#nothing against them but discussing my personal intimate problems with a man i don’t know and no chaperone is just not for me | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

youryanderedaddy · 3 years

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I had a dream just now that might make a good story. So, I had a virus on my laptop which allowed a hacker to see everything I did on my computer and use my webcam. The hacker ends up falling in love with me after stalking me for a few months and pays for someone on the dark web to kidnap me. It works, and then I wake up tied up in the hacker's arm as he caresses and kisses me. That's pretty much it, good night! 🌙

Yo this is my kink 😳

Also I couldn't not write this for Saeran, ok.

Title: Stranger danger

Tw: nsfw - ish, female reader, masturbation, cyber stalking, hacking, mentions of dark web, very irresponsible online behavior, obsessive behavior, implied kidnapping

You knew that this was a stupid idea. Lurking on the dark web with almost no protection other than the Tor browser and some free anti-virus program wasn't your best decision, but fuck it if it wasn't entertaining. You had always been drawn to the darker, scarier part of the human mind and this side of the internet proved quite interesting. Your friends always warned you about the dangers that came with looking up shady online searches and sites but everything had been quite peaceful so far. There weren't hackers or murderers on the dark web, the worst you had seen were people selling drugs and weapons for unreasonable prices, along with some questionable fetish porn and the typical popping ads.

Your favorite thing to do while online was chatting. Two weeks ago you had stumbled upon an unusual forum called "Scream buddies" where upon entering you were automatically connected to another random profile. The whole theme of the forum was discussing horror and mondo movies, shockumentaries and overall creepy stuff, your forte. The person you met on there shared a similar fascination with all things dark and gory which soon made talking to them the only thing you were looking forward upon opening the site.

You didn't know much about the guy behind the profile yet, except that he was a young man. His icon showed an eye so green it emited with the neon pigment and his username was just as mysterious - BlueRose7. You enjoyed chatting with him about your hobby but the thing you liked the most was undressing him little by little, metaphorically so, by getting pieces of information about his life. It started small - his favorite food, favorite book, favorite game, but the moment you tried digging deeper and asked whether he had siblings or not, the man simply disappeared for the next few days. You quickly realized just what type of topics you needed to avoid to keep your new friend from leaving. Family, childhood memories and work matters were out of the picture.

The stranger wasn't fair, not really. He didn't show you vulnerability and kept his secrecy while demanding to know everything there was to know about you. For the longest time you didn't want to answer just to stay on a equal footing, just to show him how frustrating it was, but there was something about the man that drew you in. He was magnetic, clever and witty, if a bit pessimistic and dark at times. You couldn't help telling him everything he wanted to hear - what your job was, whether you were single or not, all that jazz. In your defense, BlueRose7 actually listened to your stories, took your problems seriously and provided solutions, which despite being too extreme and overprotective at times (upon hearing that your bestfriend talked behind your back he offered to "take care" of her), were comforting. It was nice to have someone caring around even if you met him on a sketchy website.

Meanwhile your personal life wasn't going too great. You had to balance between attending college, working long shifts as a waitress and meeting your friends from time to time which was draining. On top of all there was a weird virus on your computer which resulted in the camera turning on and off and the most random times of the day - while you were studying, watching TV, or in some cases, fully naked and ready to take a bath. You didn't think much of it though, with all the illegal movies and games you downloaded along with the dark web lurking it was more than expected for your laptop to behave weirdly. You didn't even mention it to your friend from the IT major because you knew that he'd force you to delete Tor and put an end to your internet adventures.

One time you were particularly bored after several long lectures and you were laying in bed, the camera turned on once again. It was a hot afternoon and you were wearing boyshorts and a loose T- shirt with nothing underneath it, you were home alone so there was no need. The bright red spot was twinking like a recorder, the light reflecting in your eyes, when a silly little idea came to your mind. You slid your hand under your blouse and lifted the fabric up, exposing your breasts to the laptop, your nipples hardening due to the sudden coldness, becoming pink and stiff in seconds. You played with for a few minutes, pinching and pulling the buds gently, moaning softly into the pleasant sensation. Soon you could feel yourself getting wet, and slowly, teasingly, removed your shorts and panties. You smiled at the camera, biting your lip provocatively, imagining you were a camgirl performing for her desperate little fanboys and fangirls. The thought alone was enough to make you spread your legs wide and slip two fingers into your throbbing cunt, using the wetness to push deeper. You used your other hand to stroke your clit and whimpered wantonly, your face red, your neck sweaty and your heart pumping fast from the adrenaline. You were quickly reaching your orgasm and your mind wondered to the boy you were talking to in the forum. You wondered how he looked like, how his body was built, whether he was a sweet sensual lover or a rough mean one. Fucked up as it was, you pictured the man as one of your most loyal viewers, watching all of your streams with a fist around his thick vock and an excited grin on his face. He would comment things like "you look so beautiful like this" or perhaps even "pretty little slut" after tipping you enough to last you a week. Soon all the mental stimulation sent you over the edge and you came with a loud cry full of pleasure. Well, this felt good.

After your "performance" was over the camera was magically turned off, which may have caused some concerns if you weren't too busy feeling embarrassed and dirty about the unhinged fantasy you had just had, and with a person you knew nothing about. You managed to calm down though - it wasn't nothing more than a fun pastime, a naughty thought that would never become the reality. You would never actually meet BlueRose7, right? There was nothing to worry about, so you just went on with your day.

You had some dinner afterwards and decided to have an early night as you already felt full and tired. You put on your favoruite pajamas and laid in bed, staring at the ceiling until you fell into deep dreamless sleep.

You woke up due to a weird noise. You could hear someone's heavy breathing right next to your ear, someone's grabby hands were wrapped tightly against your body, trapping you between the wall and their hard chest. You had only a few seconds to scream before the intruder's palm covered your mouth.

"Shhh." The man whispered softly and stroked your hair like you were a doll he was playing with. "Don't scream or I'll be forced to hurt you, flower. I have a gun." His voice sounded deep and rough but this didn't stop you from thrashing and turning on your side until you came face to face with the man. It was dark in the room and you couldn't exactly see all his features but his enchanting green eyes would forever be burned into your memory - they seemed dashing, hypnotizing. You couldn't utter a word.

"It's me, the person you've been talking to all these months. I came to take you home" He spoke out suddenly, the line of his mouth twisting into a smile or a smirk, you couldn't quite tell. You shook your head no, tears threatening to spill all over your cheeks from the fear. It couldn't be him, the man would never do that to you. Or would he? With what little information you knew, you couldn't really tell. His hold finally loosen, seeing you quiet like that.

"Let me go, please." You begged, pushing at his shoulders weakly since you were still sleepy, groggy and tired. "I don't know you." You said, hoping this would remind the stranger you weren't friends, lovers or anything that gave him the right to be so close to you, to touch you so intimately. Unfortunately, this only seemed to amuse him and he chucked darkly as he pulled your hair away to place a small chaste kiss on your neck.

"But I know you, flower." Your supposed online friend replied shortly after, his eyes full of malice. "And your little show today makes me think you want to know me too." He added in a low tone, licking his lips before smashing them on yours, forcing his tongue deep into your mouth just to hear your whines and protests. Then it hit you. The camera, the virus, the questions. He had watched you, he knew where you worked, where you lived and studied, everything. You had told him after all.

The hacker thought you looked so adorable right now, figuring things out, helpless, confused, regretful and most of all, weak. You were so weak and careless, and he loved you for it. It reminded him of himself before life screwed him over.

You wouldn't be in this position, underneath him, if you had just told someone about your laptop virus and the bad guy you had encountered online. But Saeran couldn't say he wasn't glad your self-preservation instincts were so very broken and dysfunctional. He wouldn't meet you otherwise. "I need you, princess. That's why I'll take you to Paradise." These were the final words you heard before you felt lightheaded and sleepy again, your last memory a pair of green mint eyes.

You really shouldn't have trusted strangers on the internet.

#yandere #male yandere #yandere mystic messenger #yandere saeran #yandere oneshot #yandere saeran choi #yandere unkown #yancore #male yandere x reader #yandere oc #yandere male x reader #yandere oc x reader #yandere smut #yandere x you #yandere hacker

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comfortwriting · 3 years

Text

I Hate You - F.W

Masterlist, Requesting Rules, Writing Prompts

Fred Weasley x Fem Reader

Requested/About: Enemies to lovers smut! Fred is constantly getting his classmate into trouble, and Y/N is finding herself spending more of her evenings in detention with him - her hate for him growing. One evening, something out of the ordinary happens between them.

Warnings: 18+ swearing, mention of blood, smut, fingering, handjob, oral (male receiving), unprotected sex.

"Stop shaking the desk!" you hissed at your transfiguration partner.

Fred smirked and squinted at you "no" he replied, his ego popping out in his voice "if you've got a problem go and sit somewhere else"

You watched Fred waving his wand at the mouse that cowered in front of him, letting out little squeaks each time Fred failed to transform it into a large cotton bud.

How this feud started between the two of you - you couldn't remember - you were past caring. All you know is that Fred hates you, and you hate him, his face pisses you off and your face - your body frustrates him.

He thought about you constantly, almost as if you were invading his mind on purpose just to taunt him - you appeared in his dreams and he couldn't stop it, he couldn't figure out why this was happening - why he would dream of you feeling nothing but hatred, only to wake up with his ejaculate spilling on his bedsheets.

"Don't ask me for any help during potions class, then." You replied, taking out your wand, the mouse suddenly going stiff, then turning round fluffy, losing its legs, ears, facial features, and tail.

Fred scowled at you, poking the cotton bud with the tip of his wand "I wasn't going to" he slouched back in his chair, pulling apart what once was the mouse, grumbling under his breath. "This is kids stuff" he huffed "It's only why you're good at it."

You rolled your eyes and snatched the cotton bud out of his hands, 'Reparo!' putting it back together and transforming the bud back into the innocent, shy, creature that curled up into and started to tremble in your hands.

"Miss Y/L/N, I think your partner can do his own work" Miss McGonagall spoke out, staring down at you whilst walking past your desk "Sit up Mr Weasley!" she hissed at Fred, hurrying to the front of the classroom.

Fred sighed and sat up grudgingly, "It's alright for you, being a good girl who never makes mistakes, who everyone loves so dearly."

You scoffed and rolled your eyes "you talk so much shit, Fred Weasley!" you huffed "I actually spend my time revising because I actually make mistakes, something I'm sure you've never given the time of day to work on!"

Fred huffed "You sound just like my brother Percy, it's as if he never bloody left!"

Whilst the back and forth continued to unfold between you and Fred, the class was dismissed, everyone leaving - you and Fred didn't notice, too wrapped up in arguing, his brother George and friend Lee stayed behind, watching and enjoying the entertainment.

"Well, you know what!" you raised your voice, picking up your bag and pushing your books inside "sod you! you're on your own next lesson, don't come begging when Snape rips you a new one!" you stood up from your chair and stormed off.

"Nice one Fred" George called out, walking out of the great hall and towards the dungeons "you're going to suffer in there, mate."

Fred pulled a sour face "she's the most obnoxious bitch I've ever met"

Unfortunately for Fred, you were in earshot of his insult "Obnoxious bitch?" you laughed out, catching up to him "lads like you are all the same, threatened by smarter women"

George laughed, bashing Fred in the ribs with his elbow, Fred felt mortified and could feel himself wanting to grab you and shove you against a wall, the thought of doing it however made him feel something he didn't want to admit...

he couldn't

no way

feelings for you? oh please...

Fred rattled his brain, trying hard to shake this intruding feeling out of him, he hates you, love is out of the question, anything intimate is a red flag.

"Well, with what you lack in looks and personality you make up for in IQ, I'm not threatened by you, you're just disgusting to look at and be around. My skiving Snack boxes wouldn't change your appearance you're that bloody ugly." he snapped.

Ugly.

Your heart pained at the word, why? you didn't know, whenever anyone attacked your looks and your body, you didn't care, it meant nothing to you - so why your heart is suddenly hurting did more than baffled you.

Why should you care?

It's not like you're in love with him or anything

You could feel your stomach doing flips, your blood boiling, how dare he!

"it's a shame because your dick will never match the size of your ego, regardless if it's flaccid or hard." You snapped back, pushing past him, bashing into him on purpose, storming towards the dark and dingy dungeons.

Fred went bright red, infuriated that you shamed him in front of his twin, especially for something that he believed determined his value as a man, his blood - like yours, now also boiling.

He wanted to storm after you, grab you by the wrist, pull you into him so you couldn't escape, he wanted to stare down at you whilst demanding an apology, hell, he wanted to show you - show you just how wrong you were.

"Come on now, Freddie" George spoke out, breaking him out of his thoughts "don't let her bother you, all the lasses say shit like that - if you let her get under your skin, she's winning."

she's winning

Fred couldn't and wouldn't allow that to happen, never in a million years - you wouldn't get away with embarrassing him like this, you were in for it, without a clue of what Fred is capable of.

Potions were nothing short of pure hell, you weren't able to switch seats, forced to endure two long hours with Fred who had never looked so angry before, he shot daggers at you, practically seething and speaking through gritted teeth when he needed to look over the ingredients and steps.

"I told you not to bother asking me for help" you snarled, stirring your cauldron, Snape watching the two of you argue in pleasure behind his test papers he should be marking instead.

Fred huffed "Well until you budge over, quit being greedy and let me pick what I need or I'll keep bloody asking!"

You bit your tongue, trying not to swear "Look, you forgot your book, either go and ask Snape if he has a spare or bugger off!"

Fred could feel himself losing his temper, his body temperature increasing, his heart thumping, his fists bunching.

"The two of you will have plenty of time to discuss during detention" Snape spoke, dragging out his words.

You shot Fred an angry look, your eyes widening and your nostrils flaring, Fred looked back at you, shaking his head whilst your Professor walked away, causing the two of you to argue even more.

"Look what you've done now! Thanks a lot!" you raised your voice, stirring your cauldron so angrily, specks of dark amber liquid splashed onto the desk and your skirt, hissing away.

Fred scoffed and stood up, snatching your book away from you, gripping it in his hand "What I've done?" he shook his head "You've caused this!"

"One more word and one detention will become a week's worth," Snape warned.

"Caused what?" You stood up, puffing out your chest "I haven't done anything! You're just an idiot, a dumb idiot who is jealous because I'm going somewhere in life and you aren't because you're fucking stupid!" You yelled, the whole room becoming silent.

Fred stared at you, his heart hurting, he wanted to cry.

idiot, dumb, fucking stupid, going nowhere in life.

"You're a fucking bitch, who everyone laughs at, who everyone thinks is a loser!" He yelled back.

These two weeks of detention would change everything and the two of you had no idea.

Arriving early in the Hospital Wing which surprisingly had empty beds that had been stripped from their bedding, Madame Pomfrey waved you over to her, a forced smile spreading across her face.

"You're rather early"

"I know" you sighed "It's to make up for Fred being late" you grumbled, the thought of hours with him this evening making your head pound.

"Well," Madam Pomfrey wandered around the hospital wings, laying out dirty bedsheets, pillowcases, pyjamas, empty dishes, and medicine bottles "the two of you - when he arrives - will be cleaning everything, without magic" she emphasised that last part, "I thought I'd be rather easy on you this time, you won't be scrubbing any bedpans this week."

You nodded, realising that she wouldn't be sticking around to watch you or Fred, you walked up to the long table and popped on the large purple rubber gloves, sitting down on the stool, waiting for your nightmare to turn up.

"You can only start when he arrives" Madame Pomfrey reminded you "Whatever you can't finish, you'll do tomorrow, and if there are any patients, you'll have extra work." She walked out of the hospital wing, leaving you behind, the waiting game beginning.

Two hours passed by, two long and dreadfully boring hours, you stared at Fred's matching purple gloves, itching to just get started and clean up; but you couldn't.

Instead, you filled the large bucket with laundry detergent, there was no point in adding any hot water, it would be left to cool anyway if Fred didn't show up soon.

Fred waltzed in, laughing and waving goodbye to his twin, shutting the door behind him. His face dropped when he met your eyes, he noticed your gloves and smirked, laughing lightly "you look ridiculous."

"I don't care what you think," you snapped "You're two hours late, everything just piles up you know, it doesn't just go away."

Fred pulled out the wand from his pocket "Oh come off it, love."

Love?!

Fred fell quiet, he felt embarrassed, mortified, and you stared at him confused, horrified even, your eyebrows knitted together. You brushed his mistake aside, knowing that pulling him up about it would just strengthen the argument.

"We can't use magic." You pointed to the line of buckets, sponges, scrubbers, mop, and broom "Everything has to be done by hand, the muggle way."

Fred's face fell, even more, something you thought wasn't possible, you picked up his matching purple rubber gloves and threw them at him "put them on."

Fred wanted to argue, but he couldn't, he didn't know what to say - the feelings inside of him confusing him, making him question everything, he felt sick, he could feel a strange fluttering inside of his stomach, something he only felt when he was in love.

Why was he feeling this now? How was he such a thing... love for you? He hates you.

Fred caught the rubber gloves and put them on, not saying a word. You filled up the empty buckets with warm water, the cleaning liquid making the water foam up with bubbles.

"You sweep" you passed him the boom "I'll mop after you've done, we'll take turns washing the bedding, pyjamas, dishes and bottles."

Fred's hate for you suddenly went through another wave, the fire igniting in his belly, he snatched the broom from you. "Just shut up and let's get on with it." He snapped, starting to sweep the dusty, grimey floor.

You walked away from him and sat down, huffing so the hair in your face moved away over your head, you placed the bucket on your lap, grabbed the pyjama shirt and laundry stain remover soap and started to scrub, focusing hard on the fresh spots of blood.

"I wasn't the one who turned up two hours late," you muttered under your breath, scrubbing the shirt harder, the red liquid slowly getting lighter.

Fred had swept the majority of the floor, he looked over at you, stopped sweeping and glared.

"Shut up," he grumbled

You grinned, the sight of him in purple gloves making you burst out into laughter.

"You look ridiculous" you laughed, dunking the pyjama shirt into the warm water, the stain finally lifting and ready to dry.

Fred dropped the broom, its long wooden handle clanked against the floor, you looked up at him as he stormed over to you, pulling off his gloves and throwing them across the room.

The way he walked with the expression on his face made you flutter, your crotch heating up and getting excited as he inched closer and closer to you, his hands now gripping on the table. You sighed and placed the bucket on the table, squeezing the water out of the pyjama top and handing it up to dry, Fred still staring at you.

You turned around, looking into his gorgeous brown eyes, sighing and pulling off your rubber gloves, setting them down on the table.

"What?"

"Don't what me."

"Well stop staring!"

Fred pushed the buckets of water off the table angrily, the water splashing as the buckets collided with the swept floor, the foamy and suddy water spilling everywhere.

"What was that for!" you yelled.

Fred reached out for you over the table and pulled you into him, he couldn't take it anymore, he couldn't ignore these feelings, his feelings, his wants, his needs, he couldn't deny himself of you anymore. When his lips crashed against yours, something that you couldn't describe clicked, like the missing piece to a puzzle, and you kissed back.

The kiss was hungry, passionate, lustful, and the two of you just wanted to fuck.

Your hands got lost in his hair, pulling at it as Fred gripped onto your waist, both of you now mounting the table, the dishes, bottles, bedding, and pyjamas fell on the floor, absorbing the water.

Moaning against his lips, Fred's hands pulled at your top, you moved your hands away from his hair and lifted your arms up, your top being pulled up before falling to the floor, being soaked by the water. The sight of you in your bra made Fred's face heat up and go red, he quickly unfastened your bra, unable to control himself.

He took your breast into his mouth, sucking your nipple, you lolled your head back and moaned, one of your hands held his gentle face as he sucked, the other fell down to his trousers, slowly undoing the buttons and pulling down his zipper. Your hand sneaked underneath the waistband of his boxers and you took hold of his erect length - you were wrong - his cock was as big as his ego, and you knew when you were able to look at it, it would be even bigger.

Fred's free hand dived under your skirt and went into your underwear, whilst wanking him off his index circled around your entrance hole - you were so wet, the thought of being this close to him usually repulsed you - but right now, you wanted nothing more than him inside of you, fucking you as much as he hated you.

His index finger slowly pushed inside of you, you moaned out and tugged on his cock harder, he started to finger you faster, knowing part of him was inside you made you so wet, and got you so excited. Fred added his middle finger, now pumping them faster as your walls tightened around his fingers, he pulled off your red and saliva coated nipple and attacked your neck with kisses, then sucking, leaving his marks all over you.

Fred pushed you down on your back so your body was now pressed against the cool table, he continued to finger fuck you, you pulled down his trousers and boxers with both hands, already missing the feeling of his throbbing cock filling one of them. You glanced down - you were definitely wrong - his length was large, definitely outshining his ego.

"You wanted me to shut up, didn't you?" you asked Fred, he pulled away from sucking on your neck, a confused expression formed on his face.

"Is that what you want?" he smirked, catching on "you want me to shut you up with my cock?" he withdrew his fingers, now coated with your juices, sucking them clean.

Fred leaned back, taking his cock in his hand "go on then" he encouraged you "suck my cock."

"Make me."

Fred grabbed you by the hair - but not roughly or too hard - you were actually quite surprised by his gentleness. You were on your knees now, sucking Fred's large length, choking on it as you went down deeper and deeper, taking more of him in your mouth.

Fred loved the sight of you sucking him off, the sight of your mouth being so full you couldn't say something stupid, the sound of you choking made him happy, he was finally shutting you up - but part of him didn't want to shut you up, he wanted to listen to you speaking about your interests, your hobbies, what you thought of Hogsmeade and Zonko's Joke Shop.

This part of him pulled you off him, you caught your breath and wiped away the laces of saliva that were hanging from your mouth, swinging as you moved back with the back of your hand. Fred pulled you into a kiss, this time it wasn't lustful, it was gentle, caring, soft - it made your heart skip a beat and it made you weak at the knees.

Once more, your back was against the table, Fred pulled down your skirt and knickers whilst still kissing you, your hands back in his hair, massaging his scalp, Fred propped your legs around his hips, you pulled him closer to you.

Fred grabbed out a condom, but you stopped him.

"Don't bother with that crap" you sighed, wanting him inside you already "I'm on the pill."

Fred nodded, confident that this would be enough, and he applied lube onto his length.

You wondered why he had brought condoms and a sache of lube, Fred didn't know why - he never usually carried these items, but after weeks of the same dreams that he couldn't explain - that small part of him kept telling him, over and over to bring it.

Fred looked into your eyes, searching for your permission, you nodded your head.

"I'm ready, Freddie." you breathed.

Freddie.

He had never expected you - of all people - to call him that, but he liked it, and he hoped that he could hear it again.

Fred rubbed his erect length against your folds teasingly, and then slowly pushed himself inside of you, the two of you moaned and exhaled - he felt amazing - stretching you out, and your walls felt amazing - tightening around him. He started to fuck you faster, his large length plunging deeper inside of you as he bucked his hips, your legs tightened around him, as did your walls, your hands now resting on his back, your fingernails digging into him leaving marks of your own.

His moans were beautiful - perhaps the most beautiful thing you had ever heard. How could you hate him? How could you be so mean to him, insult him, mock him and shame him, he was perfect, everything about him - your heart now reaching out to his - how could you be so wrong?

You didn't hate him, you were madly in love with him.

Fred couldn't take his eyes off you and your body - the perfect shape and size of your breasts, your tummy, the feeling of your insides engulfing him in warmth, your gorgeous eyes staring into his, the feeling of your fingers tips gliding over his back, then your fingernails scratching him.

Fred felt stupid, he felt awful for what he said to you - the way he treated you - calling you ugly - you were far from such a thing. This moment felt better and meant more than any dream he ever had - this was real, this was the moment he had been waiting for - his heart finally finding yours.

"Fuck!" you moaned out, reaching the edge "Please don't stop, fuck me, I want to cum!" you wailed.

Fred couldn't stop, he didn't want to, even if he was getting tired and over working himself.

He continued to fuck you, feeling himself getting close, you lolled your head back, your eyes rolling in the back of your head and released - your cum spilling onto his length, your moans filling the hospital wing. Your orgasm face pushed Fred over the edge, he spilt himself inside you and collapsed, holding you in his arms.

The two of you said nothing, you were trying to make sense of this all, and you were in trouble - after tonight, you would have a lot of explaining to do - not just to one another, but to Madame Pomfrey who would be back in half an hour.

After coming to, Fred pulled out his wand and dried your clothes, so toastie to put back on. You started to mop the floor as Fred speedily washed the pillow cases and bed sheets, hanging them up to dry, then starting on the dishes. With the floor sparkling clean, you joined him, cleaning and rinsing the bottles.

"You're not an idiot" You spoke out, breaking the awkward silence "You're not dumb either, and I don't doubt that you're going to go far in life."

This meant a lot to Fred, it made him feel secure.

"You're not ugly" Fred replied, scrubbing another bowl "You're not an obnoxious bitch."

Looking up at Fred, into his deep brown eyes, your pursed your lips for a moment.

"I don't hate you."

"I don't either."

"I don't want to hate you, I-"

"I feel things for you too, Y/N."

Madame Pomfrey burst through the door, staring at the rows of dirty bowls and bottles that needed cleaning.

"Looks like you two will be back here tomorrow!"

You and Fred shared a glance, smiling, with a flush of pink across your cheeks.

These two weeks were the start of something special.

Taglist: @amourtentiaa @alwaysnforeverfangirl @reeophidian @inglourious-imagines @horrorxweasley @sebby-staan @onlyfreds @lucymfer @escapingrealitybyreading @freddiemylovelg @pandaxnienke @xmalfoyweasleyx

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writtenonreceipts · 3 years

Note

a prompt?

single parent trope for feysand, pretty please?

more prompts for this would be great, otherwise you get my rambling mind and we all know how that goes...

Find my main masterlist here

An Intimate Display of Insecurities and Hopelessness

The air-conditioning was out. Again. And Feyre had already stripped down to a tank-top and shorts. The heat was miserable.

“Sweet mercy,” she muttered as she stood in front of the large fan she’d bought yesterday to try and keep things cool. It wasn’t working.

Feyre brushed her hair from her sweaty brow and bit back a curse. This day was not going at all the way she’d wanted it to. It had taken her far to long to get anything started, not to mention coordinating with Elain on how she wanted to participate in the shop.

It was only three days to her deadline to get her shop up and running. Three days to get pallets made, canvases designed, and interior design finished. All in one-hundred-degree weather and boob sweat.

She turned back to the mess of her shop. This was going to take more work than she had time for. Or sanity.

The front door opened behind her with a clatter. Feyre wasn’t that concerned about it, knowing she was getting some things delivered.

“Just leave the deliveries on the floor,” she said, not looking back. She was trying to have a vision of what she was going to accomplish, a vision that would be epic and glorious.

“Excuse me?”

Feyre spun at the smooth voice and nearly stumbled. The most attractive man she’d ever seen was standing in her shop. His black pants were crisp and cleanly lined and his black shirt was rolled up to the elbows, displaying his tanned skin. He was tall, lean, and with his black hair swept neatly back.

Feyre felt sweat roll between her breasts. Oh hell.

“Feyre Archeron?” He asked and took a step forward while holding out his hand. “Rhysand Avitas. I’m the new building manager.”

A dozen curses ran through her head as she did her best to wipe her sweaty hand on her shorts inconspicuously. Because of course she knew who Rhysand Avitas was. Everyone in their small town did. He was the son of the police chief and now the youngest elected mayor in Valeris history.

He had also been just a year ahead of Feyre in school. So she knew the kind of person her was. At least, she thought she did.

“Rhysand, of course,” she said as she took his hand. The heat didn’t seem to effecting him. Jackass. “Sorry, I guess I lost track of time.”

Indeed, it was half-past two right when she’d told his assistant that he could come by the shop. And see that everything was in order for her opening deadline. Except she hadn’t really expected him to show up.

“Not a problem.” He smiled in such a charming way that Feyre found herself wanting to hate him.

But Feyre already did hate him. He had bought the building just two days after her father’s death. Just two days after the building was up for sale. She hadn’t even had the time to get funds together to convince the bank that she could buy the lease herself. Now, she was going to have to open her shop under him.

In school he had been captain of the football team, president of the ASB club. He had been the kind of person Feyre had never wanted to interact with. High and mighty, proud and cruel. He’d worn a mask of indifference to anyone beneath him, she was convinced.

Feyre cleared her throat. “Things are a little messy right now, but it’ll be ready for opening day on Monday.”

Rhysand nodded as he walked around the shop. Bits of wood crunched under his too fancy shoes and dust clung to his pants when he brushed up against one of the pallets that Feyre was still trying to decide how to convert into a display case.

“You’re a painter, correct?” he asked. He looked over his shoulder at her and Feyre was taken aback by his eyes. Bright blue—so bright that she could have sworn they were violet. And damn her if she didn’t want to at least try and draw them.

“Yes,” she replied. “My sister does some gardening and does floral arrangements and I’m planning on having her sell some of her work here as well.”

“I remember,” he said, “Mrs. Ellis always made sure all of her classes knew about her protegee.”

Feyre rolled her eyes. The high school art teacher had been someone no one really liked. Aside from her. Maybe it was just because Feyre had wanted someone to pay attention to her, but the woman had always been nice to Feyre.

“My work wasn’t that good back then,” she said. And it was true, it had taken years of study and experimentation to get to where she was now. Ten years after those miserable high school years and here she was, finally maybe a little bit confident with what she could do.

Rhysand said nothing, only observed. “And you’re sure you’ll be ready by Monday? No offense Miss Archeron, but it seems like a lot needs to be taken care of. You assured the bank, and my assistant, that your shop was worth allowing in the complex.”

Feyre’s mouth pursed as she watched his man before her. With his impeccable clothing, that silver watch on his wrist, it was hard to imagine that he’d had any hardships in his life.

“Yes, and I keep my word,” she said, her voice cold enough to rival any a/c. “What I would like to know is why the air conditioning still isn’t fixed. It’s been this way for a week now.”

“It’s being looked into,” Rhysand said.

His gaze turned sharp as he looked her over again. Something passed over his face that Feyre didn’t care to try and understand. She just wanted this man out of her shop so she could get back to work.

“Was there something in specific that you wanted to discuss?” she asked, “or were just interested in questioning my ability to run a shop?”

He smirked at her and shook his head. “You always did have that fire in you, didn’t you?”

Feyre was ready to tell him to get out when a soft cry caught her attention. She held up a finger to silence him as she listened. Maybe she’d imagined it. Hell, she hoped he’d imagined it. Unfortunately the cry came again.

“Just a minute,” she said.

She hurried to the back of the shop where a door led into what would be used for the breakroom. It was a few degrees cooler back there, which was why she’d set it up for it’s current use.

Sitting up in the pack-and-play was her daughter. Seren with her golden hair and large blue eyes looked up at her and cried again.

“Momma!”

Immediately, Feyre scooped her daughter up. Seren latched on with a snake-like grip. Her arms wound around Feyre’s neck tightly.

“Hi baby,” Feyre murmured. “Why are you awake?”

It had only been a half hour since Feyre’d put her down, she’d been hoping for at least one hour of uninterrupted work.

Seren said nothing and only whimpered into Feyre’s neck. As Feyre whispered to her daughter to sooth her, she went back out into the main part of the store to find the diaper bag she’d packed that morning. In one of the insulated pockets, she found a bottle of apple juice.

“Here, honey,” Feyre said. Seren snatched the bottle and began drinking, tears still rolling down her cheeks. “Okay, there we go. Momma need to talk to Mr. Avitas okay, can you let me do that?”

Seren nodded and the almost two-year-old tucked herself right against Feyre’s neck.

Pressing a kiss to her daughter’s forehead, Feyre turned back to Rhysand who stood right where she’d left him. The hard look in his eyes was gone and whatever hard-ass talk he was no doubt going to deliver evaporated.

“It seems I was wrong,” Rhysand said, “you do have some help, don’t you?”

Seren wiggled in Feyre’s arms to get a better look at the man, her bottle sticking in one cheek.

“Momma,” Seren said, her voice just slightly muffled.

“Yes, you are my big helper,” Feyre agreed, “even when you get into my paints.”

Seren beamed up at her. “I help.”

Feyre snorted a bit of laughter. Help. Sure. There were some painted handprints on the wall that aid otherwise.

“Did you have any other concerns you needed to address, Mr. Avitas?” Feyre asked.

He seemed so taken aback that Feyre had had her daughter in the back room napping that it took him a moment to speak again. It would have been amusing if the man hadn’t been so annoying to begin with.

“She looks just like you,” Rhysand said.

That was the last thing Feyre’d expected. She quirked a brow at the man. She knew it was true. Seren, thank the heavens, looked like an Archeron. There was barely a trace of her father. Something Feyre would give thanks for every day.

Feyre heart gave a painful squeeze. Of course that was what he meant.

She met his gaze, holding it for a long moment. Her hold on Seren tightened automatically, something she always did when she remembered her baby’s father.

“Yes, she does,” she whispered. Feyre wondered what Rhysand could possibly know. When she’d moved back to Valeris two years ago, just after she’d found out she was pregnant, she scrubbed her life clean of that man. Rhysand couldn’t possibly know who the father was. Even if he did, he shouldn’t care.

“Right,” he muttered and ran a hand through his hair. Once again, an un definable look flashed over his features, and disappeared just as quickly. “I’ll see what I can do about the air-conditioning.”

“Good,” Feyre said, “I’d hate to have to delay opening.”

And much to her surprise, Rhysand laughed. “Of course not. That would be rather inconvenient, wouldn’t it?”

He turned back to the door and looked as though he would leave without saying anything else, until he paused. He seemed to be having an internal dilemma when he looked back to Feyre.

“If there is anything I can help with, let me know.”

The words were halting and careful. Feyre wasn’t sure how to read them, how to respond. So she only nodded.

i wanted to add more to this for the first part, but well here we are...

tags

@aelinchocolatelover // @more-espresso-less-depresso-xx // @bamchickawowow // @ireallyshouldsleeprn // @courtofjurdan // @sassys-world // @sleeping-and-books // @superspiritfestival // @chieflemming // @julemmaes // @lysandra-ghost-leopard // @firestarsandseneschals // @emikadreams // @rapunzel1523 // @booksofthemoon // @highladysith // @fangirlprincess09 // @rowaelinismyotp // @vanzetanze // @jlinez // @cassianscool // @stardelia // @my-fan-side // @sjmships // @tillyrubes10 // @acourtofsjmtrash // @hellasblessed // @rhysandswhore // @story-scribbler // @post-it-notes33 // @live-the-fangirl-life // @strangevil321 // @whythefuckdoiexist // @pastasiren // @beanco8 // @lemonade-coolattas @foreverfallingforthestars // @surielandiareendgame // @feysand-loml

#feysand #feysand au #single parent au #acotar fics #acotar au #acotar #feyre x rhysand #feyre archeron #rhysand

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vvienne · 3 years

Text

XICHENG FIC RECS

hold my hands by Snooze (Chiruka)

Transplanting a core into a new person isn’t without repercussions. One year after the events at Guanyin Temple, Jiang Cheng found himself once again faced with the possibility of losing everything he had. Reconciling with his brother, learning to let Jin Ling go, and dealing with his blooming emotions toward the First Jade of Gusu — will Jiang Cheng accomplish what he wants before time runs out?

it all passes someday by screamlet

A week before the anniversary of Wei Wuxian’s death, there was a commotion outside Lan Wangji’s house.

Jiang Cheng and Lan Wangji over the years.

The Unlikely Expression of Love by manamune

When everything has settled, when everyone else has moved on with their lives and their friends, Jiang Cheng has a realization which shouldn’t actually be a surprise:

He’s lonely.

Indigo, lavender, and violet (I don't wanna be red) by ohwhatevrewhatevr

It, in the pale colors of the late morning, is the closest to perfect Jiang Cheng will ever reach. He strokes Lan XiChen's hair and presses a light kiss to where his ribbon and hair meet. The sky is a pale blue, and the pastels of flowers and clouds are spread out through the window, a brilliant world waiting for them, them in the gentian house, safe from stronger breezes - there is the clutter of birds fluttering and chirping outside. It is a warm, perfect, spring morning.

Jiang Cheng and Lan XiChen have been together for an year. In which, no one ever really gets over things, Jiang Cheng has the misfortune of interacting with his brother, the juniors help out with the proposal, and there's a marriage.

Altitude by starknjarvis

When Jin Ling lures Jiang Cheng to the Cloud Recesses under false pretenses, he finds himself out of place among this new family Wei Wuxian has formed.

Lan Xichen, at least, seems pleased to have his company.

Perhaps there is still a chance for Jiang Cheng to make amends and move forward.

[Modao Zushi Online] GLITCH REPORT: My Brother Got Chased Down And %$@*$&@ By Gusu Dungeon Boss??? by oh_fudgecakes

Modao Zushi Online is a virtual reality MMORPG. Jiang Cheng and Wei Wuxian are top ranking players in its new server, currently tied with their arch-nemesis from their previous server, Wen Chao. In an attempt to defeat him, they take on the Gusu Dungeon Boss, Zewu-jun, to win the reward of a legendary weapon. Ever the cheat, Wei Wuxian tries to take advantage of a glitch to defeat the seemingly undefeatable boss. It backfires. Jiang Cheng gets fucked by a boss monster.

He can't get enough.

Meanwhile, Lan Xichen, the unwitting staff member in charge of controlling Zewu-jun, absolutely did not sign up to be pulled into a secret virtual reality fling with a player. Mod Ji, who has to deal with Wei Wuxian's incessant glitch reporting of his brother's sex life, is long-suffering.

Mulberry by xxdz

Jiang Cheng grits his teeth and pushes harder. He feels like torn silk, the embroidery needle sinking in again and again and again; patiently, desperately, endlessly trying to make something beautiful out of something broken.

Jiang Cheng builds his sect, learns embroidery, and raises his nephew.

we can raise a little family by lanyon

“Well, brother,” says Wei Wuxian, leaning against the outside of Jiang Cheng’s chambers. “I had heard that you and Xichen went on a night hunt and came back with a baby, which is not the order I’d choose to do things in…”

In which Jiang Cheng and Lan Xichen acquire a baby of unknown origin, and are the very last to know what it means.

Beyond the Impossible by Silverine

Summoned by Lan Qiren, Jiang Wanyin goes to the Cloud Recesses to drop his nephew Jin Ling, expecting to discuss relevant matters with his old master. Instead, he's asked to take with him no other than Sect Leader Lan himself, all the way back to Lotus Pier. If the reason why he accepted such an outrageous task is indeed a mystery, he's about to be surprised by how this entire trip, their encounters, and his warm company, suddenly feel fated.

Incrementally by xxdz

Jiang Cheng is trapped in a day on repeat where he begins by waking in Zewu Jun’s bed at dawn and ends by dying painfully at dusk.

It’s getting very irritating, and he has the sneaking suspicion that his chances to solve his own murder are rapidly running out. Soon, his death will be much more permanent.

All in all, worst birthday ever.

Audience of One by WinterDreams

“Then let an established star go first,” Lan Xichen interrupts again before Lan Wangji can give a stubborn reply. Both men twist toward Lan Xichen, and he smiles at Wei Wuxian’s tilted head. “If I publicly date a man for awhile first, your engagement shouldn’t receive as much backlash.”

Or, that AU where everyone is famous in some way or another, Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji have been dating in private for years, and Lan Xichen and Jiang Cheng pretend to date publicly for their brothers' sake.

A Bit of Ruthlessness by jirluvien

When Jiang Cheng hears that Lan Xichen went into seclusion following Jin Guangyao’s death, it’s almost as if he can see the grabby hands of a restless ghost, reaching out for something to keep him company. For something warm and living and devastated. And as history has proved time and time again, the Lans are perfect victims when it comes to giving in to ghosts.Yeah, no. Not on Jiang Cheng’s fucking watch.A story about grief, determination, unexpected friendships, abandoned watchtowers, and letters. So many letters.

All Tied Up In You by Clearpearls

Yet again, the night had come to this:

Jiang Cheng on the floor, kneeling, Zidian wrapped around his wrists.

Alone.

Thank You, and I'm Sorry by Hamliet

Jin GuangYao might be dead, but his story is not. Taking advantage of the chaos he instigated, someone makes an attempt on the life of the young new leader of the Jin Sect. When Jiang Cheng takes Jin Ling to the Cloud Recesses to have him study while he attempts to work with Wei WuXian and his husband Lan WangJi to eliminate the threat, he encounters a mourning Lan XiChen, lovestruck teenagers, and a persistent corpse--and both pairs of brothers find themselves struggling to move on.

saturn's rings (don't be a heartbreaker) by iskendaris

Set after the seige of burial mounds, Yunmeng rebuilds as they hold the first Discussion Conference at Lotus Pier. Sometimes the night is a gift, a refuge for loneliness. "So stern, Sect Leader Jiang," Lan Xichen murmured, "So glacial... What will it take to melt that icy exterior? What can I say?"

"Nothing. There's nothing you can say or offer."

reciprocity by jukeboxhound

There’s a pause before Lan Xichen says, in a tone that’s a little more neutral, “I would like to paint on you.”

“…What?”

“Of course, if you say ‘yes’ but then change your mind at any point, for any reason, you need only say so and I will stop immediately,” he adds.

Well, silver lining: Jiang Cheng is feeling much more awake than he was a moment ago.

Talent Hunt Crew Finds Angry Guy Shouting On College Campus, Recruits Him For Vocal Projection Abilities by oh_fudgecakes

Jiang Cheng, resident Angry Guy and heir to a conglomerate empire, has never been the apple of his father’s eye. Quashed under the shadow of his brilliant brother, the music prodigy Wei Wuxian, Jiang Cheng sees his chance to turn things around when he is recruited by the All-Stars Lan Talent Hunt. One problem: he can’t sing to save his goddamn life.

As he struggles to develop his nascent singing abilities, Jiang Cheng finds himself sucked into the whirlwind drama of reality TV, helped along by his adoring siblings, his irritable vocal coach Wen Qing, and strangely enough, the unfairly attractive host of the All-Stars Lan Talent Hunt, Lan Xichen. Somewhere in the glare of the stage lights and an unexpected first love, Jiang Cheng stumbles upon the thing he was searching for all along: the courage to dream — and to attempt the impossible.

Marginal Costs by ohwhatevrewhatevr

“You think you know what you want, Er-Ge,” A-Yao says. “But you should consider what you’re willing to give first,” he says wryly, taking Lan XiChen’s chess piece with slim, skilled fingers.

Lan XiChen looks up at A-Yao’s concentrated expression and the hint of contentment on his face that he is special enough to be allowed to see.

“It’s not just one decision, but the lead up to many more. One decision decides what else you’re going to have to pay, and each time you have to ask yourself, ignoring the sunk costs, if this time it’s worth it as well.”

When his sworn brother looks up at him with those clear, amber eyes, waiting, Lan XiChen feels the pull and gives in: he asks.

“Are you happy being in love?”

(First half is two sad sworn brothers talking, internally mourning how unfortunate their other sworn brother’s death was :/ and second half is when a mopey boy in blue meets an angsty boy in purple whilst chasing a demonic cultivator, and a lil bit of sexy dual cultivation happens.)

Somewhat Tender by theherocomplex

There is no defense against kindness; it has always undone him.

I didn't expect you to be lonely (too) by bettydice (BettyKnight)

Jiang Cheng's life is a mess, he's a mess, and he doesn't miss his brother at all. So when his sister gifts him ten sessions with a massage therapist, who turns out to be someone he was crushing on for a hot minute as a teenager and is still as hot as ever... yeah, that might as well happen. It won't have to mean anything.

This feels intimate to Jiang Cheng in a way that's probably very inappropriate and maybe even pathetic. Nobody touches him like this, right where he’s hurt the most. There's no one who handles him so gently, so carefully.

It's the gentleness that's his undoing, he thinks. He would be able to deal better with it if it was painful.

Life for Rent by yodasyoyo

“Yeah well. You’re not taking me seriously. This guy is my soulmate!”

“Soulmate.” Jiang Cheng rolls his eyes. “Whatever.”

“Just because you don’t believe in them—”

“I believe in them!” Jiang Cheng says. “I’ve never denied they exist.”

“Just last week you said that it was an evolutionary quirk that had been used by greetings card companies, movie makers, and corporations to exploit lonely and vulnerable people.”

“And I stand by it! That doesn’t mean that soulmates aren’t real. Just incredibly unlikely and probably pointless.

Or:

Xicheng vs Soulmates. Fight!

Halfway Around the World by theherocomplex

Normally, Jiang Cheng would be seething, jaw clenched tight, if someone sounded like that while they were talking, but — Lan Xichen has the trick of always making you feel like you're in on the joke, whatever the joke is. That you're laughing together.

Whelmed by yodasyoyo

For months now Jiang Cheng’s been idly fantasizing about how it would be if something were to come between Wei Ying and Lan Zhan. Mostly those daydreams have been simple enough — they break up (probably because Lan Zhan is boring or Wei Ying is annoying), Wei Ying is sad for a couple of days (Jiang Cheng’s willing to allow some space for feelings, he isn't a total monster), but then Wei Ying realizes he’s better off, he gets over it, and Jiang Cheng gets his brother back.

Unfortunately the fantasy version of events has only proven partially true, so far. They've broken up. Wei Ying has been sad.

Now weeks have passed, though — and Wei Ying is still sad, every. Single. Day.

It’s like Jiang Cheng's stuck in a looping GIF, and it’s driving him insane.

Or:

Jiang Cheng plots, Lan Huan pines, and, unfortunately for Lan Qiren, Wangxian are inevitable.

#xicheng #fic recs #mdzs #mdzs recs #jiang cheng #lan xichen #obvs these reflect my personal preferences etc etc

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pm-my-hubbies · 3 years

Text

Who Are You Talking To | C.E

Summary: Reader is fed up with Chris not spending time with her on her week-long break.

Pairing: Chris Evans x Black!Reader

Word Count: 1.8k

Warning(s): None!

A/N: I accidentally shared this through my personal account! I apologize for any confusion if I tagged you the first time!

Chris was ecstatic when I informed him of the dates for my Fall Break.

He planned out everything we would do together. From planting a blanket in the middle of a park for a lovely picnic to strolling through farms for a pumpkin to carve and sit on our porch. He did all of that.

Yet he’s one strike away from me slapping the shit out of him. He’s been blowing me off every second and I’m due to return for work in two days. We hadn’t done any of what he promised we would accomplish together weeks ago. Instead, he handled work business downstairs for the first part of the day and followed that up with indulging in his own hobbies. I wasn’t a part of any of it.

To add on to it, his Zoom sessions weren’t successful and that prompted him to radiate negativity. Dinner time consisted of him giving me short answers or grunts and through it all, I remained optimistic. I figured being positive and not calling him out on his behavior right then would flip a switch in him to acknowledge how he was acting towards me but nothing happened.

My feet connected with the cold wooden flooring, goosebumps rising on the parts of my body that were exposed because of the tank top and pajama shorts I wore. The clock read 11:54 p.m. I’m praying Chris let Dodger out for the last time this evening.

The volume of the television in the living room increased the closer I dragged my feet to where I presumed he would be resting. Turning the corner, Dodger was the first one I spotted as he slept soundly on his stuffed animal right by the entrance to the room. Chris, on the other hand, watched CNN on blast as if he was an old man struggling to hear; his arms were folded across his chest while he laid on his side and blankly stared at the bright screen.

I rolled my eyes at the absurdity of my week spent at home. “Chris.” I called in a firm voice that was loud enough for Dodger to only blink his eyes open and instantly travel back to Dreamland.

My boyfriend only shifted his gaze to look at me. “Hm?”

“Did you let Dodge out one last time?”

“Mm-mm.”

Breathe Y/N, breathe. I let out a soft sigh as I bent down to gently shake the canine awake. “Dodger, honey. Let’s go outside.” I knew from Chris’ response he wouldn’t be letting our dog out anytime soon. The man would probably drag himself down the hall to bed as the sun rose for a new day.

Dodger simply obeyed my soft command by standing and putting on a show of dramatically stretching. As we made our way towards the back door right behind my miserable boyfriend, I made sure to cut my brown eyes at his lounging figure and hoped he could feel my glare.

Once again, my skin tingled as the cool night air caressed my legs and arms. To keep myself warm, I folded my limbs across my chest, rocking on the balls of my feet. My eyes managed to follow Dodger’s sniffing silhouette in the darkness but as soon as he began the squat for a number two, I looked away.

By now, Chris had shut off the loud tv. Finally.

“I thought you said we would be hanging out for my Fall Break?” I questioned with my back facing him as I kept my eyes on the dog.

“What?”

“I thought you wanted to hang out with me for my break. Week-long, might I add.”

“We are.”

“No we’re not, Chris. And you know it.” I sighed as I moved to slide the door closed but ceased my movement to leave an opening for Dodger in case he finished early. With my hands on my hips, I rotated around to stare down Chris. “You’ve spent every single day downstairs taking care of business with A Starting Point and work, which I have no problem with. It’s what you do afterwards that bothers me. Barely talking to me or not at all and then you sit down here to do whatever. I was trying to be positive and give you your space but now—”

“But now your little feelings are hurt, right?” he snapped. “You’re hurt because I can’t devote 100% of my attention to you on your little break? News flash: everything isn’t about you, Y/N. So, stop your whining and actually think about what I’m going through.”

This would’ve shattered a younger version of myself. But after years of reflection, I realized I was always given the opportunity to fight back instead of wallowing in my tears.

First, I glanced to my left. Then to my right. No sign of life. I grimaced at my boyfriend. “You must not be talking to me.” I indicated with a point towards my chest. “You must be talking to this goddamn wall.” I sassed, jabbing my thumb to the wall behind me.

Suddenly, for the first time in the year Chris and I have been together, his eyes were size of saucers as it dawned on him what he’d done. And how I responded.

Tonight, was his first time taking his anger out on me. Yes, we’ve had our arguments, but those moments were different. This happened to be the time where the world was against Chris and rather than rely on me to comfort him (as I usually would), he was victimizing himself. He probably expected my body to rack with sobs at the harshness of his words, but I was through with that shit tonight.

“Since you wanna pull a Karen on me, your ass can sleep on the couch tonight.” I punished him. In that moment, I felt the softness brushing against my legs. Dodger was finally in. I pulled the door closed all the way this time and locked it. “Come on Dodger, your dad is being an asshat. You can sleep with me.”

Chris was frozen in his spot as the both of us moved past him. I made sure to give him a little bump on the way with my shoulder.

While waiting for Dodger to grasp his animal in his mouth, I observed him throw Chris a quick glance as if telling him that he fucked up. Funnily enough, our dog was the first to exit the scene and hold his head high as he trekked to the bedroom.

“I’m locking that fucking door tonight. Don’t even try it. You made your bed, now lay in it.” I dictated.

~*~

Surprisingly, I slept like a baby. Maybe it’s because I finally said something to Chris about his behavior lately. The previous nights, he would slumber away while I laid awake wondering if we would even spend time together before I headed back to work. Calling him out felt right.

I took care of my morning routine before unlocking the bedroom door and calling for Dodger to wake up. What I didn’t expect on the other side was the tray we roll out for sick days to be standing in front of the door.

Dodger was planning on being difficult as he hadn’t moved from his spot. This gave me ample time to study the tray with a covered meal placed on top and a horizontally folded card with my name scribbled on it.

“You were right last night. I have been distant throughout your break and I’m sorry for ruining the plans I promised. It’s a short amount of time left with you but we’re going to get started early. Eat the breakfast I made for you and then freshen up by putting on your favorite dress. Meet me at the car by 11.”

I chuckled at the message but decided to follow his set of instructions, nonetheless.

~*~

As promised, Chris drove us to the pumpkin patch further away from where we lived for more privacy and intimate time together. We spent the whole ride discussing last night’s events and catching up on the conversations we were meant to have throughout my week in our house. When he parked the car, he suggested we snap as many couple selfies but made sure to emphasize the idea of him taking pictures of me.

“They’re for my phone.” He lied through his teeth as I raised a brow at his idea.

The truth: Chris yearned to share pictures of me on his Instagram. At least half of his feed consisted of me, Dodger, or nature and rarely ever himself. I worried he would lose followers for never updating them on how he was doing but he dismissed my worries with a kiss to my forehead and a, “It’ll be fine, who cares?”

For a while, we explored the farm with our hands linked and eyes moving about at the pumpkins of all shapes and sizes. It wasn’t until we’d reach the halfway point did I realize we didn’t have an exact clue as to which type of pumpkin we were searching for.

“I was thinking one of those big, tall pumpkins.” Chris answered after I asked him what our goal was.

“The ones that look like an orange squash?”

“Yeah.”

“Why…?”

“I don’t know, I’ve always wanted one.” He shrugged. His face held a gentle look of content.

“Well, if a squash-lookin’ pumpkin is what my big baby wants, then a squash-lookin’ pumpkin is what he shall get.”

Chris released my hand to wrap it around my waist and pull me closer to him. I felt my cheeks heat up as he placed a kiss to the crown of my head. After all this time together, he still managed to have me acting like a schoolgirl that somehow caught the attention of her longtime crush.

“Thank you baby.” He answered. “I know I already said this twice; through the note and in the car. But, I’m truly sorry for how I acted last night and the days before that. I was stupid in bottling everything up and not confiding in you like I normally do. Doesn’t justify any of what I said last night but I figured you had a lot on your plate and didn’t want to bother you with my own.”

I paused my walking to glance up at him with what I hoped was love in my eyes. “Chris, you could never bother me. As a couple, we talk to each other. Even if we’ve got problems of our own at the same time? I want you to come to me and I come to you so we can figure things out.” I stood on my toes to press a kiss to the underside of his jaw due to his towering figure. “I love you and accept your apology.

“I love you too.”

“You better. Because my ass wouldn’t be helping you find that ugly pumpkin to make you happy.”

“Hey!” he pouted before I shut him up with a kiss.

Taglist: @chaneajoyyy @daddyslittlecaptain @tantricevans @liquorlaughslove @nina-skyee @pinkgirlinablueworld @norababora @bakarilennox @rubyy98

#chris evans #chris evans one shot #chris evans x reader #chris evans x black reader #chris evans x woc reader #chris evans x you #chris evans x y/n #chris evans x female reader

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yhwhsdaughter · 3 years

Text

Wife material

𝕄𝕒𝕤𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕁𝕚𝕣𝕒𝕚𝕪𝕒

Requested by @iwannabeacowboahbaybee: Would you be comfortable writing a Jiraiya x reader where the reader pretends to be his wife for a mission. Then during the mission he realizes he actually would not mind settling down on with someone? Maybe the reader 👀? Please let me know if you’re not comfortable with this idea! Thank you ❤️❤️❤️

so this will be younger Jiraiya before the snake thot defected and all that

“Haah? You want me to be your what?”

You were enjoying the day, lounging in a hammock, reading a book when you were approached by Jiraiya.

Apparently he needed to infiltrate a village under the guise of a feudal lord. He’d been comisioned to pose as said person and obtain information crucial to the ongoing war between the two lands. The only problem was that the feudal lord was married.

“So? Can’t you hire someone? What about Tsunade?”

Jiraiya didn’t think it would be this hard to reclute you. The two of you had been friends for the longest time, so why were you being so apprehensive? “We don’t have chemistry. She’d probably punch me if I touched her and ruin the mission.”

You continued reading, making a face of understanding when he mentioned that. It did sound like something Tsunade would do. “If I hired a woman, it would take too long to fill her in. Plus, they’re not shinobi.”

“Neither am I.”

Jiraiya was getting exasperated. While not a shinobi, you practiced taijutsu so you were capable of protecting yourself.

“What about Orochimaru?” He was a talented ninja, skilled enough to take another figure if he desired. At the mention of his teammate, Jiraya shuddered. “Don’t even mention it.”

He sighed. “Please (Name), I need you.”

Hearing his pleas, you put your book down. Your face felt hot. “Stop begging, it’s unlike you. I’ll do it.”

The white haired nin had to use a transformation jutsu but you didn’t. Unlike your usual attire, you had to do wear elegant robes fit for a feudal lord’s wife. You donned them well, bringing out your best features.

“They’re uncomfortable.”

You weren’t used to so many layers wrapped around your figure. Jiraiya looked you over, “Fits you really—” his words died in his mouth when you jabbed his side. Looking at Jiraiya, it was weird seeing him as someone else. He too, was dressed differently than his normal outfit.

“I like you better as yourself.”

“That so?” you looked away from his analyzing eyes, “Don’t let it get to your head.”

The ride was rather boring.

Since it was going to be a long journey, you stopped at place for the night. Seeing as the two of you were ‘married’ it meant sharing a bed. It wasn’t a new concept to the both of you, having had many sleepovers during your teenager years. However, this time it was different.

The annoying white haired kid you once knew had become a man that you deeply desired. Though you’d never voice it, you would do anything for him. But Jiraiya didn’t belong to anyone. He was a ladies man; he couldn’t be tied down.

Getting into bed, you prayed that Jiraiya wouldn’t sense your racing heart. Too late. You felt yourself being pulled into the arms of your companion. “Oh?? Are you nervous (Name)?”

His heart, too, couldn’t sit still so you retorted, “Shut up. Yours is also beating fast.”

Jiraiya fell silent but did not release you.

No, he longed to hold you this close since you first smiled at him. Jiraiya had gotten his ass beat in practice pulling him into a bad mood.

You found him sulking. “Stop pouting. What are you, a child?” He didn’t respond to your teasing as he normally would. You poked him with a stick. “Oi.”

“What can I do to cheer you up..” you wondered aloud.

Hearing this, Jiraiya got a devious look on his face. “I want you to smile for me.” Seemingly surprised by this, you moved backwards, eyes wide. Jiraiya thought you wouldn’t do it. He knew you to be a serious girl, after being orphaned, so it wasn’t often that you smiled freely like the rest.

Jiraiya didn’t realize this back then, but you were happy to smile for him. Despite you insisting that he was a dummy, Jiraiya always found a way to brighten your day. What kind of friend would you be if you didn’t return the favor?

Smiling for Jiraiya, he felt his little heart beat faster, almost stop, before settling down. The sun held nothing to the warmth of your smile. He decided then that he would always love you.

Arriving to the village, important political figures of the land met at the imperial garden for a picnic. They’d all brought their families to discuss and celebrate.

One of your hands held onto Jiraiya’s arms, linking hands together, bodies pressed together. The wedding bands brushed against each other. Though you felt blissful your eyes scanned the area without trying to look suspicious.

You figured Jiraiya would join the men. Instead, he led you downwards. The white haired nin placed his head on your lap, closing his eyes. Had it not been for those present, you would’ve thrown him off.

Feeling awkward, you began to play with his hair. If it was possible, Jiraiya snuggled closer, freezing you. “You’re enjoying this a little too much aren’t you?”

“Not my fault you’re comfortable.”

By now, most of the wives, husbands, and children had moved to the other side of the garden. Jiraiya nudged you, making you lean down to hear him better. He whispered in your ear, his breath tickling your skin.

“Everyone’s gone. We should use this chance to consummate our marria-ACK!”

Pushing him, Jiraiya landed face first onto the grass before you mounted him to slap his dirty thoughts away. “You’re—on a mission— stop it!”

The best he could do was grab at your hands. Some of the guests must have heard the commotion because they peaked in to see you straddling Jiraya.

Distracted, you lost your balance. Jiraiya’s hands gripped your hips tightly to help but it only looked worse. The position, your red face, Jiraiya’s smug smile was all they needed to know before leaving the area again.

“Pardon the interruption!” “We’ll leave you now!”

You couldn’t even explain. Shooting your partner a glare, Jiraiya quietly explained that he needed to make a distraction so one of his toads could steal a scroll. “It was the only way to rile you up!”

“My ass-!” He could’ve just asked and you would have gone along with the plan.

“Yeah it’s very nice 👍 ”

Jiraiya hurried to meet the other men before you actually strangled him. It was boring but he payed close attention to every word that came out of their old mouths.

One of the leaders glanced at something, causing the rest to follow. It was you comforting a crying child.

You never imagined having kids, but you had an innate talent for calming them down. The little girl stopped crying, giving you a smile which you returned. It was a sweet scene, kind of dazzling in its own way. Those around couldn’t help but be affected and attracted.

“You got a good one feudal lord.” “Yes. I’d take her if she wasn’t married to you.”

Jiraiya laughed amicably but on the inside he was fuming. It was one thing for him to tease you, his life long friend and another for these old farts to ogle at you.

Sensing their states, you turned. Your eyes instantly became colder, sending shivers down their spines as if you knew what they were saying.

As the mission was complete; Jiraiya had extracted all the information he could, he transformed back.

Everyone, including you, stared at him with saucer eyes. You were confused. He wasn’t supposed to reveal his identity at all?? A bodyguard, figuring it out, jumped to attack but you kicked him away.

A fight ensued.

Jiraiya got the chance to use his abilities freely. By the end, every threat was down. You looked exhausted, it was difficult to fight in a long ceremonial robe. Not to mention that Jiraiya’s toads had made a mess. “Did... did you have to go all out?”

He didn’t.

The reason why Jiraiya went through all this trouble was to get back at those men for speaking too intimately of you. But, you didn’t need to know that so he gave you a shameless grin.

“Ugh. You’re so troublesome you know that?”

“But you love me~”

Things went back to normal when you returned to Konoha. You kept the ring, not taking it off and staring at it from all kinds of angles. It was fitting. Jiraiya did the same, which caused some comments from Orochimaru. Oh boy.

At night, you both missed the warmth of each other.

It took a while for Jiraiya to realize that he wouldn’t mind settling with you. Even if you didn’t want marriage, he would be happy just to be at your side. To sleep next to you for as long as he lived. Deciding it was time to say this, he ran to your house.

You laid in bed, bored. Your thoughts eventually led you to reminisce on the mission. Wife. Jiraiya’s wife. Wife of Jiraiya? You voiced it aloud, trying to decided which one sounded better. “Aaagh! It’s no use!” It was best to take a walk to clear your head.

Opening the door, something hit your forehead a bit hard. You nearly stumbled back, “Ow!” Jiraiya blinked in surprise. “Oh! My bad.”

You opened one eye, “Jiraiya it’s you.. I was— come in.”

It was aaaaawkward.

Jiraiya sat in front of you, silent. You stated at him, wondering why he showed up. He merely toyed with the glass of water you’d offered. You bit your lip anxiously. It was your chance to confess.

“So about the mission—”

“I want you—“

Both of you stopped midsentence. Jiraiya cleared his throat. “I want to settle with you. Marriage, kids, living together.. whatever you want. As long as I can be with you.”

You could not help your excitement. “I want that too!!”

“I mean, it’s whatever. Yeah I could live with you and stuff...”

The white haired nin couldn’t help but laugh.

He loved you.

And you loved him.

#naruto #jiraiya x reader #jiraiya x you #naruto jiraiya

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sadistgalore · 3 years

Text

Chapter 15: Luther's Brilliant Fucking Plan

Previous | Next | Masterlist

Taglist: @tropes-for-my-md-daydreams, @whumptakesthecake

Please let me know if you would like to be added/removed from the taglist.

CW: dehumanization, pet whump, lady whump, captivity whump, referenced torture (branding and burning), hair pulling/grabbing, referenced noncon, blackmailing, death threats, multiple whumpers, multiple whumpees, manhandling, shock collars, infidelity, creepy/intimate/delusional/sadistic/possessive whumper(s), noncon touching, noncon kissing, stabbing, implied torture/noncon

“So, how was she?” Dark asked as he sat down in the chair opposite Luther on the couch, both of their pets kneeling next to them.

He had returned from Maryland not even five minutes ago, giving a short greeting to his friend and a heartfelt kiss to his housewife.

“Oh, she was wonderful, Ed. You trained her well,” Luther said with a shit eating grin.

Dark chuckled, pleased that his defiant pet behaved so well for his best friend. Her hands were twisting and pulling the fabric of her dress, but he couldn’t care less at the visible discomfort on her face.

“I’ve noticed she has a few more scars than when I left her, including a brand,” he said in a low voice, face in a scowl once he stared at the designed burn on her right arm.

Luther didn’t look the least bit threatened at his friend’s dangerous tone. “Believe me, it was justified. She made a new friend,” he said in a mocking tone before harshly pulling at his pet’s hair.

Killian gasped as his scalp was pulled, every instinct telling him to sit still, though. His arms had healed fairly well, but the burns on his face would be deeply scarred for a while, if not forever.

“I see he had his own share of punishment as well,” Dark added, looking at the boy’s scarred face and arms.

“Your girl tried to feed him against my permission, then her defiance rubbed off on him. But I had them under my control soon enough,” Harper forced down a whimper as she recalled the horrific week of rape and torture she had spent with the man, who wasn’t sharing even a fraction as he should have with her captor. But she knew better than to say anything.

She then felt hands gripping her chin, taking her out of her thoughts. “Harper, did he touch you at all like the way I do?”

The girl swallowed as she stared at the familiar and possessive look on her captors face, before fearfully glancing over at the man on the couch. Luther’s face was emotionless, but she knew his mind was threatening her if she dared to tell the truth.

The kitty had finally stopped crying, knees tucked up to her chest on the bed. She and the dog, who was still tied to the chair, were staring at each other, regret in the dog’s and anger in the other.

“I’m gonna tell him, as soon as he gets back,” the kitty promised, throat scratchy and raw by the night they had shared together.

The man finished zipping his pants and rolled his eyes, not bothered to talk as he reached down to grab his shirt off the floor.

Kitty painfully sat up, pissed that he wasn’t paying attention to her. “I’m serious. He’s the only one allowed to rape me, he told you-”

Doggy screamed as his shock collar was set off yet again. Master grabbed his hair painfully, forcing him to look at Kitty.

“He. Is. Mine. Like you are Edward’s. Ed can do whatever the fuck he wants to do with you when I’m gone, just like I can do whatever the fuck I want to do with him. No one will care if I kill him, understand? If I even suspect that Edward knows what happened here tonight, and what will continue to happen, your precious little Ian is going to have a long and painful death. Understand?”

Kitty didn’t respond, just let out a small sob and rolled back over on the bed. The man smiled as he let go of the dog’s hair, walking out of the bedroom leaving two broken pets behind.

Harper breathed out, trying to not give away the emotion on her face, for Killian’s sake. “No, just the brand and a few beatings, Master. I was good for him just like you told me to.” It was forced, she knows, but best not to make him angry when he just got back.

Dark smiled, patting her head. “Very good girl. Sorry for the accusation, Lou, you know how I get about my pets.”

Luther laughed. “No worries, Ed. Besides, I would never dream of touching her.”

Killian’s heart dropped as he stared at the girl, watching her try so hard to keep a straight face and not tell what really happened.

All for him.

Dark changed the subject matter quickly. “Anyways, did you hear the news? Helene’s going away to Philadelphia for three weeks.”

Harper looked up confused. Helene? As in Congresswoman Helene McKinley? Beth’s boss?

“Really?” Luther questioned. “She never leaves DC.”

“Had to take care of a personal matter. She ensured the subject will be one of ours soon.”

“Very good. What does that leave you then?”

“I was thinking of taking Harper back to my base again,” Dark started, fingers flowing through his pet's raven hair to keep himself calm. “Possibly my manor, but you know how my gang loves to talk. And with how often Noah comes around, he’ll be sure to share my new pet with Noami. I’m afraid it’s too much of a risk to my marriage to take her anywhere but here.”

Luther chuckled. “Noami will never stop running her mouth to Helene if she finds out. ‘Helene did you hear? Your Edward found himself another slut to fuck behind your back! If you don’t murder his ass right now, I will do it for you!’” He finished the imitation with a smile, but Harper couldn’t tell if it was genuine or not when she stared at him.

Dark laughed at the scene, but continued. “Unfortunately, coming here to Delaware constantly prevents me from running my base in DC. I can’t let her be another one of my one-offs, she’s,” the man stopped to grasp her chin again, thumb running over her lip, “Special.”

Luther sat in silence for a moment, then spoke up as if a lightbulb had just casted a light over his head. “How about taking her to my building? The top floor is a private penthouse that I only have access to, with tons of rooms and space for you two to live. You’ll be easily able to travel between your base and there, and I could watch her while you’re gone!”

Watch her while you’re gone. Harper wished she had the nerves to scream her protests against the idea. But in reality, which one is the lesser of two evils? A sadistic man who sees her as nothing but a kitty, or a delusional man who sees her as a housewife that he can kill at any moment?

Dark scratched her chin, pondering the idea. Killian stared blankly ahead, a distant part of him hoping his Master’s idea would work; maybe he could see Harper more.

“You know, Lou, I think I’ll take your deal,” Edward said after a moment of silence. “Are you sure it’s not a problem for you?”

Luther waved him off. “Don’t worry about it. I barely use it anyways. You can even use it after Helene comes back or for as long as you need.”

“Thank you, Luther,” Dark said with a genuine smile, not the creepy one he always uses on Harper. “I owe you one.”

Luther nodded, scratching his pet's hair one last time before getting up. “Well, I should be getting back. Give me a call when you’re coming, and I’ll be sure to sneak you in.”

Dark got up as well, going out to shake his friend's hand. “You’re the best friend I’ve ever had, Luther. We’ll be there by tomorrow evening.”

You’re the best friend I’ve ever had, Beth.

Luther shook back with a smile. “Oh, I know. I’ll be looking forward to seeing you.”

I know, Harp. Now come on, we gotta catch the bus to get back home.

How do I get back home to you, Beth?

“Come on, Kill.” Killian rushed to get up, back hunched as he stood next to his master. As Dark walked towards the door to open it for him, Luther quickly turned around towards Harper, his dangerous gaze vastly different from his friendly one just a minute ago.

“If you say anything, I’ll kill him,” Luther whispered, hand gripping Killian’s neck as he raised an eyebrow at Harper.

Harper gave a slight nod, staring at Killian before mouthing, Goodbye, Ian.

The boy swallowed against the tight hold. Goodbye, Harper.

Luther rolled his eyes and pushed the boy towards the door, giving Dark one final goodbye before leaving. The said man closed and locked the door, loosening his tie as he walked back to his pet.

Harper’s instincts were screaming at her to run away from his predatory walk, but she stayed kneeling before her hair was harshly grabbed and she was pulled to her feet. “Oh, darling,” Dark said with a sick smile. ”It’s been so long since I’ve heard you scream.”

The pain on her scalp was relieved just before she was thrown across the room, back hitting the couch before falling to the floor. She shakingly looked up, expecting anger from her captor, but all she saw was lust. The extreme lust to hurt her.

Harper whimpered, lips trembling as she moved back until she hit the TV stand behind her. Why did this have to be her life? She was a good person- she was a detective for God’s sake. She devoted her life to searching for her brother who everyone said was dead. She worked to expose the most dangerous and corrupt people in her city with her best friend. And now she was a fucking pet for one of them, the same man that ruined her life seven years ago.

The girl heaved in before she broke down sobbing, her fight leaving as her reality came crashing down. The previous discussion was two sick men talking about moving her, so no one will know where she is. Or even alive. And if she wasn’t useful to him anymore, she would die.

Dark cooed as he kneeled down, fingers brushing the hair out of her face. “Oh, sweetheart, I know. You’re just so excited to see me. Don’t worry, I’ll make up for all the time we missed.”

Harper couldn’t even plead for mercy before her vision partially blacked out. Her head erupted in pain as it was slammed into the stand behind her. Through the fog that formed in her vision, she felt herself be laid down on the ground, and a heavy weight be placed on her waist.

She heard a murmur from above her. “Daddy missed his toy.” Dark’s face leaned down, lips trailing her neck. She felt his breath on her face that smelled of tobacco. Then she was forced to listen to her shirt being ripped open.

The man kissed her lips, passionately and with emotion that shouldn’t come from a man like him. His tongue slid in, trailing her gums and teeth and making sure to consume every part of her. Harper suddenly screamed when a knife was plunged into her shoulder, shrills and pleas being drowned out by the kiss as the knife dug deeper into her skin.

Dark pulled back, stomach filling with joy as he saw the tears cover her face, his finger going to trace the wound in blood. He made sure to coat himself in it before touching her face again, smearing her own blood there. He smiled maniacally as Harper’s scream almost shook the room when his thumb dug into the wound, every movement causing her face to contort in unbearable pain.

She’s never looked so beautiful.

“I love you, Evie,” he said before hungrily kissing the girl on the floor again, screams never stopping as she writhed under the man who would never let her go.

---

Nic almost fell off his chair as he heard a knock on his front door. His hair was a mess, eyes sunken and colored due to many sleepless nights, and clothes that had not been changed since five days ago. He scrambled to open it, seeing the familiar blonde and curly hair of the secretary.

“Beth,” Nic said in almost disbelief. From their falling out yesterday, he had figured she wouldn’t want to see him at all. But the girl looked at him with a sudden determination he had not seen the previous day.

“Let’s find Harper and expose these fucking bastards.”

Nic smiled and stepped back to let her in. “After you, Mrs. Carrien.”

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raijinden · 3 years

Text

e - heh . ;nsfw !!

undoubtedly dominant in all things learned over her 700+ year reign, and the bedroom is no different -- she is loathe to give up that sense of control that has grown to feel so stable to her . it is not an entirely impossible prospect though -- just do not expect to see the shogun beneath you in the first few times you are intimate with her, and certainly do not expect her to be some crying and submissive virgin

absolutely the slowest burn you could imagine, and then some . if you are invited to share her bed, it is because she knows you, has become incredibly familiar with you and has above all, placed her absolute trust and faith in you . sex, while incredibly intimate, is the most prime opportunity to do incredibly un - intimate things ( assassination, for example ) . but that makes it all the sweeter when you are invited to lay with her-- yet even as her partner, it will take a fair amount of talk and discussion for her to allow you to use anything related to your vision, if you have such a thing, on her .

she is, in all positions, very quiet . it is not so much through her voice and sounds that you will get your reactions, but rather through her body . a stutter in her breath, the flutter of her eyelids, muscle tensing and the way hands curl in or grasp to something, they’re all ways to gauge her pleasure . while normally her eyes are that dull, nigh lifeless shade of lavender, when she is wrought with emotion, as in the situation with the vision reclamation, her eyes will come to life with light . and, it should come as no surprise, in sex it is no different-- they are vibrant with amethyst and crimson mixing as one at her peak . it is also a way to tell when she’s turned on, though many might be led to believe the light up with an emotion such as annoyance or something else

you have, at your disposal, perhaps the simultaneously greatest and worst person you could possibly fall into bed with if you happen to be a connoisseur of erotic electrostimulation ( really, yall should have seen this one coming a mile away ) . she is the very embodiment of electro, and controls it just as easily as she breathes . she knows what it can do to the body, negative and positive, and knows exactly where to send a controlled shock to induce pleasure and pain-- do not ask her to shock you anywhere but your lower half, she will not, and is like to throw the whole possibility out for asking her to be irresponsible with you like that .

if you are her partner, expect a certain measure of possessiveness . certainly nothing overbearing, like demanding you live on the tenshukaku grounds and stay locked in a room from danger like some sort of pet . however, you will be marked with her sigil-- a shining violet electro mitsudomoe . you are asked first where you would prefer it, and she makes no pretense about its implications nor that she will do it . to keep the claims of others away-- almost like a ward of hers . if you bear it, you will not be struck by the lightning no matter where in teyvat you are-- the tatarigami will not touch you, the wily spirits of inazuma will not dare trifle with you . but it’s mostly to be used by her as an alarm of sorts-- it has much the same effect as if you were inazuman by blood: she can sense when you are in danger, and since you are her most beloved, she will without hesitation come to your aid .

funny enough, it is embarrassingly easy to get the ear of the shogun being that she is an archon and invoking her name, generally in prayer, will let your words reach her . as i said, generally in prayer, but there is certainly nothing to stop you from whispering filthy fantasies and praising words to her ear no matter where in the world you are, and she isn’t like to tune it out unless its from an unwarranted source . she’s not an easy thing to ‘ turn - on ‘ so to speak, but enough of this and she may be inclined to do something like respond belatedly if she’s in the middle of a meeting, so focused on your words as she would be .

branching a little in part from the possessiveness, she will often refer to you by a pet name unless you staunchly oppose it . something uniquely for you that she does not even think of referring to any other by . not something as common as ‘ sweetheart ‘ or ‘ baby ‘, no it is tailored based on how she views you . take, for example ( and definitely not referring to any people in particular wink - wink - nudge - nudge ;)))) ) ‘ my siren ‘, ‘ my vixen ‘ or ‘ my rook ‘ . notice the use of my in all of them ? good .

depending when you do fall into bed with her, you may notice the more ... animalistic traits of hers the stems from the power of the beastly first archon within her . sharp and ebony black canines that she tends to file down when they get out of hand and poke painted nails that grow out in a nasty point and are a natural shade of light purple . she has no problem in using them to further mark you, bruise you, leave physical evidence, especially if you specifically ask he to let them grow out and use on you ( which she is willing to do ) . if you are very lucky ? hidden and wolfish tail that is generally tucked away into her attire will react .

oh don’t doubt that she knows just how desirable she looks; she very much finds a fair bit of enjoyment in teasing her significant other with her body when they are alone . yes, yes, her almighty booba and yadda - yadda - yadda-- she knows well just how much of a magnet they are for salacious eyes, and she is unafraid to use her appearance to tease at her partner/s . she’s tall enough to loom over most people she happens across, and if she happens to trap you against the wall or the bed, leaning down until she is pressed up against you and murmuring sweet nothings and other such things in your ear .

while using ‘ baal ‘ is one way of trying to get into her head during intimacy, it is inarguable that it’s more effective to use her given name ( tomoe // ei ) due to the implications . that you call her by that name rather than her title as deity equates to you viewing her as human, and an equal . which, at its core, is what she views you as, if you become her partner .

perhaps something of a ‘ dirty - little - secret ‘, she has always had a certain ... appreciation for bondage, in any capacity . whether it is a simple manner of an electro - binding, an coat or sash, or as intricate as certain rope - bindings can get to be, she has an interest in it . in much the same vein as vision usage during sex, it will take a lengthy amount of discussion and where to draw the line, but she is willing to be tied up as well . and, for your information, she has certainly done her research and knows most of the knots, and even developed a couple of her own .

if such a thing is ever needed, her go - to safeword is ‘ narukami ‘ . as egotistic as it seems, she knows she is not likely to call out such a thing in the heat of the moment . as such, don’t call her that or any variation thereof in bed .

something i myself am kind of tentative about but -- i base a lot of headcanons off information that i learned when i first started writing in genshin with my zhongli / morax blog . in particular, especially since REX INCOGNITO spoke of rex lapis descending to the mortal world to travel it in many different forms, including a man, a woman and a child, i have toyed with the idea of such a thing being within the power of any archons . that is, the altering of one’s appearance, and since barbatos was able to mold his appearance based on his cherished bard, i could see it feasibly work-- so it’s more of a tentative thought than true headcanon at this point but if her significant other so desired it, she could alter herself . she is not terribly comfortable in another form for extended periods though, and she would respond solely to she / her / hers pronouns .

#|| 𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚎𝚛𝚟𝚊 – 𝚘𝚘𝚌 #|| 𝚒𝚖𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚊𝚝𝚛𝚒𝚡 𝚞𝚖𝚋𝚛𝚘𝚜𝚊 -- 𝚑𝚌.#;nsfw #hi theres a lot here #oh yeah i shoulda added it but miss is a pansexy queen #anyway i didnt want to get it too long so theres stuff i aint write but #chinhands @ u all

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kiribakuhappiness · 4 years

Note

I would love if you wrote that idea you had a while ago where kiri was fake dating and bakugo thought it was real

(Kiribaku Drabble Prompt)

Katsuki would be lying if he said he hadn’t seen this coming. Of course it would happen with Kirishima, too; the literal ball of sunshine who couldn’t keep his hands or his affection to himself. And it wasn’t like it was just Kirishima, either.

A shit ton of people in their classes were fucking dating. It was a totally dumb, normal thing for people to do in high school.

A totally dumb, normal thing for people to do in high school that Katsuki somehow fucking forgot was a totally dumb, normal thing for people to do in high school. So the first time he saw Kirishima walking down the hall holding Steel-Kirishima’s hand and laughing loudly in that way he did when he was pleased and flustered, he’d justified the sudden punch-like swooping of air leaving his lungs with the fact that he’d never given dating or anything similar any kind of thought until the idea of it was literally thrust in front of his face.

It had nothing to do with the fact that it was Kirishima. It didn’t. Because Kirishima was his friend, his best friend, the first one he’d ever had that wasn’t some how psychologically taxing or morally questionable. And like hell was he going to let something like Kirishima having a goddamn boyfriend get in the way of that. He’d earned that friendship, had pummeled through defense mechanisms and exterior walls he hadn’t even realized he’d been constructing until they already stood 20-feet tall just to have it.

So it was completely rational for him to burst into Kirishima’s room without knocking any time he realized Steel-Kirishima and him were alone in there, and it was completely reasonable for him to always take the middle seat on the couch between them during movie nights with the Bakusquad, and it was completely fucking appropriate for him to take Kirishima’s cellphone and lock it away in the toolbox in his closet when he’d catch Kirishima texting his boyfriend when they were supposed to be studying!

He was trying to save his friendship from being ripped apart by the ever-looming presence of another person in their two-people-comfortable space.

But when Monoma had made a big scene in Lunch Rush about how he’d yet to see Kirishima and Steel-Kirishima kiss, and when the two idiots had grown impossibly red in the face, chuckling nervously, before Kirishima had shrugged and leaned across the table to press his lips against the other’s -

There was nothing logical about the way that Katsuki had reacted to that.

He hadn’t meant to shove himself so hard out of his seat that he had knocked over several people’s trays onto the floor, though he’d hardly even registered that he’d done it at the time. He hadn’t known where his feet were taking him when he’d started across the room, straight to where Kirishima now spent most of his lunches eating with the Class B extras. He hadn’t known what he’d meant to accomplish by slamming an explosion onto the table between the two of them, successfully lurching them away from each other and startling the entire cafeteria.

He really hadn’t known what he’d been expecting when he grabbed Steel-Kirishima by the collar of his uniform, reared his right fist back, and smashed his knuckles so hard into his cheek that the resounding crack and break of flesh and bone against hardened steel had made Monoma faint on the spot.

He really hadn’t known what the fuck he’d been thinking at all, but now that he sat on the bed in Recovery Girl’s office, his newly healed knuckles wrapped in tight bandages, with Kirishima sitting uncharacteristically silent beside him, he had to finally admit to himself that maybe the ever-present crushing weight in his chest whenever he saw Kirishima with his new boyfriend didn’t have anything to do with their friendship at all.

“I- is your hand okay?” Kirishima asked, even as his grip on the sheets of the nursery bed became impossibly tighter.

Katsuki clenched his jaw and continued to glare down at the floor between his boots. He’d yet to even look at Kirishima since the redhead had hurried to usher him away from the rapidly growing chaotic scene that had burst forth as a result from his actions. He was such a fucking coward. He hated that.

“Bakugou? What... uh, what the heck, man?” Kirishima continued, sounding almost breathless.

Katsuki still didn’t say anything. If his hand wasn’t already so damn sore, he’d probably think about punching Kirishima too, for making him feel like this. Fuck.

“Listen, Tetsu -”

Katsuki snarled. “It was fucking stupid, it won’t happen again just, fuck, I’m sorry, okay?” He didn’t think his shoulders had ever been this tight before. He wished Kirishima would stop fucking looking at him like that; like he was searching for something, something Katsuki didn’t know how to give him. He wasn’t fucking romantic. He wasn’t dateable, in any fucking way. This was so stupid. “I just fucking...” He waved a hand aggressively in the air, not knowing how to fucking articulate this thing that is happening that is probably the worst thing to have ever happened to him.

“I think I should tell you that -”

Oh god, a rejection, fuck, this was so damn... fuck.

“Just don’t fucking worry about it,” Katsuki spat, finally dragging his eyes away from the ground just long enough to glare. “I don’t need anything... things are just... I can fucking -”

“Bakugou!” Kirishima’s hands on his face were foreign and disarming enough to shut him up, and he instantly felt fueled with embarrassment and rage at the amusement dancing around in Kirishima’s bright eyes. “Tetsutetsu and I aren’t dating!”

Katsuki blinked at him incredulously. “What the shit are you talking about?”

Kirishima’s laugh was loud and giddy as he finally let his hands fall back into his own lap. He kicked his feet in that stupidly childish way he did and he eyed Katsuki with a look that made him think that, for the first time in all of their bickering, Kirishima had the upper hand here.

“Tetsutetsu and I aren’t actually dating, dude. He needed my help with something, and you know I’d never leave a bro hanging!” His grin grew even wider and more mischievous as he leaned into Katsuki’s shoulder with his own, but his voice was decidedly calmer and lower when he finally said, “You know you’re the only guy for me, Bakugou.”

Katsuki's palms crackled uselessly. “F-fuck you, I don’t know what... I don’t fucking - you piece of shit! Why didn’t you fucking tell me?!” He roared, and his cheeks felt impossibly hot, hotter than his hands even, when Kirishima laughed even harder, his own cheeks dusted a pink blush.

Katsuki raised his hand with every intention of slamming the most destructive blast he could possibly muster right into the center of Kirishima’s stupidly handsome face when he felt the familiar tingle of his quirk evaporating from the pores of his very being. Kirishima shot to his feet when Aizawa-sensei and Recovery Girl walked into the room, Aizawa’s scarf trailing along in the air in the tell-tale way it did when his quirk was activated.

“Sit down, Kirishima,” Aizawa instructed, exhausted with both of them already, as he closed the door behind him. “We have a lot to discuss.”

Katsuki and Kirishima groaned at the same time, but when Kirishima fell back down onto the cot, when his thigh pressed into Katsuki’s, it was hard for him to really feel that intimated by Aizawa’s reckless-problem-child-speech 2.0. He tried not to let his teacher notice how often he glanced at Kirishima out of the corner of his eye, at least.

#fake dating #drabble prompts #kiribakuhappiness drabble prompts #kiribaku fake dating #kiribaku #bakugou katsuki #kirishima eijirou #bakugou x kirishima #asks

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kanthypantsalltheway · 3 years

Text

"Hi sending my Saphne request. I always wondered what would have happened I'd Anothony didn't catch Simon and Daphne kissing in the garden." This is for @egermain10

Daphne breathed heavily as Simon pulled her further into him, as if he would make her a part of him. It didn't matter that there was no space in between them and yet he pulled her into him and she loved it.nexcept it didn't last very long, he pushed himself from their shared embrace. He swore and closed his eyes and shook his head.

"Simon?"

"I am so sorry I shouldn't have-"

"No, i-i- liked it."

He gulped and look at her.

Suddenly Daphne felt very dumb, she breathed nervously and rubbed her hands against her gown,"Didn't you?" She asked, afraid of his answer.

"Ofcourse I did" he said and cursed, she couldn't exactly grasp the word but knew it to be a cursed, "that is the problem."

Now he was talking in circles, "How?"She questioned.

"Daphne, I am not supposed to lure you into here. I am not to touch you. You are my closest friend's sister. I cannot."

"But you want to. And you did."

He nodded, "And it won't happen again."

Daphne's cheeks burned with shame, so much for hoping he was hers.

"I will go out the back doors, you must go to the ball." He said.

She gulped and nodded, "if that is what you wanted."

Ofcourse that is not what he wanted. But he couldn't have it the way he dreamt. And in a flash, she ran inside whilst he was standing there wondering how had things escalated at such a pace.

---------------

"Really Basset? It's the dead of night." Will said as he saw Simon punching the bag.

"I know." Simon said.

"Is the punching bag somehow a Prussian prince?"

Simon glared at him but said nothing.

"Simon, stop."

When he did not , he repeated forcefully, "STOP!"

Simon stopped, panting hard.

"Do you really think boxing will stop you from the ruin that you are doing to yourself?" Will questioned.

Simon huffed, "what do you do then? When you are sick of it all?"

"In literal sense? I go to the doctor." He replied.

"You know that's not what I meant."

"Alright, here it is. When I feel sick of it all, I take some time to myself and question if I really want to stay this way my whole, life. And the answer is always no, so I calm myself down and lay my head against ny wife's shoulder. "

"And that cannot happen to me."

"Because you don't let yourself grasp it. If only you'd let yourself a chance to happiness. And no, don't tell me you are happy. You are retched."

"Sadly, we all don't have it easy like you, Will."

Will huffed, "Easy like me ? Really, I would think you were smarter than this! I have to rely on my talent for survival, on bets from the audience, while you have inherited it all. J have had to make sacrifices to come to this town, to have a family here. The only thing you need to sacrifice to have a happy life is your ego and your vow.yes-yes I know, I know. It hurts you and you made it to taunt your father. But for god's sake Simon, he is dead. DEAD. The only person you are hurting is yourself- and Daphne. What you father did , it was wrong and it must hurt you. But won't you even let yourself heal? You must Simon, for yourself, for the woman you love."

And with that Will left, presumably to seek the comfort of his wife, his life.

Simon glared at the door as it closed and punched the bag one last time before going back home.

______________________

It was the morning after and Simon's head hurt from all the whiskey he drank. His actions from past night not lost on him, in fact he dreamt what else could have happened had she been his. He would have taken his sweet time to explore her body. She was so naive, he would have explained her how everything worked and he would not have to be worried about child and marriage had he been in an alternate universe.

He called for his valet and proceeded to get ready for the day. He would leave today. Finally. Although he knew dreams of her would haunt him. What a dilemma, curse his father!

He called upon Will and Alice one last time (or so he thought) and went to Lady Danbury's, explaining that he was preoccupied with something else yesterday night to have left London, but today he would. Only for her to request (well demand, because she was lady Danbury)a walk in the park. So he conceeded.

"Hah, what an exceptionally pleasent weather." She commented.

"I'd have never imagined you of all people to find the weather interesting."he retorted.

She shook her hands dismissively,"oh look there! Miss Bridgerton and the prince."

Simon whipped his head around to find the Prince and Daphne standing close (too close) and having ice-cream. The prince looking at her as if she was the diamond, because she was. They approached the couple (lady Danbury's words not his) and greeted them.

Only Daphne did not bother looking at him, her hand tightening around the prince's arm as if she was disturbed by his arrival, which broke his heart into pieces and he had nowhere to lay them.

"Lady Danbury, your Grace, I hope you will be attending tonight's lady Harper's ball." The prince said in his foreign accent.

"Oh yes we will." Lady Danbury said undoubtedly.

Simon shot her a shocked look before hastily saying, "I am to leave London today, but Lady Danbury would surely attend."

But his godmother said,"He will ofcourse come tonight, do you really think he WANTS to leave?", Sending a smirk towards Daphne who was equally shocked."But do tell me are you to be engaged?" Lady Danbury questioned, she was always so straightforward, not afraid of anyone , not even the prince.

"Not yet" they said straightfaced but he could see Daphne blushing.

And it sent rage coursing through his veins. He didn't consider the thought of her actually getting married, a ring on her hand, sleeping next to the Prince, getting intimate with the Prince, bearing children for the Prince, the prince's seed inside of her- it was the very first time he considered that and it took all of his might to not draw her to him and explain why he was doing that.

He wondered for the first time ever- was the vow really worth it? Was it worth the happiness? Sure, he could never forgive his father. But would he really mind having children? The only worry he had with having children was would HE be a good father? His father was dead anyway, he had hurt him with his words, and hence his revenge was successful, would it serve him any good ? Or would it really just hurt him more?

Just then, Lady Danbury had decided to bid them goodbye, "Let us leave the couple alone Simon" it enraged him, hearing her refer to them as a couple, he had the impression that she did so deliberately, "we will meet you in the ball."

They bowed and curtsied to each other and through the corner of his eyes he could see the prince looking at him funnily.

Simon couldn't help saying,"i know what you were doing there."

Lady Danbury raised her eyebrows ,"what was I doing there?"

Simon took a deep breath in, "let's not play pretense."

"Oh boy, for how long would you talk in circles? It has never helped you, spill it out."

Simon scoffed,"I have never talked in circles."

Lady Danbury waited a moment before saying, "you're right, you have never talked in circles, in truth, you have never spoken out at all. Never disclosed your frustrations to anyone and never trusted a person."

" Ofcourse I did. I trust Will, you and Da-"

But he stopped at her name.

Lady Danbury smirked, "you see, you trust Will and throw punches at that damn bag to ease your frustrations. You have never disclosed these frustrations to me nor Daphne. You could if you want to , but you'd rather sit with regret all your life."

Simon looked at her sharply, "she is the prince's"

"Because you let her go."

"I can't give her what she wants."

"And did you discuss it through with her? Or were you a pompous arrogant man who decides the destiny of a woman by himself?"

He was guilty now, because that is what he had done. Lady Danbury had managed to make him sit in her parlour, her cane tapping on his knees, and he winced slightly.

"It's not paining you, is it? Because if it is, then I ought to poke my cane in you chest and that would still not equate to what that girl has been feeling."

"How do you know she wants to be with me? He asked irritatedly.

She looked at hin warily,"boy, are you blind? Anyone who looks at her can tell she is in love with you. And anyone who looks at you can tell you are in love with her. I'd say , you should stop playing pretense, simon."

He inhaled sharply, "It is complicated" he said finally.

"I have a son who stuck his head in a cage, I'm quite complex."

He nodded, "I vowed on my father's deathbed to never marry or sire a child, to spite him. All he cared was the dukedom, so why not ruin it for him?"

"And you think it would make you happy?"

"N-not happy, but it would ruin his wishes."

Lady Danbury laughed sharply at that, "I have to say, Simon. It was very clever and the purpose of your vow was served, he died miserably. But it would not hurt him or make him happy whatever you do after he is dead. He can know nothing. Tell me, would you really despise a loving wife and children, a loving duchy?"

Simon gulped, it was what he had been thinking but a few minutes prior, "No, I would not."

"Then what's stopping you?"

He didn't know. It was still fairly a new idea afterall, to think about wife , children, the duchy. He felt Lady Danbury's hand on his knees, "It is your right to be angry, and you should be angry. But don't let that make you miserable. It would only mean that he is so powerful that he makes you miserable from his grave. Be everything he was not, a loving duke, a loving father, a loving husband. My children might be a bit daft but thankfully they are good at heart unlike your father. Don't let him turn you into something you are not."

Simon took in her words, and immediately felt like a child who had a made a hasty decision that was about to ruin his plaything. He wondered why had he not shared this before with her, life would have been less miserable. And truly right now he was sure he could mend all the broken pieces of his life.

He jumped and to lady Danbury he said, "I must go and you can be assured that there might be some engagement news I'm tonight's ball."

"Yours and Daphne's I hope, not the prince and...." She trailed.

He growled, "No, mine and Daphne's." And with that he fled.

He mounted on his horse and went as fast as he could to reach Bridgerton house, narrowly missing Hyacinth and Gregory's pranks on Colin. He rushed towards the Bridgerton sitting room and interrupted them hastily, Daphne on the piano seat, the prince watching her adoringly. This would be the last time he saw her that way,he would make sure of it. At his sudden arrival everyone-Lady Bridgerton's, Benedict's, Daphne's and the Prince's eyes flew to him.

"Your grace, this is a surprise-" Lady Bridgerton began but he interrupted her.

"I do not want to be rude, Lady Bridgerton but can I have a private audience with Daphne."

The prince's eyes widened at his use of her maiden name but he just smirked and looked at Daphne, who looked as if she couldn't wait for the ground to swallow her.

"All alone?" Lady Bridgerton questioned, but she had a happy tone in that.

"I can assure you I would not play with her virtue." He said, except they had already enjoyed each other's virtue yesterday night. Almost.

Everyone left and Daphne stood up from he piano seat, her eyebrows raised.

"What do you want, your grace?" She asked tersely.

He winced at how she addressed him, but now that he was here he did not know how to begin. He gulped and said, "I want to rectify my grave mistakes."

"What mistakes?"she asked, with same raised eyebrows.

He coughed, he didn't know how to make his stupidity sound less stupid, yet very aware that it wasn't THAT stupid. "I pushed you and assumed that the prince would be better for you. Maybe he is, but I shouldn't have pushed you away without telling you why. It might sound silly to you, but I vowed to never marry or sire a child to my father."

"Why?"

"Again, it might sound childish, but I didn't want him to die with satisfaction. I wanted him to be miserable like he made me when I was a child. He tortured and taunted me, ignored me because I stammered. He pushed my mother through a pregnancy because he wanted a heir, and when he had one he pushed me away. Like I did you. And I do not want to be like him. I want everything he did not have, everything he could not be. And it still worries me , what if I have a child and he stammered like me? Would I be able to guide him? Would I be a terrible father? These are unaswered and I want to try , Daph..."

Daphne rubbed the tears off her under eyes and went towards him, "I am sorry for what happened to you but pushing me away won't help you."

"I realise that now."

"All you had to do was tell me."

He nodded, "I will from now on. I am truly sorry. I could have done so much better with my privilege. And now I know what to do."

"What?"she asked.

"Court you properly, make certain we are married by the end of the season if you will, and take care of my Duchy."

Daphne smiled at the description and leaned forward to kiss his cheek. "That sounds nice."

"Hmm-mm" he nodded,"Anthony probably wouldn't like it."

"Do you care?"

"Not one bit."

They were wrapped up in the embrace for quite some time before he asked, "what about the prince?"

Daphne smiled into his chest, "we already broke off our relationship or whatever it was."

He raised his brows and looked down at her, "when? He was just-"

"On our way from the ice-cream shop I told him of my feelings for you, it is so weird that he was the first person to know of my feelings for you. But I did and he did not mind it one bit."

"He didn't?"

She shook her head, "He gathered that we might have had feelings towards each other and it would be unfair to lure him into a loveless marriage."

He rubbed her arms and nodded, "what was he doing here then?"

"A last goodbye and tea with us. It is his last day in London before he leaves for Prussia." She waited a second before she continued, "you are not leaving London are you?"

He smiled, "Not without you, no."

And he indeed left London with her on their marriage day for honeymoon a month later.

#bridgerton #daphne bridgerton #daphne x simon #simon basset

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naitiaclo960writings · 4 years

Text

Day 8 - Heartless

(Warnings: Past major character’s death and quick mention of disease / grief. It’s an happy ending tho)

September

When Castiel fell asleep in the operating room on the morning of September 14, he was prepared to never wake up again. He had never been a religiously committed man unlike his parents, and yet he knew that he had prayed before closing his eyes.

It has been more than 3 months since he entered the list of organ recipients to replace his heart tired by illness. Unfortunately, he had inherited a heart malformation from birth and had survived to the age of 28 without being too disabled, but the congenital heart disease had caught up with him midyear. After a whole series of tests and a permanent hospitalization, the doctors had been very clear: either he had a heart transplant or he had only a few months left to live.

The hardest part was seeing his friends and family coming to see him every day with a darker face as nothing moved on the side of the organ center. Castiel was aware that he was not a priority among the thousands of people in need of a heart in the United States, but he tried to remain optimistic for the people he loved. His fight was rewarded a few days ago when he was told he had found a match donor.

For medical reasons, Castiel and his family weren’t allowed to know who the donor was. It was obviously not the priority in the eyes of all, but Castiel had insisted on knowing more and he had simply been informed that a heart had become available following a fatal road accident in the nearby city. There was something macabre about celebrating someone’s death, but that person had been generous enough to help other souls struggling to live and he could only salute that gesture.

"Take a deep breath." The nurse intimated, securing a mask on his face.

Thus the day of the fateful operation had arrived and Castiel was terrified. There were so many things to consider, so many factors that could tip the scales one way or the other. After one last thought to his family and, surprisingly, to his donor’s family, Castiel did as he was asked.

* * *

October

The operation was a success. He opened his eyes after said surgery. There was nothing more to say except that Castiel was grateful every day for the new beating heart in his chest. It was with this heart that he could now embrace his loved ones, laugh with his friends and discover a world he thought destined to disappear beyond the doors of this hospital.

Castiel was still in hospital and in the recovery phase, but he was doing well and could be out very soon according to his doctors. He had seen the scar on his chest last week and he couldn’t help but cherish it. This mark was the sign that he had survived. The sign that he had the right to live longer and to continue to build his life away from the health problems that had accompanied him all his life.

He was currently distracted by the television channels in his room — the afternoon programs were truly deplorable — when the nurse came in to serve him his meal.

"Hi Clarence. How’s my hottest patient today?" She exclaimed.

Castiel turned his head towards her with a small awkward smile as usual. He stood up gently in bed.

"Hello Meg." He said politely. "I’m fine, my scar doesn’t even itch anymore."

Meg was definitely his favorite nurse and it seemed to be mutual. She had told him one day that she always arranged to be assigned to his room, for she liked their conversations, and Castiel could only agree with her. Despite her bad girl tease, Meg was now a good friend, always listening and present to support him in addition to being a good caregiver. Her honesty had helped Castiel to carry on in his fight against the disease and during his remission. They sometimes spent long minutes discussing their respective lives before Meg’s pager rang and she was called away. In addition, she sometimes smuggled him chocolate bars to make up for the hospital food and Castiel calling it "a survival aid".

"I hope so!" Meg said, setting up his lunch tray with a small smile." But at least it has the merit of giving you a little adventurous side. Did I ever tell you I have a thing for guys with chest scars?"

Castiel laughed softly, playing the game they both took pleasure in maintaining. Despite everything, it didn’t go any further than that: a game to brighten their days. Both knew how to settle for their already atypical friendship.

"At least twice a day." Castiel joked while leaning in his pillows. "Did anyone leave a message for me today?"

Meg could not help sighing and Castiel pinched his lips with sympathy.

They both knew what that meant. Castiel had insisted on registering on a site that put organ donor families and recipients in contact. However, the process was complex and if the family of his donor did not post any message on this site, then Castiel would have no chance to get in touch with them. Yet he was almost obsessed with this situation. He had this need, no, this irrepressible urge to thank the family of the one who had saved his life. It was something so important and, although he respected the choice of some to remain anonymous, he felt that he would not be able to leave this all behind until he had put a definitive end to this chapter of his life.

"No, Clarence, squat" Meg shook her head. "And even if they did, you know very well that you will not be able to contact them. The site does not allow any personal information or too intimate exchanges between families."

"I know." Castiel replied, abashed while planting his fork in the mashed peas. "But perhaps they will make an exception? I just want to know them and thank them for the gesture of their loved one".

Meg clicked her tongue while pushing the wagon towards the door.

"I know you want to do the right thing, you’re a damn angel with a halo over your head." She gave him a small grin of disgust that made Castiel smile. "But what if they didn’t want to meet you? They are probably—"

"Living a difficult situation and I would only remind them of their loss, yes, I know." Castiel mumbled without being able to help it. "But… Maybe that they also would like to know that the death of their loved one helped other people cope. It’s possible Meg. And maybe they just don’t know how to contact me or-"

Meg shook her head again with a little compassionate pout.

"Even if they knew, handsome, they couldn’t. It’s against the law. Medical confidentiality and all that crap." She sighed before she came to sit on the chair beside him and put her feet on his bed.

Castiel let out a groan of frustration.

"Yes… But there are necessarily registers somewhere, a way to find a contact." Suddenly, something seemed to light up in his eyes and he turned his hopeful face towards Meg.

"Oh no, don’t give me that look." She groaned, knowing that it was not good news.

Castiel ignored her.

"Could you have access to organ donor records? You told me the heart came from the next town."

"And just by doing that, I’ve already told you too much." Meg said, raising an insolent eyebrow.

"You must be able to find an address, right? There must be even a name or maybe a phone number. I mean, if it’s a medical secret then the information has to be somewhere. If I could just put my finger on a semblance of something, it would be…" He moistened his lips, thinking. " It would be incredible."

Meg grumbled again, throwing her head back with exaggeration.

"Let’s say I have access to this information, and I mean maybe. Just giving it to you could cost me my job, Clarence. Why is it so important for you to find the name of a dead guy?" She snapped.

At these words Castiel’s face slumped slightly. He remained silent for a moment, seeking the right answer to this question. Meanwhile, he felt his heart squeeze in his chest and the blood it sent to his brain was enough to formulate his next words.

"Because it is unfair that I survived among so many others." He said." My donor had relatives, maybe siblings, a dog, friends and all lost something too valuable to be replaced in this car accident. Yet that’s how organ donation works. Someone dies and allows others to live. But I know that, if I had died on that operating table, my parents would have liked to know through whom I would have continued to live. I feel responsible Meg."

Castiel took a shaky breath before gently biting his lip while his friend welcomed his words with contemplative silence. Television continued to gossip in the background, but Castiel no longer heard it, lost in his thoughts.

"And yet, you are not." Meg said gently, leaving aside her usual sarcasm this time.

Castiel nodded slowly.

"I know." He sighed again before returning to his plate. "I’m sorry, you’re right. I can’t ask you anything like that anyway, it was selfish of me."

Following this, only the noise of the cutlery against the ceramics as well as the television journalist was heard in the hospital room. Meg didn’t move, didn’t open her mouth either, while each of them thought about their commitments in this story.

Finally, after several minutes of silence, the nurse sighed dramatically.

"What the hell wouldn’t I do for those beautiful blue eyes." She said under her breath. "Okay, I’ll see what I can do about the address." She says while rolling her eyes before standing up.

Castiel turned his head so quickly towards her that he was afraid to break his neck.

"What?" He asked, stunned.

"But I can’t guarantee you anything, Clarence." Meg told him while sighing. "You don’t access their organ donor files like that, but… I may have a couple of people I could contact. But it’s just between us."

She glared at him, and Castiel nodded, mouth open.

"I... of course."

Meg swore softly.

"One more thing." She said." I’ll try everything, but if I don’t find anything, you have to promise me you won’t try to get a name anymore. Do we have a deal?"

Castiel closed his mouth in a discreet snap before taking his friend’s last words into consideration. Finally, he nodded again.

"I promise you." He said seriously.

"Good." Meg sighed. "You’ll owe me one, angel."

A smile appeared again on Castiel’s face, more tender this time, his heart still playing up its own behind the scar of his chest.

"Thank you, Meg." He whispered.

"Shuddup." She grumbled with a wink before her pager rang in the room.

In no time, she waved at him and disappeared in the corridor, taking the empty wagon with her. Castiel went back to his bed with a light smile on his face. Yes, Meg was a good friend.

* * *

November

Meg’s research had still not yielded anything even a month after Castiel left the hospital. Although he was now alone again in his large apartment, there was something exhilarating about being able to live normally as if he had not nearly died a few months ago. Finding a job at the florist in his town had been the first step in his new life as he slowly resumed a normal social life with his friends and family.

His own search had also given nothing and the inbox of the website that could put him in contact with his donor’s family remained hopelessly empty. Nevertheless, Castiel did not get the idea out of his head. He often dreamed of meeting these strangers, of the words he would say to them if they had the chance to do so.

It was during a cold November evening, while he was bundled up in a plaid on his couch in front of a TV show, that Castiel’s cellphone rang. It was not something particularly unusual, but the late hour of the evening immediately gave this call something special. When he reached out to his phone, he could see Meg’s name on the screen.

"Hello?" He said, picking up, his heartbeat accelerating.

"Hi Clarence." Meg, a net of excitement in the voice, hastily replied. "Tell me you’re sitting, handsome, I’d hate to hear you fall on your ass because of what I’m about to tell you."

At this, Castiel straightened up in the sofa, his heart going up his throat.

"I’m sitting." He simply said, his fingers tightening around his phone.

"Okay, because I have something for you!" Meg hummed. "The info cost me at least three boxes of chocolate and the promise of a date to the shady guy in the operating room. You know, the one who keeps wearing Britney Spears t-shirts under his blouses? He’d be doing karaoke parties with the girl from the fourth floor that I wouldn’t even be surprised at-

"Meg." Castiel impatiently cut her off.

"Yes, yes. All this to say that he knows who approved your transplant application. So…" She said with pride, leaving a second of silence to settle her effect. I know where your little heart comes from and how to reach out to the family!"

At once, Castiel felt the air blocked in his throat. These words, he had waited for them for months while everything gradually turned into a crazy and inaccessible hope. Suddenly, through a simple phone call, Meg had just remade his world.

"Are you certain?" He finally asked, with a short breath.

"Oh, Clarence, please! Don’t you trust your favorite nurse anymore?" Meg laughed immediately.

Castiel shook his head, a bit stunned. Meg resumed.

"I sent you everything by e-mail, you must have received it." She said with malice. "But remember: keep it under your hat pretty boy. You don’t know me."

"Yes, I... of course." Castiel stuttered, rising to rush towards his computer.

"Hey." Meg called him through the phone, her voice softer. "I know it’s important to you, but… take the time to assimilate the information, okay? You don’t have to contact them tonight."

Castiel knew she was right, but the excitement was in his chest. However, he took the time to thank Meg warmly and invite her to dinner next week before hanging up. A few minutes later he had his eyes fixed on a brand new e-mail in his inbox. Castiel took a great inspiration. He had waited so long for this moment that, now that he was faced with a fait accompli, he was almost afraid to go for it.

Finally, he found the courage to click on the screen. His eyes quickly passed over her friend’s introductory text before fixating on a name written in bold as well as a lot of personal information listed just below. Reading these few lines, Castiel felt his heart racing again.

Samuel William Winchester

Born: March 2, 1983, in Lawrence, Kansas

Died: September 13, 2006, in Des Moines, Iowa

Cause: Head injury, road accident

Blood type: O negative

Applicant for organ donation: Yes

Organ removed: Heart

The data sheet thus continued in a professional coldness that affected Castiel slightly as he felt his throat tightening. His donor was only 23 when he died. He read every piece of information carefully before he got to the part he was most interested in.

Contact person in case of problem: Dean Winchester

Donor affiliation: older brother

Castiel felt his hands become sweaty as his gaze slid over the address and telephone number of Dean Winchester. A heavy silence filled his apartment, Castiel still unable to detach his gaze from this decisive email.

That’s it. The family of his donor was only a phone call away and he could finally thank the entourage of his savior. However, with this crucial information came a bitter feeling that Castiel had not apprehended. He remained all night pacing in his living room, his eyes regularly returning to the phone number taunting him from the screen of his computer.

* * *

December

Three months. Three long months since his little brother had disappeared in a car accident, leaving him and their parents in the grip of nameless sadness. He could barely breathe most of the time thinking of that youthful face he would never see again.

Dean passed a tired hand over his face as he walked past the windows of an umpteenth shop decorated with trees and garlands. Celebrating Christmas seemed absurd, totally meaningless in such a context. What’s the point if he can’t see Sammy’s jaded face in front of his usual porn magazine that he buys especially for him every year, for the joke? His world has been tasteless for far too long now.

Mary managed to keep her head above water half the time, calling him every day to hear from him, to which Dean responded with as many reassuring words as he could. Everyone knew that most of them sounded empty, but they could only pretend to be okay these past few months. Dean was wondering if the pain would eventually go away. He was told yes. He doubted that. John, on the other hand, drank a little more every day and Dean felt guilty about leaving his mother with him all day, regardless of Mary’s reassuring words.

The ground seemed to collapse under his feet as Dean looked for a way out. The truth is, he didn’t know how to do it without breaking everything around him. His days passed one after the other in a sickly similarity: work, eat, reassure, start again. He no longer had his stupid little brother to listen to his stories, no one to share his Friday night evenings with and who would be there to support him in any situation. He had his friends left, but, honestly, no one could understand him like Sam did for 23 years.

An umpteenth sigh passed through the barrier of his lips when a rock-like music rose out of his pocket. Already worried that it was still his mother, Dean took out his cell phone. Unknown number. He raised an eyebrow and picked up.

"Hello?" He said in a hoarse voice.

The line remained silent and Dean frowned. He could hear a breath at the other end of the line, so he tried again.

"Hello?"

"Oh, uh, yes! Hello, sir, uh, Dean?" An uncertain voice immediately answered with a short breath and tangled words.

Dean raised an eyebrow. Had he given his phone number to anyone recently? Not to his knowledge in any case, he very rarely went outside the garage in which he worked. Curious, Dean turned into a quiet street to concentrate on his interlocutor.

"Who am I speaking with?" He asked with a hint of sarcasm.

The man on the other side of the phone seemed to take a breath before resuming in an equally nervous tone.

"I’m sorry, we don’t really know each other. I am aware that my call may be unwelcome, in fact I hesitated for a long time before contacting you." The man stuttered.

Dean sighed.

"Well, listen, if it’s to sell me something then I’m not interested, thank you."

"No!" The man quickly added. "No, I don’t want to sell you anything. I…" Another inspiration."My name is Castiel Novak. I live in Waterloo. I know this is going to sound weird, but… I received your brother Samuel’s heart."

Dean remained silent for a long time, trying to assimilate each of the words he had just heard. At the sound of Sam’s name, he thought he was dying a bit more. A kind of thud rose in his ears, so that he thought he had fallen into a pool while he was not paying attention to his steps. Besides, Dean wasn’t even sure where he was, now standing still in the middle of the street. Only a deep and sizzling voice gradually emerged from his torpor.

"I am sorry." Castiel went on after a long silence. "I’ve taken the liberty of contacting you, but I can assure you that I don’t want to cause you any more trouble than that." He seemed to be searching for his words for a moment." I know I could never thank Samuel for his gesture, but... your brother saved my life. I just wanted to let you know how grateful I was, even though I couldn’t replace what you lost. If there’s anything I can do to help, it would be my pleasure. However, I also understand that you would never want to hear from me again... But I can assure you that I will take care of his heart. Samuel really did a lot of good in my life and with my loved ones."

Castiel started to mutter, as if he was suddenly deeply embarrassed by this phone call. Dean was convinced that he had to send back the image of a man ravaged by grief right now, his arms swaying and his gaze lost.

"Sam." He finally replied in a trembling voice. Dean took the time to clear his throat before continuing. "He preferred to be called Sam."

"Okay." Castiel said after another moment of hesitation. "Well… Sam really is a hero to me, Dean, I wanted you to know that."

Dean nodded stupidly, no matter how Castiel couldn’t see him. He felt that the sky had just fallen on his head, he felt completely disoriented. Of course Sammy was a hero, the rest of humanity didn’t even know how lucky they were to be around him. Dean knew that Sam had donated his organs, he had even given everything he could, because he was like that. But knowing that the heart was beating in someone else’s body, giving them a chance to continue to live and breathe… It was something he hadn’t really thought about until then.

"I’m going to leave you, I’m sorry I interfered in your life like this." Castiel apologized again. "I will not call this number again, I promise. I hope everything will be all right for your family, sincerely."

Dean’s heart skipped a beat and his muscles began to move, pushing him to almost scream on the phone.

"No, wait!" Realizing that Castiel had still not hung up, Dean quieted down, a shiver in his voice. "I don’t even know how you found this number, but… Well, it doesn’t matter. You’re from Waterloo? Iowa?

"Yes." Castiel said. "I’m about a two-hour drive from Des Moines. I don’t know if you live nearby, but-

"Des Moines, yeah." Dean replied, stunned. How did this guy know so much about Sam, he thought that the organ donation was anonymous? "Would you be available to meet in the week?"

An umpteenth silence answered his question and, frankly, Dean himself did not know why he had asked it. Maybe he was holding on to a ghost, a hopeless, senseless hope of finding something that once belonged to Sam. But what else did he have to lose now?

"… Are you going to punch me in the face if I say yes?" Castiel asked with distrust.

Surprisingly, it snatched a small laugh from Dean who barely recognized the sound of his voice. He hadn’t laughed that easily in weeks now.

"No." He answered. "I just want to talk, if that’s okay?"

He didn’t know what to think of this situation, it was too surreal. Was he angry with this man? No, not really. Sad? Maybe, but nothing new. Curious? Certainly. There were so many questions that now turned in his mind, almost stunning him. Never before had he heard a similar story and, yes, he was driven to the unknown by the despair of that mourn which he had never ended. But to hell with it, he needed to feel Sam’s heart beating against his hand again.

"Okay, I’d love to, then. What’s your schedule?"

Dean felt a piece of his soul warming up.

* * *

January

Their first encounter had definitely been strange and completely atypical. They had arranged to meet in a café halfway between their two cities, and despite a tense start, Dean and Castiel had talking much of the afternoon. Dean had been biting his tongue all along so he wouldn’t ask the fateful question of "excuse me, can we stop talking so I can put my hand against your heart?". But Castiel had finally come to the point by asking him if he could tell him about Sam and things had been done naturally. It was as if someone had opened the floodgates and quickly, Dean was unable to stop the incessant flow of words about his little brother. He told him the most important thing, from his childhood memories to that weird tic that Sam had every time he was upset.

Castiel had then smiled softly at each of his anecdotes and, when Dean had finally been allowed to feel this pulsating heart against his hand, Castiel had not moved. Dean was almost certain that he had let slip a strangled exclamation, but Castiel had just contented himself with that sweet and understanding look. At the end of their appointment, they had agreed to meet again. They both needed it.

The month of February began on another encounter at the park this time, at Des Moines. The winter was still rough and persistent this year, so they had decided to go and enjoy a hot chocolate near the pond. Dean hadn’t told his parents about it, not yet, but this meeting with Castiel did him as much good as the first. When he returned home, he found himself feeling much lighter than before.

They did not wait until the following month to meet again, and their third meeting took place in Waterloo this time. Castiel had invited him to dinner at a restaurant he called "the best in town" and Dean could not possibly say no to the prospect of a good meal.

March hosted their first meeting in a private place. Dean had taken care to clean up the mess from top to bottom before Castiel rang his doorbell and, seeing the huge bouquet of flowers that his friend had brought him, an easy smile spread over his face. Easy. It was the right word to define Castiel. Everything was easy with him, obvious and sweet. He never judged him, no matter what topic of conversation he decided to share with him. Castiel listened and supported and Dean had not felt so free and understood since at least 6 months now. One evening, he even wildly wondered if Sam’s heart had not completely taken possession of Castiel to make him this radiant and exceptional person. Until then, Dean had never known anyone but his brother who could read him like an open book.

In April and several appointments later, however, Dean understood that it was not really a fraternal connection he shared with Castiel. He learned to dwell more on the looks and gestures exchanged. Everything was crazy, insane, but once again, everything had always been crazy between them, and this from the first day.

May marked the beginning of a mental breakdown for Dean. He was definitely falling in love with his now best friend and that terrified him. What if he was wrong? What if the fear of losing sight of the only thing that still connected him to his deceased brother led him to feel faked feelings for Castiel? He had no right to be wrong here, he could not make his friend suffer, for he was too stubborn and miserable to properly analyze his own feelings. His cowardice pushed him away from Castiel — "to avoid making him suffer," he said — and the deep despair that this created in each of them was almost as hard as a second mourning. Almost.

Despite his best efforts not to hurt his best friend, June began with a considerable argument. Castiel felt rightfully unfairly rejected, and Dean could not bring himself to pronounce the words that burned his throat. However, neither of them expressed themselves more when Castiel, after a final overwhelming exclamation, brutally kissed Dean’s lips. The latter greeted him with a sob before deepening their kiss. No, Dean did not only love that beating heart in his chest… He had fallen in love with so much more.

July and August passed at an alarming speed as each of the two men discovered another facet of the other. Castiel had met Dean’s parents and Dean had not seen his mother so happy for a long time now. However, the one-year date of Sam’s accident was fast approaching and Dean could not ignore the weight it added to his shoulders. Little by little, Sam’s heart had become Castiel’s one in his eyes and his boyfriend was gradually filling the void that he felt deep inside him, but this dammed month of September was now taunting him every day on the calendar.

"Would you like to put your head against my chest?" Castiel once proposed as they both prepare to go to bed.

Dean froze, air jammed in his lungs.

"What?" He asked, stunned. He wasn’t sure if he heard correctly.

Castiel smiled softly, as always, before taking his hand in his.

"Just tonight." He replied, as if that explains everything.

And without really understanding how, Dean nodded and lay down with Castiel. Docilely, he had let his companion draw him to himself until his ear rested against the scar of his chest. Some breathing later, Dean was able to discern the beats under the mutilated skin and the world stopped spinning. He remained there for hours, his eyes open but lost in nostalgia and stifling emotion. He was alive and well, determined not to disappear. Not this time. When Dean began to cry silently, Castiel simply hugged him harder to comfort him, without a word. This was so precious to him. It quickly became their favorite position, Dean kissing the scar whenever he could.

September passed by in a bitter sweet atmosphere that neither Dean nor Castiel regretted sharing together. One evening in October, bundled up under the duvet to fight off a new winter, Dean could not take his eyes off the blue gaze smiling back. He thought of what his last months had been, what he had lost, but also what he had found. In front of him, Castiel squeezed the hand on his chest while breathing the same warm air as his partner. Their heart rate was calm and painless.

"I love you." Dean huffed at the bend of another tender smile.

At his words, Dean felt Castiel’s heart miss a beat under his palm and maybe, just maybe, was this the way his brother told him how happy he was for him.

* * * @winchester-reload

I hope you enjoyed it! I would really like to develop other moments like their first meeting or the evolution of their friendship until they become a couple. However, I had only one day to write and I had to make choices :). I am proud of this work but also rather doubtful of the final result so, if you liked it, please take the time to leave me a quick review in the comments. It would mean a lot to me. Thanks again for reading to the end, see you tomorrow!

You can find the whole series on Ao3

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fefipranon · 3 years

Text

Let’s talk about depression

In my latest book ‘The Power of Death’ I talk about this topic in depth. I will post the links to it at the end of this post if you are interested in reading it. If there is one part of the book that resumes the message that I wanted to transmit, it’s Mikasa’s (The main character) press conference at the end of the last chapter.

It’s okay if you don’t read the whole book, but at least, read the following extract from the book (some stuff removed to avoid spoilers):

Standing behind the podium Mikasa started the conference by saying,

"Paradis island doesn't have studies about the topic we are about to discuss, but other countries do. In the United States, in 2019, a total of 47,511 Americans died by suicide and an estimated 1.38 million attempted it. [2] What about other countries? you may ask, well, overall, suicide was in the top 10 leading causes of death across Eastern Europe, Central Europe, high-income countries within the Asia Pacific, and Australasia. Within regions and countries, though, suicide rates soared among people with lower social and economic status. [3] This data comes from research made by the Institute for Health Metrics and Evaluation in Washington, Seattle. [4] This goes without mentioning that for every suicide, it is estimated that there are seven to ten people intimately affected."[8]

Mikasa stopped to take a sip of water and looked back at the audience to continue her speech,

"Untreated depression can, and possibly will lead to suicide, death. In biology, homeostasis is the state of steady internal, physical, and chemical conditions maintained by living systems. [5] Depression does have an impact on this. Research shows that the hippocampus is smaller in some depressed people. For example, in one fMRI study published in The Journal of Neuroscience, investigators studied 24 women who had a history of depression. On average, the hippocampus was 9% to 13% smaller in depressed women compared with those who were not depressed. The more bouts of depression a woman had, the smaller the hippocampus. [6] The hippocampus is not the only area of the brain affected by depression, the Amygdala, and Thalamus are also affected.[6] Depression is, and should be treated as, an illness that, if left untreated, can be lethal. Just remember the statistics I gave you about suicide at the beginning of my speech. With that data as the base of my argument, it is safe for me to say that depression is one of the top life-threatening illnesses having, in some countries, the top mortality rate overall."

A woman from the public raised her hand and when allowed to talk she said,

"How can you call an illness to something that can be 'cured' by just talking to a so-called doctor about your issues?"

Mikasa gave the woman a serious look and said, "Therapy, is not just talking. Psychotherapy stands over years of research and development going as back as the 19th century. There is extensive evidence of its effectiveness. Also, most cases of depression treatments include medication."

Then a man shouted, "So now doctors will give our kids a bunch of pills just because the child is feeling a little sad?!"

"Several tests are usually performed before a psychiatrist gives a diagnosis of depression. Tests like: physical exams, lab tests, psychiatric evaluation, and the country's manual of mental health like for example the DSM-5 which is the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders from the American Psychiatric Association, is applied. After that, the psychiatrist might do more testing to see if medication is an option. Because they are physicians, psychiatrists can order or perform a full range of medical laboratory and psychological tests which, combined with discussions with patients, help provide a picture of a patient's physical and mental state. Their education and clinical training equip them to understand the complex relationship between emotional and other medical illnesses and the relationships with genetics and family history, to evaluate medical and psychological data, to make a diagnosis, and to work with patients to develop treatment plans.[7] In other words, for a doctor to prescribe medication to your child, it has to first do an extensive evaluation on the kid before even start to consider medication in the first place. If in the end, medication is needed, then it would mean that your kid is not only 'feeling a little sad', it means that there is a deeper problem that needs to be addressed and the physician will have a lot of evidence to back up his claim.", Mikasa said.

She stopped talking and pinched the bridge of her nose out of frustration, then she looked seriously at the same man she was addressing before, and said, "Would you rather lose your child to suicide or seek valid, scientific-based help to save the kid's life?"

The man was frozen in place. He was not expecting to be put in the spotlight this way. Mikasa noticed the teenage kid who was seated next to him with his head bowed to the floor. Before he could answer Mikasa said,

"Do you even know how depression feels like? To have your own mind to conspire against you? To illogically feel worthless, alone, like nobody can understand you, or at least, nobody that hasn't been through the same darkness as you. Do you know how it feels when people tell you worthless crap like, 'get over it', or 'just stop being sad' like being sad is just an option you chose because apparently, you like to torture yourself? Have you ever contemplated to end your life out of desperation to get an out, a break, from your own mind?"

By this point, the kid was looking straight at Mikasa with tears pouring down his eyes. Mikasa knew she was getting through him. She grabbed the microphone and started to walk while resuming her speech,

"To feel like you are constantly drowning. To feel like an ungrateful ass because logically, you should be happy because you have everything. But you aren't... Thinking that there must be something really wrong with you for you to feel this way without an apparent reason. To feel lost, alone with this feeling that is eating you inside slowly until it gets to the point where you desperately want to rip your soul out of your body. When it gets so bad that causing physical pain to your body is an option since, at least, for a brief moment, your mind focuses on the physical pain which is better for you because the emotional pain is so much greater than a little cut on your forearm."

The man realized that she was no longer addressing him but the person seated next to him, his own son. Mikasa stood right in front of his son and looked at him in the eyes. She lowered the microphone and while brushing her fingers through the kid's scars on his forearm she said to him,

"You are not alone."

Then, she showed him her own scars and the kid stood up pulling her in for a hug while repeatedly saying, "Thank you"

Reporters were recording the whole encounter. It was real. Depression was real, and it was being recorded. The father of the kid sat back down while looking at his son in shock. Trying to find the words to say he just pulled him in for a hug while saying,

"I'm sorry. I didn't know."

"You never really asked.", the boy replied.

"I'm sorry. I will do better. You deserve better.", his dad replied with a broken voice.

Mikasa lifted the microphone again to talk and said, "Depression is a silent killer. It could be your child, partner, parent... it could be closer to you than what you think. So before you speak about the topic remember that. Your words could be hurting one of your own for your lack of empathy."

She walked towards the podium again to start answering reporter's questions,

"What would you say to someone who is going through this?"

Mikasa lowered her head lost in thought and said, "You don't need to have a traumatic event in your life to have depression. Depression is not just sadness and is not only caused by personality type or environmental factors. Genetics and biochemistry are also a big part of it, and those two have nothing to do with how much crap you've been dealt in life. What I am trying to say it's that, it's okay to not be okay, you don't need a reason to, and you don't need to feel worse about it for not having a reason. Being sad is not a right you earn after a certain amount of societally accepted shit has happened to you. Just seek help, see the situation logically, and not let people bring you down. If possible, educate others on the topic. Be the change you want to see in the world."

She paused, thinking of her own struggles with depression, and the stability and peace she finally felt once the pills started to work on her. Sure, dark thoughts still lingered at the back of her head, but, it was no longer unbearable, now, it was manageable. With time and therapy, she had managed to live with it, minimizing their negative effect on her. With this in mind, she said,

"Do not get frustrated if anti-depressants don't work at first, sometimes it takes a couple of tries with different types of medications to get the one that works for you. Researchers are exploring possible links between the sluggish production of new neurons in the hippocampus and low moods. An interesting fact about antidepressants supports this theory. These medications immediately boost the concentration of chemical messengers in the brain (neurotransmitters). Yet people typically don't begin to feel better for several weeks or longer. Experts have long wondered why, if depression were primarily the result of low levels of neurotransmitters, people don't feel better as soon as levels of neurotransmitters increase. The answer may be that mood only improves as nerves grow and form new connections, a process that takes weeks." [6]

She paused and looked at the crowd. Then, she said,

"In the meantime, stay alive, even if it feels against your will. Do not give a permanent solution to a temporary problem, because trust me, it DOES get better."

Stay Alive

Feel free to share this to raise awareness. This book has all the things I wish someone had told me in my darkest moments, and I hope, it can help someone out there who is going through the same painful path in life. Remember, it's not your fault, you are not alone.

Resources used in this part:

[1] Oswego City School District Regents Exam Prep Center. Archived from on 25 October 2012. Retrieved 12 November 2012. URL: homeostasis

[2] American Foundation for Suicide Prevention: suicide-statistics

[3] global-suicide-rates-study

[4] Global, regional, and national burden of suicide mortality 1990 to 2016: a systematic analysis for the Global Burden of Disease Study 2016: content

[5] Gordon., Betts, J. Anatomy and physiology. DeSaix, Peter., Johnson, Eddie., Johnson, Jody E., Korol, Oksana., Kruse, Dean H., Poe, Brandon. Houston, Texas. p. 9. ISBN 9781947172043. OCLC 1001472383.

[6] What causes depression? Harvard Medical School: what-causes-depression

[7] What Is Psychiatry? from the American Psychiatric Association. URL: what-is-psychiatry

[8] Lukas, Christopher; Henry M. Seiden (1997) [1987]. Silent Grief: Living in the Wake of Suicide. Northvale, New Jersey: Jaron Aronson. p. 5. ISBN 0-7657-0056-5.

Book Summary:

Mikasa is a woman suffering from clinical depression. There is one thing that she is sure of: she wants to die. But when she received some unexpected news that makes her death wish a reality, she starts to wonder if that was really what she wanted. She starts a journey to discover the truth about her biological parents that gave her up for adoption when she was a baby. This journey will guide her to cross paths with someone as broken as her, someone that hates her to death for what her biological family did to him. Will she have the courage to, for once, fight to live? or will she let him drag her to hell with him?

The book is tagged as an ‘Attack on Titan’ Alternate universe fanfic but honestly you don’t need to know anything about the anime to read it. The story has nothing to do with it so feel free to read if you haven’t seen it.

You can find the story in the following links:

Archive of our own:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/30452145/chapters/75087657

Wattpad:

https://www.wattpad.com/story/264598251-the-power-of-death

#depression #Suicide #suicide awareness #hope #sad #sad thoughts #mind #psychotherapy #psychology #science

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nothing-but-dreamy · 3 years

Text

BROKEN

Pairing: NYX ULRIC x GENDER NEUTRAL!READER

Words: 3.401

Warnings: angst; fluff; mention of sex; raw emotions; kinda dark (?)

A/N: This is the sequel to ‘Reckless’. But ‘Reckless’ got written with a female reader. Because I’m trying to change my writing style to suit more readers, I changed the female reader of ‘Broken’ to a neutral reader. So, basically, ‘Reckless’ was about a Glaive who worked kinda thoughtless during missions. They jumped into every dangerous situation they could find. Nyx wasn’t too fond of their behavior and so, he seeked a conversation with them. Because both held unspoken feelings for each other, the conversation turned into something intimate and heated.

‘Broken’ is the darker sequel to give a bit more background to the reader. But I wrote it so that you can read it as a standalone.

Three weeks had passed since you and Nyx had your little heated 'discussion' in the Glaives' headquarters. As promised, the same day, Nyx had kept his word and visited you to show his arguments again and again why you should be less reckless. This night was the beginning of something great...and undeniably intense. None of you couldn’t keep your hands off each other. Almost nowhere. Even if you tried to keep it secret in front of the others, you found ways to have fun with Nyx wherever you wanted.

Nyx was drawn to your wildness as if danger was your second nature. Quickly, you noticed Nyx’ animalistic side while you were drawn to the way Nyx saw you. He gave you the feeling to be wanted. He gave you closeness where you usually just got rejected.

But like always when it became good, your past was haunting you no matter how far you would run. You had run to the farthest point you could find on the map - to Insomnia - and yet, Ryan had found you.

You hoped to get distracted as you joined the Glaives. On the battlefield, the war sounds and the screams of your dying enemies would be louder than the other voices in your head. Ryan would get silenced.

Nyx was right, you were reckless. Thoughtlessly, you ran into every new fight no matter what size the enemy had because the language of your blades were the only one you could speak fluently. Violence was what you knew the best because then, Ryan disappeared.

When you were with Nyx, the voices also became silent. When you were enjoying the man's satisfying presence, everything in your head died down to the point that Nyx was everything you could think of.

But as something else started to grow inside of you, a little, small thing called 'love', Ryan was back with full force to remind you what you were and what you had done.

"You bring death to everyone around you! You bring bad luck to everyone you love! You're the reason why everyone dies! I wish you would be dead instead of them! I hope you will never be happy!"

"No, I'm not like that! No! No! No! Stop it! Stop it! Stop it!", you cried out, pressing your fists against your head to fight against the pain behind your temples.

For the twentieth time, Nyx checked the time on his watch and frowned. Slowly, he paced up and down at the meeting spot, becoming more and more impatient the longer he had to wait. It was unusual. For three weeks, he was dating you and every single moment had been amazing. With you, everything was so intense, passionate and lust-filled.

Then, Nyx had tried his luck and had asked you out to have a real date with dinner, maybe a movie. He wanted to show you that he saw more in you than just a sexual partner. In his eyes, you were more than just a fling. You could be more. More like a couple. You had been cautious with your answer and now, as you didn't show up, Nyx thought that he might have been too eager. That it was maybe too early for you. Maybe you felt caged by him…

Five minutes later, Nyx decided he had waited long enough and so, he walked to your place. He wanted to know what your problem was. Why were you acting this frustrating because Nyx really thought you two had worked past it. You had grown a bond. So, why were you trying to destroy it again? Nyx already searched for the problem by himself.

Nyx walked his way up the stairs to your apartment, already kinda angry but stopped as he heard something: "Go away! Why can't you just leave me alone! I'm not what you say! It's not my fault!"

Nyx’ hand froze in front of the door as he was just about to knock. He heard the angry, frantically and muffled cries behind the door as if you were screaming at someone. Without knocking, Nyx opened the door to help you but as he stepped in, the picture in front of him let his blood run cold. There was no one else in the small room except you.

Your place was more spare than Nyx' own if that was even possible. You had a bed and an old, worn wing chair. In one corner hung a used punching bag which was still swinging, obviously you had trained until the moment you had broken down in front of it.

Nyx' eyes were glued at your frame. You were just dressed in shorts and a trainingstop. Your hands were bandaged for the punching bag. You were covered in sweat while you had been slumped down on your knees, holding your head violently between your fists which were pressing against your temples. Your eyes were squeezed shut and so, you hadn't noticed Nyx yet.

Softly, Nyx closed the door. On his way over to you, his eyes fell on a bunch of pictures. He had seen them before. They were like his own: family memories with smiling faces and proud parents and a brother. They were old and the color faded on the edges but he never asked you about them because he wanted to give you the time to do it on your own.

Nyx knelt next to you, not daring to touch you because in fear to scare you. He was even scared on his own to see you, this usual tough person in such a state. You never had been this vulnerable in front of him, or in front of someone else or … at all. Nyx leant forward, searching your closed eyes, "YN? Hey, it's me-"

By the sound of his voice, your head snapped up to meet his glance. Nyx saw your bloody eyes, your lashes were spikey and your face was frozen in an expression of pure agony. Like a blank nerv, pain, hate and loathing were displayed on your features that Nyx became speechless.

"Leave me alone, Nyx!", you hissed.

He had seen you angry before but nothing was compared to what he saw now in your eyes, "No.", Nyx said calmingly, closing up on you slowly, "I won't leave you alone like this.", he said softly. Just to see you in such a state broke his heart.

"I said you shall go!", you cried out angrily, punching against his chest to gain more distance between yourself and his caring, blue eyes that made you angry. As he didn't move, you snatched out one of your blades from a hidden spot to threaten him.

Nyx moved quickly, grabbing the blade from your shaking hand and threw it aside before you broke down in his arms, crying violently against his chest.

Nyx sat down on the ground, leaning against your bed and letting you cry. He tickled your neck and stroked over your hair and back to calm you. Nyx had no idea what had happened and he didn't dare to ask. Whatever had triggered this, it had to be something extreme you barely showed someone, hiding everything like this somewhere deep down inside of you. Caging it to prevent yourself from breaking.

Five minutes later, you slowly calmed down. You felt exhausted and empty, physically and emotionally. You noticed Nyx' arms enclosing you softly but also determined to keep you close, to give you comfort. You felt guilty that he had seen you like this but you couldn't change it now where the damage was done.

You just could explain it, "Everyone of our village died that day as the imperials came.", you said low, your voice barely a whisper and hoarse from all the crying. First you thought Nyx hadn't heard you but his grip became stronger around you and so, you continued with the urge to explain yourself while snuggling closer to his chest, "That day, I lost everything. Everyone I knew died. Except me and my brother. We got rescued by some hunters. But, you know, I ... I should have died there with all the others! I should be dead instead of being alive!", you said desperately, feeling how new tears were crawling to the surface.

"No, YN. No. That's not true. Why do you think that?", he asked concerned, trying to keep his own emotions out of his voice.

"Yes, it is true! My brother was right! I always brought bad luck to everyone around me!", you argued angrily. You clenched your fists, trying to hurt yourself with your nails digging into the palms of your hands to let yourself feel something else than grief.

Nyx was shocked. He couldn't believe what he heard, "Yo-your brother? He said all these things?", he asked in disbelief.

You looked up quickly but as you saw his eyes, you had to draw your glance away again, "Yes. My brother, Ryan. The hunters had helped us. Brought us somewhere safe but after we realized what had happened, Ryan said it was my fault that our parents died. He casted the blame on me and you know what? He's right. Our mother died because she saved me and as she got shot our dad tried the same. Both would be still alive if it weren't for me. So, before I will be the reason for more deaths, I ran away."

"H-how old were you as you ran away?", Nyx whispered. His blood was slowly fueled with anger against your brother who had said all these horrible things.

"I don’t know… I guess, I was thirteen, maybe twelve as I left the hunters. Since then, I've been alone. And I will always be alone. It's the only way for me.", you whispered, determined to stay by your habit.

Nyx leant back to look into your eyes, "You're not alone-", he tried.

"Yes, I am! And that's how it should be!", you hissed and felt bad for snapping at him.

"No. YN, look at me, please.", Nyx asked and as you raised your head, he smiled softly, stroking wet strands of your hair out of your face before he cupped it, "You're not alone. You have friends here. You... Y-you have me.", he said carefully with an insecure smile. For a split second, he saw that he got through to you. Your eyes became clear with hope before the self-loathing was back.

"No. I don't have you. You can't stay with me or otherwise you will be dead like everyone else.", you whispered before you looked away.

Nyx' heart broke all over again. The pain you felt was nothing new to him, it just seemed to be so much worse than what he felt usually. Carefully, he forced you to look at him again, "Listen, as a Glaive, nothing is certain. We both know that. Obviously, our lives aren't made for certainty. But I will stay by your side as long as I can. Trust me."

"I'm bad luck. Why would you want to have someone as broken as me, anyway?"

"Because you're the toughest person I have ever met. You have so many scars and you still keep fighting. You never back down. The fire you're carrying makes me speechless. Everyone around you comes first. I admire you so damn much for everything you stand for. Your handsomeness makes me speechless. You're so damn sexy and sensual that it is addictive.", Nyx said honestly.

"You just say that because the sex is great and you want more of that.", you whispered sadly.

"No! I mean, yeah... Of course, it is great! But I... YN, I tell you that because it's the truth. It's the truth that I see you like this. And ... it's also the truth that I'm falling for you.", Nyx whispered with a pounding heart.

"Y-yo-you do- what? No! You can't do that!", you called out, panic appearing in your eyes. You even tried to leave Nyx' side, to crawl away from him.

Nyx kept you in place and chuckled softly, "You can't forbid people to like you and you can't prohibit me to love you.", he said softly. It was a very long time since he had said these words. He wanted to comfort you, sure, but they weren’t just meaningless words out of niceness. Nyx really meant them.

And to his delight, he saw that you believed him. New tears were building in your eyes. You looked sadly at him but at the same time, your eyes filled themselves with fondness for him. A tear rolled down your cheek and Nyx caught it with his thumb, "Please, don't cry anymore.", Nyx whispered and pressed a soft kiss on your lips which tasted salty after all the tears shed.

As he leant back, you stopped him. You clawed your fingers into his shirt, pulling him back to you to kiss him softly. Just slowly, you increased the pressure of your lips, noticing that he waited for your next moves, for your pace before he adjusted to it. You felt vulnerable. You hated it that he had seen you like this. And yet, that he was there meant the world to you.

Someone was there for you. Someone who seemed to love you even when you were broken like this. You knew that Nyx also had lost so many things. He couldn't save his mother and sister and suddenly, you realized that your recklessness all the time had to be the worst for him. Nyx feared to lose you while he would be helpless to rescue you because you jumped right into danger.

Slowly, you leant backwards, landing on the cold floor with Nyx on top of you. You snaked your legs around his waist and your arms around his neck to keep him close.

Nyx felt that you needed physical contact and yet, it was something completely different than usually when he was with you. You had wanted him before but that was always demanding, aggressive and determined. Almost animalistic. And now, you were so soft, caring and slow with him.

Your kisses were delicious and filled with love that Nyx melted against you. You kissed him longingly that he forgot to breathe. Your hands roamed over his body in admiring moves, savoring him and his flaws because for you, they were non-existent.

You grabbed the rim of his plain shirt, pulling it slowly up and over his head just to touch his hot skin again in the next second. You stroked over his back. Admiring every single scar you could find softly with your fingertips. You traced along them, stroking along Nyx' spine to produce goosebumps on your way.

Nyx shuddered against your frame as he felt your caring touch moving upwards to his neck. You raked your slender fingers through his hair and combed it with them. Carefully, you played with the braids as if you never had touched them before. You stroked along the small beads and enjoyed the feeling of Nyx' extremely soft, feathery hair. Never before, you noticed their softness like in this moment.

Reluctantly, Nyx left your sweet lips but his lungs demanded oxygen. He created a small space to look into your eyes which were sparkling with admiration he had never seen before. You wanted to say something, Nyx saw it but instead, you just gnawed on your lower lip. Slowly, you stroked from his back, over his shoulders down his chest.

Under Nyx' intense glance, you moved your hands down Nyx' upper body. Along his scarred chest, down his abs and to his hips before you opened his pants. Slowly, you raised your eyes to meet his glance. Connected with his blue eyes, you started to roll your hips against him to increase the friction even more.

Nyx knew what you wanted. And there was no way he would deny your request to have him. Slowly, he crawled back, offered you his hand to stand up before he undressed his remaining clothes. You followed immediately and pushed Nyx down on your bed to crawl on top of him.

Fascinated, Nyx watched you taking your time with him. While you made your way up along his body, you kissed every inch you could find: his hips, his ribcage and his collarbones. Before you reached his lips, you bit softly into his neck which caused him to moan deeply with desire. Nyx stroked along your back and clawed into your shoulder blades as he felt your teeth digging into his skin.

With you in his arms, Nyx rolled you around, bringing you into a position to enter you teasingly slow. You moaned low with closed eyes by the pleasurable feeling caused by Nyx. You clawed your hands into your bedsheets, arching your back while Nyx captured your lips with his own for a passionate kiss. He always enjoyed every moment with you but now, this was intimate in a different way. None of you were driven by desire rather by the urgency to show your deepest emotions you held for each other.

***

As the sun rose, you sat in the wing chair to watch Nyx sleeping peacefully. He was tangled with your blanket, arms hugging one of your pillows. His braids and strands were tousled while his chest raised slowly up and down. One single tear slipped from your eyes and rolled down your cheek. You wiped it away violently. You knew what you had to do…

As Nyx awoke, he knew the bed was empty. There wasn't much space left and he didn't have you in his arms anymore how he had fallen asleep. He pushed the pillow aside. His quickened heartbeat let him awake completely as he realized what it could mean that you weren’t there.

Nyx sat up and that was the moment where he saw you sitting in your wing chair, staring at him. You were crying again but this time silently and this was far more worse and painful for Nyx to witness than the emotional outbreak the day before, "YN? Since when do you sit there?", he asked carefully, noticing that you were fully dressed with a bag to your feet.

As you heard his voice, you blinked and looked at him, "A few hours. I wanted to leave but I- I... I saw you sleeping and couldn't go...", you whispered.

Nyx hurried out of the bed, kneeling in front of you, "I'm happy you're still here.", he said softly, cupping your face with his hand, "That's what you do, right? Leaving when it gets too much?", he asked but you just nodded as an answer. Nyx searched your eyes, "How many times have you done that before?"

You looked away, shrugging your shoulders, "I don't know. After the tenth time, I stopped counting."

Nyx sighed. He had moments where he felt lost but you were it. He had Libertus, Crowe, Pelna...you had no one. And that for a far too long time.

You looked at him, "I couldn't leave you, Nyx. I should have, but I- I couldn't... I can't give you what you deserve. I can't make you happy...", you whispered.

"Trust me, I don't even think I would deserve happiness-"

"I'm serious. I- I couldn't love you. I mean I can't love you... I don't know how. I'm not able to do that.", you breathed sadly.

"You don't have to. Why can't we just be together? No naming. No label. Just we.", Nyx offered a different way.

With doubts, you looked at him, "You still want that?"

"Oh, yes. I won't give up on you so quickly. Not after I saw so much of you.", Nyx breathed meaningfully and stood up, holding out his hand as a reason for your decision to stay.

You looked at his hand. At this strong hand that had driven you crazy and that gave you comfort at the same time. Without thinking too much, you took it. You placed your hand in his and let him guide you back to the bed. You undressed a few clothes and cuddled next to Nyx' side, curling up into his arms.

With a content smile, he inhaled your scent and pressed a soft kiss on top of your crown. Both of you were broken but at this moment, neither of you were alone because you had found each other.

#nyx ulric x gender neutral reader #nyx #nyx ulric x male reader #nyx ulric x female reader #male reader #female reader #ff15 nyx ulric #final fantasy nyx ulric #kingsglaive nyx #nyx ulric x reader #nyx ulric

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nightswithkookmin · 3 years

Note

Imo there is enough to support the possibility of a romantic relationship, but you are writing full on narratives with impossible specificity. You know what confirmation bias is but some young impressionable people dont yet . Forgive me but misleading with ' alt facts' can hurt someone even if you dont mean it. I think you are a good person not looking to hurt anyone. But the way you postulate without any evidence makes your actions a little but like those of a charlatan. Peace and kindness

All these kind words you spew...

It feels more like an advice than a question so I'm not sure how to respond to it...

Let me just say thank you? I never quite understood what the brouhaha was about with my posts but after talking to a few people, 'on the other side' lol and reading your Ask, I think I'm starting to get a better sense of what the problem is.

Something about young impressionable minds or people?

Let the council of elders know, those are not my audience please. I cater to a much more mature audience- at least so far. The people that I interact with and engage with on my posts on and off Tumblr are very mature and not impressionable at all.

They are People with brains who can tell an opinion from fact and can engage in deep complex controversial conversations without throwing up, shedding tears or cussing through to the heavens.

If there are 'impressionable people' reading my blogs- they do so at their own risk. If you know any such people or they run to you with my theories kindly point out to them it's just theory because that's what my opinions are.

I think the best thing you can do is to advice such people to grow up if they are going to sit at the adult table or not read my posts at all. I think you need to learn to hold the right people accountable for their actions.

The best I can do in this case- to hold myself accountable, is to put up a disclaimer on my posts to let people know what it is that they are reading- something I do quite often. But I will make conscious efforts to put up those disclaimers each time henceforth. Thank you.

That I write full on narratives with impossible specificity:

Is this Latin for, 'you write fiction get the fuck outta here?' Chilee.

I don't even know what you mean by this exactly so I may not be able to respond to it to your satisfaction. Bare with me.

So what if I write fiction? What is wrong with writing fiction? Do you hate fiction writers? I don't get what the hate is with these complaints honestly. Do you want me to put up a disclaimer stating my blogs are fiction? Would that help? I would glady do it.

If it helps you sleep at night think of my blogs as fiction- a rose by any other name. I've been keeping up with Shakespeare. Lol.

I don't think it's that deep. Listen, you gotta understand that just because we both 'ship' Jikook don't mean we are on the same team...

Most alt shippers I know and who read my posts and engage with it are not even Army to begin with, for your information. They could care less about these shipping politics of yours. Have you thought about that?

Some simply ship JK and JM and support them because they believe they are members of the LGBTQ plus community not because they are part of BTS.

There are different communities out there who are also into Jikook- for very different reasons. You gotta respect that.

To you, Jikook is just a ship within BTS that may or may not be real, but to some of us they have very much outgrown that description...

They are a brand of their own, a power couple and members of the LGBTQ plus community- Gay Icons extraordinaire. I think we take very different stock in Jikook. So stop trying to fit us all into one box.

It's disrespectful to try and control the way that people perceive their OTP and support them. Jikook don't just belong to Army Jokers, they belong to different communities outside Army. Are you aware of that?

And please don't confuse the intersect. I am an alt-shipper yes but I just so happen to be an Army too. But if I wasn't an Army, I'd still pretty much 'ship' and support Jikook- make no mistake. There are quite a few of us running around these streets, you know?

So you have every right to want to gatekeep your Army Jikook- but you have to do that without infringing on other rights of other 'Jikook communities.'

Throughout my blogs I have tried to shed light on what altshipping is because I thought it would help bridge the gap but clearly that hasn't worked. Sigh.

Misleading alt facts

Do you not know what it means or you are just being ironic?👀

Why is it ok for you to believe and proclaim that JK and BigHit lied about JK dating the Tattoo artist but it's not ok for me to believe JK is telling the truth when he says he didn't date her and that BigHit saw an opportunity to kill two birds with one stone- hence why they didn't press charges against the shop for breach of privacy like they had said they were going to do. Instead, they had asked the shop to keep calm till the scandal died down on it's own?

You start your piece off with the whole, 'there is enough evidence to support a romantic relationship' between JK and the tattoo shop lady- I assume.

For context, this Ask by this anon is in response to my recent post/ answer on the tattoo girl scandal where the topic of discussion was on BigHit, JK and the tattoo artist and not Jikook perse.

A statement that is in direct conflict with JK's statement, BigHit's and the lady in questions, all denying that there was a romantic relationship between her and Jungkook- and somehow I am misleading who- who now with my theory??? Chileee.

Do you see the problem here? Double standards- the hallmark of bigotry. Lmho. You are literally doing the very thing you are accusing me of. Making confident assertions and claiming you know more about JK and the Lady's relationship and even have 'enough evidence' contrary to BigHit, JK and the Tattoo artist's statements denying the rumors- at least when I theorize I admit I'm being delusional. What's your excuse? When you say charlatan are you referring to yourself? You must be. Lmho.

Now I'm confident in my comprehension skills and intelligent enough to know when you make an assertion like this- it is your opinion and you are just stating your opinion. If you are not then honey you'd be opening yourself up to some serious litigation... goodluck I guess. Lol.

You are allowed to form an opinion about a topic. There is nothing wrong with that. If to you, JK and this person dated that is fine. I am not going to cyber bully you, stalk you, throw slurs at you, harrass you, dox you, slid into people's Dms to spread hate and lies about you just because I don't agree with your opinion. And for the record, I don't agree with your opinion. Hehehehe.

I have stated my opinion on the matter. I said I think JK and this person did hang out, go on dates but that there was no romantic sexual relationship between them because I believe that would have had much serious consequences and effects on Jikooks dynamics no matter how much they tried to keep a cool facade. Whoever felt cheated on would have acted more insecure than usual post the incident- how does this make me a charlatan? Are you saying it's wrong it have an opinion? Chileee.

Now if you can produce 'evidence' of them having sex or even kissing, then I will gladly change my mind on the topic and not sweat it.

Jikook have done way worse questionable things in 7 good years and people still don't believe they are dating. Jk hangs out with a female friend a few times in less than a month and suddenly he is dating her? Lmho.

You don't need me to tell you people are more eager to accept a heterosexual relationship than wrap their heads around the fact that two male idols are gay and in a gay relationship with eachother. Don't you just love it when homophobia meets heteronormativity and stinks? I do. Lol.

I mean this is a fandom that thinks JK is 'too touchy' and doesn't respect his boundaries- they practically swear JK is cheating on Jimin with every member any time he hugs, kisses, wings at within the group. You think they will be 'objective' about JK hanging out with a girl? Even if it happened once?

You said something about confirmation bias.... I will not touch it. Lmho.

This is not the first time JK has gone on a date with a girl. This is not the first time he has 'dated a girl', he has hand girls on his laps or whatever- what is a back hug? I think people need to stop defining Jikook's lives by their own standards. If a backhug is intimate to you. Thats you. If you think a grown ass man cannot hang out with a female friend, that's equally you.

You think if he thought it was inappropriate and risky he would do it 'in public?' Get with Kpop Idol dating culture. Lmho.

Do you know the lengths they go through to keep their relationships a secret? Especially non celebrity girlfriends? Chen from EXO got married and where is his wife? They keep their flings tighter than Trump keeps his toupee on his head. Lol.

They hide them not out of shame but out of love and the need to protect their loved ones. These idols have family members who have their restaurants and businesses shut down because they want to keep their privacy.

You think JungKook's girlfriend would- on her own, issue a statement regarding a scandal that Jungkook's agency had specifically directed her and her shop to keep quiet about and lay low till it blew away on its own? And later, started liking couple posts about her and JK? If they were dating, certainly JK would have dumped her after that move. In my opinion.

You think JK would let his fandom drag the person he is in a relationship with to the extent she loses her Job- when in his Itaewon gay pub scandal BigHit referred to the issue as his private affair immediately it happened? They could have kept the same energy with her, no?

They handled his gay pub scandal much better, with much respect and consideration for his privacy- if he dated her sorry but she mustn't have meant much to him at all. And if I were her I would have dumped him for that shit and not stay liking couple posts about us. Damn- But do you.

Taehyung was in a scandal with a girl too- did you see her liking posts and shit and going out of her way to do the most? Did you see how BigHit handled that scandal?

Nothing wrong if JK is 'dating' her or had 'dated' her and whatever person he decides he wants to be in a relationship with I will support him- that's why I support Jikook.

But your opinion is equally valid my guy. Just don't call me a charlatan for mine. You believe they dated, I believe they didn't- and to your impressionable young minds, I hope you are not selling them anything contrary to BigHit and JK's statement. That would be very irresponsible of you. Lol.

What else did you say?

Oh postulating without evidence...

Next time I write a theory based on my observations about Jikook, remind me to break off a piece of my brain and attach it to it- I guess that way people would finally understand when I say things like 'I think' 'in my opinion' 'I feel' 'I believe' that these are just my thoughts and opinions and not facts.

Let me leave you with this:

Peace and kindness. Namaste.

Signed,

GOLDY.

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nicka-nell · 3 years

Note

Aaaaaand my second req is sfw alphabet with Sugawara (´▽`ʃ♡ƪ)

Sugawara Koushi: SFW-Alphabet

Waaah I am soo so excited because I am so happy about this request! ♥

Actually, I wanted to upload the Kuroo story first, but sadly my laptop thought that it doesn’t save the file before it crashes :’’). I’ve already written half of it again, but I’ll finish the rest tomorrow and then upload it. (because it’s already late for me)

I hope that’s okay :(

Buuuut now I wish you at least a lot of fun with the Sugamama-alphabet! *u*

Stay healthy and safe ♥♥

Easter Event (match-up/ sfw & nsfw-alphabet/ prompts)

A = Affection (little things they do to show love)

Since Sugawara works as a teacher, he always has to get up early. He prepares your breakfast by placing a coffee cup and a plate and cutlery on the table for you. In his first break, he writes you a sweet good morning message, with motivating words for the day. But most of all, he shows you his love by listening to you with full attention when you tell him something.

B = Beginning (how you met)

The first time you saw each other was at Ukai’s store. Sugawara and Ukai were just discussing some volleyball tactics for their team when you came to the store. Actually, all you wanted to do was ask for directions to the new cafe in town. But after Ukai gave you a complicated explanation of the way, which sounded more like a scavenger hunt, Sugawara said that he would accompany you there. So you went to the cafe, and as a thank you, you invited him for coffee.

C = Confession (how they confess)

He was a little nervous, although he was sure that he had interpreted your feelings for him correctly. Sugawara asked you if you want to go back to that cafe and wanted to confess his feelings there. However, the time was never right and his feelings for you remained unspoken. You were already standing on the doorstep and wanted to go to your apartment when Sugawara stopped you and reached after your hands. With a charming smile, he caressed the back of your hand as he gathered his courage and confessed all his feelings for you. His confession was honest and full of emotion. As if he wanted to show you everything about him.

D = Dating (what are they like on their first date)

On your first date, he wanted to have dinner with you, but he had so many exams to control that he had not made it out of school. So you had bought two servings of fried noodles and had visited him at school. Sugawara sat at his desk, you on top of it while you ate the noodles and talked. The exams were only secondary, because he only had eyes for you. From the outside he was calm, but inside his heart beat so loudly that he was afraid you could hear it. He kept apologizing for that screwed up date, which made you laugh. Even after years of your relationship, Sugawara likes to invite you on a date. Mostly they are rather intimate, only you both in quiet places with little or no people.

E = Evolution (how fast does your relationship evolve)

Very slowly. Not because he’s uncomfortable with changes, no. Sugawara enjoys every second with you and thinks you don’t have to rush into anything. He wants it all to be special that you will remember these milestones for a long time, and smile while thinking of them.

F = Fiancee (do they want to get married)

He definitely wants to marry you. Even if weddings become increasingly out of fashion, it is part of a relationship for him. He would love to see you in a wedding dress, and would cry inwardly with joy when you walk to the altar. Sometimes when he puts his signature under an exam, he leans back in his chair and silently mumbles your name with his last name.

G = Gentleman (how gentle are they)

Sugawara is very gentle and attentive. Whether it is his touch, how he gently lays his hand on your shoulder, or your conversations, where he’s just fixating on you. But he can also be rough, then only unintentionally, when you fight playfully and he accidentally kicks you out of bed because he forgets that he is much stronger than you.

H = Hugs (do they like hugs/cuddles)

It depends on where you are. At home, he loves to cuddle or hug you. Whether it’s small gentle hugs or swinging twists with you in his arms. He loves it to cuddle in the evening, before you sleep. But his favourite position is, you both are facing each other with your arms draped around your body’s. You can look each other in the eye. And that’s what Sugawara loves, watching you full of love while caressing your form.

I = I love you (how fast do they say it)

Unlike in the evolution of your relationship, it happened quickly when Sugawara said ‘I love you.’ for the first time. And even now he whispers to you every night a fond ‘I love you’ before he gives you a kiss on the shoulder and falls asleep.

J = Jealousy (how jealous do they get, what do they do when they’re jealous)

Sugawara is not jealous, he trusts you completely. But if it should come to a situation where he gets jealous, he would wave and come to your side with a broad grin to give you a smack on the cheek. He would also leave you quickly if you want to, but not without telling you how much he loves you. Hoping the person in front of you understands you are in a relationship with Sugawara.

K = Kisses (how are their kisses)

His kisses are usually playful and loving. Fleeting and brief kisses on the lip followed by a cheerful smile as he looks into your eyes is his way of affection. Tongue kisses are rather rare. In the beginning he was nervous and overwhelmed with tongue kisses, and had more often accidentally hit his teeth against yours, but he got better and better.

L = Light up (what do they do to make you feel better after a rough day)

If you have a bad day, Sugawara immediately notices it. He makes you a hot tea or chocolate and snuggles you in a warm blanket. He listens to you if you want to let all the negative out while he’s standing behind the sofa scratching your head. If you still don’t feel better after that, he stretches out his hand, tense it and knocks with the side of his hand on your shoulder, with the words ‘out with the negative energy!’

M = Mornings (how you start the day)

In the week you get up alone, because Sugawara has to get up before you. On weekends, he likes to lie in bed with you. Usually you get up before him, make a nice breakfast before you wake him up with the meanwhile bright sun rays. You have breakfast together while talking about what you are going to do today.

N = Nurse (how do they take care of you when you’re sick)

If you are sick, he will make you a lot of tea and bring you some of the delicious chicken soup his mother made especially for you. He always reminds you to drink and eat a lot, but leaves you alone in bed most of the time, since he knows you need rest to get fit again. Still, he checks the bedroom every hour to see if you need anything.

O = Open (when would they start revealing things about themselves)

Sugawara is more of a listener than a speaker. That’s why he reveals nothing unless you ask him to. He has no problem talking to you about himself, only he prefers to talk about you. Even in the beginning it was okay with him to reveal things about himself if you asked him.

P = Pregnancy (do they want kids, how are they in your pregnancy)

He definitely wants kids, but he isn’t pushy about this topic. Step by step. Sugawara would barely change in your pregnancy. He would just pay more attention to buying food that you can eat. He tries to be present at all gynaecological appointments, even if he does not always make it. Sugawara would be incredibly proud and would tell his friends about the fact that you two will soon have offspring.

Q = Quarrels (how is it to have a fight with them)

You don’t know exactly what it’s like to argue with him, since you almost have no quarrels. Sugawara always tries to settle everything as peacefully and adult as possible, so that there is no quarrel, since he hates it to see you upset.

At your wedding he is the happiest man on earth when he sees you in the beautiful dress before him. So damn happy that he’s crying. You have a small wedding, only with your closest friends and relatives. You have rented a room and spend your wedding there classically and comfortably, with wonderful food, a small wedding cake and calm music.

R = Rings (how do they propose, the wedding, the honeymoon)

His proposal was well prepared. Sugawara had recreated your first encounter. He called you to go to Ukai’s store, because he wouldn’t make it to the restaurant in time. He was just waiting for you to come through the door when Ukai asked if you were looking for the new cafe. At first you were confused, but you could tell from Sugawara’s smile that there is more behind all this. So you played along and Sugawara and you were back at the cafe. When he asked you the same questions as he did when you first met you thought this was the cutest date ever. But you were wrong. In the evening you stood at your doorstep, as he took your hands in his, playing with the back of your hand. It was just the same gesture as years ago, where he confessed his feelings. Yet, it was another kind of confession. It was a proposal full of love.

You spend your honeymoon at home. Because that’s where you feel most comfortable. You sleep long, start your day with cuddling sessions while you sit on the terrace until night afterwards, as Sugawara raises your hand and kisses the no longer empty spot on your ring finger with the words “My beloved Mrs. Sugawara.”

S = Secrets (do they keep secrets from you)

He has no secrets from you. Everything that matters, he tells you without hesitation. If he hides something, then only because he has forgotten to say it, so unintentionally.

T = Try (how much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks)

He would put a lot of effort into the relationship. After all, he wants you to lack nothing. He loves to see you smile. You always go to a restaurant or cafe together after work. Also, he often gives you something, but mostly small things that have a deeper meaning. For example, a necklace which reminds you of your first vacation. He also does not shy away from daily chores, he makes breakfast, laundry and goes grocery shopping during the week.

U = Ugly (their bad habits)

He’s not a big talker, so he often carries his insecurity and negative feelings around until you talk to him about it. He often thinks that he didn’t deserve you. Another bad habit is that he distributes his pens everywhere in the apartment and never knows where he put them down.

V = Voicing (how hard is it for them to talk about their feelings)

It’s not really hard for him to talk about his feelings. Only he does not talk about them without being asked, because he finds them too unimportant and does not want to burden others with it. But when it comes to expressing his love for you, he does so without hesitation. He tells you how happy you make him every day.

W = Waking up (how is it to wake up by their side)

Waking up next to Sugawara can be nice but also exciting. He rarely wakes up before you, then strokes your cheek while watching you until you wake up. He greets you with his angelic smile and a gentle ‘good morning’. You cuddle for a while before you get up, have breakfast together and then get ready for the day. But most of the time you get awake through his arm in your face, his loud snoring because he’s lying on his back. You get up to let the bright light into the room because that’s the only thing that really helps to wake him up. While Sugawara is still busy getting up, you prepare breakfast and push the hot coffee into his hand while he strolls into the kitchen like a zombie.

X = XOXO (PDA, kisses or hugs in public)

He enjoys being close to you, but he’s not one to be extremely touchy. Most of the time, Sugawara walks beside you, always looking down at you to give you a friendly smile. But if you are in the city where several people are too, he likes to hold your hand or just your little finger. Also, he does not like to kiss you properly, because this beautiful look of you after your kiss no one but himself may see. But he likes to give you a smooch on the cheek to say goodbye, or hello, or if he notices men are watching you.

Y = Yuck (what are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner)

In general, Sugawara hates arguments. He just doesn’t feel comfortable with them and doesn’t want to hurt the other person’s feelings and probably barley soup. In a partner Sugawara wouldn’t like it if you’re not self-employed or if you would dislike his friends.

Z = Zzz (what is a sleep habit of theirs, does it change around a partner)

Sugawara always sleeps on his back. At first, it looked frightening how little he had moved, almost like a corpse. But you quickly learned that he uses his arms to stretch them all over the bed. Sugawara needs a blanket to sleep properly, and only a pillow because several would disturb him. During the week he tries to fall asleep around 10pm, but he rarely succeeds. Most of the time he stays awake into the night to correct exams or to write new plays for his team. Therefore, he often lacks sleep, which is why he probably wants to sleep for a long time on the weekend. What’s changed since he’s been with you is that he’s snuggled up with you until you fall asleep before he lies on his back again and that he is less awake into the night, since he always gets tired when he cuddles with you and then usually briefly falls asleep after you.

#haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #sugawara x reader #koushi x reader #nelas easter event

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