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#thank u all for waiting for me and missing me

churipu · 23 hours

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Hellooo! I saw ur reqs wer open and I wanted to know if its oknif ok if u can write abt the jjk men being their for their gf's performance/exhibit for school or work when their family or friends can't make it?

(I love how how the way you write them as well! I found u through the nanami oneshot and I've just been on ur masterlist reading through all of ur fics and drabbles, esp now with me going through the same thing as above 💛)

𝐒𝐎𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐄 𝐈𝐍 𝐀𝐑𝐓 .ᐟ

❪ jjk men showing up in your art exhibition when nobody did ❫

────── 𝕴 . featuring. gojo satoru, nanami kento, itadori yuuji x fem! reader

────── 𝕴 . warnings. none :)

note. hi nonnie :( thank you so much for the love, i'm so sorry for the delay, i'm so sorry that happened to you. i'm 100% sure whatever you were presenting to everyone was awesome! i love you <33

𝜗𝜚 . GOJO SATORU

gojo has received your heads up regarding an art exhibit a week prior. he'd notice the way you've been very very excited about having your art work presented for people to see. and he's happy to see you happy.

he made it extra clear he wanted nothing with the jujutsu world the day your exhibit was held — all he wanted was a nice and peaceful day to spend with his partner. gojo woke up extra early to send you off, helping you get ready.

the way your smile lit up his morning, he couldn't even get back to sleep right after, seeing how happy you are with today. gojo can't even wait for the time to struck twelve for the exhibition opening, and so he got there an hour early.

he was silent with his movements, a beautiful bouquet of flowers in his grasp as he paced around the crowded area — blue eyes averting everywhere to look for you. with his height, finding you wasn't too hard for him.

pushing through oceans of humans, he stood right in front of you. the solemn look on your face doesn't go unnoticed, "hi, baby."

you look up to see him and crack a smile, "you came."

gojo grins down at you, "of course i did, can't miss my girl's exhibition, can i?" his large hand covered the top of your head, "why the frown? are you not happy to see me?"

chuckling, you shake your head, "no. my parents couldn't make it, they were too busy with work."

and you were so excited to show them your art work too. gojo didn't forget the way you rambled on about how your parents were going to love it — especially when it was dedicated to them. and they butchered it up by choosing work over you.

this time, gojo frowns along with you, "they didn't show up?"

with a shake of your head, gojo pulls you into his embrace, "i'm sorry that happened, show me everything? i arrived here an hour ago to see you, you know?"

"one hour? so early and for what?"

"to see you, silly. i couldn't wait to see all your works," he pressed his lips onto your forehead, "and this is for my beautiful girl."

he handed you the bouquet and laced his fingers with yours, "let's get some food after this? it's a date."

"it's a date!" you smiled, no longer feeling upset.

𝜗𝜚 . NANAMI KENTO

people always tell you to never get excited over small things, but you couldn't help it — the slightest things made you really happy, but at the same time, the slightest things made you sad as well.

i'm sorry, can't come to the exhibit. something came up, i'll try to swing by next time y/n! maybe next year? sorry :(

you read the text over and over again. this should be fine, (friend) was probably just busy with their day so they couldn't drop by — no matter how hard you try to convince yourself that it was fine. you didn't feel like it. they promised.

"i'm sorry i'm late, y/n."

turning around to look at the source of the voice, there stood your boyfriend. sweat dribbling down the side of his face, hair disheveled with shallow and rapid breaths. he looked like he just ran a marathon.

"kento? i thought you couldn't make it—"

nanami shook his head, "i made time for you, i will always make time for you," he gave you a small smile.

"you're not late, just in time actually," you switched your phone off, shoving it inside the back pocket of your jeans, "thank you for coming for me."

he wiped his sweat, standing up straight, stepping towards you, "where are your friends? they should be here now, are they not?"

the corner of your lips tugged downwards. it was embarrassing as it is, and now you had to tell him that they weren't coming. it's like a slap to the face, "um . . . they aren't coming. something came up, and i guess they couldn't come."

nanami's eyebrows twitched slightly, but he said nothing. his hand reached out for yours, giving it a slight squeeze, "spend the rest of your day with me?"

you blinked, "how about work?"

"don't worry about my work, you come first, understood?" he brushed his fingers through your hair, pulling you in for a brief kiss.

𝜗𝜚 . ITADORI YUUJI

maybe the fact that your parents were workaholics made you a better person. maybe the fact that your parents were workaholics pushed you to do better — like a cry for attention. but for some apparent reason, they never seemed to be satisfied with what you're doing.

"art brings you no good, what are you going to be? an artist? do you know how much they earn a year?"

don't be an artist this. don't be an artist that. it was pretty expected that your invitation for them was discarded with no thoughts behind. hell, they didn't even spare it a glance.

and yet, the little girl in you still hoped that they'd show up — even just for a while.

they didn't, it should be obvious. you saw it coming, but it still hurts anyways. however, itadori yuuji showed up; and he was like a ball of sunshine, so you couldn't help but to be happy as well. especially with how packed his schedule is, he still made the time to stop by.

"baby!"

"yuuji!"

he wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you into a tight hug, carrying you around with ease, "sorry i came a little late, kugisaki needed me to bring her shopping bags back to the cab. where are your parents? they should be here, right?"

right. they should have.

"no, they didn't come," you murmured into the crook of his neck before pulling your head back with a sad smile plastered to your face, "but i'm okay, you're here now!"

yuuji puckered his lips out slightly, "i'm going to pester gojo-sensei to let me off for the rest of the day, i need to be here with you."

you shake your head, "you can't, what if you have a mission?"

"fushiguro can take over, pretty. don't worry about my missions," yuuji replied, nuzzling his nose to the side of your face, "plus, how can i leave you alone here, huh?"

"you're the sweetest, yuuji. but what if it's an important mission?" you pinched his cheeks gently, pulling them.

"fushiguro can take over, he's strong. and there's kugisaki, and the second year students. they'll manage," he retorted, pecking your cheek before letting you down.

"you're too nice, yuuji."

"i love you. and show me your works, i can't wait to see them, you know? kugisaki wanted pictures!"

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk #jjk fluff #jujutsu kaisen fluff #fluff #gojo satoru #gojo fluff #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #nanami kento #nanami fluff #nanami kento x reader #nanami x reader #itadori yuuji #itadori fluff #itadori yuuji x reader #itadori x reader

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tremendum · 21 hours

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Me and the Devil; i

(not my gif) .·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·..·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·..·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·..·: Paul Atreides x fem!reader prelude next

word count: 5.3k

summary: Destruction: the only thing you and Feyd-Rautha may have ever had in common. Unfortunately, you endured. You learned how to live with the Harkonnens, to be one of them- and with a clip of fear, you worry you may never be able to unlearn.

warnings: blood/violence, family deaath, v brief allusions to smut/dubcon, reader is traumatized. pls lmk if i missed anything. not edited.

notes: thanks for all the love so far!!! here's the first chapter of the story - if you want to stay updated, i post on AO3 first :) just a quick first chapter to lay the scene before we jump into the engaging parts of the story. feedback is very motivating and highly valued, thank u all <33

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Penitent Crimes of Retaliation

In accordance with the legal doctrine of the 'Reprisal Accord', as sanctioned by the High Court of the Landsraad, houses are granted the right to retaliate against proven offenses committed upon them. This action shall such be labelled as "Penitent Crimes of Retaliation". Under this mandate, should sufficient evidence be presented, the aggrieved house may initiate a retaliatory strike and engage in warfare against the offending party. While reparations for damages incurred during the conflict are mandated, perpetrators shall be exempt from criminal sentences, ensuring a balanced recourse within the framework of inter-house disputes."

- From the Reprisal Accord, Office of the Padishah Emperor. Imperium, 10041.

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There was once a time when green was your favorite color.

You'd enjoyed a childhood of it; Peridot, Jades, the velvet green of winter dresses, the tall, mighty green the sacred Pine. The woven banner of your house, waving in the snow-whipped wind; A snarling green wolf upon the grey armor your parents wore to train you.

When the men of one other Houses Major arrived to retrieve your older sister, she'd been shroud in that very same pine-colored satin, an elegant dress, as she waved good-bye to you for the last time. When the ice would melt off the lower glaciers for those three months every year, the lakes would thaw to a deep emerald green, and your brother, sisters and you would play in it; servants and soldiers alike yelling and pulling you out, shivering to your bones.

Even at your sister's funeral. The green of the casket, laid to rest in the ground of a foreign planet by a man who'd never truly loved her. The women of your House, wearing a veil of mourning in that sacred pine satin as you said good-bye to her. Killed by the birth of her first; a son. Your parents had been proud - You became the oldest of your siblings that day.

You can barely stand to look at green anymore. No, instead, you mostly see black.

Black, white, and red.

They'd sent you away to make for your house a Fortune; a son, they'd wished, for your sake - and, by whispers of your Lady Mother, a daughter - but this place... it crawls with shadows and monsters and deadly smiles; most in the form of your betrothed.

Your na-Baron.

If Feyd-Rautha ever had a semblance of hesitancy, it was when you first met four years ago. You were at the end of your seventeenth year; he, freshly eighteen. He had been as cordial as you'd ever seen him, escorting you with an arm held out, eyes malicious but mouth less than offensive. He'd even called you Lady Bourbon those first few months on Giedi Prime. And, in fact, you can consider yourself lucky; perhaps for your bloodline, or for you yourself, Feyd-Rautha took special care of you. Maybe he did care for you -in the ways that he could.

After that, he taught you all you needed to know about the rest of the world. In these final days together, he has admitted furiously that he waited too long to claim you as his wife - four years was much too long for you to wait, even if your purity was claimed by him long before then.

The accusations had come from his uncle, the Baron; House Bourbon was stealing their precious refinery codes, committing treason against the trading accords along their exportation route. Perhaps, he thought, you were the one to plot it against your beloved future family.

But Feyd-Rautha knew better - knew that you'd never dare betray him. He was the one to demand a public execution of your family - but also the one to redirect your sentencing to a mere prisoner. As if you weren't one already.

Don't look away. See what we do to scum, my pet?

After all the sparring, each time you drew that precious blood from him, and you still haven't been able to kill him. If you'd had a blade, you would have, right there in the stands.

You were, in some ways, relieved when their bodies had hit the sand fast; You'd never seen your brother's skin so reflective as you did this morning. The black sun couldn't hide the blood that had seeped from him, nor from your mother's throat. You'd swallowed thickly, wishing you could look away, gasp - cry; but you had to hide your pain. Your na-Baron would've loved it too much.

Why don't you leave me with them, then? You'd hissed through your teeth.

Though he was wild and psychotic, growling with hunger at the bloodsport in front of him, he heard you for what you'd said. Feyd's fingers pulled your hair hard; forcing your chin to stare up at him. A sickly glint in the black sun, his teeth shone with hunger.

You'd have me throw you to your Wolves, and lose my prize? He'd tutted, kissing your forehead with a sickening sweetness; enough so that the servants had turned away their spider-black gazes. They didn't care much for the acts of affection you'd occasionally show one another - in a world marred by ugliness, any glimpse of beauty becomes a hauntingly grotesque show of power.

He'd snarled, slapping your cheek hard enough for you to groan. His breath hit your face, you're mine to keep - there's plenty of life left for you to serve.

He'd held your eyes open as they'd slit your father's throat; then both of your sisters, and your brother's. Your mother had fought as much as she could in her drugged state - the Harkonnens are rutheless, and Feyd-Rautha had sat calmly behind you, your head in his hands, caressing your shaking cheek - but the neckline of her gown was too high, and too thickly inlaid with encrusted heirlooms.

Bless their voided souls.

The emeralds that tore from her gown as she'd spilled her blood to the sand sent a ripple of pain out of your throat. Feyd had buried his face in your neck, teeth sharp as he sucked a mark just behind your ear, watching as you clenched your palms so hard, your own ruby blood beaded out, blackened in the sun's light.

If anybody would have bothered to look before burning the bodies, you know they'd find all the family diamonds sewn into the fabric of their clothing - centuries of your House, melted away.

Feyd-Rautha had drank up your agony with his lips, smiling as his hand wrapped around your throat.

Now, alone and away from the thick industrial air, your chambers are cold and suffocating.

There are screams coming from the hall - not the kind that you've grown to associate with your na-Baron testing his new blades, but the kind that comes with danger. With change.

As it turns out, you are not Feyd-Rautha's to keep any longer.

A loud noise outside of your quarters jolts you from your bed, whispering to yourself. They're coming for you. Pulling the sheets closer to your body, your hand finds the blade gifted to you on your nameday three years ago by your husband-to-be, still tainted with the ghost of your own blood.

Your whispers reverberate in the empty room. "I must not fear. fear is the mind-killer. fear is the little-death that brings total obliteration. I will face my fear. I will permit it to pass over me and through me."

Your voice shakes. Few things remain from your early days of training, before you were sent off to become a Harkonnen; This is one is a relic.

There is a loud noise just outside; blades.

For a moment, you imagine there is a hand on your arm. It is strong, ghost-white, and possessive. His voice rumbles in your head. Don't look so sad, my pet. I will never let them keep what is mine. I will find you again.

You almost wish he will.

When you look down to the weight on your arm, you do not find the hand of your once-betrothed, but the remainder of his ownership, a handprint of a bruise that will not fade even as the soldiers in Atreides armor deliver you to the next planet.

You rise from your bed, preparing your sore body for a fight that will surely end before it even starts. You don't stop your old prayer, in fact, you hardly notice that you're saying it at all. Even as the doors give in.

"-and when it has gone past I will turn the inner eye to see its path. Where the fear has gone there will be nothing - only I will remain-" There are soldiers that burst through.

The way one of them fights strikes a faint memory from a lost childhood, and it fills you with rage.

Why did you wait so long to rescue me?

You lunge, snarling like the wild beast you've become in your captivity. You will fight, because that is the only thing you know how to do. It is the only thing you have left.

Your blade falls within minutes.

You're taken by the man from your past not a minute after.

You're on a ship, watching the black Opiuchi B disappear, in an hour.

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"My Lady."

You don't realize the worker addresses you until you snap out of it, flushing behind your veil as you step out of the aircraft.

The dress you wear, salvaged from your family's old castle, is dusty.

It clings to your skin, drowns you, as the rain falls. A staff of House Atreides holds an umbrella above you, shielding your elaborate dress from the water as you walk up towards where the members of the House await you. You stare down at the dress - green velvet. A texture you have not felt in years; your skin looks different not wrapped completely in black.

Your eyes strain to take in the grand entrance to the castle from the hangar which Duncan Idaho had escorted you, ignoring him as he turns to glance back at you momentarily. You can't bear the look of unfamiliarity that flickers over him when he looks at you, now.

He looks the same - maybe less tall, but that has more to do with it having been six years since you last saw the man. You, however, are not the same girl you were when he knew you on Sabberon. Fear, panic, and wrath rage within you while your gaze smolders daggers at the back of his head.

He walks just slightly in front of you and despite yourself, you slide just a bit closer - the only semblance of comfort you can allow yourself to feel as you take in the largess of the castle. The air is thicker here than you've ever felt; salty, windy, like you can taste the sea in the rain... it clings to your skin, but it feels clean. You'd been changing into your robes when you entered atmo - you've heard many things about the ocean, about Caladan.

Something within you yearns to witness it yourself. Subtly, you crane your neck outwards to catch a glimpse; nothing in the near distance but the walls of the castle and high cliffs.

You nearly trip as Duncan Idaho stops just a few paces from where the members stand at attention to greet you and your retinue.

Duke Leto Atreides, regal and composed, stands at the center of the room, his presence commanding your attention. Beside him, a woman wearing a deep cerulean gown - Lady Jessica. Easily, from behind your own veil, her gaze penetrates you; A cool sensation down your spine as you seem to feel her words in the back of your head as she watches the Reverend Mother who'd travelled with you per High Court orders.

Hello, sister.

You purse your lips, looking on - there, next to his mother; Standing tall with an aura of quiet intensity, his eyes on you, is Paul Atreides.

The son to whom you're now destined.

Even from your obstructed vision, you can see that he's handsome - lithe, hair curled and combed back to show his eyes. They are wide, penetrating like his mother's, but Maker, they are so green.

There is no hunger in his eyes, nor hatred, nor anything but a mild curiosity; it strikes a chord of fear in your gut, wishing briefly to return to the na-Baron's sight. It was easy to go unseen with the Harkonnens; They always made their intentions clear, and the na-Baron never wanted many to see you besides himself. You always knew what he wanted, and you could give it to him enough to control him.

But Paul. His stare betrays no emotion but duty. If not for the boyish pout of his pink lips and his freshly-shaven jaw, you could have mistaken him for his father. A Duke.

Your name, boomed from the voice of Leto Atreides, pulls you back to the surface of Caladan. "Welcome." Duke Leto's voice resonates through the hall with authority as he addresses you, his tone measured yet warm. Your stomach twists and turns as the man nods courteously to you. Coaxing your body to move, you bow to him.

"We are honored by your presence." His voice is surprisingly humane, exceedingly polite towards you; someone who was just come from the protection (a laughable phrase) of their sworn enemy.

Your throat tightens at this. There is no honor to your presence, not anymore.

Though you feel the prickling behind your eyes, you force your head to tilt in acknowledgment, schooling your expression to respectful - perhaps they can't quite make out your face, but Lady Jessica watches closely. She sees.

You take a sharp breath, swallowing away the lump of emotion in your throat.

"Thank you, Duke Leto, my lord." Your voice carries steel beneath its polite, quiet veneer, though you try to calm your heart. You turn to Lady Jessica to greet her.

"My Lady, it is a pleasure." You say, equally even. Lady Jessica offers a tight smile, something akin to understanding swimming among her irises. It's been quite some time since you were permitted to talk to a woman; Your servants on Giedi Prime were, of course, tongue-less, as na-Baron wished. "Thank you for welcoming me to your home."

"We understand that these are trying times for you." She says softly, her words a gesture of solidarity as your legs stagger. You feel dizzy and tired, but you force yourself to nod, bowing again. Your chained headdress overlaying your veil chimes slightly with the movement, swaying with the rain.

For such an acclaimed House, you're surprised by the gentleness of their welcome. Perhaps, they'd thought that the groaning and echoing hallways of Giedi Prime might break you, that they'd be taking in some injured little dove, wings clipped by the ferocious boy who'd gifted her with a knife plunged between her ribs on her nameday.

The scar that lies just below your breast on your right side serves not as a reminder, but as fuel. It did not quell your spark. It ignited it, with a bloodthirsty rage for revenge.

Months of being thrown into a pit under the glaring black sun; Not the arena that assassinated your family, no - this pit was smaller, with one large seat for the na-Baron himself, and drugged concubines and servants with blades to service his na-Baroness. A place to watch his pets play.

Destruction: the only thing you and Feyd-Rautha may have ever had in common.

Unfortunately, you endured. You learned how to live with the Harkonnens, to be one of them- and with a clip of fear, you worry you may never be able to unlearn.

Lady Jessica is correct, these are trying times for you. You swallow as you straighten your back. Despite everything, there's a minor comfort in the Atreides' insistence of providing you with the necessities for you to perform your traditional customary mourning traditions. Your family may be gone, but you can still have this part of them; as a way of saying good-bye. It's what they would have wanted.

You turn to the young man who stands next to Lady Jessica.

The Harkonnens had tried to show you the dangers of house Atreides; The poison of appearance, of trust. You are not foolish enough to have believed the Baron Vladimir and his webs of deception, but you are sharp enough to know that in times like these, nobody can be trusted.

Your betrothed watches you, as if trying to see through your mourning veil. The green of his eyes sends a warmth through your stomach as you avert your eyes. "My Lord," you bow to him, your heart thumping in your chest, remembering how you might be rewarded for looking your formerly betrothed in the eyes during ceremony. Trying not to flinch, you wait to see what Paul's hands may do. But they do not strike you, nor grasp your jaw sharply. He barely moves.

"My Lady." His voice is softer than you expected, and it strikes your heart with a cool unease. Distrust slithers around you like a daunting snake. He bows back to you.

It's silent for a thick moment before Duncan Idaho - the man from a distant past - speaks from beside you. "We have much to discuss."

Cutting to the chase, as always. Your eyes fall to the Duke, who nods. "Do you need to see treatment?" He asks the Swordsman, eyes assessing the soldier.

Duncan laughs at this, gesturing to his arm, where beads of blood still slowly peeks through his the tunic he'd slipped on after changing out of his armor.

"Harkonnen blades are sharp. So are Lady Bourbon's nails."

The prickling of four pairs of eyes strike you as he continues, turning this time to address you full-on. "Your fighting is much different than I remember, Little Bourbon."

What he doesn't say is clear to you: Much more savage than he remembers. Something between shame and pride licks at your cheeks and you avert your eyes; It had been a force of habit - rabid hounds don't tuck tail when cornered, do they?

You clench your hand, your nails digging into your palms; you learned early on that sharper claws could keep Feyd tame for longer.

The force of Duncan's old nickname for you, when you'd been young - it nearly knocks the air out of your chest. It's been over half a decade since you'd seen the man; too much has happened since then. Nonetheless, you smile toothless behind the veil, trying not to think of the life you'd just left behind. Of what cold life lies ahead.

When you respond, your voice is frigid.

"Sometimes adaptation is survival, Duncan Idaho. Threats demand evolution."

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The rain is gone by the next day.

In the morning room, forks scrape over blue-plated China. There must be a clock somewhere near, as the seconds pass in quiet, insistent ticks. A cleared throat, a swallow of water.

Your eyes burn from exhaustion.

Your arrival last night held no such time for small talk - you were whisked away by the service staff to make sure your quarters were comfortable; Your old clothing and that of your sisters and mother - the few things the Atreides soldiers had salvaged from the ransacked Castle at Sabberon - had been washed thrice of rubble and smoke and were hanging, waiting for you, in the wardrobes.

Barely awake, late in the evening, you'd attended a meeting in a small conference hall. There, sat across from Lord Paul, Masters of War and Swords and Strategy, a Mentat, and the Lady Jessica, the Duke had asked you questions, ensuring you were not harmed - more importantly, trying to ensure there was no malicious intent to your presence. Your eyes could not ignore the Lady Jessica, who stood behind the Duke, her fingers twitching to the others when you responded to a question asked of you. They had some kind of language, you'd realized, as they responded in their own subtle hand gestures.

You'd only been there for ten minutes before you were escorted by a handmaid back to your chambers, where you sat without rest through the night.

Truthfully, you're breaking fast with Lady Jessica and Lord Paul out of courtesy; You were up far before the sun had found the horizon this morning, staring emotionless at the ghost who stood in the corner of your new chambers.

You'd sat watching, cradling your chest with wide eyes, as the ghost slid onto his knees. How he'd crawled, smirking at the foot of your mattress, whispering to you with sharp teeth and beckoning fingers. The sweet promise in his eyes laid with blood and pain, coaxing you forward despite yourself - until something in the corner of your vision moved, and you'd screamed.

That had woken one of the servants.

She came in with her head tilted down, holding a pitcher of water, and you'd asked her to stay.

Her name is Hestia; she must barely be twenty. You insisted on sharing a pot of tea with her, sitting in the silence but sipping shortly on your teacups. You didn't talk much, but instead breathed and felt the safety and of a woman's company, even if she is a few years younger than you.

It wasn't until she'd brought you breakfast a few minutes later that you realized the staff must have been informed of your courting customs before your arrival - she said nothing as you ate silently, staring out towards the coast of rocky cliffs and rolling moors you could just barely make out from your chamber windows.

And now you sit similarly - in the morning dining room, your hands perched in your lap, unsure what to do with yourself.

Your future husband, no older than yourself, sits across the table from you now, pushing his omelet around on his fork. The table shakes just slightly, jilting your glass full of water - he must have a restless knee. He chews at his lip, avoiding your stare, sharing slight conversation with his Lady mother. Her attempts to bring you into the conversation are met with polite answers and more silence, your voice shaky and cold.

After a while, a woman enters, whispers something to the Lady at the end of the table. Nodding, Lady Jessica takes her leave with a pointed look at Paul, suggesting he might escort you around the castle to settle you in.

Though your stomach coils, you nod, "-if you have time, my Lord, I'd appreciate it."

His eyes find yours from behind the veil and you clear your throat. He's quiet but chivalrous; A nod, a glance sent back to his mother as she leaves. A short gust of air through the room and suddenly you can smell him. His hair, clean and glossy - healthy - glints as he faces a window, exposing the early morning sun to his bright eyes.

It's silent for a few moments as only the two of you remain; Your food untouched and his half-eaten.

"Are you one of them?"

Them?

You stare at him from behind the thin pine veil that covers you. It occurs to you that Paul may assume you are just as bald and sick as each Harkonnen; years of adapting, surviving off of instinct and placation, are over. With a jolt, you realize you are not a Harkonnen. And you will not be wed to one.

You shake your head, thankful for the lack of chains upon the crown of your head today, ignoring the melancholy feeling in your gut.

"I have hair." You state simply, looking down at the skin of your arm; The skin that boasts arm hair, none of the sickly pale skin that knew of no clean air nor healthy sunlight - your skin, glowing with real melanin like the House of Bourbon.

You'd never spoken this freely on Giedi Prime besides in the sole company of Feyd-Rautha - stars, you'd never have spoken this freely at home on Sabberon, either - but there is no home anymore. And if you've learned one thing in your years since coming of age, its that the Great and Noble Houses of the Landsraad are crawling with perjurers, fabricators.

Paul is likely the same.

If the Atreides boy must be wed to you, you cannot help that, just as you couldn't help with Feyd-Rautha. They can dress you, insist in your traditional customs - but you will not go down easy. No matter how cold the home, you can be colder. You are more than the bones which hold you up; Meaner than the demons that kept you in their ghostly-grip for four years.

His cheeks flush a peculiar pink, bottom lip captured between pearly teeth. "No," he starts again, eyes searching - trying to find you, beneath the layers of green that wrap around you. "Not Harkonnen-" he quiets after he says the name, as if worried to offend you. "I meant-" his eyes swim, "Bene Gesserit."

Your stomach chills as you meet his eyes.

After some hesitation, you shake your head. "No, my Lord."

When he blinks at your words, you feel compelled to continue. "I suppose I was..." you move your hand to pull on the sleeve of your robes.

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·..·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·..·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·..·:

"or, I was supposed to be." your unemotional tone rings through the room. Paul doesn't say anything to that, biting back the suspicion that climbs up his throat.

He stands when you rise from your seat; Your mourning dress, unlike anything he'd ever seen before, flows like the leaves of a weeping willow as you push your chair in behind you. When he offers a stiff arm to escort you out of the room, you hesitate before looping yourself loosely to him.

She is telling the truth.

His mother had indicated, with flicks of her hand, during the meeting the evening before; you, sat before the Atreides' council, unaware that his mother was reading your honesty.

But that could be a trick; you've admitted to being partially trained in the ways of the Bene Gesserit, perhaps you found a way to deceive his mother. As much as he trusts Duncan and his father, he can't shake the suspicion that you're a mere pawn in the Harkonnens' game.

But his father's words burn sharply into his mind.

Duty often requires us to navigate paths we may not have chosen for ourselves, Paul. You may not always like her, but you will treat her with the respect and care befitting of a future spouse. Love may come in other ways - but you will marry her, and together you will sire an heir when the time comes.

By decree, it was ordered you be wed to Paul, but he can't find it within himself to lose the feeling of distrust. He has spent hours learning about the Harkonnens - how they think, their strategy; and yet, from Duncan's account, the Baron and his nephew just let you go. It makes no sense to him.

"I was supposed to be a lot of things."

Your voice is undeniably beautiful; strong, much more resolute than he'd expected. But you are extremely cold, and evidently unwilling. Polite, yes - it seems you've been trained just as he and every other young noble of the Great Houses have - but you are calculating, aggressive.

He saw the claw marks you'd left upon Duncan; a man you've known since you were a young girl.

You walk with your chest out, back straight like a soldier; your words are cordial yet laced with steel and indifference - it only serves to deepen his unease. He guides you through the castle, murmuring quietly as he shows you along, introducing you to various members of staff who stop and bow in recognition.

You don't say much until he escorts you to a path that winds down out of your sights; Below the castle, between jagged rocks, Paul finds himself concerned to no longer be surrounded by castle walls. Beside him, you take a deep breath, your footsteps faltering as you slow to stare at moss that sprawls across the cobblestone.

Curiously, Paul slows to a stop beside you.

For a moment, you stare down at the dirt and fallen tree limbs, the grassy fields and rocks. Soon, as though an invisible string pulls you upwards, you snap your head, voice sheepish behind your veil. "Apologies, my Lord." You start to turn away. "I've read of plants like this, but never seen them before in person."

Paul is suddenly struck by the realization that you may not have seen much of any flora nor fauna on Caladan. He knows what Giedi Prime is like; and your homeworld, from what he'd read last night before bed, was mostly full of Glaciers, forests, and high altitudes. Perhaps you are interested in such things; the idea surprises him.

So instead of moving along, he finds himself bending to pull off a bit of the moss from a fallen trunk. The earthy dirt spreads between his nimble fingers, the green bright against his skin. You watch him silently.

"It absorbs up to twenty times its dry weight in water." He says it quietly, repeating what he'd learned in an ecological lesson, pushing on the spongy material with his thumb. "Banks of it grow just around the brackish tidepools outside the castle."

Your interest, piqued, causes your head to crane slightly from your short height - he can tell, even without seeing any part of your face, that you are fascinated. "Am I allowed to see?" You ask stiffly, your arms by your sides.

An initial wave of protectiveness over his home washes over him; remembering his father's words, he forces his shoulders to relax. He lets the moss fall back to the stump, brows furrowing.

"You are to be Lady Atreides, one day." He tries to school his voice evenly, avoiding any hint of resistance to this fact. "You do not have to ask permission to see your own land."

The wind from the sea whips around you; his stray curls fly in his vision. There are no words from you for several very long breaths, in which you clear your throat.

"I do not feel well, my Lord." You say moments later, voice cordial but thick with the desire to be alone, "I believe I am sick from travel. Please, if you would excuse me."

He is unsure if he had made you uncomfortable or if you are truly feeling sick; nonetheless, Paul escorts you to your chambers silently, calling one of the handmaids - Hestia, her name is - to check on you. He insists she bring you some bread and cheese, to draw you a bath if you please.

His jaw clenches; he's to train with his mother soon, but he needs release. His muscles clench in repressed frustration and so Paul lets his feet carry him swiftly to the training quarters.

His fingers itch for a blade; his mind itches to forget about the last day, about the cold life that lies ahead of him.

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·..·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·..·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·..·:

follow @tremendumnotifs for updates.

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·..·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·..·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·..·:

#paul atreides x reader #paul atreides smut #paul atreides x you #paul atreides i need you so bad #feyd rautha smut #feyd rautha x reader #feyd x reader #me and the devil; series #feyd x you #feyd smut #dune fanfiction #dune smut

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sseniita · 2 days

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hi I really like the dumb blonde story! Will you write more of it? If not that's okay!

hsjdh

(also can you tag me if you do so I can see it?)

@wacko-weirdo sorry it took like a million years,,,, i had no idea what to write LOL , this one is for u my liege

i pledge allegiance to dumb blondes (2!)

part 1!

The villain didn’t know why he thought this would be easy. The hero was loud and attracted a lot of attention, not only to themself but to the villain as well. They would insist on keeping the other soldiers occupied with card games and nightcaps that kept them dizzy till morning which resulted in ten extra laps around the base during morning drills.

They complained about broken nails, needed 15 minutes to do their hair, insisted on a private bathroom and argued with authoritative figures, but worst of all, they seemed to take a liking to the villain. They had gotten comfortable far too quickly. Though they never had the pleasure of fighting each other on the field, the sparring practice late at night behind the cafeteria proved the villain was missing out. The hero wasn’t good to any extent- but they were fun.

To say the villain liked them was an overstatement. Perhaps saying the hero liked the villain was too. The villain could barely stomach when they showed up to breakfast practically shirtless, when they laughed at half-assed jokes, and returned lazy and suggestive compliments. But the villain liked them on the ground. Panting, bloody, covered in bruises and dirt. He liked it when they bounced back in a pathetic attempt to bring the villain down. He liked the way they’d try stalling by flirting, it was different when they did it with the villain as compared to the soldiers- it was malicious with intent.

“That was terrible.” The hero was on the ground, staining the cuff of their sleeve by cleaning the blood off their face. “Get up,” he demanded.

The villain grabbed them by the collar of their jumpsuit. The hero only chuckled.

“Ok. Ok. I’m up.” They rasped.

“It’s been a month. You haven’t gotten any better. You’re wasting my time, hero.” The hero grabbed the villain’s wrist that was still gripping tightly to their collar.

“Maybe I don’t wanna get better. Maybe I like the way you hit me.”

Despite himself, the villain was amused. The hero was anything but heroic. They'd make a terrible captain.

“You’re insane. I can’t wait to kill you.” The hero smiled at that- like it was the first real compliment they received since they arrived at the base. They got their footing and the villain let go. The hero feigned disappointment.

“There goes my plan to continue your rehabilitation,” they sighed "why continue training me then?"

“It’s more so for myself. It’d be boring if you died so quickly.” he turned to his jacket he’d disregarded when the fight was getting stuffy. "Besides, it's not like you're learning much of anything."

“I should kill you.”

The villain clicked their tongue. “Now, now. Heroes don’t kill, sweetheart.” Before he could reach for his jacket, a force threw him down. The villain had almost forgotten the feeling of panic-fueled adrenaline, like a shock through his body.

In less than the second the villain took to realize what was going on, the hero was straddling his hips and sending two punches (one for good measure) right to his jaw. The villain spit out blood and stopped struggling against their tight hold.

The fact that the hero of all people had managed to overpower the villain was a cold realization that sent shivers up the his spine; (that could have also been thanks to the hero's muscular thighs around them- but who's to say) they were getting sloppy. The villain was at ease where he should definitely not have been.

Having the hero as his pawn in the game was as sobering of a thought as having the hero being the only pawn in the game, his plan, his magnum opus.

The hero could very easily destroy the villain's plan and make him start from zero, but if he played his cards right- they were also the key to his victory. Ironically, it wasn't much better on the hero's side: the hero needed the villain for their own reasons. Both extremely vital, but useless, if not fatal, if uncooperative. The villain knew the hero knew this. This is to say who is in control here?

After hero caught their breath, their hands landed on the villain's chest, applying enough pressure to be considered a warning.

“I win.” They smiled. “I may not be strong, but if I’m good at something it’s looking for an opening.” their lips curled into something knowing, something taunting. "Opportunities come in all shapes and sizes." They patted the villain's chest, almost amicably.

“I noticed, all with how natural it is for you to get on top of someone."

"Thanks." they sneered. No venom.

They leaned down, their lips dangerously close to the shell of his ear.

“I know what your plan is. Trust me I won’t make it easy.” The villain only listened, coming to the exciting realization he was the hero's only pawn as well; no one was in control. And they had entered a complex mutually dependent situation. Perhaps the first for both of them. How romantic.

The villain turned his head, lips touching the hero's cheek as they whispered.

"Perhaps I’ll underestimate you when the time comes. But for now, you’re nothing more than a teenager whose daddy didn’t let play with the big kids.”

“Ohh, it’s going to be so much fun bringing you down”

“Oh, the most fun. But we have things to do before then, don’t we?”

The hero pulled their face up to stare at the villain. Neither one of them looked away as they glared daggers. The hero finally chuckled, breathlessly.

“You know what the other soldiers say about us?” The hero whispered, the electric tension immediately disappearing. They seemed to be good at that.

“Can you blame them? A popular hero and reformed villain sneak away in the middle of the night for hours.” The villain explained. “Bound to raise some eyebrows.”

“Imagine the drama when we become best of friends at Hero HQ, only for a heartbreaking betrayal.”

“You’ve always been a spectacle, Hero.” The hero finally got off the villain, lending a hand the villain accepted and didn’t let go of once they were both standing. “You seem ok. But something tells me you’re so much worse.”

“You’re a bad influence. And a wretched teacher.”

“Unfixable, some would say.”

“Clearly.”

#hero x villain #villain x hero #writing #original fiction #hero and villain #this isn't worth the wait LOL #i hate these guys #boooo #tomato tomato

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ilwonuu · 3 days

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saw ur posts and i really hope you're feeling okay now! if you feel like writing i wanna ask for some reqs where in the established relationship reader realized just how much jungwoo loves her bcs she's on her periode week and jw is taking care of her nicely without hesitating even adjusting his works and providing his help to accomplish reader's workload. thank you so much i really hope you're doing good and having a happy days ahead <3

thank you so much same for you:( i love this idea bc im always soft for jungwoo<3 thank you for requesting i hope you enjoy hehe,,,

honey

*๑♡՞ kim jungwoo

ᖗ pairing- established relationship, idolbf!jungwoo x fem!reader

ᖗ warnings- fluffy fluff , mentions of period pain/cramps, reader is not feeling great thru most of this, jungwoo is a sweetheart <3, he loves reader sm bye,,,,lmk if i missed something

ᖗ a/n- hi mls!!! i missed posting and i haven’t written for jungwoo in a while and i think he might be one of my biases,,,anyways i hope u guys enjoy<3 not proofread 😪

you have been rotting in your bed for hours. you asked your boyfriend to bring you some extra feminine products just incase. he was quick to respond to your text. he sent you a text saying he would be home soon with everything you need. you sighed in relief feeling so thankful for him. you cuddle up into your blankets as you wait for your boyfriend.

you watch whatever dumb dating show you had on earlier. your pain on the first day differs but this time is was painful as hell. you took some ibuprofen but it hasn’t started working yet leaving you to suffer. you hear the front door open making you smile to yourself. you see your boyfriend with a bag from the store.

“i asked you for a couple things- baby you didn’t have to get all this.” you sit up to face him as he brings the bag over to your side of the bed. “i know you did. i wanted to get your favorite snacks and some more stuff just to make sure you have it. i’m sorry you don’t feel good sweetheart.” he sits on the bed next to you. he pulls you into a gentle hug as he rubs your back.

“how was your day other than that? did you rest mostly?” he massages your back looking at you for your response. “it was good. i was missing you all day. i was just watching tv and cleaning a little but i gave up on the cleaning very fast.” you smile at him as he smiles back. “yea? i was missing you too. don’t worry about the cleaning i will take care of it all.” he rubs your cheek softly as you lay against his chest.

“how did you come home so early? i thought you had long schedules today?” the two of you move to lay down under the covers together. he pulls you close as he faces you. “yea i had meetings mostly but we got done like right before you texted me so i was quick to get you things.” his hand is resting against your hip as he gently massages your side. “you’re gonna put me to sleep baby.” you laugh as you close your eyes.

“come here.” he says pulling you to kiss him. you kiss him back quickly melting into the kiss. he holds your side gently as he kisses you softly. “i really missed you.” you pout looking at him. “i really missed you too, honey. you were all i was thinking about during my meetings.” he smiled at you again. he leans down to plant a kiss on your forehead.

“i love you.” you sigh at the cramps you feel. “rest honey. see if you can nap? i love you more.” he looks at you with a soft expression as he helps you get comfortable. he rubs your back softly until you fall asleep next to him. he just smiles as he watches you sleep peacefully.

jungwoo woke up early that next morning to make sure you had enough food. he made you your favorite breakfast when he saw that you were slowly stirring awake. you watched him bring in your breakfast as you fully wake up. your cramps already kicking you in the ass in the first few seconds of you being awake. you sigh at the feeling but smile at your boyfriend.

“you ok sweetheart?” he sets the food down on the side table as he climbs back into bed. you kiss his lips quickly as you climb out of bed to go to the bathroom. “i’m fine! don’t you worry.” you smile back at him as you quickly use the bathroom. you come to your bedroom feeling a little bit better as you crawl next to your boyfriend. “you didn’t have to make this for me. thank you- wait what time is it don’t you have dance practice today?” you ask as you start eating the breakfast he prepared for you.

“oh yea! i do i just told them i had my girl to spend time with. we pushed it to this afternoon so i can stay with you a little longer. then i can bring home dinner for us!” he smiles at you softly. “how are you feeling though? need medicine, water, anything you need i will get it.” he smiles to himself as he feels the need to help you without thinking about it for a second.

“i’m feeling okay today- my cramps are killing already but i think i just need to finish eating this and it’ll help. thank you baby.” you smile back at him as you continue to eat. “ok. let me know if that changes. as for now i’m here to give you love.” he kisses your head as rubs your thigh softly. you finish your breakfast after a bit with a smile. you look over at your boyfriend to see him already looking at you. you start to tear up as your thoughts start to clutter your head.

“baby? what’s wrong?” his expression is a more serious one as he pulls you closer to him. “n-nothing- i just- you’re being so nice to me. i feel so shitty and here you are making me feel so much better- cooking me breakfast? jungwoo you are too much.” you start to cry as he holds you in his arms. “sweetheart i will do absolutely everything for you. you are my main priority. i don’t need anything else but you. i will always be here when you don’t feel good.” he kisses your cheek as more tears fall from your eyes.

“honey- i love you so much okay? come here.” he pulls you closer to him as he kisses your lips. you kiss him back as you feel him pull away. he kisses your tears and gently wipes them away. “my pretty girl. i love you more than you know.” he smiles at you sweetly as he rubs your hair back. “i-i love you jungwoo.” you sigh into his arms as you stop yourself from letting more tears fall. “you are the best boyfriend i could ask for.” he shakes his head.

“you’re the best girlfriend i could ask for. you deserve the best only you know that. i will never give you less than you deserve. now let’s cuddle until i have to go to practice, i don’t want to leave your side until i have to go.” you laugh at him shaking your head. “what about my online classes? i haven’t done any assignments for this week.” you groan thinking about your work. “don’t worry about it until i leave! when i come back ill help you he smiles kissing your head as you two stay tangled in each others arms for the next hours to come.

#jungwoo #jungwoo x reader #nct jungwoo #kim jungwoo #jungwoo fluff #nct scenarios #nct 127 #nct u #nct x reader #nct imagines #nct #nct smut

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sovksluv · 2 days

Text

GTYU2K - static chapter 1

✰ . pairing - ex!Luke Castellan x italian!fem!singer!reader smau

✰ . summary - dating an ex-frat boy was definitely not the best idea, but now that you’re only a girl he used to know, you’re making tons of money off him and his lying, cheating ass, iykwim 😉

✰ . includes - badassness, italian singer but no specified race, cussing probably, sad luke because he regrets what he did

✰ . series taglist - @sluttysammyy

✰ . pjo taglist - @perseus-jackass @niktwazny303 @st4rzl7

✰ . now playing - GTYU2K by Alexis Munroe

✰ . a/n - im not really sure how artists like talk about their new albums and stuff so taylor swift is my inspo!! also PLEASE if you haven’t, GO LISTEN TO Alexis Munroe (aka princessbri) ALSO!!! pictures do NOT depict the reader!!

✰ . series masterlist

y/ny/ln u make me sick

view all comments

larueclarisse FUUUUCK HIM !!! U DONT NEED HIM 🫶🏽❤️‍🔥

ׂ╰┈➤ y/ny/ln ridding myself of allllll the bullshit

ׂ╰┈➤ user09 ATE

missbeauregard soooo excited !!! and so proud of you lovie 💕💕

ׂ╰┈➤ y/ny/ln ilyyyy mwah mwah 💋💋

seaweedbrainbaddie um where’s my photo creds 🤨🤨🤨🤞🤞

ׂ╰┈➤ y/ny/ln no

ׂ╰┈➤ seaweedbrainbaddie yes

ׂ╰┈➤ y/ny/ln no

ׂ╰┈➤ seaweedbrainbaddie YES

ׂ╰┈➤ y/ny/ln FINE. 📸 creds to @seaweedbrainbaddie (stupid name btw)

ׂ╰┈➤ seaweedbrainbaddie thank you and FUCK YOU

ׂ╰┈➤ annab3th LANGUAGE.

pipesqueak drop the album alreadyyy!! i’m dying waiting 😫

ׂ╰┈➤ y/ny/ln coming soon i promise ml 💋

ׂ╰┈➤ pipesqueak not soon enough :(

iamchris_h can’t let bro know i fw this 😣

ׂ╰┈➤ larueclarisse don’t even know why ur friends w such a loser

ׂ╰┈➤ iamchris_h we all make mistakes guys

ׂ╰┈➤ larueclarisse his dad definitely did 🥱

ׂ╰┈➤ missbeauregard CLARISSE.

hater77 she’s just obsessed with her ex like if it’s so bad why make a whole album about him LMFAO

ׂ╰┈➤ user54 ur just mad she’s making money and u aren’t 🤣

larueclarisse GIRLS NIGHT ‼️🥂❤️‍🔥 tagged: @y/ny/ln @missbeauregard @pipesqueak

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pipesqueak i had so much fun !!! 💕💕

ׂ╰┈➤ larueclarisse WE ALL NEED TO GO OUT TOGETHER AGAIN?!?&:8

ׂ╰┈➤ pipesqueak YES !

y/ny/ln holy shit i’m so hung over but at least i look good 🤷‍♀️

ׂ╰┈➤ larueclarisse only Y/n Y/ln can get full on shitfaced and still look good 😫❤️‍🔥

seaweedbrainbaddie omg guys why wasn’t i invited :(((( 💔😖

ׂ╰┈➤ y/ny/ln you’re a boy. it was girls night.

ׂ╰┈➤ larueclarisse you’re like 8??

ׂ╰┈➤ missbeauregard you would probably just complain the whole time

ׂ╰┈➤ pipesqueak you can’t even drink

ׂ╰┈➤ annab3th you’re annoying.

ׂ╰┈➤ seaweedbrainbaddie babe you weren’t even there ??

itslukecastellan she looks so pretty

ׂ╰┈➤ larueclarisse boy gtfo

ׂ╰┈➤ iamchris_h Luke i can’t even defend you anymore 🤦🏽

y/ny/ln just posted a new story

view reply from larueclarisse:

larueclarisse YESSSSS IM SO EXCITED 🫶🏽🫶🏽🫶🏽🫶🏽🫶🏽

y/ny/ln my biggest supporter 💕

view reply from missbeauregard:

missbeauregard DISSIN HIM AND MAKING MONEY!!! IM SO PROUD OF YOUUUU

y/ny/ln thank you babyyyyyy <3333

view reply from cast311anbackup:

cast311anbackup i miss you

y/ny/ln leave me aloneeeee how many mf times do i have to block you.

y/ny/ln i’m not the girl that u used 2 know🤷‍♀️

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frecklystars · 11 months

Text

Holy shit. Thank you guys for all of the asks. I got exactly 50!

I meant to respond to them when I got home from work last night, but I didn’t have enough energy by the time I was done reading these. I’m still incredibly exhausted today, it’s like all of the energy is completely sapped out of me since I was in the emergency room the other day.

The heavy ache in my chest definitely lessened while I was focused on reading what you guys wrote last night. The reminders that my TF F/Os still love me is something I really need to hear, something I probably have to tell myself multiple times... I spent so long being conditioned to believe otherwise.

A few of you also reminded me that Starscream had gone through heavy abuse, and he wouldn’t support someone who treated me the way Megatron treats him. It helped me feel better... I think that’s what got through to me the most. I’ve seen so many commissions/fics my ex-friend showed me where she was being manipulative, and that she would be loved for it. Seeing all of that visual representation of her being so tenderly loved by these characters while she was hurting me at the same time, for so many months, it really did some damage and made me internalize the belief that all transformers characters would want to hurt me the same way and love her for it. Especially when the characters she commissioned and talked about the most often were forming into PTSD triggers. For almost a year now, I have just assumed that all of those characters she wrote and commissioned, including Starscream, would encourage her to hurt me and that they would love to see me getting hurt. I don’t choose to feel this way, it’s just... trauma.

But a few of you wrote about how... canonically, Starscream was so fucking pissed when he was abused, especially in RiD2015!! He was so broken up and angry just like I am!! His entire 3 episodes focused on him repeating how unfairly he was treated, how much he wanted to hurt Megatron for all the times he was put through emotional/physical pain, how years had passed since he escaped being tied to his abuser and yet he was so, so angry and still worried that he wasn’t strong enough bc that is what he was conditioned to believe for millions of years. I want to think that same bot would look at me and see himself in me, and hold my hand through this and tell me it’s gonna be okay and it’s gonna get better and he’d never want to treat me the way my abuser treated me. How could he bear it if his little starflower looked at him the way that he looks at Megatron? I don’t want to think he would support my abuser’s actions, no matter how many fics or commissions she has stating otherwise. When I escaped a toxic situation with someone else 3 years ago, I turned to Starscream for this exact same reason, I looked to him for support. He helped me get through it. Now, I need him again after facing treatment that was absolutely horrific, except I’ve been conditioned to believe he would hurt me too; I just feel so sad when I look at him and I wish I could feel loved by him again. It’s been really, really, really hard. Hearing other people tell me that he loves me and would never want to hurt me really helps, I need to be reminded of that, because I absolutely can’t believe it when I try to tell myself.

I’m sorry I’m not able to respond to your asks at the moment, I’m extremely exhausted from. everything. Today has been difficult as well so I will be offline for the rest of the night. I don’t know if I’ll be online tomorrow.

I’m not 100% sure when the commissions will open up, I was really hoping it would happen this week but I didn’t expect to have that panic attack Tuesday, it really drained me. I am hoping that I’ll have comms open by next week, it all depends on how I’m feeling. I might spend more time offline to limit seeing any potential triggers bc I’ve been very fragile since I went to the emergency room, things that normally wouldn’t make me spiral before are probably things that I will have more trouble handling right now, at least until I can calm down again. Normally it takes me about 3 to 5 days to calm down from a severe panic attack like that. But I gotta spend another $400 on new glasses tomorrow morning so... I really do need to open comms soon :’) They will absolutely be open within the next 2 weeks, I just don’t know exactly when. Anyway, thank you guys again for the nice messages, I really needed them and you helped me feel less alone last night ❤

#woof #and all of the asks were nice!!! thank you!!!#im sorry i gotta turn anon back off :(#i didnt get any bad messages or anything but im just cautious #dw i wont keep anons off forever. some of u were asking me to keep it on #i just dont want to read something negative or see any reminders of my abuser #bc then when im at my concert i will be more prone to having flashbacks instead of enjoying charlie puth bangin out the tunes #but ill turn them back on uhhh when im feeling a little better i guess #i just got some ppl trying to talk to me abt my abuser last week like 'ooh shes posting abt u!'#'shes spreading rumors about u. thought u should know' well i DONT want to know! thank u!#anyone who brings her up telling me what she's 'posting about me' is automatically blocked at this point #if she wants to spread rumors that is her problem. and i dont wanna know about it #bc shes dead to me and im keeping it that way ❤#anyway. to all the ppl who wrote 50 nice messages!!! thank u! i needed them #i will reread them the next couple of days while im feeling rly sad and missing my starlight #god i cant wait to get the hyperfixation back. i cant wait to feel safe w/ them again.#one fucking day

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sexynetra · 10 months

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@lady-assnali tagged me in this fun little tag game as a sneaky little tactic to get more peeks at the chapter before I post and guess what? It worked 💕 (love you mon bien-aimé, nobody loves rawnsyf like you none of this would happen without you xxoo)

1. Share the premise (as much or as little as you’d like) of the WIP that’s been haunting you lately.

RAWNSYF CHAPTER 6 MY MORTAL ENEMY MY BELOVED I have been stuck with her for so long I think my brain is made of jell-o.

We left off with a steamy drunken makeout, but how will Marcia react when there’s no alcohol to blame her decisions on? How will Marcia and Anetra’s friends react to the news of their kiss? Will Anetra ever catch a goddamn break??? Tune in next week* to find out ;)

*hopefully this week

2. Share the last line of your latest WIP

Anetra’s decision was made for her before she could think about anything.

“Okay.”

3. ctrl + f for any of these words: hand, gold, bed, brown, money, tea, smile, water. if any of those are in your wip, share those sentences too.

Here’s the tea, bestie. I cannot do that because hand alone has 62 hits. But I can pick and choose an assortment for y’all

She was trying to be a gentleman. To keep her hands and teeth to exclusively PG-13 areas

It felt like ages before Marcia moved, raising her hands slowly as if she was worried Anetra would flee out the window

She felt her breath catch in her throat as she straightened the towel, running a hand through her damp hair

She broke off and Sasha squeezed both her hands encouragingly

“So… about Marcia…” Anetra began, half-wishing she had ordered a drink just so she would have something to do with her hands

“But my bed is available for cuddling, if you want.”

“That bad,” Anetra sighed, pushing off her bed to sit at her desk chair

Anetra smiled in spite of herself, sending a half a dozen hearts so she didn’t have to think of a real response, and groaned when she saw the message below

Anetra traced a pattern of water stains on the wooden table with two fingers, wondering if she could drown on dry land from the absurdity of the situation

4. No pressure tags:

@eyeslikewatercoolers @marciax3-appreciator @goodemethyd

#hi beta I know ur seeing this and are ready to scratch my eyeballs out for posting all these snippets before you can edit :) I love u #I’ll buy you a pastry at brunch this weekend so you are legally not allowed to be angy with me #and miss assnali thank you for tagging me you truly are my beloved #I write for you this marshie is for you you love her the most #anyway if you can’t tell I’m very excited to post this chapter #I’ve been waiting so long #enjoy your sneak previews I tried not to spoil anything 😈#but if you’ve been looking at every preview I’ve posted I bet there’s some puzzle pieces you can put together #rpdr 15 #drag race #anetra #drag race 15 #rpdr #marcia #anarcia #asks #running away will never set you free #anarcia fanfic #anarcia fanfiction #rawnsyf #tag game #also I did this on my phone so sorry if the formatting is fucked up #my writing

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stuck-in-the-ghost-zone · 10 months

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MACCC!! for the fanfic ask game thing. ummm i don't know a specific word 2 send but i am intrigued. eyes emoji. (<<on computer and do not want 2 look up emojis just to copy/paste one) what r u writing!!! what's ur fav passage in it so far!!!! i wanna hear abt ur writing!!!!

omg whiskey i forgot we were not mutuals while i was in my fanfic writing arc. omg. i have not written a fic since we became mutuals holy shit !!!!!! absolutelyly insane . ANYWAY i write about my ocs all the time and also silly little self indulgent stories that i dont share bc theyre just for me. BUT. CURRENLTY. i missed writing fics so i am in a months long hiatus of a fic for mission to zyxx which is a silly improv comedy podcast that i was super into right before i got into trigun !!!!!!!! its my beloved ever. however the trigun brain worms overtook me before i finished my fic and i have not gone back to work on it much :( i WANT to finish it tho bc the fandom is very small annnd i literally read every single fic in the ao3 tag in the span of like a week. i need 2 add to it.

ANYWAY basics of the fic (spoilers for mission to zyxx incoming !!) :

the main character has a bug egg laid in his eye and throughout all of season 2 it just grows in his eye and makes it look all fucked up until the s2 finale where the egg hatches and another character pulls his eye out before the bug makes his head explode. << its not as fucked up as it sounds bc this is a full comedy podcast so everything is played for goofs and this moment only lasts a total of like 6 seconds but i am a sucker for body horror especially when it involves gross bugs so !!! i am judt rewriting that scene with my own headcanons ans making it scary and emotional 😌 hi my names mac ghostiezone and i love horror and gay people.

I HAVE TO REREAD MY ENTIRE WIP TO FIND A PART TO POST i cant believe ur making me do this (<< THANK U I HAVE NOT LOOKED AT IT IN WEEKS) apologies in advance for my setup i like 2 write on my phone in the middle of the night so my google docs is in perma-darkmode: