, is his dad. He chose him for his age and wisdom. Cedar also definitely had kids of his own, I'm planning for this family to have been pretty big at some point.

When Heatherstar took power and started their campaign to take the Mothermouth Moorland, Cedar rose to the challenge. The conflict was standard at first

But as it dragged on, as ShadowClan stopped having access to flax and was losing their important summer hunting grounds, it stopped being the normal amount of inter-Clan violence.

The battles got larger and bloodier with each season

The war drained his lives away. Though he'd overseen the gentler years of the Campaign Era, the stress had caused him to lose weight and turn gray before the end.

He passed on the baton to Raggedstar, commanding that he never let WindClan take their territory from them. At first, Raggedstar agreed wholeheartedly, ready to win the conflict for ShadowClan.

#BB!ShadowClan #Better bones au #Cedar will probably get a few moments in Pinestar's Crusade since he is an ally of Pinestar