#and if I have the time and energy to polish it up or give it a background or etc

[linkemon]

About some things Jing Yuan likes (Jing Yuan x Reader)

Friendly reminder that English is not my first language. You can check my Masterlists both in English and Polish here. Consider supporting me on Ko-fi. You can also check out my commissions if you’re interested.

Other oneshots can be found here.

ᴀ ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ ᴏꜰ ᴀʟʟ ᴛʜᴇ ꜰᴀᴠᴏᴜʀɪᴛᴇ ᴛʜɪɴɢꜱ (ᴀɴᴅ ᴘᴇᴏᴘʟᴇ) ɪɴ ᴊɪɴɢ ʏᴜᴀɴ'ꜱ ʟɪꜰᴇ, ɪɴᴄʟᴜᴅɪɴɢ [ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ]…

Jing Yuan likes challenges

— I asked to not disturb me! — [Reader] shook her head at the papers. 

— Yes, but…— the employee began with an impatient expression on her face. 

— Who is it this time? — The woman ran her hand over her face. 

Was it that hard to block the doors of a respected guild? Leave her alone with a stack of Xianzhou Alliance documents? She didn't feel like breathing in the dust for the rest of the day but someone had to take care of the deliveries. Even if it meant dealing with the grumpy merchants who came here to air their grievances. 

— It's the general... 

— Jing Yuan — [Reader] finished, not very enthusiastically, seeing the man on the doorstep. 

The general seemed full of energy. An unusual sight, considering his sleepy nickname. This time he was not dozing off at all, approaching her desk with a flourish. She could do nothing but sigh theatrically, for the umpteenth time that tiring day. Especially since she saw a handful of employees casually peeking through the large doors and small windows. They listened, pretending to concentrate. Thirsty for gossip, as always. 

— To what do I owe this visit? 

Jing Yuan smiled in his usual way. He looked like a child ready to commit a mischief here and now. His white hair fell unruly over his forehead. 

— You haven’t responded to my proposal — he said, frowning. 

He didn't look like someone who hadn't expected this. Quite the opposite. Like the fun had just begun. 

[Reader] could have sworn her employees' ears grew in seconds. They were going to love this show. She was sure of it. 

—I'm used to serious proposals being made face to face. — She made a pyramid of her fingers and rested her chin on them. 

The letter from the general sat quietly in her desk drawer. She had read it several times but she wouldn't give him that satisfaction. At least not right away. Although she had to admit that it was a set of incredibly charming words. It was hard not to melt when reading about her virtues on elegant, coated paper. Especially when the envelope still seemed to smell like its original owner. 

— How serious is a marriage proposal? — The man narrowed his eyes. 

The group of people behind them looked like they had just seen a ghost. One of the workers grabbed her closest colleague by the arm and let out something like a quiet, barely suppressed squeal. 

— I understand you’re here to fix your mistake? — [Reader] asked teasingly. 

— I’m ready for anything — he said, looking her straight in the eye. 

— Oh, yeah? It's dangerous to say things like that when you're one of the arbiter-generals... 

The employees rolled their eyes as if watching a wildly interesting game of chess. The crowd seemed to be getting thicker, people from other departments were arriving. They had long since outgrown the massive doors. 

— I will beg on my knees — saying this, Jing Yuan lowered himself to the floor. 

He didn't look like someone who wanted forgiveness. Or someone who had given up. More like someone who had just made an attack and was waiting for his opponent to respond. The general was having fun. 

— Apology accepted but if you thought it would be that easy, you're sorely mistaken. I'm giving you — she put her finger to her cheek, feigning thoughtfulness — three dates. Convince me it's worth it and I'll consider your offer.

Mischievous sparks danced in his golden eyes. 

— Your wish is my command. — The general took her hand, kissed it gently and moved back toward the door. 

— Get back to work! — The crowd dispersed immediately. 

The building filled with loud discussions. 

Jing Yuan likes chess and Yanqing

The separate part of the headquarters was located far from the watchful eyes of prying politicians. The tiny garden was surrounded by walls separating it from the rest of the world. People without direct connection to general rarely visited it. Therefore, the surprise of the young adept was all the greater. 

— Think about defense or you’ll lose in the next ten moves. — Yanqing turned at the sound of a familiar voice. [Reader] was standing behind him. — Eyes on the board or the general will eat your pieces when you’re not looking! — she added. 

Jing Yuan let out a low, deep laugh. The boy knew him well enough to know that it was sincere. Different from the ones the master gave certain people who sought his favour. It was mostly done for political reasons, which must have been tiring. Yanqing understood why it was important but it didn't change the fact that he himself never wanted to be in such a situation. Perfecting his martial art and cutting through the air with new blades was much more interesting. Not to mention how lonely the life of a general seemed to him once he got to know him better. Surrounded by people but at the end of the day used for specific purposes by everyone around him, including Yanqing himself. That was why when the rumors of an alleged marriage proposal reached the adept's ears, which had shaken several offices, including the headquarters, he wanted to laugh. He figured it had to be some kind of set up. Something that would bring tangible political benefits or allow him to catch some threat to the Xianzhou Alliance. He changed his mind only when a familiar name appeared on the lips of one of the employees. [Reader]. If anyone could truly turn the general's head around without any strings attached, it could only be her. The woman standing behind him now, at the sight of whom the teacher made something called googly eyes. Liquid gold laughed along with his lips. 

— You can join us. You’ll see that I’m an honest man — Jing Yuan gestured the guest to the red, ornate cushions. 

— You are an honest man but you definitely don’t play fair. — Saying this, [Reader] sat down next to Yanqing. 

The general nodded. He began pouring the recently brewed tea. The silence was broken by the sipping from three hand-decorated cups. The game was still going on. 

[Reader] whispered something in the ear of the apprentice, who withdrew his hand thoughtfully. Eventually, he made a move with a completely different piece. The situation repeated itself a few more times. General watched the funny conspiracy of turning around and trying to escape his gaze. He had to admit that it was incredibly funny and very unfair of them but at the same time enjoyable. Perhaps that was why he didn't feel any anger at seeing his defeat. But was it a real defeat if he gave them a head start? Yanqing seemed unaware but [Reader] gave him a look that suggested she saw through him. If they were playing alone, he would have heard a good talk by now. However, the woman looked at the young apprentice sitting right next to him and rejoiced with him at his victory. Even if she knew it wasn't real. 

— I can't believe I finally made it. — The boy looked at the board as if he was seeing it for the first time in his life. 

— The moral of the next lesson is that cooperation is extremely important — Jing Yuan said. 

The adept, however, was no longer listening to him. He gathered himself in the blink of an eye and ran, as he suspected, towards the training ground. 

— He’s a good boy — [Reader] said, following him with her gaze. — Ready for some real competition?

— Of course. 

Jing Yuan likes animals

[Reader] glanced around the room. Her eyes scanned the room for anything of interest. The guards at the door had been informed that she was coming and they had silently left her in one of the many vast rooms belonging to the arbiter-general. Her gaze swept over the rows of gilt-framed paintings that lined the long hallway. Here and there, she spotted antiques but overall, Jing Yuan wasn’t exactly a sentimental man. Even along the way, she didn’t see any personal items. She could have expected that from someone who had erased their memories to avoid the influence of the mara but there was something slightly sad about it. 

In a split second, something warm and wet appeared under [Reader]'s hand. She screamed and jumped back as if scalded. The heavy body pinned her to the ground. It smelled of meat. Whiteness covered her world for a moment. She heard something about a snow lion amidst the smacking. Only after a loud sigh did she hear Jing Yuan's clear voice: 

— Mimi!

The lioness moved away reluctantly. 

From under the drooling face, [Reader] could finally see the culprit of all the commotion. Up until now, she had only heard stories about her. Wave Treading Snow Lion — that was the full name of the giant cat. At least, that was what she seemed to be when Jing Yuan was tricked at a young age. The vendor swore that she was a real grimalkin but little Mimi grew and grew. The boy could barely cover the cost of meat for her. They even started calling him a Gluttonous General, thinking that he ate everything himself. Over time, the cat's name stopped fitting. However, that didn't mean that she reacted the same way to the new one. If he really wanted to get her attention, he had to use the old one. 

— I apologize for her. She hasn't met anyone new in a long time. — The General offered her his hand. 

His hand left a pleasant warmth behind. He held it a second longer than befits a gentleman. The thought alone made her want to smile but the wicked smile on his face made her stop. He knew exactly what he was doing. He liked to play games like that. 

— You’re doing a better job of raising Yanqing than her — she joked, standing up. 

— It's hard to disagree — he said, handing her a hand-embroidered handkerchief. — Come with me. I'll show you the garden.

The lioness wouldn't give up. She nudged her owner with her nose. Blue eyes stared pleadingly at the general. He stopped and lowered himself to her level. After a moment, the white fur became one with Jing Yuan's hair. With his outfit, it was hard to tell where the animal began and the human ended. Until the pink tongue went straight to meet the familiar face. 

— We make a good team. Now we can be covered with saliva together. — She handed him the tissue back. 

She almost screamed for the second time that day. A new shade appeared among the ubiquitous white and a very mobile one at that. The finch poked its head out from just above the man's head. 

— How many more animals do you have? — [Reader] asked, petting Mimi, who looked at the bird enviously. 

— I am not an owner if that's what you're asking. The finches come here from time to time, when they feel like it. — The bird hopped onto the general's shoulder. 

— And you let them walk all over you? — she asked. 

It seemed as if the animals were climbing on Jing Yuan's head not only metaphorically but literally. 

— They’ve been trying to build nests but so far I’m doing okay. — The finch tilted its head, just like the general.

— Then let's go to the garden with your... menagerie — she finished uncertainly. 

Jing Yuan likes [Reader]

— What are you talking about? — Jing Yuan asked in disbelief. 

— That's it! She's been kidnapped — Fu Xuan said irritably. 

The woman sighed loudly. Why did she have to deliver such news? She wasn't some errand boy. She had other things to do. Including predicting what would happen to the entire nation and taking the place of the general when he abdicated (she couldn't wait for that to happen). In the meantime, she was forced to watch as the pillar of the Xianzhou Alliance melted before her eyes. In a few seconds, however, he straightened up and moved with a spring in his step towards the door. His walk turned into a run in the blink of an eye. Fu Xuan managed to hear something about the guards being called. From the balcony, she saw a group of knights running out to meet their doom. It was unlike Jing Yuan to be so hot-headed. If only he had listened to the end, he wouldn't have run like a fool. The crisis had been averted. 

She strained her ears. The conversation from the courtyard could be heard quite well despite the city noise. 

— You were kidnapped and I’m just finding out now? — Jing Yuan’s voice was slightly offended. 

The remark was not directed at anyone in particular. He blamed himself most of all. 

— I just got back. — [Reader] gestured to the small group of workers trotting along behind her. — Most of them need a doctor.  

A shadow of disbelief passed through the general's eyes. They set off towards the infirmary. On the way, he was given a brief report, although technically the matter was in no way under his jurisdiction. The guilds would deal with it. 

They were all kidnapped because of the merchants' dissatisfaction. Kidnappers went to the first office they saw, although further investigation will show whether it's true. The hostages escaped because one of the kidnappers didn't close the window properly enough. The employee who managed to get out of it notified the nearest knights' unit. The rest was just a matter of time. The whole thing was over in just a few hours, so no one even had time to make official demands. 

Jing Yuan watched [Reader] closely. This wasn't the Dozing General. This was another side of him. The one which acted when the need demanded it. Giving orders to those around him and organizing them. 

The medics began to bustle among the patients. 

— Apart from a few bruises, I’m fine — she replied, feeling his intense gaze on her. 

— Maybe someone should check it. — Jing Yuan didn’t seem convinced. 

— You can kiss it better. It'll probably go away faster that way — [Reader] joked before he could call over any of the medics. 

The eyes turned to liquid gold for a moment. She recognized the mischievous sparks that danced in them. The white locks of hair moved dangerously close. [Reader] felt Jing Yuan's warm breath on her face. He looked like a snow lion. Ready to play and pounce at the same time. The general's gaze shifted to her lips. 

— I meant my bruises — she added, more quietly than before. 

— Of course you did — he replied. 

He didn't look convinced. Eventually, though, hesitantly, he cupped her cheek and placed a gentle kiss on it. 

— As far as I know, I’m completely healthy here — she replied sarcastically. 

— You have a giant scratch here — Jing Yuan assured. 

— Let's say I believe you. 

She looked around the room. Most of the workers had already received medical care. She breathed a sigh of relief. 

— You know this is our third meeting since you took the bet? — The general changed the subject. 

He looked like he wanted to ask another question but ultimately refrained. 

— That's a coincidence, which means it doesn't count at all. We'll have to continue to make it fair — [Reader] said. 

—Well, if you say so, I guess I can’t argue. — A familiar smile appeared on Jing Yuan’s face. 

[str33t-c4t]

For Snake: Are you more of a stay at home kind of Sneasel or a wild night out Sneasel?

"And there are some nights where I'm just not having his bs anymore"

QNA rules and info: https://str33t-c4t.tumblr.com/post/738445308634218496/qna-basically-everything-you-need-to-know-about

[foldingfittedsheets]

When I was working at the sex shop I was pulling poverty wages. I loved my job but I was on food stamps and still barely getting by. When they hired the stores first male employee and he started at my pay rate after I’d been there for three years I quit.

I was initially really nervous when I saw the post for the mattress job. It listed a pay scale that I couldn’t even conceptualize and I appeared qualified. When I got an interview I was over the moon but also petrified. Reactions to my line of work often varied but most people were very embarrassed or skeptical. I worried about how I’d address it in the actual interview.

I lived far to the north of their headquarters and drove almost two hours to get there. When I finally arrived it was in the nicest thrift store clothes I could find, but I shrank inside to see a room full of older white men in nice suits waiting to be interviewed for the same job.

Why did I bother? I was decades younger than anyone else in the room, shabbily dressed, and I suspected I was the only afab person in the entire building. I stewed in my insecurities until I was called in.

The second I met my interviewer I was instantly put at ease. The man had the energy of a therapy dog, he was abound with positive, good natured energy. He was also incredibly beautiful. I grinned back at his welcoming smile as we said our pleasantries. But still. This very beautiful polished man seemed very innocent. How would the sex shop question go?

“I see here you worked at STORE?”

“Yes,” I said hesitantly.

“And that was sales? Or you just rang people up.”

“No, it was sales. I’d help people find products, we were encouraged to upsell, there was sales spiffs, and most importantly we educated customers on products to help them find what they liked best.”

He grinned approvingly and asked, “Can you give me an example of a time you successfully upsold a customer?”

I paused, wringing my hands before I asked, “How vague would you like me to be…?”

“Not at all!” He assured me. “Go for it!”

“Well. A man came in looking for something to make his fingers vibrate so when he was touching his wife it would enhance that sensation. We had cheap $10 cockrings that I showed him first. But we had a rechargeable waterproof one made of nicer material, and after I showed him a demo he bought that one.”

“How much was that one?”

“$110”

“Wow! You had an upsell of 100% from what he came in looking for! That’s incredible!”

He was so truly genuinely stoked and not at all embarrassed that for the first time I saw a tiny glimmer of a future where I didn’t have ramen and peanut butter tiding me over between paychecks.

He asked me to wait then came back to tell me he liked me so much that he wanted to send me right into another interview, if that was okay. He didn’t want me to have to drive back later, it was terribly considerate and exciting. I beamed and told him it would be lovely.

I then had the second worst interview I’ve ever had. The worst goes to the time I applied to be a store manager for a pet food place years later. The district and store manager interviewing me passed notes and texted while I was speaking. When the district manager called to inform me I didn’t get the job I told him I’d never have accepted anyway because I’d never had such a disrespectful interview.

The new man sitting behind the desk radiated an aura of a brick wall. As someone with anxiety I’m highly keyed into the emotional states of people I’m talking to. To receive no feedback at all was my personal hell. After a perfunctory greeting he asked me with no inflection to sell him a pen.

I gathered the shreds of my courage and attempted the Herculean task he’d set me. Through my whole improvised spiel he resisted all attempts at engaging him, regarding me with a cold apathy as I touted the benefits of my fictitious pen.

Halfway through I broke into a cold sweat. My smile didn’t waver but it grew strained as I projected friendliness and warmth into the black hole of his heart. My thoughts scattered and my sales pitch grew redundant in the face of his nothingness. I finally concluded with a hard close and he simply nodded.

He glanced at my resume and commented, “You didn’t ask me to touch or hold it. Though I suppose I can understand from your previous line of work why you wouldn’t.” I shriveled and died inside knowing that I encouraged people to touch dildos all day long and had been too frazzled to offer him the pen.

He bid me a cool farewell. I made it to my car before I started sobbing. I had never been so rattled. I couldn’t understand what I’d done to make him so unfriendly or if my threadbare clothes were what had made him treat me like dirt. I drove an hour and a half to get home, weeping intermittently.

I was therefore taken by complete surprise to receive a call the next day inviting me on board for their five week training program. The first man who’d interviewed me gushed on the phone about how the second guy had loved me and that I was going to be fantastic.

I was in shock. When I showed up to training the second interviewer was charming my new classmates, beaming and laughing. He was an utterly different person. To my dismay I learned he was the trainer for my district and would be my point of contact if I made it through training.

He joked with me later that his interview facade was just a tactic to see how people held up under pressure and I filed him into a category of my deepest enmity. I never forgave him for how small he made me feel that day, but I never showed him the depths of my fury.

I aced every test and went on to be valedictorian of the eight people who had survived the rigorous training process to earn a sales position. When I got my first paycheck I bought myself new clothes, the first non-thrifted things I’d owned in years.

[lokissweater]

hey! i really love your fics and i have a special request 4 my 19th birthday ( aug 16 ) . can you do inexperienced yuuta x inexperienced reader or frat boy/play boy yuuta x shy nerdy reader? I really luv u and it would mean alot 2 me if you did this,feel free to say no or ignore this if you want! no pressure!

OH MY GOODNESSS i could never ignore this! i can ABSOLUTELY cook this one up for you and i hope i met your expectations!! i wanted to release this right on your birthday, so here is my gift to you! <3 ILY you’re so sweet thank you for sending in a request!

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finally.

{frat boy/playboy yuta okkotsu x nerdy f!reader}

summary: yuta okkotsu is a typical popular frat boy player who’s never been told no, but at one of his regular parties where he spots your pretty little self in the kitchen, and you turn him down? his entire existence resets as he then cannot stop thinking about you and tries his absolute hardest to change the impression you have on him.

warnings: college au, afab!reader, fluufff, mentions of alcohol and drinking, yuta LOVES you, he’s a little weenie at first, character development yuta, no smut in this one!, cursing, party fight, protective yuta, yuta fights someone lol, slight sexual themes but really nothing.

word count: 5k

authors note: OH HOW I LOVE THIS ONEEE!! i hope i’m feeding you guys well this week with these fics hehe!! IM WRITING A FREAKY ONE FOR THIS NEXT SO STAY TUNED!! love you love you <3

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yuta okkotsu was the biggest player and frat boy to ever plague your college campus— having parties literally every other night and trashing the absolute fuck out of his frat house after every single one, living in the privileges of popularity as he was without a doubt the hottest man there.

he absolutely relished in his reputation, loved the attention, loved the stares he got, and had a body count that absolutely shot through the roof in numbers.

and yuta was quite literally a typical frat boy. he was loud and obnoxious, the most stubborn hot headed man to ever exist on the face of the planet, passed the time playing beer pong for fun and drinking, and had girls practically at his feet, him never having to work for anything to get in his bed and fuck.

until he met you.

you had timidly walked into one of his frat parties one night, shy, cutely nerdy, a little scared and absolutely drop dead gorgeous, your energy an entirely different one from his own as he watched you a little too much throughout the night, rehearsing his perfected plan of getting girls into bed with him as he finally spotted you alone in the kitchen after a while, approaching you.

yuta flashed you an attractive polished smile as he leaned up against the kitchen counter, practically cornering you in as you eyed him alarmingly.

“hey,” he sipped at his beer. “what’s your name?”

you awkwardly shifted, wondering where the hell your best friend was as the biggest player you’ve ever heard of was talking to you.

“y-y/n…” you stammered, your gaze barely looking at him but giving a small smile through your nervousness nonetheless.

“pretty name for a pretty girl,” he hummed. “you’ve never come to my parties before, have you?”

you shook your head no, your doe eyes finally peering up at him.

“welcome then!” he chirped smoothly and leaned closer to you, his breath faintly smelling of alcohol. “you here by yourself?”

“no i’m with a friend, actually.” you laughed awkwardly, your cheeks red with embarrassment but smiling politely through your discomfort, not wanting to offend him in any way.

yuta nodded, his eyes scanning the crowd. “did you lose them?”

“i— i guess so—”

“you can stick with me then.” he shrugged, a sly smile on his face as he sweet talked you, it slightly faltering when he noticed how uncomfortable you looked, but carrying on anyways. “you wanna head upstairs? maybe we can—”

“no thank you.”

he paused.

no?

“no?”

he was yuta okkotsu. no girl has ever told him no before.

you shook your head at him and gave him a sugary smile, your tone kind and polite as you started to walk away from him. “i’m sorry, i think i see my friend over there though! thank you for keeping me company, i hope it wasn’t too much trouble!”

he watched you walk away then in your tiny little skirt, and he felt stupidly offended. absolutely stupidly offended as he slightly scoffed and shook his head, taking a swig of his beer, his body and mind literally glitching with the foreign feeling of rejection.

yuta tossed his empty beer bottle lazily in a black garbage bag and stuffed his hands into his pockets, his long legs already pulling him over to the beer pong table in the living room, opting to forgetting the entire encounter he had with you altogether and shaking it off.

except he couldn’t. he couldn’t shake it off.

his brain was buzzing and utterly reeling over the thought of your timid nature and soft spoken words and pretty pretty face from that point forward, thoughts that aggravated him to no end that bubbled up every time he ate, slept, was in class, and did basically anything.

he didn’t know why it was happening. he didn’t know why you took over his every fucking thought as he only interacted with you for like five minutes. but your aura was different. so poised, so shy and gentle, and it was like a red string was physically pulling him towards you everywhere you went.

yuta saw you around campus a lot more after that, you sticking out like a sore thumb and blinding his vision whenever you walked past him, your smile sweet and respectful towards him that lasted only a millisecond as you walked down further, his eyes watching you over his shoulder, soft.

you conversations with him were nothing but polite and casual as he tried to talk to you again and again, your body language guarded and careful, but your voice like silky honey, speaking to him with more kindness than he deserved.

yuta never seemed to be able to get past the invisible wall you built in front of him.

“a girl like her isn’t gonna go for a guy like you, yuta.” one of his frat brothers muttered to him, having been fed up with yuta’s moping and grumbling around the house ever since he saw you.

“and why not.” he gruffed, his arms tightly crossed over his chest as he leaned back on the couch.

“because she’s nothing like us.” he emphasized. “she’s a nerd, respects herself, is way too good for you, and would never let herself waste time with a guy of your reputation.”

his frat brother patted him heavily on the shoulder. “just go back to the ones you usually go for. they’re easy.”

yuta only rolled his eyes and stood, but he really couldn’t deny what he had said. you were too good for him, way too good for him, his life completely mismatched from yours— paths never meant to cross as he solemnly watched you from afar, wanting you to smile at him the way you smiled at others, wanting you to talk about your precious nerdy interests and your studies with him like you do with your friends, and wanting you to just simply look at him longer than the usual casual hello you gave him.

but you never did.

in an attempt to try and talk to you again without seeming like an absolute fucking stupid creep like last time (something he quickly realized), he started throwing parties at his frat literally every single night in hopes of you showing up, scanning the crowd and sulking in a corner when he couldn’t find you, the bags under his eyes growing darker and darker with every time you didnt make an appearance.

he tried to go back to his old ways and hook up with the girls he usually did, tried to bury you in the back of his mind and go back to before, but he just couldn’t, his mind foggy and preoccupied with thoughts of you that invaded his every neuron, making him kiss his hook ups back lazily or straight up just cancel on them— stopping all together in the end.

it had been months, and yuta sat bored out of his mind on the living room couch during another one of his parties, not a single drop of alcohol in his system as music pumped and drummed through the frat that made his headache ten times worse.

these everyday parties were pointless.

he sat up and trudged to the kitchen, pushing past his friends for a beer until he froze.

there you stood, finally, leaning against the kitchen counter all by yourself, just like how you were when he first saw you.

his eyes flew open and he quickly smoothed over his white t-shirt with his hands, heart hammering against his chest so hard that it traveled down to his ribcage as he approached you, internally freaking the fuck out.

“hey y/n,” he greeted quietly and calm, trying his absolute hardest to convey sincerity towards you. “how are you doing?”

your eyes snapped to his and you leaned back a bit, but smiled. “hi yuta! i’m doing okay. how are you?”

he could practically see the wall you had in front of him, your posture timid and cautious, and his eyes only grew more insecure.

“i’m good! do you— do you want a drink? or something? i could—”

“oh it’s okay yuta! i’m fine,” you answered shyly, a grin on your breathtaking face.

yuta gnawed on his thumb, looking around the kitchen for something, anything that could fix the image you had on him.

the fridge.

“do you um—” he walked over to the fridge, almost stumbling over his own shoes as he opened it. “do you want maybe apple juice? or— or i have chocolate milk? or sunny d i drink like an entire dozen a day but—”

you giggled.

his head snapped over to you and watched your pearly smile, shining just for him for a moment, his shoulders slowly relaxing.

yuta sheepishly scratched the back of his neck and laughed along with you.

“sunny d would be great!”

he stared blankly, and then quickly nodded. “o—okay! yes sunny d—”

he ransacked through his fridge, knocking over several cans of energy drinks and beers before he finally found the sunny d’s in the back, tearing one out from the pack and closing the fridge.

“here you go.”

your cheeks glowed pink as you shyly took the small bottle from his hands, a cute wobbly smile on your face that made yuta’s chest clench.

precious.

he wiped his sweaty hands on his jeans.

“i wanted to apologize—” he strained out. “for the way i spoke to you when we first met.”

you stared at him.

“it was never my intention to make you uncomfortable, and i acted like a complete dingbat with the things i said, so i just—” he scuffed his shoe against the kitchen floor. “i’m really sorry.”

you were quiet, big doe eyes blinking up at him in shock— until your frame gently deflated, eyes softening for him.

“you don’t have to apologize yuta honestly.” your soft voice soothed him, a sound he craved to hear everyday since the moment he met you. “i don’t think any less of you if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“you don’t?”

you shook your head cutely, beaming. “i don’t.”

he felt like he could breathe again.

your invisible wall slowly and gradually crumbled away the more you got to know yuta after that. he was still a little flirt, but only a little flirt with you, and he still did his frat boy job duties everyday, but he toned down the parties massively and stopped playing beer pong and drinking just for fun.

it would be a lie if you said you weren’t hesitant about yuta to begin with. you knew of his reputation and the risks you ran with befriending him the way you were— you well aware that he was trying to win you over, but you saw something different in him that he didn’t show to anyone else, and you trusted him, the goodness of your heart always giving people the benefit of the doubt.

he was trying his absolute hardest for you and changing his bad traits, wanting to become a person that deserved to be with you as he listened to you ramble on and on about your classes and your studies all of the time, him smiling adoringly at you because he genuinely loved so much hearing you talk to him and listen to anything you had to say— and yuta was falling practically head over heels over the way you gushed about your little nerdy interests, your eyes shimmering every time.

“and what’s this one called?” he asked softly.

you glanced over. “that’s the corpse flower! they only bloom for two to three days every two to three years.”

“only for two to three days?!” he whispered harshly, the ambiance in the botanical garden quiet and serene as you both observed the different kinds of breeds, flowers being your specialty of knowledge.

and he wanted to know all about it, even though he had a pamphlet in his hand that told him everything.

he wanted to hear it from you.

“and this one?”

he pointed to a vibrant scarlet red flower.

“that’s the cardinal flower. they attract little bees and hummingbirds!”

your words were gentle and polite, your eyes sparkling at all of the different flowers in front of you.

“oo! and this one—” you stopped suddenly, slowly retracting your hand and looking at him bashfully, your cheeks redder than ever.

yuta’s eyebrows furrowed. “what? why’d you stop?” he looked to where you had been staring. “what about this one?”

“sorry!” you sputtered. “i felt like i was getting carried away and talking way too much…”

you laughed it off, but yuta only shook his head.

“no you weren’t. you weren’t at all.”

you peered up at him shyly.

“you can talk about anything you want with me wherever we are, y/n. i like it when you explain to me these things, or anything you know really.” he ruffled your hair. “i like listening to you.”

your cheeks adorned a pinky shade as you took in what he said, and you smiled so so big then, nodding.

“so what’s this one?” he pressed again, lightly.

the bed contained a mix of white and purple flowers, small and dainty as they swayed to and fro a bit with every breeze.

“those are pansies,” you leaned over the railing. “i like these especially because it looks like they have another pair attached to them on the other side.”

“like a little buddy,” yuta commented.

you laughed softly, “yeah! like a little buddy.”

he pointed to a specific pansy that had one white flower and one purple flower on the opposite side.

“that’s you and me.”

“is it?” you grinned. “who’s who?”

“you’re the white one and i’m the purple one,” yuta absentmindedly turned and grabbed your hands gently, playing with your fingertips— and you let him. “because you’re pretty and really fucking smart and way too nice to me, and i’m a douchebag and sometimes i’m a mean and scary old fart.”

you giggled loudly at his joke, shaking your head. “nuh uh. i don’t agree.”

“you don’t?” he quirked an eyebrow, a silly smile on his face.

you shook your head again. “you’re genuine yuta. really genuine. and you’re funny, you never make me feel embarrassed for the things that i love, and you make others happy!… sometimes.”

yuta laughed, “sometimes?” he softly placed your hands back at your sides. “yeah, you’re not wrong.”

“but you make me happy, always.” you finished off.

his eyes lit up like a firework. “really? so does this mean you’ll finally say yes to going out with me and give me a little kiss?”

you snickered and covered your mouth, your cheeks flushed. “nuh uh.”

“aww mannn,” yuta groaned and leaned against the railing, but turned his head to the side after a few seconds and looked at you, giving a tender smile.

your eyes continued to sparkle over the flower beds in front of you, but yuta’s eyes only sparkled at the one flower in front of him.

that’s where he started calling you flower.

“that’s okay!” he leaned back up. “i’ll keep trying.”

and boy did he try. each and every single day yuta tried as he brought you little treats from the campus cafe, or helped carry your textbooks to wherever you went, brought you neatly packaged flowers or sometimes would even pull his car over when he saw pretty ones on the side of the road, getting off and running to pluck them, handing them to you through the window with a goofy grin.

everything was bliss between you two, and your world only got brighter as you hung out with him.

but for yuta, his world got a little complicated.

his former hookups only grew sour once they found out about you, the girl yuta seemed to spend every waking hour with, completely blind sighted to the fact as they thought he would’ve dumped you months ago already.

and his frat brothers were just bothered. yuta wasn’t managing the frat like he used to before, like he was supposed to as their leader, neglecting the collective reputation they all had with him not sweet talking the entire female student body, or their parties not running every single night anymore— and even when they did run, yuta wasn’t ever even there to begin with, he was with you, something they quickly realized.

“you have to cut it out man,” one of them said. “this frat is turning into a shit hole because you keep spending your time with that girl—“ he stopped. “who the fuck even is she? i mean if it was layla fine everybody knows layla but—”

“who she is is none of your fucking business?” yuta snapped. “and just because i’m not sending girls for you to jerk your dick with doesn’t mean this frat is turning into a ‘shit hole.’”

some of the boys snickered.

“you wanna run the maintenance on the house? you wanna call up the fucking board and ask for the ten thousand fucking permits we have to have for our parties every year? you think you can run that?”

“no—”

“then be my fucking guest.”

“okay fine, i’m sorry man.” he sighed. “we haven’t had a party in a week though, we have to throw one tomorrow and you have to be there. then ill call it even.”

yuta snorted. call it even? whatever.

he begrudgingly agreed, not wanting to be there whatsoever but softening up to the fact that maybe he was neglecting his frat a little too much.

so when he called you up that day for your nightly phone calls, yuta asked for your attendance.

“i know— i know parties aren’t really your thing…” he pursed his lips, staring up at the ceiling as he had you on speaker. “but i’d feel a lot better if you were there… and you won’t be alone! you’ll be with me the whole time so—”

yuta sighed. “…i have been neglecting the frat a little bit, and they’re pissed at me.”

you gasped softly, “they are?”

“yeah but i don’t give a fuck.”

you both giggled.

“but i do want to make them somewhat happy so that’s why i gotta throw this party… can you come? it’s okay if not flower don’t worry—”

“of course i can go yuta!” you spoke cutely over the speaker. “as long as you give me a sunny d i’ll be okay.”

he laughed.

“i feel like…” you struggled. “them being mad and what’s happening with your frat is partially my fault yuta… i’m sorry.”

your voice was so worrisome, you feeling tremendous guilt on the other line as you bit your lip.

“what?” his eyes narrowed. “no flower, absolutely not. why would you think that?”

“because i keep asking you to hang out with me,” you spoke softly. “and i feel like im hogging you from your frat boy duties.”

yuta chuckled and shook his head. “i would ten times rather spend time with you than hang out with these fucking dummies.” he sat up on his bed. “i love it when you ask for me flower. keep doing it please. whatever that’s happening with my frat strictly has to do with me okay? not you.”

you grinned on the other end, your heart giddy. “okay.”

so the night of the party, you showed up to his frat looking absolutely gorgeous in your tight little dress, his hands instantly clamming up and his throat closing at the scent of your strawberry perfume and lovely face alone.

yuta tried so hard to keep his eyes respectful and not drift down to your ass or the way your perfect tits squeezed out from the top, almost physically slapping himself when he accidentally touched you way lower than he should have when guiding you through the crowd.

everywhere he went people were greeting him or passing him shots, him quickly acknowledging everybody and downing whatever they gave him as you shyly and timidly stuck to his body (which he loved).

yuta taught you how to play beer pong that night and cheered like an absolute fucking idiot whenever you would make it in, drinking the cups for you instead as he knew you weren’t the biggest fan of alcohol, which made you a little weak in the knees that he catered to you so much.

the party was actually way more fun than the both of you expected, especially for yuta, because he proudly had you on his arm as you walked throughout the house, you trying your absolute hardest to ignore the stares you got from different girls and not uttering a single word about it to yuta, not wanting to burden him and take his focus away from rejuvenating the frat and his brothers.

all was bliss, until it wasn’t.

“is this her? the girl you’re always talking to?” one of his frat brothers stumbled through the crowd, the one that argued with him the day before, drunk off of his freaking mind as his eyes raked over your body like nothing.

yuta instantly picked up on that and stiffened, “yeah.”

he tried his best to swallow his annoyance and be civil as he gently placed a hand on your back and softly ushered you forward, you shy and clinging onto his shirt. “this is y/n.”

“h—hi.”

“i see why you abandoned us for a nerd man!” he slurred. “she’s fucking hot. never seen tits look so good—”

your breath hitched.

“the fuck you just say?” yuta tugged you behind him. “the hell is wrong with you man? don’t talk about her like that.”

you noticed several eyes looking over.

“what!” he hiccuped dumbly. “they do! why are you getting pissed—”

“i don’t give a shit!” yuta snapped. “don’t talk about her like that!”

he scoffed, swaying a little. “what, like you actually care about her anyways—”

“are you fucking serious?” yuta stepped forward and you tugged him back, your eyes frantic as they scanned over the crowd forming and back to him.

“no yuta, he’s drunk it’s okay—”

“she’s just another one for your body count, once you fuck her you’re gonna leave—”

yuta slipped from your grasp and lunged at him, tackling him and towering over him on the ground as he fisted his shirt and jerked him up, yuta landing punch after punch to his face as the crowd yelled, cheered and recorded around you.

“yuta please!” you tried to get his attention, your chest heaving in a panic as you watched the other guy land a hit on yuta, not wanting him to get hurt over you at all whatsoever.

yuta dodged another coming hit and beat the shit out of him, grueling him down to a mere pulp as everything around him went completely white and fuzzy, his body stinging with absolute rage.

he was furious.

finally, several other frat brothers broke through the crowd and pulled yuta off of him.

“that’s enough that’s enough!”

“guys stop!”

quickly, you grabbed yuta’s hand once they put him aside and tugged him away from the crowd, speed walking to the front door.

“you’re out of the fucking frat you piece of shit!” yuta practically roared behind him as you pulled him. “you’re out!”

your trembling fingers hurriedly turned the knob and opened the door, dragging him out down the steps to the porch and across the grass, not saying a single word to him yet as he kept breathing out desperate apologies to you with every step.

once you both were a safe distance away from the house and just a tiny bit down the street, you let go of his hand and turned to him.

“—fuck im sorry i’m sorry im so sorry—” yuta shoved the base of his palms into his eyes as he threw his head back, “i just fucked everything up between us i—”

yuta knew you would never want to be with a guy like him, especially one that couldn’t keep his shit together and resorted to violence the way he did minutes ago, right in front of you. a guy like that didn’t deserve you. you deserved way way fucking more. and as he tore his palms away from his face, eyes looking up at the night sky, he knew he completely messed up his chances with you for good.

his head snapped down to look at you, his eyebrows pinched and eyes contorted in absolute guilt and agony as he placed his bloody knuckled hands on your little cheeks.

“i’m so fucking sorry he said those things to you like that that was not okay flower,” he emphasized. “and i’m so sorry i beat him when you told me not to i— i just couldn’t stand there when he was talking to you like that man—”

he dropped his hands and cursed, his arms going up as he covered his eyes again.

“yuta it’s okay—”

“no,” he shook his head and looked at you. “no it’s not okay. you deserve way more than this and no matter how fucking hard i try to do better, the life i built before you just doesn’t let me.”

his eyes got so sad, saying words he didn’t want to say, but knew he had to. “you shouldn’t be around a guy like me flower, you really shouldn’t. fuck— i don’t want you around a guy like me. you’re too precious for that. i’m gonna end up screwing you over like i always do—”

“yuta stop.” you raised your voice a little, your tone one he’d never ever heard come out of your mouth, firm and serious in contrast to the sweetness you always gave him.

he shut right up.

“come sit down with me on the curb,” you pulled his arm. “please.”

he followed you and sat down next to you on the side walk with his head down, you taking in how yuta only had one little cut next to his eyebrow, pride funnily bubbling up in your chest as you realized how good he actually fought.

he did that. for you. he made a scene out of himself and protected your name.. for you. although you hated that he got into a fight, you knew he was trying so so hard for you, going above and beyond for a year now trying to fix himself to be a better man deserving of you, and you were immensely touched, no one having put even close to that amount of effort like he was in your life.

“you don’t get to decide what i deserve yuta.”

his eyes shot in your direction “but as a friend i’m telling you—”

you huffed as you grabbed his cheeks and kissed him.

you kissed him.

yuta’s eyes were blown astronomically wide as you did, his heart no longer beating as he could’ve sworn he was dead right now, not believing that you were actually kissing him.

him.

you pulled apart from his lips with a smack, your hands still on his red cheeks. “a guy who’s willing to literally change himself without me having to ask, trying to be better for me everyday without fault for literally a year, doing everything he can to make me happy? definitely deserves me yuta. you deserve me.”

you pecked his forehead softly and pulled back again, his body going numb when you did. “so what if you beat the shit out of him? i would do it too if someone was talking to you like that i don’t care. i’d lose but i’d do it,” you giggled. “i didn’t like the fight because i don’t want you getting hurt, ever, period. but you literally scrapped him up like it was nothing, so i don’t have anything to worry about.”

he shook his head and playfully rolled his eyes. “no flower that’s the thing you’re too sweet to me, i don’t want you justifying—”

“yuta be quiet!” you whispered harshly, giving him a silly grin. “you talk too much.”

you reached up and very very gently pecked the little cut on the side of his eyebrow, feeling a cool calming waterfall wash over his body at the feeling of your soft lips finally on him, something he’s wished upon every star for.

“you’re so good to me yuta, truly you are. and i’m sorry it’s taken me so long to say this because i’m always nervous but—” you smiled endearingly. “i do want to go out with you, and i do want to give you little kisses. all of the time.”

yuta slowly let his forehead fall against yours, feeling like he was in a dream as the only emotion he felt at the moment was bliss. pure honeyed bliss as he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you to his chest, his face burying in your silky hair.

his hard work had finally paid off, and he had every fucking intention of keeping up that work until the day he dies, wanting you, his shy and timid precious little flower forever in his life— you changing him for the better so much that he finally feels like he’s properly healthy, in more ways than one.

“we’re going out tomorrow,” he mumbled into your hair. “bright and early. i’m gonna take you to get breakfast, and then we’re gonna go to that aquarium you’ve been wanting to go to for weeks now, and then i’m gonna buy you a souvenir, and then i’m gonna take you to get your nails done—”

“yu!” you pulled back and giggled happily. “you don’t have to buy me anything my goodness. just you is enough.”

he bit his lip, smiling like a fucking idiot.

“really?”

“really.”

“well too fucking bad i’m gonna do it anyways.”

he pulled you back in as you laughed and buried his face back into your hair, not wanting to break away at all, feeling like the richest douchebag in the world as he finally had you as his.

you scooted your face up then and nudged him, him pulling a part in response as you proceeded to plant another sugary kiss to his lips, yours lingering as they melted into a perfect mold against his mouth, yuta’s heart absolutely soaring, your red invisible strings close together at last.

he finally had you.

finally.

and he was never letting you go.

[youryanderedaddy]

When Life Gives Lemons

tw: female reader, technically non con because of stealthing, baby trapping, breeding, obsessive behavior, reader being a bit rude

You couldn’t believe the irony of your life. You were about to break up with your immature boyfriend, and he still managed to be grossly late to the date, unconsciously digging his own grave deeper. You had put on your best white shirt and the tightest skirt you owned, and you even went through the trouble of booking the latest hipster coffee shop close to the centre. He had been fifteen minutes late, to be exact, and when you brought it up, he simply shrugged a long sleazy smile, dragging his skeleton - shaped metal rings against the edge of the table.

“All in due time, princess.” He took a sip off his coffee - a single shot of espresso with no creamer, as always. “All in due time.” He repeated, reaching in his pocket for a pack of off - brand cigarettes. He really couldn’t afford any of the fancy ones. Once the cigarette was lit, he slowly brought it to his lips and inhaled deeply, letting his head relax against the chair. His thick neck tightened as he swallowed the deadly smoke, and even the sun seemed to avoid his messy dark locks, instead keeping the man in the shadows.

“What does that even mean?” You threw your hands around helplessly, sinking into your chair. “Don’t you want to know?” Axel teased, taking another puff. Although his expression was one of mild amusement, his sharp blue eyes were carefully following your every movement - wondering what will tip you off the most. “You know, you’re so fuckin’ hot when you’re mad, mami.” He smiled in a playful boyish way that once would have made you melt, but now only served as a reminder of his unserious nature.

“Stop playing around. I need to discuss something imp–”

“Shhh, don’t talk, babygirl. I need to show you something.” Axel interrupted, gripping the big guitar closer to his lap. ”I wrote you a song.” His thin fingers grazed the delicate transparent strings, forcing a catchy, although not fully polished melody out of the old thing. He took a deep breath, wetting his lips so the lyrics would come out softer. 

My girl knows how to set me

on flames she goes through 

the motions of the wind she

is a fireball, a fireball, on fire

“What the fuck, Axy.” You pounded your fists at the table, shaking the glasses and spilling coffee all over the wooden surface. You could feel everyone’s judging stare across your back, all of the other patrons were jeering and whispering about the two of you, and your cheeks were heating up by the moment. “I’ve told you countless times to stop writing those shitty songs. They don’t even rhyme, for fuck sake.” You whined, suddenly overwhelmed by helplessness. He was never going to change, was he? “This is exactly why I want to break up.”

The music stopped entirely. His dark sunglasses ended on the ground. 

“You wanna break up?” The musician repeated slowly, suddenly appearing awfully composed - so composed it made you look crazy. After that question he remained silent for a very long time, taking long drags off his cigarette while studying your face for any sign of your true feelings bleeding out. “Real’ funny, babe, real’ fun joke.” He forced a crooked smile, reaching in to squeeze your hand all the way through the table. “Now tell me, what’s wrong with the song? I stayed real’ late to compose it just for our date today.” He winked, which only made you feel worse.

“I am being serious, Axel. Let go of me.” Your tone turned icy and your ex boyfriend quickly released you, eyes filling with raw fear. “Wait, baby, we can talk about–”

“There is nothing to talk about. You’re such a child!” You blurted out, too frustrated to spare energy on fluttery words and sweet apologies. “I want to do my masters soon. You know I’m applying to Metwyorth - I can’t be seen hanging around with a high school dropout who does Saturday gigs for a living.” You continued, pursing your lips together. You knew you were being harsh, cruel even, but this was the only way to push him away. The musician could be awfully clingy, so you needed to be firm.

“A highschool dropout who made you scream your brains out.” Axel responded bitterly through clenched teeth, eyes growing dark with anger. You shook your head bashfully, avoiding his fiery gaze. “Sure, we had our fun,” You gestured vaguely at nothing in particular, trying to hide the shame blossoming on your sides. “But it’s time to wake up. I mean, be realistic. We live in different worlds.” You began to collect your things quickly, standing up to leave.

“Y/N!” He called out to you, causing you to turn back just for a second - you owed him that much for all the good memories you knew you both would have trouble forgetting. “You’re making a mistake. Please, think it through.” The man took a hold of your hand, caressing your fingers gently. “I know I can’t offer you much right now, but I really love you!” His eyes dilated, honest and clear like an untouched sea on a quiet day. 

“Goodbye, Axel.”

***

You meet him sooner that you’d like.

Two weeks later you’re drunk off your mind, dancing the night away with some of your girlfriends when you catch a pair of familiar eyes fluttering across your body from the other side of the room. It makes you feel hot all over - despite what you said back then, you felt each agonising moment of the break up. Even if the logical part of your brain knows you have no future with such a man, your body needs him, craves him. 

Axel keeps staring at you intensely, burning holes through your neck, your thighs, your lips. His yearning gaze lingers, completely miserable, and yet as lustful as the night he first wrapped his arms around you and claimed you as his. He can still feel your nails scratching his back red and bloody, sending shivers down his spine and setting fire in his loins. This staring game of yours lasts for approximately thirty minutes before he gives in and comes over to your table. He doesn’t say anything - doesn’t look at you or greet your friends, doesn’t even pretend to have any reason to approach you. He simply grabs you, swallows an airy pant, and drags you inside the bathroom.

You’re all over each other in no time. His hands are tangled in your hair and your nails are sinking into his warm flesh once again. You can’t breathe for a second, suffocated by a deep, longing kiss that he only spares you of once your lips start to turn blue. He licks your neck and bites at any spot vulnerable enough to steal a gasp out of you - and you return it by sucking on his collarbone until a purple hickey adorns his skin. You swiftly unzip his loose pants and start taking your dress off, but as you try to spread your legs, he turns you around facing the wall. 

“Fuck, I wanna do you from the back, princess.” Axel mumbles, one strong hand gripping your throat as the other gropes your breasts freely. You nod weakly, too turned on to comprehend any of the words he’s saying. “Ngh, wanna be able to pull your hair n’ shit.” His fist wraps around your ponytail, pulling slightly so you expose your neck to his teeth. You can already feel his throbbing manhood prob at your thighs, slowly moving towards your entrance. “Y-you have a condom on, right?” You manage to whimper through the little electric bursts of pleasure running through your whole body as he plays you like an instrument. He mumbles something like “yeah”, and in this state of mind that’s enough for you.

He starts sinking into your heat slowly, letting you adjust to his hard length inch by inch, then once you’ve settled, practically begging him to just give it to you, he begins thrusting painfully slow - really making you feel it going in and out, in and out in a perfect rhythm. Each time his cock brushes against your most sensitive spot, you’re reduced to a slick, desperate mess, but just as your thighs begin to go numb and you slip down, Axel catches both of your wrists and pins them to the wall, keeping you in place. You’re so wet you can hear the slap of skin on skin every time your gummy walls hug his member, but you’re too far gone to care about the nasty sound.

“F-fuck, baby, you’d be so fucking hot as a mother. Have you ever thought about it?” Your ex whispers against you, picking up the pace. You shake your head - kids have never been your priority, since you’re still so young and your education would always come first. “I thought about it. A lot, ‘n fact, when we were separated.” His heartbeat fastens. “Ugh, you’re still so tight, god…” His free hand dances at your hips, ogling and caressing any curve it can find. “When you dumped me, I was completely lost, ya know? Didn’t sober up for three days. But then I dreamt that I knocked you up accidentally. S-shit, did you just tighten up?”

Your whole body stiffens at his words. Your stomach fills with unexplainable dread - this whole conversation is turning you off, but somehow your body seems to have a mind of its own. 

“Q-quit it with the small talk, asshole.” You groan, pushing back so you’d get more friction between your legs. “Just fuck me, okay? I don’t need to hear your weird fantasies.” You hear yourself saying confidently despite the provocative position you’re currently stuck in - you can’t even see his face, but you know he’s probably laughing at your bossy comment. But instead he keeps blabbering on as if you’re not even there. “You were so beautiful, princess. So big and–” He bites his lower lip. “So fucking needy for me - just like now. You were dripping everywhere. You were so excited for our little baby.” He grunted hoarsely, reaching in to stroke your clit - and despite your best efforts, you let out a soft moan. 

“And we were a family - just you, n-ngh, me and the little guy.” Axel utters through clenched teeth, trying to hold out for as long as possible - savouring you in tiny little bites. “No stupid degrees or anythin’, just us two against the world.” He slows down further, now barely moving inside of you. It’s driving you crazy with anticipation - both his story and the way he’s fucking you. “And it made me think, we could really have all that - if it wasn’t for your stupid pride. All I need to do is knock you up. Just think about it.” The man grips your hips roughly, impaling you on his thickness. 

“Your tits will swell, your thighs will thicken; you’ll be so tired you’ll have to lay down all the time. You won’t even be able to touch yourself because of your belly.” He smiles at you gently, although you can’t see it. At this point you’re already so close to climax you can’t break through the cotton cloud haze that’s taken over your mind to truly focus. This is one of the reasons you had to break up with the musician - he could get you cockdrunk with a simple touch, and that vulnerability felt terrifying.

“And I will take care of you through every-” He kisses your cheek. “single–” He kisses you again. “step of the way.” He inhales deeply, thrusting in one final time before he spills inside you. “I love you, baby. I really can’t let you go.”

[backwzzds]

can we talk about how konig would be someone who’s quiet when he gets jealous…then when y’all get home he js absolutely goes HAMMMM….

the way i got so excited to write this…it’s actually way longer than i intended but idgaf! part 2 soon 😏

NO BC YOU LITERALLY WOULDNT GET HOW HE’D BE SO QUIET LIKE ???

“papa, i don’t understand what i did wrong,” you’d frown at your man with an annoyed whine. könig, who was a whooping 6’10 would only give you a heavy grunt in response. you’d be on the way back to his car from the mall, dozens of your victoria’s secret and H&M bags held in his visibly large hand. the moment könig reached before you (with help of his tree-like long legs anyway), he opened the door for you, the balaclava on his face making his features ten times harder.

no matter how mad the big bear was at you—or more so, what you happened to get yourself involved in—he’d never disrespect you. anything other than sexually, at least. stepping on the custom made step for your smaller figure, you slide into the huge seat of his completely blacked out bmw suv, allowing him to shut the door behind you. you nearly jump at the visible shake of the car beneath your bottom.

you play with your curls as könig carefully sets your bags on the floor behind your seat. because his was set all the way back to accommodate for his long legs, your seat had the better amount of space for your things. when könig finally got back in the car, he immediately started it, causing the monsterous growl of his deleted muffler to come alive.

and he wouldn’t even break a sweat at you !!! you’re over here going over all your actions for the day, step by step, and all könig could think through his mind was what positions he was gonna force you in when you two got back home.

the sound of könig’s car matched the energy that was coursing through his veins. he know you didn’t do anything wrong; not intentionally at least. but the selfish ass part of him wanted nothing more than for your pretty little ass to sit in the passenger’s seat, overthinking on what the fuck you possibly could have done to rile him up this much.

the ride home is everlastingly silent as the small of your voice breaks the thick tension, “baby,” you don’t know how to further articulate your words. “i know you’re mad at me. i wanna fix it, but i can’t it you won’t talk to me. and you’ve been dead ass silent since we been in the mall.”

könig keeps his cool, though. he knew his silence was practically eating at you alive, shaming you with guilt for something you didn’t even intentionally mean to do. but with the way your pretty body sits in the black skims dress you’re in, accompanied by your black and white dunks—his eyes could practically frame your nipples right through the see through fabric, and he was sure that fucking doorman at victoria’s secret could have as well.

you keep talking. “was it the dude at VS? i swear, i made it very known that you were my man and—“ your words are endless blabber to him as the disgusting and pervasive thoughts cloud könig’s mind.

he looks so sexy in his balaclava, protecting his face from the harsh upcoming winter temperatures. he’s sported in an all black outfit, helplessly matching yours. anyone who saw you two together would automatically know that was your man. i mean duh, he walks around with his hand on your ass protectively 99% of the time.

when you get the sense that the brute isn’t listening to a fucking word you’re saying, you let out a frustrated sigh and turn your body away from him. but the sudden placement of a large hand on your knee takes you by surprise as you eye the man who’s ice blue eyes refuse to falter from the darkening road before you.

the moment könig pulls up in the driveway of your shared home, you can’t help but twiddle with the polish on your acrylics. anxiousness is bouncing off you, and könig could tell. you turn your head and open your mouth to speak, only to be cut off for the first time that night.

“go inside.” könig’s voice is very low, but you don’t miss the command in it. there’s no emotion behind the dark eyes of his balaclava. usually you could decipher exactly what and how he was feeling, but in the moment—

“kö—“ your boyfriend’s snow blue eyes harden at your talk back. with softer features, you whisper, “will you be inside?”

“soon. need to make a call first,” you watch him pull out a fresh cigar pack. “be ready for me when i get in.” you open your mouth to talk back again, but wire it shut when könig lovingly grabs your face. leaning in so the pink of his lips ghost over your full brown ones, he whispers, “now, mama. i won’t ask again. can you listen to that one thing for me?”

with a small gulp, you give him pretty doe eyes, feeling between your legs tingle at his masculinity radiating onto you. in the most confident voice you could muster up, you nod your pretty head at him. “yes daddy.”

könig gives you a nod of approval and runs his hand along the curve of your ass. “good girl. go on, liebling.”

you exit the huge car, already getting idea of what was to come when könig came back inside. with a heavy heart, you head upstairs to your room and slowly begin undressing, hoping that the slower you went, the more your punishment would be delayed.

your hopes were proven to be false the minute you were completely naked and turned around to see könig leaning against the threshold of the door, silently watching you.

you jump in fear at the sudden sight in front of you, but feel your heart beat calm down when könig strolled over to you. naturally, your head tilted backward as a way to get a full view of his face. his balaclava remained on, so you knew he was still upset about the events from earlier.

könig takes his large hand and rests it on your cheek, giving it a comforting rub. “you know i love you and respect you more than anything on this earth, right?” the brown of your skin instantly heat up at his words as you slowly nod your head at his sudden expression, unsure of where he was going with his words. könig’s lips can’t help but lightly turn upward into a small smile. you had no idea what was gonna come.

“good. because for today, libeling, i’m gonna fuck you like you mean absolutely nothing to me.”

[6emo6zombie6]

RDR2 relationship/sexual headcanons -- F!reader

(Arthur, John, Dutch)

I've been seeing these a lot, and it would be fun to share my own. So, here you go! Warning for NSFW stuff though ;) I might make more of these in the future but I'm out of ideas for other characters at the moment.

__________________________________________________________

Arthur:

Absolute sweetheart, will do anything for you.

Can’t stand to see you crying. Usually, he’s reserved, but around you, he’ll coo softly and hold you in his arms.

“Shh… hey, I’m here. You’re safe.”

Always shares his food when he’s around you. And if there is no food, he’ll share his cigarettes.

He won’t admit it but loves it when you pick flowers for him. Usually, he keeps them in an empty whiskey bottle beside his bed.

Will ask you to help him pomade his hair, though you both know it’s because he likes getting scalp massages.

He’ll somehow always find a way to escort you.

“I’ll walk with you to your horse” “Need me to come with you?” “You sure you’re okay goin’ on your own?”

Not a fan of holding hands, though he’ll have his arm over your shoulders or around your waist most of the time.

Looooovessss hugging you from the back.  

Not opposed to you grabbing his ass once in a while.

Loves forehead kisses, whether it is receiving or giving them.

~~~~~

Not rough in bed—rather thorough. He won’t break the bed or have it slamming against the wall, but he spends a while preparing you. Foreplay lasts an hour minimum until he decides you can take every inch of him.

Will overstimulate himself if it means you’ll cum.

Not loud, but he takes pride in hearing you moan his name.

If he doesn’t have the energy to have full-blown sex, he’ll sit you on his lap and finger you until you’re trembling.

Not the biggest fan of receiving head, since it makes talking practically impossible for you, and he hates silent sex.

Enjoys handjobs while making out, though usually he’ll only accept one if he’s drunk.

Constant compliments.

Lap sex??? To Arthur, there is nothing better than holding you close while you bounce on his cock.

John:

Not all too touchy, but he’ll stare at you like you’re an angel 24/7.

Likes it when you hug his side, especially if you're shorter than him so he can tuck you under his arm.

Will randomly polish your shoes or your saddle.

Never forgets to give you a kiss when he leaves camp.

Usually confused when you’re upset or angry, but he’ll try his best to talk you through it.

Very protective of you, especially around other men. He's constantly worried that you might get hurt.

Stubborn as a bull, though he means well. The two of you always seem to be making up for arguments.

Always the big spoon.

Never skips out on a night of drinking with you.

Lets you sit on his lap, though usually only when he’s tipsy.

~~~~~~

Obsessed with hearing you plead. He’ll make you beg for absolutely anything.

If you’ve misbehaved in any way, he’ll punish you with abstinence.

On the other hand, he praises you for everything you do right.

“Yeah, that’s it, good girl.” “atta girl…” “You’re doing so well.”

Always on top. Probably because his ego is a little fragile.

Likes to switch between quick sex and passionate sex every once in a while. One day he’ll be ramming into you for twenty minutes, while the other he’ll spend the same time just getting you undressed.

Dacryphiliac—he loves watching you cry for all the right reasons.

“You look so pretty like that, sweetheart.” “Look at you, such a mess for me.”

Only loud when you are.

Very courageous in bed, but he gets shy the next morning when the majority of the gang starts teasing him for the marks on his neck or the foul noises they heard coming from his tent.

Dutch:

(This one is for the girls with daddy issues, bear with me.)

Almost exclusively calls you pet names, never your actual name.

Stuff like “Sweetheart”, “sugar”, “My girl”,,, etc.

He’ll make sure everyone knows you’re his, usually introducing you as his girlfriend right away.

Likes picking out your clothes for you.

Tells you about the books he reads whenever he can.

The absolute master at calming you down. Whenever he sees that you’re upset, he’ll take you to his tent and sit you on his lap, then he’ll calmly talk things over with you until you’re calm again.

Yeah, loves having you on his lap.

Enjoys braiding your hair or pinning it into a bun.

Loves hugging you from behind when you’re doing your chores or talking with other gang members.

Will bathe you whenever he gets the chance.

~~~~~~

Rarely ever takes his clothes off, but forces you to be completely naked all the time. It adds an extra layer to the power dynamic that the two of you have In bed.

Bends you over his lap and spanks you whenever he feels you pay too little attention to him.

Also loves fingering you on his lap, though it’s more to tease than to make you cum.

Will go absolutely crazy if you sit on his lap and grin your ass into his bulge. It doesn’t even matter if anyone’s around because he’ll just excuse himself and drag you into his tent.

He wants everyone to know how good he makes you feel. If you’re not moaning his name or whining under his touch for everyone to hear, he’s not interested.

He expects you to follow every order that he gives you. You’re not getting his touch if you disobey.

You calling him “sir” makes him instantly grow hard.

Always leaving scratches and hickeys on you for other people to notice.

Enjoys lightly choking you when making out, just to show what could happen if you were to misbehave.

[blackmoonoracle]

PICK A CARD - MASCULINE WOUNDS

You can find my brief breakdown of masculine energy in the natal chart here. Tip Jar

PILE 1

tw: sexual trauma

Anger and sex drive, the people in this particular collective may have experienced sexual trauma at any point in time that has developed into an issue with emotional security. In order to heal you need to learn how to develop trust in your perception, self expression, decision making, and any chronic pain or issues need to be given more thought and care. Not accepting the bare minimum, not pushing yourself for the sake of others, not letting others take your power.

Taking your power back for the sake of yourself.

This is an energy of being conscious of chronic issues, extreme trauma, healing from extreme abuse and allowing yourself to let go of the cycle of releasing your power in order to survive. You are not helpless, you are not incapable, you are not weak, you are not bad, you are not a waste of space, energy, words, time, effort, or love. You are a worthy being, you have earned your place, your reputation, your successes, and your desired future. You have suffered a lot, in some way shape or form.

This could've been mental or sexual anguish in pre teen years.

Feeling almost disgusting or gross for existing as a sexual being. Disdain for sex, astonishment I heard as well? I feel like there is potential religious trauma regarding sex in this pile.

There may also be a sense of pain or confusion about life in general, perhaps you are someone who struggles with feeling destined for failure. Like part of you still doesn't believe that you're not destined to suffer, you've learned so much and I feel like a lot of you are like older gen z or late teens.

It feels like you've always felt very judged, and very misinterpreted. Like others could've been offended by your mere presence. Something about the way you thought, or spoke, or expressed yourself was or is very upsetting for people. You're not afraid to talk about the truth? Is the exact way I'm hearing it be described.

You have very powerful voice, and your words pack a punch in more than one way.

Your words project veryyy quickly into your reality, and I heard "reaffirming reality" as well, treating your brain like a science project I heard? LMAO it's giving aquarius 😭

So do mirror affirmations, some of you could have an affinity towards mirror magick. That being said handle that carefully, and know to be careful in approaching that. Make sure you're researching and covering your bases. I heard Aphrodite, so Aphrodite could be trying to work with someone. I also heard keep your peace, so chill out, don't engage with anyone. You're in the process of taking back your power so sometimes people act up. LITERALLY not a you problem, and if they make it a you problem stand your goddamn ground and show that person, no matter who they are, what role they play in your life, that you are under no circumstances going to continue to take their shit. The universe is testing you, lock tf in and don't worry about anyone else. Worry about YOU and YOUR DREAMS, and YOUR DESIRES. Plant the seeds that truly matter to YOU, you won't know if it works until you try it. Don't be afraid to do what you're passionate about. Don't be afraid to be yourself, your authenticity really resonates with others in some way shape or form. It's how you connect with people, you show them that being yourself is a lot less painful that you'd think.

This could be black Moon Lilith in cancer and Scorpio or 4th and 8th house Chiron energy. you could be a cancer rising, some of you could have a leo descendant? I heard polish and German as well for some others, someone could be polish another person could be German. If this pile resonated and you'd like to purchase a personal reading on this topic you can purchase one for just 55$ or send over a tip on Venmo or Kofi if the message resonated and helped in some way! https://ko-fi.com/blackmoonoracle @blackmoonoracle is my Venmo!

PILE 2

Self Worth, and Value/Honorary Systems This collective has very powerful values. This could be Taurean, or Aquarian energy, possibly also Aries. You could be mars dominant or have a prominent mars in your natal chart. Your mars may also be in the 11th, or 2nd house! Or you could have Uranus in the 2nd house or Venus in the 11th house. Suffice to say this could also be mars in Taurus, or Aquarius as well. 2nd house Venus, or 11th house aquarius. There's something with individualism in this pile as well. A lot of deeply practical energy, possibly very venusian as well. Could have Venus in pisces, or Venus-neptune interactions in the natal chart. You could have Venus in Taurus, or you could have Venus in aries I'm hearing. You are going on a deep journey of transforming your masculine will. Understanding you are worthy of making your creations, that what you create is valuable and is of quality. You are worthy of abundance, you are worthy of success. I feel like there could've been a sense of detachment since a very young age for this pile. It feels like affection could've always been a touchy subject. I'm also seeing a connection to religion here, especially with Venus being in Virgo. Virgo Venus has always reminded me of catholicism due to the very intricate and detail oriented nature of Catholic symbolism. As well as the emphasis on purity, which is an aspect of Virgo. Seeing as it is the virgin. This can also look like your love always coming with deep criticism. Perhaps you could've felt like the ways in which you expressed love were not respected. Or you could've felt like there was a feminine presence that seemed to bring you a great sense of regret. It feels like a self criticism wound. It feels like a disconnection from the mind in order to attain purity. Like, this pile could feel that they need to fully embody some aspect of a pure, or virginesque energy in order to be worthy of recognition?

Soooo specific, but hey! if it resonates it resonates. There's a deep wound here in regard to knowing how to accept help. It's like accepting help in your mind makes you feel like you're worthless, or as if you are not contributing enough. It's like you feel the need to contribute the most, so that others know you are serious and worth taking serious. Being undermined, minimized, having your values be overlooked, or being seen as unremarkable could've been something you struggled deeply with. I see a lot of pain dealing with women here. Significant Mother wounds that could've led to these wounds in your masculinity. Perhaps experiencing silencing, being forced to not do, say, act, or be in some way shape or form because it is "unsightly" or "shameful" Being disregarded, possibly some bullying here, feeling like an outsider. Like no one could grasp your values, your morals, who you TRULY are.

Almost feeling like you lack an identity.

finding balance in yourself, learning how to accept that you are worthy of being helped. That being helped does not make you unworthy, that being helped is something that is okay, that accepting care, and nurturing, and love is a good thing. starving yourself of intimacy in hopes that by taking the lashings of yourself, and others, while remaining in this "pure" state of being will finally make you worthy of being seen. vision is a general thing here. You may feel like your vision doesn't come to light, or that others don't understand your vision. It's unique, it's you, it's not what everyone else might expect of you. You're groundbreaking, no one could ever be you, learning how to be in love with your individuality. Accepting what makes you weird, and accepting yourself in spite of the way others feel. Knowing that accepting yourself is the deepest form of self connection and that you deserve to feel loved and supported.

Accepting that the embodiment of authenticity may cause issues in connections with people who cannot accept themselves or live in their own truth.

Understanding that you can find purity in your search for your authentic self, authentic truth, and your life purpose. Through embodying yourself in your truth.

If this pile resonated and you'd like to purchase a personal reading on this topic you can purchase one for just 55$ or send over a tip on Venmo or Kofi if the message resonated and helped in some way! https://ko-fi.com/blackmoonoracle @blackmoonoracle is my Venmo!

PILE 3

You may feel stuck in what you were once defined as, as if other people's perceptions of you cut extremely deeply. Your honor is important to you, you like for things to run smoothly. It's important to you to feel secure in who you are and how you express yourself.

I think that, it would be significantly healthy for this pile to learn what makes them feel passionate.

Maybe you feel that you are judged harshly, or in response to a harsh judgmental world you disconnect from yourself. Extreme self consciousness, fear of being "naked" or "vulnerable". Fear of connecting with yourself and others. Fear of relying on or connecting with your community. Feeling like an outcast, impostor syndrome. Lack of self awareness, TOO much self awareness. Untraceable, or difficult to uncover pain. Not understanding the root of things. Beauty that feels skin deep, unrealized depth, and unfulfilled potential. Learning who you are, finding the drive to connect with yourself. Understanding what it means to be you, and that you have to choose yourself at some point in order to lessen suffering. Fear of risk, and Fear of reward, a very loud self critic.

Accepting and acknowledging the mother wound in order to integrate and heal it. Connecting with earth, trusting nature, allowing yourself to think about the things you fear most. Understanding that you cannot hide from certain truths, and that looking the other way doesn't make it go away. There's a song that went viral on TikTok by MGMT called Little Dark Age. I specifically channeled the part that's like "Forgiving who you are, for what you stand to gain, just know that if you hide- it doesn't go away."

Having to understand that you are not responsible for other people, you are not Jesus, why do you bare the cross. Why do you punish yourself for not meeting the "standards" that others are projecting onto you. Are they standards, or are they control tactics, is it manipulation? Are you in alignment with YOUR thoughts, feelings, and desires? Or are you taking on the thoughts, feelings, desires, and expectations of others who want to strip you of your individuality?

Transforming your self concept, looking at what traits, qualities, and authentic self expressions are ACTUALLY in alignment with your highest good & will call in passion, success, happiness, and stability into your life?

Being proud of your intelligence, your ability to perceive, to be know how to think outside of the box.

Having a lot of eccentric natured personality traits and understanding that those are attractive to others. That what makes you different is what makes you likeable, because it's what's uniquely you. Embodying your truest self form, writing affirmations. Creating lists and notes of the hard to integrate topics and realizations in order to make them more tangible.

Excessive mental energy, very deeply tapped into divine creative expressions. Having blessed thoughts, words, and ways. Knowing that you deserve your blessings, and that you are a generator of luck and karma. That you have to ability to move mountains.

Taking it less personal when people throw rocks from glass homes, knowing that you are worthy of better, worthy of more, worthy of success. Feeding your hunger to succeed, knowing that you have the skill, knowledge, creative drive, and capability to connect with others through your art and creativity.

Uncovering what beauty means to you?

I heard Capricorn, Taurus, Virgo, PIsces, cancer, Gemini, mercury, Sagittarius, 9th house, 6th and 5th house.

Sun in aquarius, Moon in Taurus/Capricorn, Moon in gemini, Moon in Aries, Moon-mars aspects.

Mother Gaia

Disconnected from ancestors and spirit team, but willing to learn and receive.

Looking for a new outlook, looking for a way out, remaining steadfast and faithful in what you believe.

Not allowing others to dictate your thoughts, feelings, or reality.

Co-Creating with divine consciousness.

If this pile resonated and you'd like to purchase a personal reading on this topic you can purchase one for just 55$ or send over a tip on Venmo or Kofi if the message resonated and helped in some way! https://ko-fi.com/blackmoonoracle @blackmoonoracle is my Venmo!

[corruptedcaps]

The Bitch Box

Gina tiptoed into her stepmom’s walk in closet, heart racing. Her stepmom, Veronica, was everything Gina wasn’t. Gorgeous, confident, and ruthlessly cruel. Veronica had made Gina’s life miserable since she’d moved in, always quick with a sharp comment about her appearance or a snide remark about her lack of friends.

Gina wasn’t supposed to be in here, but she was looking for something, anything to convince her dad to leave the bitch.

As she pushed aside the rows of designer clothes, something caught her eye. It was a black box with a black tag hanging from it that read ‘Regina’. She knew instantly it was from Veronica, only she used her full name. A name she abhorred hearing, even reading it made her shiver in disgust.

Gina worried that Veronica knew that she would be snooping around and left the box as some sort of message but then again her birthday was coming up soon. Veronica had never been the gift giving type but Gina had to know what was in the box. Taking it barely out of the closet it, she lay it on her parents big bed.

As she slowly lifted the lid she prepared herself for the worst. Maybe it would be some diet pills, maybe it would be a coupon for a salon, an insult masked as a gift. However of all the things she expected she was surprised to see a pair of tight black latex pants.

Intrigued, Gina reached out, her fingers just grazing the smooth material when, without warning, the pants sprang to life.

They coiled around her hand, slithering up her arm like a snake. Gina gasped, trying to pull away, but the pants had a mind of their own. They slithered down her torso and wrapped around her legs.

Gina’s heart pounded as the latex pants tightened around her legs, clinging with an unnatural force. Panic surged through her, and she immediately tried to pull them off, her hands frantically grasping at the slick material. But the pants seemed to have a life of their own, resisting her every effort, fusing with her jeans in a way that was both terrifying and mesmerizing.

“No! This isn’t right!” She gasped, yanking harder, but the pants only gripped tighter, inching up her thighs and forcing her hips to curve seductively. Her initial panic began to mingle with something else, an unexpected thrill that sent shivers down her spine. She could feel them reshaping her, every twist and pull of the latex transforming her body into something new, something… sexy.

Each squeeze sent a wave of heat through her body, starting in her legs but quickly spread upwards. It was a tingling sensation that left her skin humming with energy.

Her stomach was next to change as all fat evaporated, giving her a perfectly flat and toned tummy. She had seen girls in her school spend months in the gym to achieve such a look.

She didn’t have time to dwell on it as the day from her stomach moved upwards and merge with her modest boobs. She watched in disbelief as her tits began to swell, becoming fuller, more pronounced. The pants were seemingly moulding her body into something more undeniably alluring, almost predatory.

As the changes continued, Gina’s resistance faltered. “No… I need to stop this…” She whispered, but even as the words left her lips, a part of her wasn’t so sure anymore. The fear was still there, but it was quickly being overtaken by a strange sense of exhilaration.

Her hair, once wild and frizzy, straightened into silky waves that cascaded down her back. She reached up to touch it, marveling at the luxuriously sleek texture. “This… feels... mmmm so fucking amazing.” She murmured, her voice becoming smoother, more seductive. Her hands had moved from trying to rip the pants off to instead roaming them over her new body.

She could see her reflection in the mirror now, the girl staring back at her was almost unrecognizable. She looked wickedly sexy, with a hint of danger in her eyes.

Gina’s fingers brushed against her lips as they plumped up. The sharp, polished nails that had replaced her bitten ones made her smile with a newfound confidence. Thick makeup covered her face and dark eyeliner gave her a look that could kill. The initial urge to fight was waning, replaced by a growing sense of entitlement.

The more the pants changed her, the more she found herself enjoying it. The power, the beauty, the seductive allure, it all felt so right, so intoxicating. The fear and resistance that had gripped her at the start dissolved into a deep, self-assured arrogance.

Gina’s lips curled into a wicked smile. “Why was I fighting this? I feel so fucking hot and amazing.” She purred, her voice filled with satisfaction. She struck a pose, admiring the way the pants clung to her now-perfect form. The transformation was complete, and she had never felt more alive.

Gina couldn’t stop staring at her reflection. She turned slowly, letting her hands glide over her newly transformed body. “Look at me, I’m… perfect.” She gloated, her voice laced with awe. She ran a hand down her chest, feeling the firm curves that the latex had sculpted.

She struck a pose, arching her back slightly, one hand on her hip. “All those girls at school, with their cheap makeup and tacky clothes… they’re nothing compared to me. How pathetic they must seem now, trying so hard and failing so miserably.” She purred, her lips curling into a satisfied smile.

Her eyes gleamed with a dangerous confidence as she stepped closer to the mirror, her gaze sharp and cold. “They’re beneath me, all of them. From now on, I’ll be the one they look up to. The one they envy. The one they fear.” She said, her voice dripping with disdain.

Looking over to the box she spied there was still more in it. With a grin she took out a leather jacket and a pair of expensive Louboutins. Knowing what the pants did, she eagerly held out her arms and the jacket leapt up and snaked up them. She slipped seamlessly into the leather material as it complimented the pants perfectly.

She sat on the bed and held her feet out. The shoes jumped out and snugly fit onto her feet. Standing back up she gazed at her completed form with a self satisfaction she had never experience. It was intoxicating.

Gina smirked, a wicked gleam in her eyes as she struck another pose, reveling in her newfound power. “I’m not just better, I’m superior. And they’ll all learn that soon enough.” She declared, her voice tinged with arrogance.

As Gina admired her transformed reflection, the door creaked open, and Veronica stepped into the room, her eyes gleaming with satisfaction. She took in the sight of Gina, now exuding a wicked allure, and a sly smile spread across her lips.

“Well, look who’s found her birthday present a bit early.” Veronica said, her tone dripping with mock surprise.

Gina turned to face her, a mixture of confusion and curiosity flashing in her now-intense gaze. “Birthday present? You did this?”

Veronica chuckled, sauntering closer. “Of course, darling. I was getting tired of having such a pathetic stepdaughter, someone who couldn’t even stand up for herself, let alone command the attention she deserves. But I knew the bitch box could help.”

“The bitch box?” Gina echoed, a mix of intrigue and wariness in her voice. Veronica stepped over to the bed and picked up the now empty box sitting there and put the lid on.

Veronica’s eyes sparkled with a dark satisfaction. “It fulfills the owner’s darkest desires and gives them what they need to become a true bitch. Inside your box were those stunning latex pants, the leather jacket that’s now molding to your curves, and the heels that give you that perfect strut. Everything you needed to unlock your true potential.” She explained, her voice low and enticing.

Gina glanced down at her outfit, admiring how her new body fit it perfectly. She flexed her fingers, admiring the sharpness of her nails, and felt a rush of power and confidence surge through her.

“So, you planned all of this?” Gina asked, her voice tinged with both awe and a newfound edge.

Veronica nodded, her smile widening. “I knew you had it in you. I knew Regina was inside you waiting to be unleashed. You just needed a little push. Now look at you. You’re everything I wanted in a daughter. Strong, beautiful, and above all, utterly ruthless.”

Gina’s lips curled into a smirk. The resistance she had felt earlier was completely gone, replaced by a thrilling sense of destiny. Hearing her full name no longer filled her with disgust. It filled her with evil pride. Gina was a loser nobody, Regina was everything. She never wanted to go back.

Regina turned fully to face Veronica, a sly smile spreading across her newly enhanced lips. “Thank you, Mommy.” She purred, her voice dripping with the seductive confidence that now defined her. The word "Mommy" rolled off her tongue naturally, with a warmth and affection she’d never felt before. Veronica wasn’t just her stepmother anymore. She was her true mother, the one who had unlocked her potential.

Veronica’s eyes gleamed with satisfaction as she heard the new name, and she reached out to gently cup Regina’s chin. “That’s my girl. You’re everything I wanted you to be. My perfect bitchy daughter.” She said, her voice full of pride.

Regina nodded, her eyes full of eager anticipation. “What next?” She asked, her tone laced with excitement and a newfound hunger for more.

Veronica’s smile widened as she handed over the sleek, black box that had started it all. “Whatever you desire, darling.” She said, her voice a whisper of dark promise.

With a sense of purpose, Regina took the bitch box and carefully opened it, her breath catching as she saw what lay inside. A pair of designer sunglasses, sleek and impossibly chic, resting atop the velvet lining. They weren’t there before but they were the perfect final touch to her transformation.

Regina lifted the sunglasses from the box, admiring their expensive design. They were the perfectly haughty item to finish her spoilt brat look. She slipped them on and felt the world shift through their tinted lenses.

“How do I look mommy?” Regina said as she admired herself in the irritating some more.

Veronica watched her with pride. “You look spectacular, my dear. You’ll always be my little princess but it’s time you claimed your place as Queen at school.”

Regina smirked, the sunglasses perfectly complementing her new look. “Oh, I will, Mommy. I will.”

Without another word Regina strutted out of the room and down the stairs. Veronica walked over to the window and looked at the black sports car wrapped in a red ribbon parked in the driveway. She waited with bated breath for Regina to walk out. The box would always provide for Regina but Veronica still wanted to spoil her new daughter.

THE END

[cvtyvvitch]

✨☁️💧💤✨Pick-A-Card: Who’s Dreaming About You?✨☁️💧💤✨

💐 Pick an image (1, 2, 3, or 4) for a message about who’s been seeing you in dreams, and maybe visiting you in the astral realm. 💐

✨Focus your intention and remain open — if none of the images light up for you, there may not be a message for you in this reading! Alternatively, more than one image might connect with you. As always, trust your intuition and take what resonates, leaving the rest.

Onto the readings!

#1: 🫧 Bubbles 🫧

The person dreaming of you might be a sister or close girl/feminine in your life. I get the image of a girl with tears in her eyes, with the feeling that they wish they could talk to you/are upset about something that has happened between you. There’s an energy of youth and feeling sorry for their action(s), and wishing to make things right but not knowing how. Literally bursting bubbles, tears spilling down cheeks.

If this resonates with you, there’s no specific path for you to take with this person — what you do with this information is up to you. That being said, the advice I’m feeling is for you to deeply consider the situation and if there can be a way forward for you, maybe with a level-headed conversation about boundaries and how to work together. I do get the feeling that the person dreaming of you is trying their best, and if they apologize they really do mean it, even if they still make the same mistakes repeatedly. There’s a sense of emotional dysregulation here or immaturity on their side, which feels hard because they struggle against it. Definitely a specific message for maybe only a few people, but I hope that at least gives some insight!

Keywords: sister, red-faced, tears/snot, roses, skinned knees, tantrum, car/car keys, drinking

PS Feel free to let me know if it resonates with you and if you have any feedback!

#2: 🌿🌞 Sunbeam + Water + Branch 🌞🌿

This is a very dreamy energy (lol), and feels very nostalgic, very different from the first group message. Maybe a school friend or someone from uni. I get the image of them looking down a bit absently, tracing their fingers over an open hardback book with a red cover. This is someone you may have not seen for a little while, or perhaps won’t see for the summer (if you’re in Northern hemisphere). I get the image of stolen glances and them looking at you while you’re with a group of people/friends, and then wishing they could tell you how they feel. It’s possible they’ve been a bit unconscious in their feelings for you in the past, but I feel they’re aware of them now. Curious, maybe pining a bit. I get the image of a 90s boy haircut, like Leonardo DiCaprio in Titanic. Wants to say something but feels like there’s some kind of emotional distance to cross. Unlikely they will say anything about how they feel at this time, or even the next time you see each other if you’re away for a bit. Feeling it out for sure.

Keywords: summer, Coca Cola, red, red nail polish, sea swimming, shy, magazines, bicycles

PS Feel free to let me know if it resonates with you and if you have any feedback!

#3: 🌊 Waves 🌊

Lot more angst in this group. Someone feeling very angry with themselves over how things were left between you if you’re not talking, or how they’ve been unable to communicate well if you are in contact. This has a stronger emotional/spiritual connection than like #2, and feels more like a partner/former partner. There’s a volatility here and the image of someone frustratedly punching into their hand. The anger feels directed at themselves, and there’s the awareness of their own emotional blockage(s). For some of you, they may be trying to come up with ways to approach you or talk about how they feel/what’s going on, but it feels like they’re coming at it from a pretty rigid headspace. Trying to “fix” things and pushing against harder emotions. They don’t feel necessarily toxic or cruel, but maybe create a lot of their own problems through trying to “tough it out” or use their head to mend things instead of allowing themselves to soften and feel things through. I don’t get the feeling either way that you are in contact or not, but in either case they are trying to muscle through their frustration right now which feels hard. I don’t feel any advice for you, beyond that it’s good to remind yourself you can’t do the work for someone. Sometimes you have to let someone struggle through the hard bits on their own time and terms.

Keywords: rock, wrestle(r), tea tree, masculine, hands, thick eyebrows, clenched jaw

PS Feel free to let me know if it resonates with you and if you have any feedback!

#4 🌱🌾Sunny Meadow 🌾🌱

This energy feels very peaceful, and I get that this is either a past life connection you haven’t met yet or you have, but have not been in contact for a long, long time (potentially many years). You could also have met this person recently or briefly, but don’t know them very well yet. There’s a patient energy to it, earthy and contant. Like the way a tree experiences life and seasons, this love for you feels eternal. It’s a semi-conscious tether to you, like regardless of what this person is doing in their day-to-day life, you are on the back burner of their mind. It’s a constant, soul-deep love. I’d go so far to say it’s so deeply rooted that it connects to the cosmic river. So eternal, so ethereal while also completely in Gaia/Earth energy. Hard to put into words but if you resonate with this, you’ll know the feeling I talk about. Like so chilled out and in bliss, completely straddling human time and the eternal present.

Keywords: green, earthy, moss, stone face, wooden idol, old gods, river of stars. eternity.

PS Feel free to let me know if it resonates with you and if you have any feedback!

[azulock]

so I wanna requests the guys as dads, I remember at some point you said you wanted to do something like this and I really wanna see it

Time to rull up my sleeves, cause I did say I was gonna do one of those right? Back when I got annoyed that all I found was girl dad this girl dad that and I got tired of all the typical gendering going on in dad fics.

Ryusei Shidou

Girl dad in the most chaotic way possible. Tiaras coexist with bows and arrows as a princess fights off an invasion. Every doll and plushie has a tattoo made either with a sharpie or from a patch attached with hot glue. Every tea time is a mafia family meeting that always involves an assassination plot. And the barbies live very intense lives that inevitably delve into wrestling like storylines where each one has a gimmick, a long standing feud, and a clear thirst for blood.

Chaos may not be the best thing to keep an organized home, but it's good for mental development. And much like a kid, Shidou also thrives in creative chaos. He isn't the best at practical things, especially the ones involving routine and quiet time, but he has got his uses. Very good at wasting his daughter's energy until she drops straight into a deep sleep. His antics are also good at convincing her to eat pretty much anything. And of course, great at entertaining her so you can take a break.

Oliver Aiku

Boy dad but like he really doesn't care, he'd be giving the same extremely affectionate, and even a bit clingy, treatment to his kid no matter the gender - sugary sweet nicknames included. Probably heard people saying he coddles his son too much, treating him like a princess, but Oliver is good at playing deaf. Tho, that kid gonna have to fight for the right to have his feet touching the ground, cause dad wants to carry his offspring everywhere. Sure to raise a boy as clingy and openly affectionate as him.

Those reflexes honed for football are quite good at catching a kid before an ugly fall. And he's actually good at the general everyday stuff, surprisingly patient too. Takes a genuine interest in the things his son likes, so when the boy shows sudden interest in colorful nail polish, he'll show up to a match with badly painted soft purple nails. Likes sleeping on the floor with his boy, when asked why the floor and not the bed he brings up the old man excuse of "the floor is good for my back".

Reo Mikage

Girl dad and he was ready for a little princess, but what he got was more of a cave dwelling gremlin. He was expecting frilly dresses and tea time but he gets a little girl who likes bugs, playing in the mud and digging things from the ground. It hits him as a surprise but he adapts to that, and as much as he isn't very excited for the cleanup afterward, he is always eager to entertain his girl's odd interests. If buying dinosaur fossils weren't such a legal can of worms he'd buy one just to bury it for her to dig up.

If he wasn't convinced to go to therapy before, now is the moment to convince him. Just gotta say he should do it not to become like his dad and he's gonna be booking the appointment fast. Will be reading child pedagogy books and shit like that to make sure he can be a good and understanding dad. Really just trying to kill his family's trauma conga line at himself - wants his daughter to trust and count on him in the way he never could with his dad.

Michael Kaiser

Boy dad but to the gentlest, sweetest of souls, a little boy who seems to have absolutely nothing in common with his dad, aside from some physical traits. It at the same time shocks and scares him, because the world out there is not kind to sweet people. But while the boy is at home, Kaiser can keep him safe. It does frustrate him a little bit when he tries to get his son into football but the boy is more into art than sports, but he learns to move past that. Truth is, he wanted the boy to mirror his traits a bit more, so this is a humbling experience.

That poor rose tattoo of his does not see a day of peace after his son learned to color. Tho, Kaiser gets used to the shaky new roses drawn on his skin fair enough. And he actually considers getting a full tattoo of just lineart and not colors just to let the boy color in. He's not the most patient so he has a bit of a hard time getting used to the whole parenting thing, but he does try his best. Also, whenever he takes his son out somewhere he makes their clothes match in color scheme.

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[novaursa]

The Dragon's Right (2)

- Summary: It was by grace of the gods that firstborn child of Viserys I and Aemma was born a boy and he lived. And all of the rest, scholars will later say, is by power of something more malevolent in kind.

- Paring: male!reader/Rhaenyra Targaryen

- Note: For more of my works, visit my blog. The list is pinned to the top.

- Rating: Mature 16+

- Word count: 6 000+

- Previous part: 1

- Next part: 3

- Tag(s): @sachaa-ff

The noise of the crowd was a constant, thunderous hum that filled the air as you prepared yourself for the joust. The tourney grounds were alive with color and movement, the banners of noble houses snapping in the wind, the smell of churned earth mixing with the scents of roasted meats and sweet wines. It was a spectacle that King’s Landing had not seen in years, and today, it was all in your honor.

Your squire, a young Tyrell boy with a mop of curly brown hair and a nervous energy about him, was busy readying your horse. The beast was a magnificent stallion, bred from the finest stock in the Reach. His coat was a deep chestnut, almost black, with a mane that shimmered like polished mahogany. Muscles rippled beneath his glossy coat as he pawed at the ground, eager for the upcoming challenge. His eyes, intelligent and bright, reflected the excitement of the day, mirroring your own anticipation.

"Steady, Stormwind," you murmured, running a hand down the stallion’s neck. The horse snorted, tossing its head as if in agreement, and you couldn’t help but smile. Stormwind was not only powerful but also fiercely loyal—a trait you valued deeply in your mount. 

The young Tyrell squire handed you your helmet, his hands trembling slightly as he did so. "Good luck, my prince," he stammered, eyes wide with awe as he looked up at you.

You gave him an encouraging nod, slipping the helmet under your arm for the moment. "Thank you, Ser Trystan," you said, using the title you knew the boy aspired to one day earn. "You’ve done well. Stormwind looks ready for anything."

The boy beamed at the praise, the nervousness in his eyes giving way to a spark of pride. "I’m glad to be of service, my prince."

Before you could respond, a familiar voice called out from behind you. "Nephew!"

You turned to see your uncle, Daemon Targaryen, striding towards you. He was already clad in his own armor, the dark, polished metal reflecting the sun, the Targaryen dragon emblazoned boldly on his chest. His presence, as always, commanded attention—his confident gait, the slight smirk playing on his lips, the gleam in his eyes that spoke of both mischief and a thirst for glory.

"Uncle Daemon," you greeted him with a respectful nod, a smile tugging at your lips. "It’s good to see you."

Daemon clapped you on the shoulder, his grip firm. "Happy nameday, Y/N. The years have treated you well, it seems. I hear you’ve become quite the capable dragonrider in your time away. Even the Dornish trembled at the sight of Silverwing."

You chuckled, shaking your head modestly. "Silverwing did most of the work. I just held on."

Daemon laughed, a rich, genuine sound. "Don’t be so humble, nephew. I’ve heard the stories. You’ve made quite a name for yourself. Today, the court will see for themselves what you’re made of." He paused, his gaze sweeping over you, assessing. "I expect you’ll give them a show they won’t soon forget."

You met his gaze, the challenge in his eyes clear. "I’ll do my best, Uncle. But I’m sure you’ll make your own impression out there."

Daemon’s smirk widened. "That, I can promise. But remember, it’s your nameday. I’m content to let you have the glory today." He gave you a final pat on the shoulder before turning to leave. "Good luck, Y/N. I’ll see you on the field."

With that, Daemon strode off towards his own preparations, leaving you to focus on the task ahead. You turned back to Stormwind, feeling the familiar rush of adrenaline as you mounted the stallion. The weight of your armor settled comfortably on your shoulders, the reins firm in your grasp as you guided the horse towards the starting line.

The cheers of the crowd grew louder as you approached, the anticipation in the air palpable. You could see the royal box from where you sat, your father standing at the forefront, his face lit with pride. Beside him, Rhaenyra and Alicent were already in their seats, their gazes fixed on you. Rhaenyra’s smile was bright, filled with a mixture of pride and affection, while Alicent’s expression held a softer, almost admiring quality. 

You raised your lance in salute, first to your father, then to the rest of the crowd. King Viserys waved back enthusiastically, his voice booming over the cheers. "Ride well, my son! Show them the strength of House Targaryen!"

Your heart swelled with determination at his words. This was your moment, a chance to show the realm that the Targaryens were as strong as ever, and that their future king was more than ready to lead.

As you took your position at the end of the lists, your opponent appeared on the other side—a knight clad in the colors of House Bracken. The red horse gleamed on his shield, his visor down, obscuring his face. He was a formidable opponent, well-known for his strength and skill, but today, you were confident in your abilities. 

The horn sounded, sharp and clear, signaling the start of the tilt. You spurred Stormwind forward, the stallion leaping into action with powerful strides that ate up the ground beneath you. The world seemed to narrow, focusing only on the target ahead—the oncoming knight, his lance lowered, his intent clear.

You felt the familiar rush of the joust, the thunder of hooves, the wind whipping past your ears. Time seemed to slow as you lined up your lance, your aim precise, your focus unwavering. The distance closed rapidly, and just as the two of you met in the center of the field, you leaned into the strike.

Your lance struck true, slamming into your opponent’s shield with a resounding crack. The impact jolted through your arm, but you held firm, watching as the Barcken knight wavered. For a moment, it seemed he might recover, but the force of your blow was too strong. He was thrown from his horse, landing heavily in the dirt, his lance shattering into splinters beside him.

The crowd erupted into cheers, the roar of approval washing over you as you circled back to the starting line, victorious in your first tilt. Stormwind pranced beneath you, his energy undimmed, as if reveling in the glory alongside you.

In the royal box, King Viserys cheered loudly, his face beaming with pride. "That’s my boy!" he shouted, his voice carrying above the din. "Well done, Y/N! Well done!"

Beside him, Rhaenyra’s smile was radiant, her hands clapping enthusiastically as she shared in your triumph. Alicent, too, was applauding, her cheeks flushed with excitement, her eyes shining as she watched you.

Further down the box, Lord Otto Hightower nodded approvingly, his expression calm but his eyes reflecting satisfaction. He leaned slightly towards Viserys, speaking just loud enough to be heard. "The prince has truly grown into his own, Your Grace. He will make a fine king one day."

Viserys nodded, his smile not fading for a moment. "Indeed, Otto. He’s everything I hoped he would be and more."

In another section of the stands, Rhaenys Targaryen and Corlys Velaryon exchanged a glance, their expressions more reserved. Rhaenys, known as the Queen Who Never Was, watched you with a mixture of pride and something more complex��a recognition of the weight of the crown that would one day rest on your head.

"He’s impressive," Corlys commented, his voice low, but with an edge of admiration. "The boy has the makings of a true Targaryen king."

Rhaenys nodded, though her eyes remained thoughtful. "Yes, he does. But I wonder if he truly understands what it means to carry the weight of that legacy."

Corlys glanced at her, his brow furrowing slightly. "He’ll have to, in time. But for now, let’s hope he enjoys his moment. The realm is watching."

As you completed your victory lap, acknowledging the cheers of the crowd, you felt a surge of exhilaration and pride. The first tilt was yours, a testament to the skill and strength you had honed over the years. But more than that, it was a reminder to everyone watching that House Targaryen was still the mightiest in the realm.

You returned to the starting line, your gaze lifting once more to the royal box, where your father stood, his eyes full of love and pride. The next round awaited, but in that moment, you felt invincible. Today was your day, and nothing could diminish the glory of the Targaryen name.

As the next knight prepared to face you, you readied yourself for the challenge, determination burning bright within you. This was only the beginning, and you intended to make it a day to remember—for yourself, for your family, and for the realm.

The tourney grounds were abuzz with excitement as the next round of jousts was set to begin. The energy in the air crackled with anticipation, and the stands were filled with spectators eagerly watching every move of the knights and their steeds.

The knight who had just won, a Baratheon, called out to the stands, his voice strong and carrying easily over the crowd. "Lady Rhaenys Targaryen, Queen Who Never Was, I ask for your favor!"

A murmur spread through the audience as all eyes turned to the royal box where Rhaenys sat beside her husband, Corlys Velaryon. The Baratheon knight’s choice was a deliberate one—by choosing Rhaenys, he paid homage to her strength and legacy, but the title he used carried a certain sting, a reminder of the Iron Throne she had been denied.

Rhaenys, ever composed, allowed a small, knowing smile to grace her lips as she rose, acknowledging the knight with a nod. She lifted her hand and let a favor, a ribbon of deep blue, flutter down to him. The crowd erupted into applause, though there were those who caught the subtle tension in the exchange.

Beside her, Corlys shifted in his seat, a frown darkening his features. He leaned closer to his wife, his voice low but edged with irritation. "You shouldn’t allow him to call you that, Rhaenys. It’s a slight, a reminder of what was unjustly taken from you."

Rhaenys glanced at her husband, her expression calm, almost dismissive. "It’s just a title, Corlys," she replied, her tone measured. "Let them call me what they will. It doesn’t change who I am or what we’ve built together."

Corlys huffed quietly, clearly displeased but respecting his wife’s decision. "Still, I don’t like it. You deserve more than to be reminded of old wounds."

Rhaenys placed a hand over his, her gaze softening. "You’re a good husband, Corlys, but you mustn’t let such things bother you. We know our worth, and that’s what truly matters."

Before Corlys could respond, the attention of the crowd shifted as Daemon Targaryen prepared for his next tilt. He had chosen his opponent carefully, with a calculated intent that Rhaenyra recognized immediately. As she watched her uncle raise his lance and point it at Ser Gwayne Hightower, her brow furrowed in disapproval. This was not a random choice; it was a deliberate act of provocation aimed directly at the Hand of the King, Otto Hightower.

Rhaenyra leaned closer to Alicent, who sat beside her, nervously picking at the skin around her fingers, her anxiety apparent. "He’s doing this to spite your father," Rhaenyra murmured, her tone edged with concern. "He knows exactly what he’s doing."

Alicent’s lips pressed into a thin line, her eyes flickering with worry as she watched her brother, Ser Gwayne, prepare for the tilt. "I know," she whispered back, her voice barely audible. "I wish he wouldn’t."

The signal was given, and Daemon and Gwayne charged at each other, their horses thundering down the lists. The crowd leaned forward in their seats, the tension palpable. In a flash, Daemon’s lance struck Gwayne with such force that it shattered upon impact, the blow violently dismounting Gwayne and sending him crashing to the ground in a cloud of dust.

A collective gasp rippled through the audience, followed by a murmur of mixed reactions. Some cheered for Daemon’s prowess, while others whispered in concern for the fallen knight. Otto Hightower’s face drained of color, horror etched in his features as he watched his son struggle to rise, dazed and bruised.

Daemon, ever the showman, circled his horse back around with a triumphant air. But instead of immediately acknowledging his victory or his opponent, he rode directly toward the royal box where Alicent sat. The tension in the air thickened as Daemon approached, his eyes gleaming with mischief.

"Lady Alicent," Daemon called out, his voice loud enough for all to hear, "would you grant me your favor?"

Alicent froze, her breath catching in her throat. This was not what she had expected. She had hoped, in the quiet recesses of her heart, that if anyone were to ask for her favor today, it would be you. But now, with all eyes on her, she felt trapped.

Rhaenyra watched the scene unfold with a frown, understanding Daemon’s intent all too well. He was not only rubbing salt in the wound by asking for Alicent’s favor but was also making a pointed statement to Otto and the entire court.

Alicent hesitated, her fingers trembling slightly as she reached for the favor she had prepared. With a deep breath, she dropped the ribbon—a delicate piece of green silk—down to Daemon, who caught it with a flourish. The crowd erupted into applause, though the undercurrent of tension was undeniable.

Rhaenyra leaned toward her uncle as he passed by their box on his way back to the field. "Congratulations, Uncle," she said, her voice carrying both genuine admiration and a hint of reproach.

Daemon smirked, inclining his head slightly. "Thank you, dear niece. Let’s see if your brother can match me," he teased, his eyes gleaming with that familiar, dangerous light.

Rhaenyra forced a smile, but her eyes followed Daemon warily as he returned to the field. She knew her uncle well enough to recognize that his actions today were more than just about winning a tourney—they were about making a statement, and that statement had clearly unsettled more than a few members of the court.

As Daemon moved off, the focus of the tourney returned to you. The crowd, still buzzing from the previous tilt, quieted with anticipation as you prepared for your next round. You could feel the weight of their expectations, but you were undaunted. The lance in your hand felt like an extension of your own body, and Stormwind beneath you was eager for the challenge ahead.

The signal was given, and with a powerful kick, you spurred Stormwind forward. The earth trembled beneath his hooves as he charged down the lists, your focus narrowing on your opponent. You felt the wind whip past your face, the cheers of the crowd fading into the background as the world narrowed to this single, decisive moment.

As you and your opponent closed the distance, your lance lowered and your aim true. The impact, when it came, was a bone-jarring collision of wood and steel, but you held firm. Your lance struck your opponent’s shield squarely, and with a mighty effort, you felt the resistance give way.

Your opponent was sent flying from his horse, landing hard on the ground with a thud. The crowd erupted into wild cheers, the sound of your victory echoing through the tourney grounds. Your father, King Viserys, stood from his seat, clapping enthusiastically, his face a mixture of pride and joy.

Rhaenyra and Alicent joined the applause, though each had different emotions swirling within them. Rhaenyra was filled with pride, but also a renewed sense of possessiveness. Alicent, on the other hand, clapped politely, though her earlier anxiety had not entirely dissipated.

In the stands, Rhaenys watched you with a measured gaze, while Corlys, clearly impressed, leaned toward his wife. "The boy is exceptional," he murmured. "There’s no doubt about it. He’s everything a Targaryen prince should be."

Rhaenys nodded, though her expression remained contemplative. "Yes, but let’s hope he navigates the politics as deftly as he does the tourney field. Strength is one thing—wisdom is another."

As you circled back to the starting line, the crowd continued to cheer, and you raised your lance in acknowledgment. The day was far from over, and more challenges awaited, but for now, the Targaryen name had been upheld with honor and glory.

You prepared for the next tilt, your heart steady, your focus unwavering. The cheers of the crowd, the pride in your father’s eyes, and the knowledge that Rhaenyra and Alicent were watching—all of it spurred you on. This was your day, and you intended to make it one that would be remembered for years to come.

The opponent before you now was one of the Florent brothers, a knight known for his skill and speed on the field. His armor, decorated with the sun and fox emblem of House Florent, gleamed in the sunlight, and his stance on his horse was confident, almost cocky.

But you were not to be underestimated. The adrenaline of the previous tilts still coursed through your veins, and the roar of the crowd only fueled your determination. You glanced briefly towards the royal box, catching the eager gazes of Rhaenyra and Alicent, their eyes fixed on you. The sight of them watching spurred you on, a reminder of why you fought today—not just for glory, but for the pride of your house and the love of your family.

The horn sounded, sharp and clear, and with a powerful kick, you urged Stormwind into action. The stallion surged forward, his powerful hooves pounding the earth as you charged down the lists. Your lance was steady in your grip, your eyes locked on the Florent knight, who mirrored your movements on the opposite side.

The gap between you closed rapidly, the wind rushing past your ears as time seemed to slow. You could see the dare in your opponent’s eyes, but you did not waver. With a precise flick of your wrist, you adjusted your aim, your lance striking the Florent knight’s shield with a thunderous crack.

The impact was immediate and decisive. The force of your blow shattered your opponent’s defenses, and before he could recover, he was sent flying from his horse, crashing heavily to the ground. The crowd erupted into cheers, the victory swift and clear.

You circled back to the starting line, but instead of preparing for another tilt, you guided Stormwind towards the royal box. The cheers of the crowd grew louder as they realized where you were heading, the anticipation palpable in the air. Ladies in the stands leaned forward, their breaths held, hoping that you might stop before them, hoping that today they might catch the eye of the prince.

As you approached, the excitement among the ladies was almost tangible. You could see the hope in their eyes, the way they straightened their backs and smoothed their dresses as you passed. But your gaze was fixed ahead, your mind made up.

Instead of stopping before any of the noble ladies vying for your attention, you brought Stormwind to a halt directly below the royal box, where your sister Rhaenyra sat. The crowd’s murmurs grew louder, surprised and intrigued by your choice, while Rhaenyra’s heart skipped a beat as she realized what you intended.

You looked up at her, a soft smile playing on your lips as you raised your lance in salute. "Princess Rhaenyra," you called out, your voice clear and strong, "would you do me the honor of granting your favor?"

Rhaenyra’s eyes sparkled with delight, a brilliant smile lighting up her face. This was more than just a simple gesture—it was a public declaration of the bond you shared, a victory that she relished deeply. The attention of all the other ladies in the court paled in comparison to this moment, a reminder that she still held a special place in your heart.

With a graceful movement, Rhaenyra untied a ribbon from her sleeve, a delicate piece of Targaryen red silk, and leaned over the edge of the box to drop it into your waiting hand. "With all my heart, dear brother," she said, her voice filled with affection and pride.

You caught the ribbon with ease, tying it carefully around the tip of your lance before raising it high for all to see. The crowd erupted into applause, the gesture admired by all. It was not just a victory in the joust, but a victory in the hearts of the people—a symbol of the unity and strength of House Targaryen.

Rhaenyra’s eyes followed you as you rode back to the field, her heart swelling with pride and a sense of triumph. This was her victory, too—a small but meaningful reminder that, despite the attention you garnered from others, the bond between brother and sister was unbreakable.

Beside her, Alicent watched the exchange with a soft smile, though a flicker of something unreadable passed through her eyes. It was clear that your relationship was something special, and Alicent was content to see her friend so happy.

As you returned to the field, ready to face your next opponent, the favor of Rhaenyra tied proudly to your lance, you felt a renewed sense of purpose. Today was a day to be remembered—not just for the victories won on the field, but for the connections reaffirmed in the heart of your family.

The cheers of the crowd filled your ears as you took your position, the anticipation of the next tilt mounting. With the ribbon of your sister’s favor fluttering in the wind, you felt invincible, ready to face whatever challenge came at you.

The next knight approached, the crowd’s excitement building once more. As you prepared to charge, the weight of the day’s events settled comfortably on your shoulders. This was your day, your moment, and you intended to seize it with all the fire and fury of your house.

With a final glance at the royal box, where Rhaenyra’s smile still shone brightly, you lowered your lance and spurred Stormwind forward.

The sun hung high in the sky, casting its light over the tourney grounds as the final tilt of the day approached. The crowd was loud with excitement, their voices blending into a chorus of eager anticipation. This was the moment they had all been waiting for—the final showdown between the two most formidable competitors: Prince Daemon Targaryen and Prince Y/N Targaryen.

You sat atop Stormwind, the powerful stallion beneath you steady and poised, sensing the importance of the moment. Your heart pounded with a mix of adrenaline and resolve. The previous tilts had been challenging, but this was different. This was Daemon, your uncle, a man known for his skill, cunning, and unpredictability. The tension in the air was palpable as you both prepared for what would undoubtedly be a clash to remember.

Across the field, Daemon adjusted his helmet, his expression hidden but his demeanor unmistakably confident. His dark armor gleamed in the sunlight, the three-headed dragon of House Targaryen emblazoned boldly on his chest. He was already mounted on his dragon-black stallion, Caraxes, named after his own fearsome dragon. The horse, like its rider, was a creature of raw power and grace, snorting and pawing at the ground in anticipation.

The horn sounded, signaling the start of the final tilt, and the crowd fell into a hushed silence, their eyes glued to the two dragon princes facing off in the lists.

You took a deep breath, your focus narrowing to the task at hand. With a firm grip on your lance, you spurred Stormwind into a gallop. The stallion surged forward with powerful strides, his hooves pounding the earth in a rhythmic thunder. Across the field, Daemon did the same, his own mount racing towards you, the two of you closing the distance with alarming speed.

Time seemed to slow as you lined up your lance, aiming for the center of Daemon’s shield. The world around you faded, leaving only the blur of your uncle’s form charging towards you, the glint of his armor catching the sun, and the rush of wind in your ears. You tightened your grip, bracing for impact.

The collision, when it came, was fierce. Your lance struck Daemon’s shield with a resounding crack, but he met your blow with equal force. The impact jarred through your arm, but you held firm, refusing to yield. For a moment, it seemed like the strike had been a draw, both of you remaining in your saddles, but then Daemon leaned into his strike, his skill and experience showing as he directed the force of his lance just right.

Before you could fully adjust, you felt the world tilt beneath you. The force of Daemon’s strike, combined with the precise angle, knocked you off balance. Time seemed to stretch as you felt yourself falling, the ground rushing up to meet you. The impact was hard, the breath knocked from your lungs as you hit the dirt.

The crowd gasped collectively, the sound of your fall echoing in the stunned silence that followed. From the royal box, Viserys had already risen to his feet, his heart leaping into his throat as he saw you go down. "Gods, no!" he breathed, his voice tight with fear. But as you quickly pushed yourself up, shaking off the disorientation from the fall, he let out a long sigh of relief, his body sagging back into his seat.

Rhaenyra, who had been on the edge of her seat, her knuckles white from gripping the railing, exhaled the breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. Her eyes were wide with worry, but as she saw you stand, a rush of relief and pride filled her. She could see you were unharmed, but the sight of you on the ground had shaken her deeply.

You rose to your feet, brushing the dirt from your armor, your pride bruised but your spirit unbroken. You could feel the sting of defeat, but it was tempered by the knowledge that you had given everything in that tilt. Stormwind stood nearby, having stopped shortly after your fall, the loyal stallion snorting anxiously as if to say he was ready to try again.

Before you could fully gather your bearings, Daemon was there, dismounting with the fluid grace that came naturally to him. He approached you with a look that was half smirk, half respect. "Not bad, nephew," he said, his tone carrying both praise and a hint of playful mockery. "You almost had me there."

He extended a hand, offering to help you up. There was no malice in his gaze, just the familiar gleam of challenge that always seemed to light his eyes.

You took his hand, accepting the gesture, and he pulled you to your feet with a firm grip. "Almost," you replied, your voice steady, though there was a spark of competitiveness in your tone. "But you got me in the end."

Daemon patted you on the back, his smirk widening into a grin. "Today, perhaps. But don’t let it weigh too heavily on you. We’re both dragons, after all, and you fought well. The court will remember this day, not just for my victory, but for your strength and skill."

You nodded, appreciating the words, though the sting of defeat still lingered. "Thank you, Uncle. But next time, I won’t be so easy to dismount."

Daemon chuckled, clearly pleased by your response. "I wouldn’t expect anything less." He gave you a final nod of approval before turning to face the roaring crowd, raising his lance in acknowledgment of his victory. The people cheered loudly, celebrating the spectacle they had witnessed.

From the royal box, Viserys beamed with pride, his worry from moments before forgotten. "That was a fine match!" he declared, his voice booming over the noise of the crowd. "Both of you did House Targaryen proud today!"

Rhaenyra, still shaken by the sight of you on the ground, managed a smile, though her concern for you was evident in her eyes. She watched as you walked off the field with Daemon, your head held high despite the outcome. Alicent, sitting beside her, glanced at Rhaenyra and saw the worry that lingered beneath her composed exterior.

"Are you all right?" Alicent asked softly, her voice filled with genuine concern.

Rhaenyra nodded, though her eyes didn’t leave you. "I’m fine. It’s just… seeing him fall like that…"

Alicent placed a reassuring hand on Rhaenyra’s arm. "He’s strong, Rhaenyra. He’s always been strong. And you saw how he got back up. That’s what matters."

Rhaenyra finally tore her gaze away from the field to look at Alicent, offering her a grateful smile. "You’re right. He’s strong." But even as she said it, the image of you lying in the dirt lingered in her mind, a reminder of how much she cared for you, and how much she feared losing you.

As you and Daemon made your way off the field, the crowd continued to cheer, the happenings of the day’s events leaving everyone in high spirits. You may not have won the final tilt, but the respect you had earned was clear in the cheers and the admiring glances from the crowd.

Daemon, ever the warrior, clapped you on the back once more as you both approached the edge of the field. "Come, let’s find a drink and enjoy the rest of the day. You’ve earned it, and so have I."

You nodded, the tension of the tilt finally starting to ease as the prospect of celebrating with your uncle and the rest of your family took hold. "Lead the way, Uncle."

As the two of you walked off the field, the weight of the day’s events still fresh in your mind, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of pride. Though the final victory had eluded you, you had proven yourself today, not just to the court, but to your family. And in the end, that was worth more than any trophy or title.

Jugglers, dancers, and bards filled the air with music and laughter, while the smell of roasted meats and sweet treats wafted through the air. The day had been filled with adrenaline, and now, as evening approached, the court gathered for the grand feast that would conclude the festivities.

Inside the Great Hall of the Red Keep, long tables were laden with platters of food, and goblets of wine flowed freely. The room was alive with chatter and the clinking of silverware, the high vaulted ceilings amplifying the sounds of celebration. The lords and ladies of the realm, dressed in their finest, mingled and conversed, their faces flushed with the warmth of the firelight and the effects of the wine.

You found yourself seated at a table near the head of the hall, surrounded by some of the most powerful figures in the realm. To your right was Lord Tayland Lannister, his golden hair and fine clothes a clear testament to the wealth and influence of his house. Across from you sat Lord Corlys Velaryon, the Sea Snake, his eyes sharp and calculating as he sipped from his goblet, his mind clearly at work even amidst the festivities.

"Your accomplishments in Dorne have become the talk of the realm, my prince," Tayland said, his tone filled with admiration. "It's no small feat to have secured our borders against the Dornish. Your leadership has brought peace to lands that have known only strife for too long."

You inclined your head in thanks, though you remained humble in your response. "The credit belongs to the men who fought beside me, and to Silverwing. She was the true force that kept the Dornish at bay."

Lord Corlys leaned forward slightly, his gaze intent. "Don't sell yourself short, my prince. It takes more than just a dragon to win a war; it takes a leader who can command respect and inspire loyalty. You've shown that you have the makings of a true king."

You nodded, acknowledging his words. "I appreciate the compliment, Lord Corlys. But the work is never done. The realm is vast, and there are always new challenges to face."

A flicker of something passed through Corlys's eyes—perhaps ambition or a calculated desire. He chose his next words carefully. "Speaking of challenges, the situation in the Stepstones remains unresolved. The Triarchy grows bolder with each passing day, and their presence in those waters threatens the safety of our trade routes. The realm cannot afford to ignore this any longer."

Tayland Lannister nodded in agreement, his expression thoughtful. "The Sea Snake is right. The Stepstones are a vital passage for trade, and the Triarchy's control over them is a serious threat. The crown would do well to consider taking decisive action."

Corlys seized the moment, his tone subtle but insistent. "A leader of your experience and skill, my prince, could make all the difference in securing those waters for the realm. With your influence, perhaps the crown might be persuaded to take a more active role in the conflict."

It was clear what Corlys was suggesting—he wanted you to influence your father, King Viserys, to commit to a campaign in the Stepstones. The thought lingered in your mind, but you were well aware of the delicate nature of such matters. Viserys had been reluctant to engage in another conflict, especially after the long campaign in Dorne. He was a man who valued peace, and while he respected the needs of the realm, he was not easily swayed into war.

Before you could respond, the conversation was interrupted by a different sort of commotion. A group of lords, eager to ingratiate themselves with the crown, approached your father, each of them accompanied by their daughters, who were of marriageable age. They vied for Viserys's attention, each one eager to present their daughter as a potential bride for you.

"My daughter, Lady Elinor, is as wise as she is beautiful, Your Grace," one lord said, his voice oozing with pride. "She would make a fine match for the prince."

"Lady Alisanne is skilled in all the noble arts, Your Grace. She is well-versed in history, languages, and music," another lord chimed in, his daughter standing demurely beside him.

Viserys smiled politely, listening to their propositions, but it was clear that his mind was elsewhere. He had waited years for this moment, to have his son by his side once more, and he was determined to enjoy the evening without being burdened by matters of marriage and alliances. He responded with a noncommittal nod, offering a few kind words but making no promises.

As the lords continued their attempts to press the matter, Otto Hightower, ever the strategist, nudged his daughter Alicent, who was seated beside him. He leaned in close, his voice low but firm. "Alicent, you should seize this moment. The prince is listening to all these offers, and if you wish to catch his attention, now is the time."

Alicent hesitated, her gaze flickering to where you were seated, engaged in conversation with Tayland and Corlys. She knew what her father was suggesting—she had seen the way the other ladies had looked at you during the tourney, the way they whispered among themselves, hoping to catch your eye. But before she could muster the courage to act, someone else stepped forward.

Rhaenyra, who had been watching the proceedings from a distance, sensed the moment and made her move. She approached you with a confident stride, her presence commanding immediate attention. The lords and ladies around you parted, making way for the princess as she reached your side.

"Brother," Rhaenyra said, her voice warm and filled with affection, "I've been looking for you. Surely you don't intend to spend the entire evening in conversation with the lords?"

You turned to her, a smile spreading across your face at the sight of your sister. "Of course not, Rhaenyra. I wouldn't miss the chance to spend time with you on a day like this."

Rhaenyra's eyes sparkled with mischief as she glanced at the lords who had been vying for your attention. "I thought you might be in need of rescue," she teased, her voice carrying just enough playful humor to defuse the tension.

The lords who had been pressing their daughters as potential brides exchanged glances, recognizing that the moment had passed. With polite bows and murmured excuses, they withdrew, leaving you and Rhaenyra standing together. Viserys watched the exchange with a smile, pleased to see his children together, the connection between them as strong as ever.

Alicent, who had been about to rise from her seat, hesitated and then sat back down, her expression unreadable. Otto frowned slightly, but said nothing, his mind already working on another approach.

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

Hi there!

If you still take stardew valley requests please write hurt/comfort with Shane and (gn) reader about Shane getting progressively more worried about the farmer each time they go mining because of all the injuries they get there to the point where one day he snaps and breaks down in front of the farmer. It would be nice if you could show shane slowly loosing his mind each day but that would probably make the fic longer so no pressure. just pls make sure theres comfort after the hurt, bad endings make me sad :(

Thank you in advance, and even if you choose not to write this i hope you still have a lovely day.

I'm always down for Shane angst <3

In my main file I fear he's like this bc I'm constantly coming back from the dangerous mines/skull caverns on like 1 hp at 1:50 am

......

(Spring, Year 1)

"Hi, Shane!"

"God, what do you want now?"

"Nothing. I'm off to the mines." You grinned at the rugged man in front of you, holding up your pickaxe. "I'm shooting for level 120 this time, and hopefully I can pick up more gems along the way."

Shane raised a brow. "...and I care because?"

"You don't have to. Just thought I'd let you know."

'What? Like you think I'll go looking for you if you pass out? Forget it. Whatever happens is your own damn fault."

"I know the risks, but thank you." You politely answered, ignoring his blunt rudeness before checking the monster slayer guide. "The Adventurer's Guild wants me to slay a ton of bats...only 200 more to go."

""Adventurer's Guild?" Sounds stupid and childish." He grumbled, taking a swig of joja cola in his grasp. He was already running late to work, and he didn't want to get yelled at by Morris.

And he certainly didn't want you, the new farmer who made it their mission to annoy the shit out of him everyday, being the reason.

"Well it's neither of those things. It's actually thrilling." You chuckled, before digging an emerald out of your pocket. "I meant to sell this yesterday, but you can have it."

"...the hell? What am I supposed to do with this?" His brows furrowed at the green mineral you shoved into his hand.

"Keep it..for good luck, I guess?" You shrugged. "You can put it in your pocket and forget about it if you want. I just wanted to give you something nice. Plus, not to be weird, but...it kinda reminded me of your eye color."

Normally, any other villager would've been thrilled that you wanted to befriend them with gifts that reminded you of them.....

Yet Shane just stared at you as though you've confessed to stalking him.

"If you wanna give me something that's actually "nice", buy me a beer at the saloon next time." He sneered, brushing past you and continuing towards JojaMart, while you headed north of town, already knowing what you're gonna do tonight.

When you looked over your shoulder, you could see him pocket the emerald rather than throw it away despite him passing by several trash cans.

And you smiled.

.

.

.

.

.

.

(Present Day)

"Awh, you still held onto that emerald even after all this time?"

"Yeah, so what? It was the first gift anyone's really given me.." Shane confessed, heat rising to his cheeks as he held the mineral between his fingers. "I never believed in all that crap about crystals and "energy" that Emily talks about. But..I just like keeping this one around. It's like...erm..."

"A testament to the start of our friendship and eventual marriage?" You cheekily grinned as you polished your weapon, before looking to your husband.

He nodded. "Exactly what I was gonna say."

"I know you so well." Chuckling, you walked over to kiss him on the cheek. "I'm gonna head to the mines, okay? Welwick says the spirits will shower everyone in good luck. I wanna see if the fabled prismatic shards really do exist."

Almost immediately, Shane froze..and he found himself wanting to desperately say "no" and convince you to stay on the farmhouse.

But he didn't know why.

From the moment he met you, he knew you sought adventure and profits in the mines, fighting all sorts of monsters for the Adventurer's Guild. He's seen skeletons, mummies, and golems caged up at Spirits' Eve festivals, but never the wild ones below the surface who attacked you relentlessly.

Yet you never let the constant dangers deter you from exploring.

Mining was exhausting work, yet rewarding every time you cracked a stone open to find a diamond or discovered a treasure chest. With the materials you've gathered, you were able to craft some rings to wear, enchanted with powers to help make your excursions easier and safer.

Despite being well-prepared, though, Shane did have his concerns...especially as once you came home after clashing with skeletons, a scar on your head from a flying femur bone that still hasn't fully healed.

You only went to Harvey to get it checked out after your husband--who was your boyfriend at the time--insisted on it.

Even before that, he'd see you around town, bearing a new bug bite, scratch, burn, bruise, or bandaid on your body.

It never worried him before, but after that skeleton incident, he finally understood that those monsters were real and you were seriously getting yourself hurt.

He'd go to the mines with you if not for his fears that he'll only make things worse. There's a good chance he'll slow you down and find himself getting swarmed by slimes, bats, bugs, and whatever the hell else was there....and he wasn't exactly the most fit to swing a sword or pickaxe.

Simple walks made him tired.

What good would he do?

"Shane? What's wrong?"

Blinking, he snapped out his thoughts and saw your concerned face. "Nothing, sweetheart." He dismissed, giving you a little smile. "Just be careful out there, alright? I'll take care of things here."

"Thank you, baby." Smiling back, you gave him a kiss before heading out the door with your backpack and tools. "Off to the bottom of the mines I go!"

Shane tensed.

"Wait-"

As quickly as the door opened, it slammed shut, and he was left by himself in the cabin.

It was an uncomfortable silence.

'Maybe I should've tagged along.....buh, what am I saying? They'll be fine. They do this all the time. Stop getting so worked up, idiot..' Clearing his mind yet again, he went off to check things around the farm for you, deciding to watch TV later on.

There was gonna be another Tunneler's game tonight, so at least he had that to look forward to.

Nothing like that, some good food in the fridge, and this cozy cabin he got to call home...

And it was all because of you.

If you could build everything here and still having the energy to go mining and fight monsters, why should he worry?

.

.

.

.

.

1:20 AM

After a productive day, Shane managed to fall asleep early for once.

Only be woken up by the creak of the bedroom door.

Light almost immediately flooded his vision, stirring him from his slumber as he grumbled and tried to shield his eyes, wondering what time it was.

"Fuck..morning already-?"

"No, honey..it's...just me. Sorry.."

He blinked, sitting up to see that it was only you coming into the room, removing your rings. One of them served as your light source, yet it didn't hide the numerous scratched and bruises that littered your skin.

And they were all fresh.

"Babe, wha...are you okay?" Shane was now fully awake, watching as you peeled off your jacket and trousers, tossing them into the corner of the room before dragging yourself into bed.

Only then could he see your injuries up close and personal, and his heart began racing. "What happened? You look like hell."

"I'm fine, Shane. I just..need to sleep it off.."

"B-But...there's blood everywhere.." He mumbled, his eyes going to the clothes in the corner. "I can call Harvey-"

"No..don't. I already patched myself up. I'll be fine in the morning..I just wanna be here with you." Smiling weakly, you kissed him, before putting the prismatic shard into his hand. "Look. It exists...haha...it's so pretty, right? It's yours."

He didn't know what to say, staring dumbfounded at the mineral.

What hell did you go through to get this?

And as much as he loved it..why get it for him?

Why risk your life?

But when he looked back to question you further, you were already passed out beside him, looking peaceful despite the wounds on your body.

Eventually, he slid the prismatic shard under his pillow and laid back down, only to hesitate in wrapping his arm around you.

All he could do was gaze at your exhausted face..and the dried blood under your nose.

Least to say, he had trouble falling back to sleep.

..........

Ever since that night, Shane's grown increasingly worried over your safety during your mining trips. And it began to affect his usual routine around the farm.

In fact, calling it "worry" at this point would be a heavy understatement..

It became straight-up paranoia.

Whether you headed off to the mines or Skull Caverns early because of an "extra lucky day" or simply because you needed a specific resource, you'd always come back home the same way:

At later hours, with more injuries and bandages than last time, constantly on the verge of passing out and barely able to hold a conversation with him.

Of course, you'd have breakfast with him, and you'd never leave the farmhouse without giving him a kiss...but it did nothing to ease his mind, as he'd constantly see your wounds and dread whatever horror stories you were about to tell him.

Even though you're perfectly nonchalant as you talk about a serpent who tried wrapping itself around you and squeeze every last breath out of your body, it made Shane feel utterly sick to his stomach.

How could you be so calm after so many brushes with death?

He didn't understand.

On the surface, he seemed fine with you leaving. But when you did, he'd find himself turning to beer to calm his nerves..although most days he was able to resist the urge and occupy himself with farming tasks or video games.

Despite this, he hasn't outright told you anything. He knew mining was your passion and thought you'd chastise him for "worrying over nothing".

So he kept it to himself, thinking his anxiety was being stupid.

Then the final straw came the evening when he got a call from Harvey's clinic around 5PM.

One that he hoped to never hear:

You passed out, and were currently being treated for serious injuries.

He bolted out the cabin, all the way to the town square and damn near broke the door down. There, Harvey, Linus, and Marlon were at your bedside, the latter two having brought you in after seeing you fall unconscious in from of the elevator, covered in blood and shrapnel.

Fortunately, you were expected to make a full recovery with just stitches and some IV fluids to rehydrate your body...but you still owed Shane one hell of an explanation.

This time around, you landed in an "infested" area of the 100s, trying to use a bomb to kill off most of the monsters.

Only to trip over a stupid lava crab and drop the bomb after you just ignited it, damn near losing your leg trying to kick it away from you in time.

And by the grace of Yoba, you were able to limp your way back to the ladder, return to floor zero, where Linus so-happened to be passing by the mine entrance.

You gave the poor old man quite a fright, as he didn't know how much blood on you was from the monsters...or you.

In the end, the bomb left shrapnel in your flesh, searing your clothing and requiring stitches to ensure you didn't bleed out. You appreciated Harvey for his quick work and for Linus and Marlon for taking you to him.

However nobody in that clinic was more terrified over your condition than Shane, who was in disbelief that you were able to stand and walk back home with him after getting discharged.

He wouldn't talk to you, although his hands shook as he helped you into bed, still sleeping beside you like he did every night before this.

But this time...he had the worst nightmare possible.

He was down in the mines with you, except he felt stuck and couldn't do anything to warn you or save you from the impending danger.

It was like he was spectating a game, instead forced to watch as the bats and monsters made of shadows descended upon you with their teeth bared and claws out, tearing into your body. You had yelled for him to save you, to stop being useless, damning him for not stopping you from leaving...yet their horrible noises drowned out any further shouts.

Then you were gone.

You were gone and he failed you.

And it was all his fault.

It made him joltbwide awake at 3 AM, and he felt like his heart was about to burst from his chest. His mind kept going to you, constantly checking to make sure you're still breathing, unable to fall back to sleep for a while.

When he did, he was in tears.

..........

"No."

"Shane, I know last night was bad. But I'm not-"

"You're not going to the mines today. I mean it."

Dumbfounded, you gazed at Shane, who was physically blocking you from leaving the cabin. A scowl was written all over his face.

You sighed and rubbed the side of your head. "It's only the first few levels, honey. Willy needed bug meat for-"

"Right. The "first few" you say, and then I'll get a call from Harvey at 2 AM about you needing emergency surgery again." He gritted his teeth, tears coming to his eyes. "Whatever he or anyone in this damn town needs in those mines can wait. Why can't you just stay?!"

"I don't understand.." Your eyebrows furrowed. "You never cared before if I went there. What changed?"

"What changed....? What changed is that I've been having a lot more of sleepless nights lately! I can barely eat or do anything except worry and worry about you. And it's because...because..." He trailed off.

"Because what?"

"......."

You sighed. "Shane, if you're not gonna tell me what's wrong, then I don't see why-"

"Because you've been scaring me to death okay?!" His hands now gripping your shoulders as he stared at you. "You think you're invincible, but you aren't. What don't you get?! How badly are you gonna let those things hurt you?! Or be the reason YOU DROP DEAD AND DON'T COME HOME?!!" He screamed.

Your own eyes widened, stunned by his words..and eventually you saw the realization flash across his face as he blurted out his true feelings.

The ones he tried to hide from you, yet consumed him for hours upon hours whenever you left for the mines.

It made your heart plummet.

His breath hitched, and you then saw the tears beginning to fall from his greenish eyes.

"Shane..."

"[Y/n], you saved me from throwing my life away. And...i-it's like you're throwing away yours for no reason!" He sobbed. "Night after night, I have nightmares of seeing your limp body..a-and....and I can't save you. I can't do anything except scream and beg them to stop hurting you! But they never listen! A-And...I just...I-I don't wanna lose you. I can't lose you..."

He looked totally shattered, making you finally realize how serious this was.

Your guilt right now was immensurable, watching the man you loved fall apart right in front of you.

And it was your fault.

"Sweetheart, I'm so sorry..." You pulled him into a tight hug, and he completely broke down in your arms. His quiet crying became muffled by your shoulder. "I..I had no idea you were feeling that way. Why didn't you tell me about the nightmares sooner?"

"You would've thought..th-they were stupid. Or that I sound "needy" or controlling.." He sniffled. "I-I know I can't stop you from going, but...I just..a-after what happened to you last night, I...I.."

"Oh, honey..that was my dumb mistake. The monsters had nothing to do with my injuries." Rubbing his back, you gently kissed his head. "I was tired and got clumsy with a stupid bomb..but I promise it won't happen again. You're right. I'm not invincible. I need that reality check sometimes."

He didn't say anything, instead holding onto you tighter.

You never realized how badly your mining trips and injuries were affecting him...affecting this very relationship.

The Shane you met back in Year 1 could care less if you dropped dead. He outright said he'd never go looking for you and that whatever happened was your own fault.

But the Shane you knew now was crying in your arms over the mere thought that one day you'll go into the mines and never come out, holding it all in until he couldn't anymore.

You've really helped him open up to you, but now you were tearing him apart inside and never really knew it until this point.

"W-Will you just..stay here today, please?" He finally spoke, not caring about how needy or pathetic that sounded.

"...I will." You answered. "I'll take a break from mining for a good while."

"....you would do that for me?"

"Of course. I'd do anything for you, Shane. Hell..I'd give that up altogether if you wanted me to."

You felt him shake his head, and you chuckled, squeezing him tightly. "I'm only kidding, but I promise. No more mining this week."

Shane raised his head up, looking to make sure you were serious. And he saw nothing but sincerity in your expression.

You sighed softly and cupped the sides of his wet face, seeing the torrent of anxiety and frustration raging like an ocean current in his eyes. "You must've felt so lonely and terrified, baby..I'm sorry. I won't make you feel that way ever again."

He sniffled again as you brushed away his tears, before taking ahold of your wrist to kiss your palm...where your first scar from a rock crab came from.

How badly did he wanna kiss away every scar those bastards left on you until none remained.

Some faded with time and care, but others were more permanent--testaments to your survival down in the mines..as well as your several brushes with death.

Heat rose to your cheeks, watching him become so affectionate and gentle with you, even though he knows you're not made of glass whatsoever.

Eventually, his tears ceased as you both decided to go lay down on the bed together, with Shane cuddling up to you and resting his head on your chest. All he could hear was your strong heartbeat drowning out the noise in his mind.

It was still kicking, like you.

"Thank you..god, that was exhausting.." He mumbled. "I'm sor-"

"You don't have to be sorry for being honest with me." You reassured, petting his hair. "I just..wish I picked up the signs sooner."

"INah, I should've been clearer...and maybe that would spare myself this headache I got now.."

"Hmm..how about we sleep in until you feel better? Then we can check on the chickens."

Feeling him nod and wrap his arms around you, you took that as a "yes" and chuckled softly, knowing you weren't gonna leave this spot anytime soon.

But that's okay.

There's no other place you'd rather be. Not even the mines.

[sorensolsikke]

here's some punk diy tips and ideas

[other than crusty pants and battle jacket, although we still love those greatly.]

why should you diy, when you can just find decorated items everywhere, you can ask. what if you are clumsy at painting or anything?

firstly, good questions. we diy so we don't give credit to the big companies who rule the world. we diy to get more independent from the system we dislike. we diy so to save money. to express uniqueness, recognize eachother and be recognized. and especially to have fun and feel cool. diy is not only about clothing, but anything you can set your mind on. of course, one cannot make EVERYTHING for themselves, there isn't enough time and energy. but making at least small steps are already a statement and more than nothing. also, helping small artists by buying their products is also pretty punk.

that being said, i provide you with some tips of mine, all gained from experience:

anything you drew/painted on, you will WANT TO protect. acrylic paint/markers + acrylic paint varnish/transparent nail polish/textile medium are your best friends. read after anything that's new to you.

i highly recommend working with old clothing or thrift shop finds when it comes to textiles, as it is environmentally friendly and you will stay in budget. Anyways, always make sure that the material you use isn't gonna be problematic. for example, if you want to do some patchwork, the material shouldn't decay easily (if it does, it will come off so quickly.). if you want to paint on it, it shouldn't be rugged.

you can not only draw/paint on your canvas shoes, but can also sew, embroidery (just make sure to use a thimble, plus floss instead of thread could make your work more durable), and add beads and trinkets to your shoelaces. in the case of shoes, never use glue (neither hot nor instant glue) – it will come off quickly. for some inspiration, i'll show you my shoes!

(the fake moss is literally unstoppable from falling off or getting dirty. risky idea.)

it's good to carry around water and food!! you don't even have to pay for decorative water bottles and food boxes, as you can draw on glass and plastic just fine with acrylic markers. just don't forget to paint transparent nail polish all over your drawing. in at least two layers. don't be lazy or laid-back. even posca comes off while washing the dishes. and you WANT TO save your reference pictures/final designs, as the case of emergency is likely. but after all, my water bottle is exactly fine after six months, with no accuring problem.

if your current best option to get stickers from is aliexpress or overpriced decor stores, search for local artists and shops on instagram and tiktok, as it may be their most efficent way of getting you to know them. if it seems like you have no chance, you may can still find a print shop with the option of printing on self-adhesive sheets (at least in hungary, those are pretty cheap). and if you want drawings to print out as stickers, you may use your own or –ONLY IF YOU GET PERMISSION– other artist's work. not only good for decorations for like, headphones, but for vandalism too. WAIT WAIT who said that. who said it. not me. no never

(in case that's also impossible, you can create stickers by printing out/drawing a picture, cover it up in transparent adhesive tape, and then put some two-sided adhesive tape on the white side of the pic. it won't be that durable, but it functions.)

if you want to bleach-paint clothing, get some plastic brushes!! any other brush dissolves. draw your design first with chalk!! never forget to put cardboard inside the clothing, and to wash the finished work in a washing machine before you'd put it on. prepare to be patient with the process. and it's not dangerous to touch 5%-9% household bleach, just wash your hands soon after.

if you want your crusty pants to last veryyy long, wax them. look up on youtube jeans waxing.

some more things i made for myself so to give you some inspiration: totebag with pockets, a small crystal holder cabinet, badges, and i decorated some t-shirts, button-ups, an id card case, phonecase, laptop.

theoretically speaking, there is nothing that an individual would be unable to learn how to make, when it comes to diy. you can't imagine how easy it is to bake bread at home. consuming-focused media makes people believe that it's hard to make anything. of course, everyone has to decide about their own priorities, i don't want to convince or change anyone in here. and if you have any questions, send an ask!! i hope i had been helpful.

[etherfabric]

Directions from Your Higher Self

Choose a pile by which picture you resonate with the most.

If your mind is too busy to clearly decide, take a few deep breaths, and use the finger of your non-dominant hand to hover over the images. One will give off the most subtle yet prominent signals, like tingles, a magnetic pull, or temperature. This is your pile. Multiples are also possible.

Pile 1

The Star, The Moon

You started to believe in miracles, and are now scared shitless. No small expectations keeping you safe from disappointment anymore. You got a taste of what magic feels like, and now fear dullness like the plague. Two things: You are allowed to have boring days, that doesn't mean the magic is gone. It can't be Christmas everyday. You would get sick of the lights eventually, believe me. And the other thing: That's why they say that victimhood can be a kind of safety blanket. If you already expect only crap from life, there is no horrible suspense anymore. But now... you can't go back. Even if you try it.

This is an icky phase of metamorphosis. It's normal that it feels disorienting and like you can't make sense of anything anymore. Do soothing stuff, calming habits, be around safe people. And spoiler: This is about embracing your humanity in a whole new depth. Don't worry, it will feel supernatural again soon enough. But for now, practice being plain, while also weaving your belief in miracles into it. Challenging, yes, but nothing you can't handle. You got this.

Pile 2

The Moon, 3 of Pentacles

Nothing you put energy or effort into seems to yield anything. It feels like punching in slowmotion, nightmarish. Hitting no one who needs to feel your hits. Newsflash: This is not a time for work! Get soft, dammit. You can't experience rest while still trying to prove something. No one is watching. You are being your own cruel audience, and boo yourself into despair. What are you aiming at? Who convinced you that particular thing is the sole hope for you to be happy ever again?

I love you, you are me, I am you, but I can't let you go on like this. Not with what lies ahead of us. If you only knew how easy things will get. How many fears will never come true. How much lighter you could afford to be. How much love you already deserve. But you have to dare opening your arms, and put the tools down. The monuments you try to erect are aimed at Gods you won't believe in anymore once you experience your feminine side as a gift, and not a curse. Grindset? Grind your teeth while napping, if you have to. But this is bigger than your egotistical, temporal ambitions. You need to do it slow, and I won't stop insisting. Because I can see more than you. You will have no choice but trusting me on this one.

Pile 3

The Emperor, The Devil

Have you heard of this awesome thing called "free will"? Let's take that baby for a ride. Use 3 spoons for the same meal. Lie on the floor of your hallway and recite a song. Buy a stranger a magazine about trains. Take a pair of scissors to your least favorite shirt. Name your nail polishes after famous people. The possibilities are literally endless, but yet you rotate the same 7 things. They will stay ready for when you need them next, but let's shake it up a little, huh? No wonder you feel trapped and stuck. But YOU make the rules, at the end of the day. Yes, there are outer limitations you have no influence over, but even in a literal cage, you can decide what you think, or how you sit, or what notes you hum, or what shadow figures you make with your hands.

The thing itself is meaningless - it's about you experiencing being a CREATOR. Not just a servant to others. I don't care if it's throwing a paper plane into your bathtub, or quitting your job and disappearing to Nepal - but we crave novelty and agency. Deeply. Break the self-imposed limits, any of them. Just to feel what it feels like. It's more rewarding than you imagine.

Pile 4

The Hanged Man, 2 of Cups

Oh shucks. You like someone. It happened. And you can't cancel it willynilly. Suppression has run its course, and now you have to face the embarrassment of having a heart with a need to connect and love. This has completely ruined your illusion of sovereignty you so deeply depended on to feel safe in the world. What now? Where will it lead? What does it mean? What will happen next? Do they like me? Do they think of me? Do they think of me badly? Why do I think about them? Is this me being brave, or pathetic? Is there a true difference?...

The questions don't stop, and you know what - they shouldn't. This is less about the "result" of this connection (I know, boo me, because this is your hyperfixation above all, despite not ever admitting it) and more about getting you out of your shell to be curious about yourself again. The heart needs to be open, and these fears and doubts have been there for a long time already. You are ready to face them, examine them, and learn more about yourself than any flavour of aloofness could ever teach you. I know you hate it, but I can also see the faint giggly twinkle in your soul from up here, buried under all this denial and acting tough. And that's the most scary part for you. That you actually like someone, like, in THAT way. How scary that life has no guarantees, but coming to peace with that truth will serve you much more than any relationship ever could.

[jjkamochoso]

A Game of Fire and Ice

Angst, Hurt/Comfort

Satoru Gojo x gn!reader

When you get hurt on a mission, Gojo’s full power comes to light and you get a front row seat to seeing just how vicious your boyfriend can be.

Inspired by the lyrics “I don’t wanna scare you but I can and I will and I fucking hate it” in the song “Curses” by food house

Warnings: cussing, violence, blood

Satoru was warm.

His presence around you was like sunshine lighting up your face on the hottest summer day. His love for you burned as if he were the blazing logs in a fireplace on the coldest winter night, or an uncontrollable forest fire in the wilderness.

Satoru was warm.

Gojo was not.

His piercing ice blue stare could make the strongest enemy weak in the knees. If someone ever dared to get in his way, the drunkenness of power he felt as he tore them down, bit by bit, playing with the poor soul akin to a cat toying with a trapped mouse, was a feeling he would never tire of.

Satoru was warm. Gojo was frigid. Brutal, even.

And right now, it was Gojo that swarmed your vision, not Satoru, as you laid in the street, sticky blood pouring from your wounds and coating the pavement in a macabre painting of pure burgundy. The curse you were sent to exorcise had been misranked and maybe if you were more prepared walking into your fight with a special grade, you wouldn’t be on your deathbed right now. As a grade 1 sorcerer, you were by no means weak, but your opponent was formidable, outmaneuvering your techniques and putting up a strong fight, so much so that you were currently splayed out instead of standing up. When Gojo heard you were sent to fight a special grade instead of the simple grade 2 you were expecting, he was quick to teleport to your area as soon as he could. He knew you could handle yourself but figured you wouldn’t mind a helping hand so you could get back to enjoying your day together. And a helping hand was a far cry from what you needed at this point—you needed to see Shoko as soon as possible. As Gojo began his fight with the curse, you tried using reverse cursed technique to stop your bleeding but it was no use. Your energy had dwindled too much and you had no choice but to watch the fight unfold, hoping Gojo could be quick today. You heard the white haired man cackle as he unleashed raw fury upon the curse, pummeling it with cursed energy. Even through your spotted vision, you saw how he released endless amounts of punches at the curse, hitting it with both the blue and red techniques and laughing uncontrollably as the curse desperately tried to evade the attacks.

“What’s wrong? Getting tired?” taunted Gojo, blue eyes radiating a bloodlust like you had never seen before. It chilled you to your very core seeing how ruthless he gets with his enemies. You remembered how just the other night you were cuddled with the tall man, his lithe figure lazily draped over you, laughing about something silly and immature. You could hardly believe it was the same man in front of you, the one showcasing an insatiable desire to cause as much pain and anguish to this curse as he could. It was like he was in his own little world where nothing else mattered but proving his superiority over the curse he could easily squish under his well polished, expensive shoe like a bug.

“Don’t give up yet! We’re having fun, aren’t we?”

Another blast of blue went by and rubble from the now obliterated building came raining down on you, doing nothing to help the throbbing headache you were nursing. You shakily put a hand to your gushing abdomen and pulled it away to see it hadn’t let up a bit. You didn’t have much time but Gojo didn’t seem to notice. Maybe his Six Eyes were telling him you could hold on for a few minutes longer? You didn’t know. All you were aware of was that it was time for Gojo’s game of predator and prey to come to an end.

“Gojo, please… just end it,” you pleaded, but it seemed to fall on deaf ears as he continually jumped around, frustrating the curse he was battling since it couldn’t land a single blow on the man.

“Gojo!”

Nothing.

More rubble fell on you, this time hitting you in the same spot as the curse did, making your wound bleed even more, which you didn’t think was possible.

You let out an anguished groan. “Sa… Satoru. Please.”

That was enough to gain your lover’s attention. The glint of his blue eyes caught your own and it was like he crashed back down to earth and became aware of his surroundings, no longer intoxicated by sheer power. When he finally espied exactly how hurt you were, he opened his domain and killed the curse once and for all, his mind reeling with the fact that you were gravely injured. As much fun as he was having, you were supremely more important to him than continuing to play with the curse that dared to lay a finger on you. As you saw him rip the head off the curse and explode it into tiny pieces, you let out a sigh of relief knowing that thing was dead. The domain closed and your boyfriend ran over to you in a flash; you could tell Satoru was back.

Your Satoru.

So why did you feel uneasy when he loomed over you?

“Y/n, hey, you’ll be alright, just hang in there a sec, okay? We’re going to Shoko.”

As his long fingers reached toward you, your body reacted before you could think rationally about your actions.

You flinched.

You saw the hurt flash across his face, apparent only for a second before it was gone in an instant as he scooped you up. Satoru was feeling a multitude of emotions at that point. He was grateful that the curse was laughably weak and couldn’t land a single blow on him or else he probably wouldn’t have enough energy to teleport you back to the school like he was currently doing. However, he was taken aback by your reluctance to let him near you. Why did you have such a visceral reaction to him reaching for you?

Was it you being afraid of him accidentally hurting you with all your injuries?

Or was it you afraid of him hurting you…

On purpose?

You had fallen unconscious as he hauled you into Shoko’s office, laying your body on a table so she could heal you. He took a seat on an extra chair, a frown settling on his typically smiling face. Beside the glaringly obviously shitty fact that his partner was seemingly now afraid of his touch (or him as a whole), he hated seeing you like this, bruised and bloodied, especially due to a clerical error. You shouldn’t have been sent there at all, certainly not by yourself anyway, and if he hadn’t gotten there when he did… Satoru shook his head to clear the thought.

“They’ll be fine. If you had waited any longer, they wouldn’t have made it.”

Shoko rested a hand on Satoru’s shoulder, his gaze set on your unmoving body.

“They’ll wake up soon. I’m going for a smoke.”

A few minutes after she left, you began to stir. The cold table jolted you awake and you sat up in an instant, wondering if you were still in the midst of a battle. When you saw you were in a sterile room and Satoru’s blindfold over his eyes, you registered that you were safe and remembered the fight was over.

“Glad to see you’re awake. I was missing seeing those beautiful eyes of yours,” Satoru said, but his tone was anything but playful.

“Satoru, I-”

“Why did you flinch?”

You were quiet, stunned at his outright question and it prompted him to ask again, urgency lacing every word.

“When I reached for you back there. Why did you flinch?”

The truth had to come out now, there was no way for you to avoid answering. Not when he was staring you down, the blindfold doing nothing to lessen the intensity.

“Satoru, you… you scared me.”

The frown was back on his face. “What, like because you thought I was going to hurt you? Or like… hurt you, hurt you?”

His heart was pounding a mile a minute. He’d manage to keep most people at arm’s length his entire life, only letting a certain few get close to him as to avoid getting hurt. Now, waiting to hear your admission, he regretted ever daring to fall in love or thinking he could get some semblance of a happy ending in this messed up world.

“I… I just… I didn’t know at the time.”

You couldn’t bear to look at him, ashamed of your confession, so you kept your eyes on your fiddling hands.

He stood up with a loud screech of the chair as he nervously ran his fingers through his hair.

“Fuck, my own partner doesn’t even know if I’m going to hurt them,” he said, a bitter chuckle leaving his throat. “I can save you from a curse that’s about to kill you and yet you still don’t feel safe if I’m around.”

“What? Satoru, stop, I had just gotten my ass kicked by a special grade and I was delirious from blood loss. That’s not what I meant.”

“Isn’t it?” he cried out, desperation leaking from him like a broken faucet. “I could kill you right now without breaking a sweat. I have a power that no sorcerer or curse can match. I can annihilate entire countries if I wanted to, y/n, and you’re telling me you’d be completely fine taking me back to your apartment for dinner and a movie right now? You think my abilities cease when I’m not actively fighting a curse?”

“You scared me back there because you were murderous, Satoru,” you seethed, “and because not everyone is some god amongst men like you. I watched my boyfriend toy with a special grade curse like it was nothing. The same curse that nearly took my life and left me bleeding out on the ground, alone. So yes, at that moment, I was scared. I’m sorry for upsetting you, I-”

“See? That’s the thing. I don’t want to scare you but I can and I will and I fucking hate it! Don’t you see how shitty that makes me feel? You’re the one person that I never want to feel afraid of me.” Satoru’s voice cracked and he took a deep breath, calming himself down a little before continuing. “I went ballistic because that curse almost killed you. It needed to suffer for trying to take away the thing I hold dearest in this world. I don’t know what it’s like to lose in a battle of jujutsu, and I probably never will. I just know that I want to keep you safe and I will do whatever I must to make that happen.”

“I get that, Satoru, believe me,” you replied, finally looking at him. You could tell he was distraught and you understood why. You couldn’t imagine the weight he held on his shoulders as the strongest, not to mention how his (justifiably) large ego made it difficult to empathize and connect with others at times. However, you knew that the man in front of you was not the killing machine that relished in the pain he inflicted on others. The man in front of you was your loving boyfriend, the one who sent you funny cat videos and pouted when he couldn’t buy copious amounts of sweets at the store. Even though they were the same person, you knew that there was a time and place for both iterations of the man and they would both do everything in their power to keep you happy and safe. You reached out your hand to his cheek and this time it was him who flinched as your delicate touch landed on his skin.

“You are prideful, egotistical, and often arrogant. You don’t take criticism well or understand that there’s a time and place for jokes. You like to show off your immense power and yes, oftentimes it scares the shit out of me.”

He raised an eyebrow at you. “You’re not making me feel any better.”

“But,” you said, your thumb softly swiping along his jaw, “I know underneath all of that lies a good heart. You are a good man, Satoru, one that I’m proud to love. I know you wouldn’t hurt me on purpose, okay? In that moment, when I flinched, it wasn’t only you specifically, but the situation as a whole that I was scared of. You’re a total menace when you’re mad.”

You gave him a kiss on the cheek and he leaned into it ever so slightly.

“But you were also totally hot as you ripped the head off that curse for me. I trust you with my life, forever and always. I’m sorry if I made you feel like I don’t.”

Satoru accepted your apology internally, opting to instead do what he did best—crack a joke and lighten the mood.

“It was agonizing watching my favorite cuddle buddy pull away from me, I felt like I needed Shoko to heal my own wounds,” he said, pouting. You shook your head and let out a small laugh, making Satoru genuinely smile for the first time that day. He may not do everything right in a relationship, or completely understand how to relate to other people, but he’d be damned if he let you die before he could try to learn.