#if i DO have it then it'll be an easier time than last time when i started developing symptoms on my way home from hawaii

[pink-amethyst-tarot]

Have you given up on love? This is for you - Pick A Pile

take a deep breath and choose which pile you think is the best for you

I know I channeled these songs but I'm pro-boycott

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P I L E 1 ~ P I L E 2 ~ P I L E 3

P I L E 1 - Go Through Something To Get Somewhere

Three of Wands, Page of Cups, Four of Wands, The Lovers

Signs this reading is for you: 111, 11:11, classic books, jewelry (especially rings), money/coins, coffee, tea

You about to be mad at me.... Thing is, this big love you're looking for can't come in right now. It's being blocked because you still need to work on yourself. I feel like some of y'all already knew I was gon say that anyway! Fall in love with yourself and not for the sake of getting closer to falling in love because then your effort is meaningless. Do it for you and if you don't want to do it for you, figure out why. Do the shadow work. You need you more than you know. Figuring out what is so lovable about you will show you what you really deserve in a relationship, not what you have always thought that you deserve.

Once you do, it's going to happen when you least expect it and when it does you will be swept away in this amazing love. The kind of love that changes you for the better. The kind of love that you grow old with. The kind of love that you have always wanted but never believed that you were good enough to have. This person is your soulmate and they want to be with you just as much you want to be with them. Don't let something good pass you by and then you have to wait another entire lifetime to get it again. The first step starts with you.

Also, you cannot be afraid of change if you want this to work. You can't expect thing to change while everything stays the same. Accept that change can be uncomfortable, challenging, and sometimes, downright hellish. You have to go through something to get somewhere.

Channeled Song: End Game by Taylor Swift ft. Future and Ed Sheeran

I wanna be your end game // I wanna be your first string

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P I L E 2 - It's Gotta Get Bad Before It Gets Good

Wheel of Fortune, Six of Pentacles, The Emperor, King of Cups, Eight of Swords

Signs this reading is for you: Heart Chakra, 222, frogs, owls, hears, butterflies

You're heart is still broken from your last relationship and you're convinced that there isn't anyone who will give you the love that you want or deserve. There is someone for you who want to take care of you and be your rock. This love that wants to come in is very mature and long-lasting but it can't come in if you don't try to move on. I know it's easier said than done but at some point you have to choose yourself; at some point you have to choose your happiness.

You could also be someone that is trying to ignore how you feel about the end of a relationship so that you can get to the good part. I hate to be the one to tell you this, but, it doesn't work like that. You have to go through to get through it.

All in all, you may feel stuck or trapped by your emotions but the way out is more obvious than you think. Maybe not easy but definitely obvious. Once you get through the bad part, there is good ahead for you.

Channeled Song - Better In Time by Leona Lewis

thought I couldn't live without you // it's gonna hurt when it heals, too // it'll all get better in time // and even though I really love you // I'm gonna smile 'cause I deserve to // It'll all get better in time

P I L E 3 - You're not looking for love but love is looking for you

Ten of Wands, Three of Pentacles, Knight of Wands, Nine of Cups

Signs this reading may be for you: pink, boy bands, joking and laughter, pickles, oranges, Vaseline weird dreams

So, off the bat, this reading feels different from the other two because it feels like it doesn't matter what your reason for giving up on love is because love is coming your way, whether you like it or not! You have probably been through a lot in love and in life but you never gave up. You have always keep going despite what you have been through but that may have led you to feel that some things just can't have your attention right now because shit needs to get done. Great news! The shit is done! You're ready! This person is coming in quickly and is someone that supports you and wants to be the person that you come to when life is hard. This person is a dream come true. You may have not be actively focusing on what you want in a person, but sometimes our hearts speak louder to the universe than we do. I can see your guides kind of seeing you get this and you being surprised but your guides are looking all smug like "hah! bet you didn't see that comin did ya!?" Even though you're reading this, you may still be surprised when it happens because you may not 100% believe this reading. But it's true and it's yours! Love is on the way, baybee!

Channeled Song - Case 143 by Stray Kids

why do I keep getting attracted? // 자석 같이 끌려가 // I cannot explain this reaction // 이것밖에 one-four-three // Why do I keep getting attracted? // 네 모습만 떠올라 // I cannot explain this emotion // one-four-three I love you! //

translated lyrics:

why do I keep getting attracted? // I'm drawn to you like a magnet // Why do I keep getting attracted? // you're the only one on my mind // I cannot explain this emotion // one-four-three, I love you! //

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LEGAL DISCLAIMER: FOR ENTERTAINMENT PURPOSES ONLY. THESE READINGS ARE FOR ENTERTAINMENT PURPOSES ONLY. no guarantees are implied. These readings are not a substitute or replacement for any professional help or services. My readings are not a substitute for any form of professional legal, medical/psychiatric, relationship, religious/spiritual or financial/ business advice nor consultations. You should always see a professional legal/trained adviser for help in any matter. I am not responsible for any decisions/ actions you take.

[drdemonprince]

Annual seasonal change anon:

Another thing is, and I say this as someone who approaches a lot of topics from a kind of literature-and-writing point of view, but I also think some of how I cope with change is by structuring a narrative around it so that it becomes a process, rather than an instant. I don't know if that will make sense or be useful to other people.

Like, essays have an introduction, body paragraphs, and a conclusion. Stories have a beginning, middle and end. In terms of human cognition, we can form an understanding of the world around us by simplifying and structuring things so that we can interpret it more easily. And one of the common structures is schemas or maps which are kind of spatial in terms of how we relate concepts to each other and interact with them, and another is scripts which are sequential and based on multiple, linked events happening over time. And a lot of human communication can be analysed in terms of being a script with a beginning, middle and end, it's just that the amount of time and detail spent on the different stages will vary based on purposes and social contexts.

And I think it's really common in Autistic social circles to talk about how useful it is to see examples of scripts, eg for particular kinds of social interactions. But that isn't often explicitly connected to the concept of a script being a cognitive structure that humans find useful, where there's an overall structure of beginning, middle, and end, and within that, you have a more detailed outline and some things are optional and some things depend on each other etc but you can more easily fit things together and make sense of them if you have a sense of how to structure it.

I think (for me personally, at least, of course) it becomes overwhelmingly much harder to deal with change if there isn't a script. When I sit down and articulate the process, so there's the beginning before the change, the process of change in the middle, and at the end the change has more or less finished happening and we've ended up in a different situation, it becomes much easier to grasp. But if I don't consciously think about this stuff, and automatically think about change as an instantaneous moment where there's a before and after but the change itself is just BAM! without context or connections, I'm more stressed.

So the seasonality thing is about conceptualising things as repeating cycles and deliberately using past experience to increase my sense of familiarity and control - or addressing a new situation as "the first example of its type" and taking notes that I can draw upon in the future (have done that with overwhelming situations like camping and moving house, and the idea of having preparedness in the future helped me calm down the emotions around unfamiliarity of the present).

But there's also some type of time-blindness or collapsing of time that I seem to do, and if I stop and organise all the things in my head into a type of process, that expands time and structures it and it's both emotionally and cognitively easier for me to handle it and have a sense of control and actually be able to develop coping methods.

I know this is a bit abstract, I don't know if it'll either make sense or seem useful to others. But "conceptualising things as a process" is a load-bearing part of how I approach change, including very overwhelming and distressing examples of change. It really helps me.

This makes perfect sense to me, and seems useful! I think I do a lot of similar stuff with social fluctuations, too. You eventually get to learn the social behaviors and verbal patterns that suggest the party is one hour away from ending, people are finishing their last drinks, it's time to clean up, it's time for people to chat for another forty minutes in the doorway, etc. Marking these moments as expected stages of the progression helps keep me from feeling AS waylaid when the "end time" of an event extends way past what was scheduled, because people *always* take longer than they say they will and so I can just expect it instead of believing what they say. Even larger changes like a person moving out / moving away has little quiet stages you can learn to listen to, too.

[youremyonlyhope]

There is a nonzero chance that I have COVID.

Yayyyyyyyy.

Let's hope it's just a cold...

[simpjaes]

how about when the hyung line is just too big for ur little tight cunt? need the mtl please bcs I think it'll be HOT!

hyung line + cock too big, pussy too little syndrome ™

warning: size kink, reader is described as small compared to each member, use of words like: little, tiny, small, tight, kinda dub con. note: this is not an mtl, it's just a drabble for each hyung line hottie.

★ heeseung:

Fuck.

Heeseung knew he was bigger than average but...fuck. When he brought you home from the party he honestly expected you to be able to take it. All of it in one go, really. But no. Barely half of his cock is in you and you're shaking. Clinging to him with a pained look on your face, taking in deep breaths to adjust only to moan out of pain when he tries to push in a little more.

It's kind of driving him fucking wild. Especially in the way he's used to hearing girls moan and groan about how perfectly sized he is, about how big and painful it can be. You though, you can barely fucking take it, unlike those other girls.

Goddamn.

"Yeah." He starts, looking you straight in your teary eyes as he painfully presses in further. "Gonna open that pussy up for me, aren't you?"

You frantically nod, feeling his cock reach so deep inside of you, feeling his girth nearly tear you apart. It's like with each little push, he hits a wall that should tell him to stop, but he only pushes further. Past the block and penetrating your soft and insanely tense walls.

"Tiny." He grits his teeth, pushing, pushing, pushing until he's stuffed his entire length in you. "So fucking tiny."

☆ jay:

"Just a little more," Jay coos at you, rubbing your waist as he slowly presses in. "Hold onto me." He knows well enough that it doesn't feel good for you. Not yet at least. And when he watches you shake your head, trying hard to breathe through the feeling of his thick and darkened head pushing and prodding you open, he can't help but continue to talk you through it. "No?" He whispers in his own half-moan, still pressing in, inch by inch. "I'm already almost in baby, you can take it." He's right about it too, seeing as how you've taken it before. Given, that was only once considering this is only the second time you've hooked up with him. You're not sure why you called him of all people, remembering how difficult it was to get his full cock inside of you last time and the soreness that came after. Then again, maybe it's because of his consistent texting since that night. Not even sexting either. Just gentle conversation, interesting conversation. Like maybe this doesn't need to be a hook-up sooner or later. Who knows? And it continues like this. He presses an inch in, pauses, lets your tight cunt jerk him off, then he tells you to breathe and pushes in another inch. You're so wet too, he's practically obsessed. Never has a pussy so small taken him in full like this, then again, it's not like he's ever been with someone this tight and this fucking tiny. Obsessed is right. No matter how fucking wet you get for him, it doesn't make the slide any easier, even when you're relaxed, you're still so tight around him. Just like now, where he can finally move and fuck you without holding himself back. Which is hard to do, mind you. You cling to him through each painful and bruising thrust, and he lets you. Flexing every muscle in his body so you have something to really hold on to.

And god the way you moan through the pain. He would make you cum in an instant, he thinks, with the way you start moving your own hips to match his rhythm.

The wet sound squelching, like music to his ears especially when paired with your needy whines. "Feels so good, doesn't it baby?"

★ sunghoon:

All day. All fucking day Sunghoon could do this if that's what it takes. Three weeks since you started dating, the first time you had his cock in your hand was also the first time you decided to be afraid to let him fuck you. Something so huge cannot naturally fit inside of you without him blatantly impaling you and probably landing you in the hospital. But god, does he know how to get you horny. With those pretty fingers offering just not enough to be satisfied. With his tongue swiping perfectly but never being filled to full capacity. It's the first time you've even considered letting him stick his dick in you, and arguably, you see why you avoided it until now when he finally does start sliding in. It's not that the thickness hurts, it's just that fact that the fucking slide never stops. You could have sworn he had his whole dick in you ten seconds ago, considering he fucked himself in and out of you a few times before sliding in more. The reach is deeper than you've ever felt. A sharp pain hitting you right in the center of the gut only for him to manage to push in even further. You swear he's breaking something in you and he isn't even actually fucking you just yet. "There you go." Sunghoon coos once he finally bottoms out in you, reaching his hand forward to trace his fingers along your lips. "See? You can take it, love." For just a second, you believed him. But then he started fucking moving. God, you're seeing stars and planets and heaven and hell all in one thrust. He pulls his hips back so far just to slam into you. He knows it hurts too, but he can't be gentle when you're looking like this. So small lying under him, just fucking taking it.

☆ jake:

Jake barely realized you were in pain before he felt your fingernails scratching down his back and you whimpered out a small "take it out." He pulled back to look at you in shock, rutting his hips back and forth into your swollen and glistening hole. It's only been a few seconds since he pushed in, and it's the first time he's ever been asked to take it out?! For you though, you were expecting him to take it slow. Not get between your legs and fucking sink into you without so much as letting you adjust to his size before pounding it into your cervix. He does as he's told though, sliding out just as painfully as he slid in before gripping his cock and holding it just at your entrance. "What? Why?" He asks, not realizing he had knocked the breath out of himself stuffing such a cock in that tight space. "You're...big," You look away from him, feeling embarrassed that you really just told him to fucking pull out. "Too big." Only now does Jake smile, a glint in his eye growing dark and even more aroused than he already was.

"Oh, yeah?" He smiles, teasing your hole with the head of his cock. "You don't think you can take it?" He continues, pressing right back into you and now relishing in that small, tight heat you wish he'd be gentle with. You shake your head frantically, opening your mouth in a silent sob as he uses you, slamming in and out. In, out, in, out. "You already are, babe." He grunts, hunching over to attach his lips to your nipple. "Taking it so fucking well too." You're not sure why that makes you feel proud, but it does.

[transmascsteveharrington]

Steve grows up thinking that love can be earned. That it has to be earned. That if he is quiet and polite, invisible most of the time and puts on his too-tight white button-downs without making a fuss, his mother will call him good and while she won't say it directly, Steve takes her approval for love.

His father is harder to please, for a while it's winning sport trophies and talking about taking out pretty girls. But as time goes on, Steve learns that disappointment is far quicker and far more willing given than love. Love can also be taken away like a toy from a naughty child.

Despite trying his best to keep earning his parents' love it keeps slipping away from him more and more often, like smoke through delicate fingers. Steve doesn't know what he is doing wrong, just assumes that he isn't good, that he doesn't deserve their love. It never occurs to him that they simply might be incapable of it, hollow, cold, harsh caves that echo where their hearts should beat.

So Steve tries to get it elsewhere. Tommy and Carol's love is easier to earn. Drive them places, pay for their food, get them booze and let them throw parties at his pool. Be mean and arrogant, laugh at jokes that make him feel sick to his stomach and do it all with a smile. Keep them happy and they'll keep loving him. He never quite figures out how he earned Nancy's love and it makes him antsy. Not knowing how to ensure that she'll keep loving him. He only realizes once they break up that the reason he never knew how to make her keep loving him was that she never loved him in the first place.

The kids are easy: be a human shield for them, beat monsters with a baseball bat, get tortured by Russians for them. If danger isn't around the corner it's driving them to the arcade, paying for their food, letting them hang out in the cold, desolate house that once they are gone echos just as much as the caves in his parents' chests. It's not that different from how he kept Tommy and Carol loving him. Only that it feels different, better. Steve doesn't have to force smiles, still recognizes the person in the mirror when he hangs out with the kids. He has fun too, would still do all these things if it didn't earn him the kids' love.

It's nice. Almost. If it wasn't for the constant fear that one day he'll say the wrong thing, bring them the wrong snack and all of that love will go poof.

Robin just like Nancy, Steve can't figure out. And it's fucking terrifying because he doesn't think he's ever loved a friend hell not just a friend, anyone, the way he has loved her. There are days he wants to crawl into her skin and make a home hoping it'll be enough to make her stay. Though a home never made his parents stay either. He knows the day he is going to lose her love, he will completely fall apart.

Eddie, Steve is slowly figuring out. Or at least he thinks he is. It's hard to tell with Eddie sometimes. On one hand, it's easy, Steve knows how to please partners in a relationship, knows how to be a good boyfriend. And Eddie clearly seems to enjoy the way Steve keeps trying to earn his love. On the other hand being a good boyfriend had already once not been enough.

It all comes down to it when Eddie and Steve end up in a stupid fight. Steve can't even remember what it started or who started it, all he knows that when Eddie says, "I need a smoke," and moves towards the door, panic closes around Steve's throat like a hand and squeezes tightly. If Eddie goes out of the door, if he leaves, he might not come back. It's been over six months since Steve last saw his parents.

"I'm sorry," he yells, tears already spilling over the corners of his eyes, running down his cheeks and pooling at his chin. He reaches for Eddie's wrist and Eddie instantly stops.

"I'm sorry, don't leave please! I'll make up for it, I promise. I'll be good. Perfect. Let me earn it again! Please!"

Eddie looks startled by Steve's outburst. He tucks his cigarette back into his pocket and pulls Steve into his arms.

"What? I'm not leaving! Steve," he says and cups Steve's wet face. Steve can't stop trembling. "What do you mean 'earn it again'?"

"Your love," Steve sniffs and buries his face in the crook of Eddie's neck, hoping, praying that it wasn't the wrong move. He knows he can be too clingy and he knows he can't afford to lose more of Eddie's love.

"My love? Baby," Eddie tightens his arms around Steve, "I'm not gonna stop loving you just because we're fighting. I love you even when I'm mad at you."

It draws a whole new wave of tears out of Steve and he does feel a bit like drowning. "And you don't have to earn my love, it's not fucking conditional," Eddie continues and presses a couple of soft kisses to Steve's hair.

"All my love is freely given. Not because you cook me dinner or let me pick movies or offer to blow me all the time. But because I love you, just you Steve. You don't even have to do anything. Just be yourself."

Eddie is crying now too, horrified that Steve went through his life in constant fear of love being taken away from him. Having to constantly bend and twist himself until he was broken just to earn crumbs of affection. It's a first step, one I love you doesn't undo years of trauma and fixes everything in an instant.

But Eddie vows he'll do everything he can to convince Steve that he is loved, so, so, so loved without having to grovel and beg for it. Without having to always be good and perfect.

And Robin and the kids make the same vow, heartbroken when they find out how scared Steve has been of losing them, how he thought they only kept him around in case of danger and because he had money.

It takes a while, but eventually, Steve starts to believe them. And if he ever has doubts or forgets everyone in his life is quick to remind him just how loved he is. Free of charge and indefinitely.

[usodeshou]

-

[muchosbesitos]

treat her better

pairing: miguel o’hara x fem reader

warnings: unprotected p in v (be smart 🤨), semi public sex, oral (f and m receiving), choking, smut, and angst

author’s note: hope you all enjoy <3 other woman pt 2 should be out by tmr or the day after 🫡

word count: 4.1k

Your relationship with Miguel was nothing short of difficult when it started, given that he was so detached from the Spider Society after the loss of his daughter. He was the definition of "all work and no play", coming to his office earlier than everybody else and being the last to leave and always rejecting to go out with the group out for drinks. Apart from distancing himself socially, he always found a way to distance himself from you specially at work, pairing you with someone else for missions. You'd given up on trying to form a friendship with Miguel after constant ignoring from him, seeing it as a pointless task.

One night, however, you were surprised to see him actually show up for drinks with you, Peter, and Jess. you figured that Peter probably had pestered him until he finally snapped and agreed, considering he didn't look all too pleased to be spending some time away from HQ. "Miguel, my man! Come, we'll get you set up with some beer," Peter greeted him, waving him to the table as some people around you all turned to look at the screaming man. Miguel shuffled uncomfortably to the table, the realization that the only seat available was between you and Jess hitting you hard. The scent of his cologne overpowered your nostrils, a little part of you surprised that he'd bothered to put this much effort into coming out tonight.

"Girl, you should find someone to spend time with tonight. I mean, when's the last time you got laid?" Jess asked you as she took a sip of her water, the topic of your dating life coming up sooner than you expected. "And you're sure that sleeping with some random man you met a bar is the best way to go?" miguel asked as he drank his beer, his voice more gruff than usual. "Would be better than the stick you have up your ass," you muttered, trying to ignore the way Miguel turned to look at you. You weren't one to shoot back at Miguel’s retorts but you were growing tired by the way he seemed to judge you for everything. From the way that you handled your missions now to where you met men. Luckily for you, Peter came back from the bathroom and started talking about what Mayday had accomplished today.

After a while of talking, you and Miguel were left alone since Jess was taking care of a crying Peter outside. As the two of you sat in silence, you couldn't help but steal a couple glances at Miguel, noticing how handsome he looked in the black button down he had on. "You should take a picture, it'll last longer," he spoke up after a while, his eyes boring into you as he did. You rolled your eyes at his retort, being reminded of the reason why'd you never be stupid enough to go after him. "God, you're such an asshole," you responded and he couldn't help but let out a small chuckle at how uncreative you'd been with the insult.

"Tell me, do you still think i'm asshole?" He purred in your ear after he locked the bathroom door. Even with his cock inside of you, he still found a way to get under your skin. You pushed your hips against his, eager to find some type of friction but your movements were quickly stopped when Miguel placed his hands on your hips. "So impatient," he whispered, his breath causing shivers all over your arms. You knew what he wanted you to do, he wanted you to put your pride aside and beg for him but you didn't want to relent. "This would be much easier if you just did what I told you," he told you, a small chuckle escaping from his lips when he saw your defenses start to weaken. He rolled his hips slowly, not enough to please you but just enough to have you wanting more. "Fine. Please just fuck me," you muttered through gritted teeth, already hating yourself for complying.

"See, now we're making progress. Unfortunately, that's not good enough. Beg like you mean it, chiquita," he responded, a small smirk tugging on his lips. You looked up at the mirror, wanting to punch his perfect face but you decided to comply once more. "Miguel, please. I need it," you whined, letting out a soft moan as he thrust his hips once more. "That wasn't so hard, was it?" He teased once more before he set a consistent pace. You hated yourself for submitting to him, in a bar bathroom to top it off, but the way he fucked you made you push those thoughts aside. His balls slapped against your thighs as your back arched while you held against the sink, your fingers rubbing your clit eagerly.

"Hey, are you in here?" Jess called out, knocking on the door and your eyes widened. You wanted to speak up and tell her yes, but you were more worried about letting out a loose moan. "You're gonna have to answer her," Miguel whispered tauntingly as he slowed down his pace. "Y-Yeah! I'm here," you called out to Jess, trying to keep your voice as even as possible. "I'm gonna go home, do you need a ride?" Jess asked, being the protective friend as always and you almost felt guilty for being in this circumstance. "No, I'll t-text you when i get home," you assured her, her footsteps retreating after.

Miguel’s hand went up to your throat, forcing you to look up at yourself in the mirror while he fucked you. Your lipgloss was all tainted from the angry makeout session you had with Miguel earlier and your mascara was rolling down your cheeks. "So pretty taking my cock," he whispered in your ear, his thrusts unrelenting as your walls squeezed around him. He squeezed at your throat gently, your cunt gushing all around his cock and he couldn't help but let out a small chuckle. "Should've known mi chiquita's into choking," he teased you, his other hand gripping your hips tightly. You let out a loud moan when his cock brushed up against your g-spot only for Miguel to shush you. "Wouldn't want anyone to hear you, hm? Now go ahead and rub your clit for me," he told you, the hand around your throat tightening up slightly.

Your orgasm approached you quickly, your release coating Miguel’s cock as he fucked you through it. He let out a small hiss as your walls clamped around his cock once more, his cum painting your walls white. He pulled out his cock a couple seconds later, grabbing a napkin to clean himself up without giving you a second glance. You were unsure of why you expected Miguel to act differently after you were done, but you couldn't help but feel upset at how quick he had left. You fixed up your lips and wiped away at the mascara dripping from your cheeks, trying to hide your disappointment as you walked out the bar.

Miguel, to no one's surprise, went back to ignoring you during work. You wished that it didn't bother you as much as it did, but a part of you still felt some type of longing towards him. You came back from your mission, staggering through the Society hallways as you headed toward the infirmary. The one time that miguel had spoken to you recently was to tell you to take someone else on the mission, but you decided to defy his orders. You removed the drenched cloth that you'd pressed against the gash as you leaned against the counter, throwing it in the sink. "I told you to take somebody, damn it!" You heard his voice before he came in, his nostrils flaring once he did. "It wasn't that bad, it's just a cut," you tried to downplay the situation despite the stinging pain you felt every time you moved.

You had finished up with cleaning up the gash to notice that Miguel was still standing there, his face contorted in a deep frown. "I didn't mean to snap at you. It's just I can't stand to lose you," he told you, your eyes widening as you looked up to make sure you'd heard him right. "I mean the society can't stand to lose you, as a collective," he clarified, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. You pursed your lips and nodded, not wanting to make things more awkward than they already were. You were about to leave when Miguel grabbed your arm, stopping you from grabbing the door knob.

"I know I've been acting like even more of an asshole after the bar, and I'm sorry. You don't deserve that. Can I take you out to make up for it?" He asked you, your mouth dropping a bit in surprise. "Like to hook up?" You asked him, unsure of what to make of the situation. "No, like a date. I've been meaning to ask you on one but i've chickened out. You obviously don't have to," he responded, completely taking you by surprise. Even though you had multiple questions running through your mind, the main one being 'why?', you decided to agree on going out with him.

Miguel took you to a restaurant he'd discovered in Queens one day, the atmosphere surprisingly pleasant for what part of town you were in. As the two of you shared a meal, you couldn't help but feel Miguel’s gaze on you once more. "Is there something on my face?" You asked him, a little embarrassed but he let out a small chuckle. "No. I just haven't taken the time to really look at your eyes. They're really beautiful under this lighting," he responds, taking a sip from his Coke. "You should cut them up and put them in a jar. Look at them everyday," you responded, using the same strategy he had at the bar. "I would but they look so much prettier when they're attached to your face," he responded, clearly amused by your statement.

The rest of the night was full of playful banter and teasing between the two of you, never a dull moment. Despite all the ways that miguel had found to piss you off and the constant avoiding he'd done, you found yourself wanting to know more and more about him as he shared. He offered you his coat once you two had left the restaurant, giving you a small kiss on the cheek before you two started the walk back home. "I really liked hanging out with you, chiquita. Would you like to go on another date?" He asked you once he escorted you to your room at the society, a hopeful smile on his face. "I'd love to," you responded, grabbing his shoulder and stood up on your tippy toes to kiss his cheek.

After that, you and Miguel found time to go on more dates and you couldn't help but fall in love with him a bit more with every bit that he shared. He was very easy to talk to when he wasn't agitated or annoyed, and he seemed to remember all the small details that you shared with him. He wasn't one for big romantic gestures, but he conveyed his emotions with every date that he took you on, treating you like you were the only person worth spending time with. Even members at the society had started to comment on how happy the two of you seemed together, Peter claiming that he knew this was bound to happen.

The first time that you and Miguel had sex as a couple was a complete 180 from the dusty, sticky bar bathroom. He'd decorated the room with some battery-powered candles and put some flowers on the nightstand to provide the perfect atmosphere. He laid you down on the bed when you came into the room, taking it slow as he kissed you. His hand up to your cheek, gently stroking it as his mouth completely invaded yours, taking as much as he could. His tongue and yours moved in perfect synchrony, soft moans escaping from your lips as he did. His lips moved down to your neck, leaving a couple open-mouthed kisses before biting down, wanting to mark you as much as possible. He was careful not to inject you with his venom as his fangs grazed through your skin, his tongue soothing the sting that his teeth had left.

He took his time undressing you, letting out a whistle as he saw the red lingerie you had put on just for him. "You look so pretty like this," he murmured against your skin, his hands moving down to your breasts. His hands lightly kneaded your tits through the bra, sometimes squeezing and tugging at them just so he'd feel them pebble up through your bra. He took it off after teasing your tits for a while, his mouth instantly attaching itself to the right one as he began his attack. His tongue ran over the pebbled nub while his hand massaged the other one, letting out a small chuckle at how you were squeezing your thighs already. Your hands instantly flew to his hair, tugging lightly as he bit down on the soft flesh, giving you a couple matching hickeys.

His fingertips hooked on your waistband before he slowly started to slip your panties off, putting them in his pocket for later use. He pressed small kisses on your thighs, spreading them wider as he got closer to your cunt. He bit down on the inside of your thigh, your hand instantly reaching down to grip his hair. "Prettiest pussy I've ever seen," he whispered before he started to slurp on the juices clinging to your folds. You let out a moan as his tongue sucked and slurped at your pussy, Miguel was eating you out like a man starved. You started grinding your hips against his face in hopes to get more friction but he pushed your legs down, keeping an iron grip on your thighs. "Be patient, corazón."

Miguel let out a small groan as your pussy clamped around his finger, barely open enough to take just one. He slowly started pumping it in and out of you, your soft whimpers filling his ears as he did. His mouth went over to your clit, giving it a couple kitten licks before flicking the neglected nub. Once he came to the realization that your pussy had opened up a bit more, he pushed a second finger in and curled them upwards to hit your g-spot with every pump he did. "Mig! Mig!" You moaned out, unable to say anything else as his fingers continued to thrust inside of you. "I know, chiquita. You're taking me so well," he cooed, the vibrations of his voice against your clit sending shivers down your spine. Your toes curled as you felt the coil inside of you tightening up, almost at at the point of snapping completely.

You came all around his fingers, your back hitting the bed once you did. He took his fingers out of your cunt and looked directly at you as he sucked off your juices. You took a couple seconds to come down from the euphoria that you'd felt before getting down on your knees in front of Miguel. He let out a small chuckle at your eager display, his hand coming to your cheek as he stroked it gently. "Qué bonita," he remarked, his cock twitching a bit in his boxers as he saw your doe eyes looking directly at him. (how pretty) You took your time taking off his boxers as he'd done with you, letting out a soft gasp when his cock hit his stomach.

Your tongue slowly swirled around the red tip, your fingers working the precum that had leaked out all throughout the shaft. Miguel kept his hand on your cheek as you started to suck him off, letting out a small hiss as you ran your tongue down the underside of his cock. You tried to fit him in all in your mouth, but you ended up with tears in your eyes as you gagged on it. "Always so greedy," Miguel commented, his hand on the back of your head as he eased you into it. You settled on taking what you could in your mouth for now and wrapping your hand around the base, both of them working in tandem to give Miguel the pleasure that he deserved.

You took his balls in your mouth, struggling to fit them both in your mouth as your hand stroked his cock, tightening up ever so slightly from time to time. Miguel let out soft moans as you did, his grip on the back of your head tightening up just the slightest bit. You flattened your tongue when he asked you to, your cheeks instinctively hollowing as he started to thrust his cock in your expecting mouth. "You were made for taking this cock, chiquita," he moaned as he started to speed up his thrusts, the tip of his cock hitting the back of your throat. You kept your eyes on him as he used your mouth like his own personal fleshlight, the sight just being enough to make him cum.

The cum dribbled down your chin as you struggled to contain it all in your mouth, only swallowing once Miguel allowed you to. He helped you get up from the floor, his hands on your hips as he kissed you, overwhelmed at the combined taste of you and him. "Get on your hands and knees," he told you, his cock already starting to get hard again for round two. You did as he told you, shaking your ass a bit as you waited for him to get on the bed. "Looks like iI'll have to fuck the impatience out of you," he told you before he slowly started to push his cock inside your pussy.

Your hands gripped the sheets as he started to thrust in and out of you slowly, the tip of his cock kissing your cervix every time. Miguel grabbed your hands, causing you to fall down on your stomach, and held them against your back as his heavy balls slapped against your pussy with every thrust. He couldn't help but let out a small laugh as he saw you wiggle underneath, your face contorted into one of pleasure. "Feels good, nena? Yeah?" He cooed, knowing that you couldn't let out anything but moans of his name at the moment.

You let out a louder moan when you felt one of the ridges of his cock brush up against your g-spot perfectly, your pussy clamping and gushing all over his cock. "Right there, Miguel!" You mewled as you cried onto the pillow, unable to do anything but take it. He sped up with his thrusts, fucking you like a rabbit in heat as he made it a goal to keep it at that angle. His other hand went down to your clit, rubbing small precise circles on it as your pussy clamped around him like a vice. You felt your orgasm approaching you quickly, your vision slowly starting to black out as you squeezed around him tightly.

Miguel came a couple seconds after you did, the part of him that wanted to see you swollen with his children and your tits full of milk fucking the cum back into you. He pulled out slowly, both of you letting out a small hiss as he did. He got both of you dressed and cleaned up before he laid in bed with you, holding you close to his chest as he started to draw small figures on your back with the tip of his talons. You felt a small shiver run down your back as he did but you felt assured that he wouldn't put enough pressure to actually cut you with them. You drifted off to sleep as soon as you closed your eyes, Miguel’s body heat providing you with warmth that no heated blanket could ever compare to.

Eventually after that night, your relationship with Miguel started deteriorating slowly. It started off slowly, with him not giving you small gifts that reminded you of him anymore to just flat out cancelling dates with you. You really tried to be understanding, knowing that he has a duty to the Spider Society and the multiverse, but you craved the warmth of just having your boyfriend around. It felt like he didn't need to put any effort now that he'd gotten to be with you, almost like he was reassured by the fact that you wouldn't leave him. The change in your mood was noticed by most of the members at the Society, most of them making up theories as to why you looked so upset all the time.

"Hey girl, what's going on?" Jessica approached you, sitting across the table as you ate your empanada. "Nothing's going on. How's it going with the baby?" You tried to deflect away from her question but the look on her face was telling you that she wouldn't allow it. The two of you stayed silent for a couple seconds, just looking at each other until one broke first. "It just feels like Miguel stopped putting in the effort into our relationship, like it didn't matter once we had sex. And I keep making up excuses for every time that he ends up not showing up to our dates but I don't know how much longer I can keep doing this," you confided in her, her eyes softening up as you finished speaking. This was why you didn't want to share your problems, you didn't want to get that look of pity.

"Look, Miguel may be my friend and all but I've gotta tell you, he's a serious workaholic with no idea how to prioritize what's important to him. If this continues, you'll just end up making more and more excuses for him and you'll end up unhappy. Just wait out to see what happens for a little bit longer before you make any rash decisions though," she offered a bit of advice, rubbing your shoulder as she left. You took her words into consideration, knowing that she had a point but you couldn't help feeling like you were betraying Miguel by ending things.

As you waited in the couch of your apartment, you couldn't help but feel a sense of disappointment when Miguel had failed to show up once more. You were starting to fall asleep when the bright flashing lights from the portal woke you, Miguel’s tall frame looming over you. "Sorry I couldn't make it. I got busy with taking care of an anomaly," he told you and you didn't have in you to argue anymore, so you simply nodded. "It's okay, Miguel," you told him despite the pain you felt in your chest as you looked at him. "I’ll make up to you, I promise," he told you, dipping his head down to kiss your forehead before walking off to the bedroom.

You called off the following days from work, wanting to clear your mind far from Miguel as you considered if this was truly what you wanted from a relationship. While the idea of leaving Miguel behind you was painful, you couldn't help but wonder if you were only sticking around for the memories. If it was because of wishful thinking that he'd come around to being the sweet, loving boyfriend he'd once been to you. You decided to call Miguel over that night to see if you could try to talk things out with him, how your relationship could be better.

"Look, just because you took time off work doesn't mean that everyone has the damn luxury to skip out whenever they want. Now, what did you call me over about?" Miguel asked you once he arrived at your apartment, his attention still on that stupid gizmo. You quickly came to the realization as you really took the time to look at him for the first time in a while that this relationship would never be a priority to him and that you'd been stupid enough to hope that he would change. "Well? I was in the middle of a briefing," he told you, tapping his foot on the floor expectedly as he folded his arms. You kept your voice even as you spoke the next sentence, not wanting to end on a bad note with him by yelling.

"I want to break up with you, Miguel."

[kamiversee]

➶-͙˚ ༘✶ 𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝙁*𝘾𝙆 𝙇𝙄𝙎𝙏

✧.* CHAPTER 23 || The Party Era

[ { SYPNOSIS } ] ➤ A tale in which Gojo Satoru blackmails you into seducing a list of people to clear his debt. Sounds easy enough, right?

[ { CHAPTER CONTENT } ] ➤ language,  fluff, violence, drugs, & slight mention of alcohol consumption.

[ { WORD COUNT } ] ➤ 4.8k

[ { PAIRINGS } ] ➤ jjk men x f!reader. gojo x f!reader. geto x f!reader. toji x f!reader. choso x f!reader. sukuna x f!reader. nanami x f!reader.

[ [ chapters mlist } ]

——AFTER THAT INTIMATE morning, you and Gojo consider yourselves to be on decent enough terms. Of course, you still hate him-- or, at least you think you do, and he slowly begins to change in a good way.

When he talks to you, which is more often than before since you're no longer trying to ignore his existence unless necessary, his tone is always soft and filled to the brim with affection. You try not to bring up the fact that he claimed to be in love with you but it was extremely difficult not to think about it.

Blackmail or not, you can't just ignore his confession.

Shoko mentioned that he was in love with you before but you didn't want to believe her so, now that he's told you, you genuinely don't know how to feel.

His words echo in your brain constantly, so much so that it grows annoying. It's like you can't unhear it-- Gojo really said he was in love with you. It wasn't a dream, wasn't something someone else told you he said, and it wasn't a lie, Gojo Satoru confessed his love to you.

You hate it though.

You despise the fact that he loves you. To you, it's almost entitled for him to feel like he has that right. How dare he hold such a strong emotion for you? If he felt this way, why is he forcing you to sleep with people for him? It makes no sense.

Why would someone claim to love you and put you through so much?

If he's been in love with you all this time, why start the list in the first place? Why couldn't he have just tried to win your heart from the beginning? Why the list? Why the blackmail? You don't understand him.

A sigh escapes you as you think about it. By this point in time, it's roughly been two weeks since that faithful morning and you can't stop thinking about it. You have so many questions, wondering to yourself when it'll all make sense.

Then, there's also the longing you feel in your chest to see Choso again.

Of course, you haven't stopped thinking about him. You can't wait for the list to be over. The fact that there are only two people left makes it feel like a lot less pressure on you.

From here on out, you just want everything to go smoothly-- that's all you ask for.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆ .　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

In the two weeks you spent at peace with Gojo, you and him have talked about who your next target should be; Sukuna or Nanami?

He tried to explain that Sukuna would be easier than Nanami but you quickly told him that you're not sure you trust his difficulty levels when no one you've seduced has been that hard. Well, with the exception of Mr. Fushiguro, seducing him took weeks of you pretending you had some kind of assignment to complete.

But even so, you still managed to pull that off. If anything, you felt a little more confident in yourself about seducing the last two people, thinking it'd be a nice walk in the park from here on out.

With this newfound confidence in yourself, you tried telling Gojo that it didn't matter which order you seduced the last two in. "Almost every difficulty level you've given me so far has been wrong, y'know..." You told him over the phone.

Though you couldn't see it, his lips pulled into a pout, "That's not true, sweets... Suguru was medium, no?"

"No, Satoru, he was easy..." You hum, "The only reason he'd be considered anything close to medium is because I had to get used to his uhm... teasing."

Gojo smiles foolishly at the way you say his name, his heart swelling in his chest over such a simple conversation with you, "Yeah, yeah, whatever." He hums, "Anyway, it's still up to you who you wanna go for first, I was just sayin' Sukuna will be easier."

You sigh, "How so?"

"Well for starters, he's having a party this Thursday so like..." Gojo shrugs sheepishly on the other side of the phone, "If you're free, you could come there with me and meet him."

"Uhuh... And what about Nanami?" You question as you jot things down in your journal, your body comfortably laid out across your bed.

"Hmmmm..." Gojo hums dramatically in thought, "I think there's a bar he goes to every weekend?"

"You think?" Your eyes narrow, "I need you to be sure."

"I'm like ninety-nine point nine percent sure." He says, "He goes on Friday nights so, y'know..."

"Are you suggesting that I formally meet Sukuna and Nanami, then decide who I want to sleep with first?" You ask for clarification.

"Pretty much, yeah."

You look around your room for a second in thought before shrugging, "Alright, sounds like a plan."

Gojo smiles, "Really? So... you do realize this means you'll be going to a party with me, right?"

"Okay?"

Curiosity sparks within him, "Do you even like parties?"

"Eh, I haven't had enough friends to want to go recently. But, I used to go to them a lot during Freshman year." You explain casually, earning a hum from him.

"Aww, and you didn't invite meee?" Gojo whines.

"I didn't know you, Satoru..." You sigh, finding yourself smiling ever so slightly at his silliness, "We literally met this semester."

"Sure about that?" He asks as if you don't recall talking to him for the first time early that August.

"Uhm, yes?" You arch a brow, "What, do you remember us talking before this year or something?"

"Nah." He hums, "But I do remember seeing you around a lot."

You begin to close your journal, "Really?"

"Mhm."

"And you never said hi?" You tease, mocking his earlier joke to you.

Gojo chuckles nervously, "I was too shy."

"Oh please." Your eyes roll, "You? Shy? Yeah right." A scoff leaves your lips in reaction to his claims.

"I'm serious." He emphasizes.

"Whatever..." You decide to brush off the topic. The phone call has lasted long enough so, you try to end it, "Anywho, we have a plan all worked out so text me the details for this party and I'll see you then."

"Aww," Gojo pouts again, "You're hanging up so soon?"

"Yes."

"C'mon, I wanted to talk some more..."

You scoff and your voice is sarcastic as you respond, "Skill issue."

Gojo bursts out laughing, "Seriously?"

"Suck it up pretty boy," You joke further, "We'll talk later."

He smiles from ear to ear, "Oh? You think I'm pretty?"

"Bye Satoru." You say flatly.

He sighs heavily and gives up, "Bye sweetheart." There's then a second of silence as you move the phone away from your ear but his next words make you freeze, "I love you."

Your heart pulses strongly, "...If you're expecting me to say it back, you're going to be disappointed."

He chuckles lightly, "I don't expect you to say it back, jus' want to make sure you don't forget."

You couldn't possibly forget that. "Right, okay, bye." The phone is quickly removed from your ear to end the call and then you toss the device across the bed.

Your heart is beating so rapidly for some reason. You do not feel the same way for him but that doesn't change the fact that hearing those words from someone makes you feel all tingly inside.

After only a second or two of gushing at his words, you return to your usual neutral mindset and pick your journal up. Your body slides off the bed and you walk to the drawer you keep it in, making sure to lock it as you place the item inside. Then, you sigh and head back to your bed.

Flopping down face first, you groan into your pillow-- wondering how the rest of this will play out. It feels weird to be on speaking terms with Gojo again. You can't exactly say you missed it but you also couldn't say you didn't enjoy it, even though the conversation wasn't long.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆ .　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

With that, the rest of the week leading up to Thursday went by in a blur like always. Your schoolwork hardly ever overwhelmed you since you had that very well organized and for once, life somewhat felt like it was entering an era of peace again.

However, deep down inside you still missed Choso.

Not talking to him daily or hardly ever anymore really made you remember how boring your free time was. Perhaps that's why Thursday came so fast...

You stood in front of your bathroom mirror, your hands tracing over the silhouette this expensive dark red dress provided for you-- the item being something Gojo bought for you the very second you told him you weren't sure what to wear.

For someone who so easily deposited money into your account every time you slept with someone and bought you things the very second you made even the slightest complaint, you wondered what the hell he was in debt for.

Perhaps all of the people on the list truly couldn't be paid with money? Even so, you can't help but question what the hell he did to these men to the point where payment in the form of sexual satisfaction was established.

Toji is the only person on the list that you know the backstory for but, even then you still don't know how sexual satisfaction was agreed as a method of payment. And to add to those questions, does Gojo tell the men after you sleep with them that you were his form of payment?

If so... wouldn't that technically mean Choso should know about that?

You groan slightly as you get confused just thinking about it. It's like you're missing so much information here. The entire thing is steadily starting to make less and less sense as you go on. Not to mention the fact that he said he deleted the video of you a long time ago.

Does that mean he considered letting you go from the list? How long has he had the video erased from his phone?

You finally shake out of your thoughts when the man in question sends you a text, the chime from your cell prompting you to turn your head to the idle device on your bathroom counter. You pick it up to see a simple text that reads; 'I'm downstairs, sweetheart'.

You simply leave the man on read before making sure you have everything and heading out of your bathroom. Once you make it out of your bedroom, you spot Shoko typing away on her laptop in the living room.

The sound of you closing your room door makes her turn her head back to look at you. She gives you a wolf whistle and flashes that pretty smile of hers at you, "Heyyy beautiful." She greets teasingly.

You smile, "Hey roomie, how do I look?"

"For a party hosted by Sukuna, I'd say pretty damn good." It's no surprise that she knows who's hosting the party you're going to, Shoko always seems to be up to date with those kinda things.

A chuckle leaves your lips while you make your way to the front door, "Thank you but, I'm surprised you're not coming."

She shrugs, "I have like four assignments due tonight and my professor is a complete bitch about turning things in late." A little frown pulls at her lips, "Any other day, I'd totally go with you though."

"Maybe next time," You suggest, smiling at her, "Oh, and, I know this is a weird question but like, do you know his full name?"

"Who, Sukuna?" Shoko asks, raising a brow.

"Yeah." You nod. The memory of Choso hardly ever speaking about the guy he's supposedly related to runs through your head and you find it odd since he always seems so family-orientated.

"Itadori Sukuna, last time I checked." Shoko informs you, "But if you call him by his last name he'll be a dickhead about it. I think he hates it 'cause that's what connects him to his younger brother or something."

You blink. That somewhat explains a few things, "Damn, you sure know a lot..."

Shoko winks, "Benefits of going to parties to be nosy, you should do it more often."

With a laugh, you nod your head, "Well, thanks for that."

She flashes you one last smile and then raises her hand to wave you bye as you open the door and exit the apartment.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆ .　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

When you get downstairs and to Gojo's car and quickly seat yourself in the passenger seat, his eyes are all over your appearance like he's starstruck.

A handsome smile spreads across his face, "You're absolutely breathtaking, y'know that?" Gojo complements.

You roll your eyes and begin putting your seatbelt on, "Seeing as you're able to speak perfectly fine, it doesn't sound like I'm all that breath-taking." You fire in response.

He chuckles and his bright blue eyes slip up and down your body, "You didn't hear the way I choked when I saw you walking toward the car."

"Aw, did you?" You respond mockingly.

"Mhm..." He hums lowly, suddenly focusing more on your face. His head is resting on the palm of his hand as he leans against the console in between the two of you.

You swallow and then just barely turn your face to him, "Plan on staring at me all night?"

"If I had the option to, I definitely would," Gojo says honestly.

You roll your eyes at him again and scoff.

"I'm serious." He utters, "If I got a dollar for every time your face has made my brain turn to mush, I'd be a fuckin' trillionaire."

With a sigh, you nod your chin toward the steering wheel in front of him, "Drive your car, Satoru. We don't have all night."

Gojo's eyes soften for a second as he actually loses himself in staring at you, "...You heal me," He suddenly says.

"What?" Your brows furrow and your face twists up while you meet his gaze.

He looks into your eyes for a second longer before turning his head to face forward, "I'm a broken man, sweetheart." Gojo explains as he moves his large veiny hands to the wheel in front of him, "And you... you heal me little by little every day."

You're unsure what to make of his poetic claims. Is this another type of confession? What does he mean he's broken? How do you heal him? What the hell is going on inside that brain of his??

Gojo glances over at you one more time, moving his hand to poke the center of your forehead, "Don't think on it too much, you'll get a headache trying to decipher my nonsense, sweets." He says in a soft tone.

You find it weird he even refers to his own claims as nonsense when it's far from such a thing. The things he starting to say to you are becoming more and more complex, hidden meaning behind his words and secret bittersweet implications slipped in between his claims.

You gently move his finger away from your head and nod, "Whatever... just drive already."

Gojo smiles, "Yes ma'am."

With that, he returns his hand to the wheel and does exactly as you've told him to, quickly driving to the destination of the party.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆ .　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

There, you could hear lively music blaring from outside this large mansion. The place wasn't too far from where your campus is and you wondered how you went so long without ever being aware of its existence.

As stated before, you used to be quite the partier and most venues have been blessed with your presence. Yet, there you were, getting out of the car with Gojo and heading inside a house you'd surprisingly never been inside before.

Outside of the large estate, you spotted all kinds of people doing all kinds of things. It was expected and all but it had been such a long time since you've seen people having this much fun.

For starters, Choso isn't a partier. Why do you think about that now? Well, you asked him about it but he told you the chances of anyone catching him at a party are zero to none. He much rather be at home engrossed in his artwork.

There's another instance where you're wondering how different of a person Sukuna is in comparison to Choso. Especially when this big ass party is being hosted by him.

Gojo suddenly swings an arm over your shoulder and pulls you close to him while the two of you walk down the main path toward the entrance. The big double doors to the house are wide open, partygoers are scattered absolutely everywhere, and a large chunk of people are spotted inside.

Your gaze shoots over to the man all too close to you, "Satoru..."

"Sweetheart..." He replies.

"Why is your arm around me?" You question flatly.

He chuckles, a big smile painted across his overly handsome face, "I don't want you to get lost."

You blink, glancing away from Gojo and spotting people dancing, laughing, drinking, and even fucking in some places. Scrunching your face up at that last thing you spot, you continue to question Gojo, "What if Sukuna sees us like this?"

"He won't." He hums in response.

"How do you know?"

"Well... around a time like now, that asshole is probably somewhere in the middle of the party," Gojo explains.

The way he refers to Sukuna as an asshole has you worried. Are you going to have to deal with another Naoya?

Swallowing down a large gulp of nerves, you bat your eyelashes at Gojo, "Asshole...?"

He tenses up beside you for some unknown reason, "Uh... I mean, yeah." He shrugs, "Sukuna isn't the nicest guy in the world, everyone knows that."

"I didn't." You respond dryly, then you raise a brow in question, "He's not gonna be like Naoya though... right?"

Gojo looks down at you, finding your worried pout cute, and flashing a comforting smile at you, "No sweetheart, Sukuna's an asshole but..." His expression flickers and his smile fades away. He swallows and then clears his throat, "I'm pretty sure he'll satisfy you just fine."

The two of you finally enter the house and Gojo looks around, greeting some people he knows with a nod of his head while the two of you conversate.

You narrow your eyes at him, "Are you sure?"

Music is heard blaring further on in the party but you two haven't gone deep enough inside to not be able to hear each other yet.

"Fuckin' positive," Gojo suddenly sounds pissed and you grow concerned. The arm around you gets a little tighter while he walks you through some crowds and you keep looking at the man confused.

There's a vein popping out along his jawline because of how hard he's gritting his teeth. You're confused about what pissed him off so suddenly, "What's wrong?"

He avoids looking at you, "Nothing sweets, just know he'll take greeeat care of you."

"What's that supposed to mean?" You murmur. The softness of your voice alone helps Gojo to somewhat come back to his senses.

"Sukuna..." Gojo pauses, thinking hard about something before shaking the thought away, "He uh... How do I say this... He'll," The man looks down at you again, "He'll be nice to you."

"...Will he?"

"Yeah, you're cute." Gojo compliments, shrugging all his thoughts off, "He likes cute girls."

"There's plenty of cute girls at this party," You point out, "What makes me so special?"

"Everything."

You scoff, "What-"

"This is about to be your eleventh question since we've been here." Gojo cuts off before giving you a comforting little smile, "Relax, everything will be fine, okay? Trust me."

Your lips purse together as you decide to drop all your questions for now.

Both of you continue walking deeper and deeper into the party, the volume of the music soon engulfing almost all of your senses. People were dancing all over the place, you saw a few drinking games taking place, some people were gathered together smoking, and it was all so lively.

While you walked with Gojo, you couldn't help but notice the way girls gawked at the man beside you, their eyes all over his face, and jealousy noticed in their expressions after they spotted you beside him. What made the whole thing better was the fact that Gojo didn't even glance at them.

The only woman whose eyes he ever looks into is yours. The only person's body he's drooling over is yours. Hell, the only person at this party Gojo even cared about was you.

At some point, he stopped to talk to some people he knew and you just stood quietly by his side. Gojo would give the people he spoke to this murderous glare if they even so much as peeked at you.

You wondered if you imagined the looks he gave some guys up until one was caught staring at your cleavage by Gojo. The man beside you tilted his head and narrowed his eyes, "Fuck are you starin' at?" He spat out.

You were oblivious to what was going on at first until you saw who he was talking to; some weirdo leaning against a wall gawking at woman after woman. When he noticed Gojo was talking to him you watched how he immediately teared his eyes off you.

Gojo then dragged you along, making his way toward a dance floor. You looked up at him, "You look like you're gonna stab someone...." You said playfully, mocking him for the wicked look in his eyes.

He smiles and that look completely disappears, almost as if it were never there, to begin with. Meeting your gaze, Gojo pouts, "Who, me?"

"Yes you, don't try to act all innocent."

He snickers, "Stabing isn't the way I'd go about hurting someone but, alright."

"People stare at me all the time, y'know... You can't keep glaring like that." You say, looking away from him, "Especially when I'm not even your girlfriend or anything."

"So?" Gojo scoffs, "I don't like seeing people look at you like that and I couldn't care less if you aren't my girlfriend," He suddenly leans down to you and his eyes go dark again, "You're by my side, in my arms..." He explains lowly, "And even if it's not reciprocated, you're my love."

You stare, seeing the same look he had in his eyes that day he caught you, the same look he gave you when he said he wanted you. Gulping, you try to respond, "Satoru-,"

"I'm serious. They can look at any other chick in this party, just not you. Especially not when you're with me." Gojo claims.

"That's a bit possessive don't you think?" You point out, halfway joking.

"Oh, trust me," He smiles as if it's no big deal, "I'm aware."

You open your mouth to say something but he suddenly leans up and takes his arm off you, "Anyways, I'm pretty sure you'll find Sukuna somewhere in all that," He instructs, nodding toward the group of people dancing and shouting on the main floor. He starts backing away from you, "Text me if you don't though."

"You're leaving me?" You say dumbfoundedly.

"Well, Sukuna can't spot us together..."

"Right." Your lips purse together and you nod, the two of you finally splitting for the first time that night.

The music is so loud that you can feel the vibrations from the base of your toes as you walk into the crowd. You steadily begin to dance by yourself for a moment and at one point you get a drink to help you loosen up.

You didn't plan to overdo it or anything because the last thing you wanted was to be horny and drunk all over again but, you did get enough to give you a little buzz. The smell of weed was strong throughout the dancefloor and you would've partaken in that too but you definitely don't trust drugs from just anyone.

As your body sways with the music, you end up dancing back into some guy on accident but when you try to move, hands go to your waist and your hips, immediately making you uncomfortable. You tried not to make a scene about this random man touching you, casually trying to dance away from him.

Your body language made it so painfully obvious that you didn't want this guy touching on you and you eventually turned your head back to him, noticing that it was the same person Gojo snapped at earlier.

That realization caused goosebumps to form all over your skin and you tried telling the man to back off you. He definitely heard you but clearly ignored you, going as far as groping your ass and creepily smiling at you.

You grit your teeth and elbow the weirdo back away from you, creating only a bit of distance between you and him since there are so many people around. The creep still misses the hint and tries to come close to you again.

In the blink of your eye, one second he was trying to come to touch you again and the next you saw a fist make contact with his jaw, a crack heard even through the music as his body stumbled to the side and then made contact with the floor.

Your eyes went wide at the sight and some people around you cheered. Was getting punched in the jaw like this some kind of regular occurrence? Why were people cheering and laughing so suddenly?

The guy was out cold on the floor, people dancing around his still body as you stood in shock.

The person who punched the fuck out of him was standing where he once was and you turned around to face the guy.

Your heart probably skipped fourteen beats at the sight in front of you. Towering over your smaller frame, smiling maliciously at the motionless body on the ground, with dark yet attractive tattoos decorating his handsome face, bright pink hair, and harsh maroon eyes, Sukuna stood proudly before you.

You batted your eyes at the man, in complete awe of everything about him. The shirt he wore was sleeveless, revealing even more tattoos that went along his large shoulder, his bicep, and his wrist.

With a snarky laugh, you watch as he then disrespectfully spits on the knocked-out man's body, "Disgusting." Sukuna hummed.

Those sharp and surprisingly scary eyes of his snap over to you, the only person shocked by what just happened. The smile that was once spread across his face drops completely when he looks at you. You can feel every hair on your head stand up as you meet his gaze, your spine goes rigid and you think you start sweating.

Sukuna turns to face you and takes a simple step toward your nervous body, tipping his torso down and toward you so that he can be at eye level with you. You think you stop breathing entirely.

Why the fuck is he so intimidating? Why did he stop smiling? Why does he look like he's about to punch you next? Your heart is pounding against your ribcage and you don't think any man has ever made you this utterly nervous from just a glance before.

His rose-tinted lips part and his voice is so low and deep you could feel your body getting tense, "This is the part where you say thank you."

You blink, "Th-Thanks." You hated yourself for stuttering.

He tutts, "Nono, not 'thanks', thank you, brat."  Sukuna corrects.

"Thank you," You say, your voice small.

He smiles at you, the sight making your heart race. A sexy and slightly raspy chuckle leaves the male, "Thaaat's more like it, good girl."

A strong throb of arousal thrums in your core at the sound of his words. It's embarrassing how such a simple phrase has you turned on already.

It was at that very moment you realized that this man was going to be different than the rest. Not Choso level different and not in any romantic sense but, the small conversation and his aura made one thing very clear.

Sukuna was in a league of his own. This man was a damn beast and you were both scared and excited to explore that.

GOJO SATORU ✔︎ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙀𝙖𝙨𝙮

GETO SUGURU ✔︎ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙀𝙖𝙨𝙮

TOJI FUSHIGURO ✔︎ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙈𝙚𝙙𝙞𝙪𝙢

KAMO CHOSO ✔︎ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙎𝙚𝙢𝙞-𝙈𝙚𝙙𝙞𝙪𝙢 / 𝙀𝙖𝙨𝙮

ZEN'IN NAOYA ✔︎ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙀𝙭𝙩𝙧𝙚𝙢𝙚𝙡𝙮 𝙀𝙖𝙨𝙮

ITADORI SUKUNA ☐ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: ???

NANAMI KENTO ☐ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: ???

mlist || previous chapt || next chpt

[remusluvr]

i've got soul but i'm not a soldier | remus lupin

summary: Remus can't stay away from you anymore. You can't either. content: fem reader, p in v, lovey-dovey ness, love confessions, mentions of eating (directed towards Remus, nothing bad though), unprotected sex, unedited note: based off this request

"Where are you going?"

He's laid out on your couch, face turned to the tv until you walk into the room. He looks comfortable and you wish you could change out of your dress into sweatpants and curl up with him. But you can't so you shake the thought off, finishing putting in your earrings.

"Out, Wyatt asked me on a date. We're going to that new restaurant downtown." He sits up on the couch, hands rubbing down the length of his thighs.

"Will you come back tonight?"

"Oh, uh, I'm not sure. You know I don't mind you staying here. Don't feel like you need to leave." He hums in response, eyeing you as you search for your purse and wallet. His arm is thrown around the back of the couch as he watches you in your pretty black dress and pretty shoes. The clacking against the floor warms his soul.

"I don't like Wyatt-"

You roll your eyes. You've already had this conversation - "It doesn't matter if you like Wyatt, Remus. I like him." and "Well, it should matter what your best friend thinks."

"-Why can't you just stay with me? Quality friend bonding. We can even watch that stupid movie you like."

"Hard offer to decline but I'm already running a little late so we'll have to put a pin in this conversation." Walking over to him, he leans his head back on the couch. You lean down and kiss his forehead, leaving a bit of your lipstick on the skin. Your thumb rubs it away. "I'll see you later."

And with that, you leave. It used to be easier to get you to cancel dates and stay with him the whole night. You used to jump at the opportunity but now it's like you're jumping away from him. Maybe you are, maybe you're tired of liking him as more than friends should like the other so you're putting a stop to it.

He's left all alone on your couch. Secretly, he hopes your date crashes and burns.

You laugh all the way through dinner and practically plan your second date right then and there. He's just the type of guy you like. Handsome, intelligent, tall, sweet.

And at the end of the night, Wyatt walks you to the door, kisses you on the cheek, and tells you he'll call. Remus sees this from his position on the balcony, cigarette held idly between his fingers. He also sees the way you deflate after he walks away. Was it not a good date? Did Wyatt treat you badly?

"Have fun?" he asks, walking back in through the screen door. You startle, clutching at your chest as you mess with the buckle on your shoes.

"I did. We had a good time."

Remus wants to scream. He wants to be the one taking you on a date so badly. Everything inside of him yells at him to grow a pair, to finally bite the bullet. But, he can't bring himself to risk your friendship. You mean too much to him.

His heart is weighed down. The last thing he wants is for you to get into a relationship. It'll ruin everything. He won't be able to stay over as much, won't be able to hold you when you're having a bad day, won't be able to do any of the things he loves doing with you.

Wyatt's good for you, he'll make you happy. It's what you keep telling yourself in your head. You hate that you can't get Remus out of your head.

Remus feels erratic like he's clutching at straws with you, trying to get you to like him back. And you feel crazy for even thinking of him as more than a friend. You feel like a bad friend.

"Do you need help with those?" he laughs, watching the way you're still struggling to get the clasp of your shoe undone. Laughing, you kick your foot out towards him and he joins you on the floor. His nimble fingers are a much better fit for the job than your shaky ones. His hands rub your foot before working on the other one.

How are you supposed to not love him?

You thank him with a kiss on the cheek. He swoons, making you giggle at him.

"You look very pretty," he whispers, helping you stand up. Your face grows hot at his compliment as you wave him off, trekking back to your bedroom to change into your pajamas and wash your face for the night. He follows you. "I mean it. Wyatt's a lucky guy."

You don't say anything as you get ready for bed. He loves this time of the night, loves how comfortable you feel with him. And he especially loves the way he can pretend you're his. The moment is so domestic that it makes him feel dizzy and when you crawl onto the bed beside him, he digs himself deeper into his hole.

"Did you eat?" you ask, getting comfortable under your blankets. He shakes his head and you scold him, "Remus. You need food. You're always such a grouch when you don't eat."

"I am not the grouch when I don't eat. You are," he bites back, fingers poking at your side. You take offense, sitting up to look at him better.

"Why must you be so mean to me?" you tease, fake-crying so he'll feel bad. It works as it always does, and he cradles you into his arms, hand stroking your hair.

He knows you're faking, anyone in their right mind would know you're faking but it gives him an excuse to touch you. And you like the way he gets so protective over you. Nothing could ever affect you in this moment. His heart twists and his mouth moves faster than he can think.

"I'm glad we know each other."

"You're such a sap," you giggle, pulling your face away from his chest.

"Only for you." His tongue darts out, wetting his lips as you settle yourself into his neck. Your breath tickles him but he doesn't mind. The moment is so delicate he's afraid any movement could shatter it. "I feel like I'm losing you."

"Why? Because I went on a date?"

"Kinda, Wyatt's going to take you from me. But, also just cause I feel like you have been acting differently toward me."

Remus is right. You have been acting sort of differently. You don't reach out to him much, he's usually the one that just shows up on your doorstep.

"I'm sorry, I don't mean to." You do mean to. It's easier to get over your feelings for someone if you have less contact with them. Maybe it doesn't exactly work if when you are with that person you act like this. All cuddly and wanting for him.

Wyatt was supposed to be a new start. He was a boy that actually liked you and that wanted to be with you. He was kind and loved to hear you ramble. He was respectful and handsome. You should like Wyatt, but you can't get Remus out of your head. You never have been and you never will, you fear.

"(Y/N)?" he asks after you've grown quiet for longer than usual. You hum. He tries to calm the shake in his body. "Please don't see him again."

"What?" you ask, sitting up, still in his lap.

"Please don't go on another date with him." He knows he sounds pathetic, begging for you, but he can't help it.

"Remus, why?" His hair is messy and he looks adorable.

"I can't see you with him. You shouldn't be with him. He's not right for you and I think you know that." You do know that. He swallows his fear as he continues on, "It's not fair that I can't have you. You mean everything to me and I can't see you with him. It hurts too much."

You're silent and his brain is screaming at him. His face is on fire as you look at him. He's an idiot. Why did he say anything? His throat burns with the threat of incoming tears and he swallows hard, pushing them away.

"I won't see him again." The look on his face melts you. It's one of confusion mixed with relief. You lean forward to ease his confusion, pressing your lips to his. He takes you willingly, hands holding your face. You whine when he pulls away first, chasing after his lips as he catches his breath.

You have a stupid smile on your face. He mirrors your expression as his head tips back against your headboard.

"You look pretty," you whisper, kissing at the exposed skin of his neck. His hands have a firm grip on your hips. You smile against his skin when he whimpers at your nibbling. "So, so pretty."

"Y-you should look at yourself," he whispers back, eyes shut as you kiss behind his ear. He can't believe his luck. He has the girl he's wanted since school in his lap, calling him pretty and biting at his ear. He must've died and gone to heaven for this to be happening.

"I wish you had said something sooner. Or I wish I had told you. Never would've even thought about another guy."

Yeah, he has to be dead.

"Lily's been nagging me to just tell you. She doesn't like Wyatt either," you mumble, enjoying the way he's so intoxicated on you. He likes your boldness. It doesn't happen often but the rush from your love confessions must have you giddy. You press kisses along his jawline, stopping at his lips. "You mean so much to me, was just scared that you'd freak out and leave me, y'know."

"Yeah, I get that," he sighs, deepening the kiss. His hand holds the back of your head to keep your face to his. It makes you feel shy. You know the perfect way to really kill him but you've never seen Remus in this light before and the knowledge of that strikes you down. He's left to be the bolder one, flipping you over and pressing you against your pillows.

You're panting into his mouth and he's loving every single second of it. He loves to be in control, loves having you yearning for more underneath him. Any composure he thought he had is gone when you pant out, "All I could think about on my date was hoping you were here when I got back."

He moans into your mouth, pulling away to rest his forehead against yours. He's a goner. And despite the fact that he wants to do this right, he can't stop imagining what it would be like to fuck you. He can't though, not yet. He's got one chance and he won't fuck it up.

"You're making this very hard, sweetheart." He knows exactly what he'll do. He'll start with a nice date to a restaurant of your choice, maybe a walk or a drive after to somewhere with a nice view where he will kiss you chastely, and then when you return to either one of your apartments (yours preferably, he's been having a pest problem. the pests being James and Sirius) where he'll fuck you, like a gentleman.

"This?" you ask, voice smooth and sultry as your hand reaches down, palming him over his sweatpants. His plan flies out the window. Your fingers dip into the waistline of his pants, pulling lightly. "Want them off."

"Needy girl," he chastises as though he isn't already on the brink of cumming in his pants. He moves off the bed, removing his pants and boxers before laying back down, allowing you to crawl back over to him, hand wrapping around his cock.

He's definitely died.

You're glad that you don't have any roommates right now with how loud Remus is being. You love it. These are the only sounds you want to hear for the rest of your life. He hates that all the focus is on him.

He reaches out, pulling at the bottom of your shirt. You relent, releasing Remus from your grip to pull your shirt over your head. He sucks in a breath at the lacy bra you're wearing. You must have kept it on after your date.

A tinge of jealousy rushes through his veins at the thought of you wearing it for someone else. It quickly simmers out once he remembers that you're all his now. He smiles, pulling you to sit on his lap again.

"Rem," you sigh when he pulls the cups of your bra down, leaning in to pull one of your nipples between his teeth. He loves the squeak he gets out of you and the way you grind your hips down onto him. "Don't tease me, please."

"You make me so happy." He doesn't know where all this gooeyness is coming from. He's always felt it but the fact that he can say it aloud now has him keening. He watches the flush take over your cheeks as his hands settle on your hips, helping you move against him.

There are a lot of things Remus wants to do to you. He's glad that he has so much time to do them all with you.

It's difficult to focus when you can feel him underneath you. You're so wet that you're sure he'd be able to just slip right inside you, no prep needed. You test your luck, pushing your underwear to the side and guiding him with your hand.

"Oh my fucking god," he whines when you sink down on him. He holds you down, not letting you move. You lean forward, pressing kisses on his face. It's not helping. He needs to cum so bad and the feel of your wet cunt has only increased that feeling by tenfold.

"Let me move, I wanna make you feel good." It takes him a moment but he lets you take the lead, letting his head drop back against the headboard as he watches you. He can never go back to how you were before. He needs this at every moment of every day. "A-ah, you're so big."

"Doing s-such a good job, bunny." That's a new nickname. You like it. You wrap your arms around his neck, burying your face in his neck as you fuck yourself back on him. His hands grip your ass, spreading you open so you can really feel all of him. "So, so perfect for me."

He feels your lips pecking at his neck again and his arms wrap around you, taking complete control as he bounces you down on him. You don't have any time to warn him that you're about to cum before you're cumming. It pushes him right over the edge and he cums inside of you.

"Shit," he groans when he can think again. You're putty in his hands, letting his limp cock rest inside of you, no want to move any time soon. He pushes your face up with a few fingers at your chin. Your eyes are so heavy that they're barely open. He's proud of himself. "I'm sorry, baby."

"What?" you worry, eyes flying open. Did he think this was a mistake? Were you only a fuck to him? You can't go back now, not when you know how good he fucks you.

"I didn't mean to finish inside." Your heart rate returns to normal and you drop back down onto his shoulder, shrugging. You like it. His brain is spinning. His hands rub soothing circles on your back before he's working you off of him, cooing when you hiss at the overstimulation of him pulling out.

"Love you, Rem," you mumble as he helps you get comfortable in bed. He can't resist pressing a kiss to your forehead before reaching over and turning your lamp off.

"Love you too."

[adrianfridge]

I don't think enough people talk about the physical and mental energy it takes to cook when you weren't raised to cook.

It's not as simple as here are the ingredients and here are the steps. Cooking involves multi-tasking, timing, proportions, prepping, improvising, and more. The more complex the dish, the more juggling it requires.

Oh, and I haven't even mentioned obtaining the ingredients and the cleaning afterwards.

All these "healthy" and "save money" and "live better" motivational speeches to get people to cook more, and I'm over here like Cooking is Fucking Stressful and Incredibly Draining Actually.

I was raised a girl, but I'm entirely self-taught because my mom hated cooking and never bothered to teach me. She was convinced I'll just naturally learn on my own after I got married and was forced to cook for my husband and family 🙃

Anyway, I went through a HelloFresh phase several years ago to try to kick-start myself into a groove, but it never really latched on. I think the only thing I learned is the importance of prepping ingredients in advance so that once I'm bouncing around, things are just ready for me to grab.

This isn't to say I don't cook AT ALL EVER. I can make eggs on a skillet just fine. But it's a one-and-done kind of thing. Much like putting together a cold cut sandwich. But that's not Cooking™.

Turns out this past month I randomly got a hyperfixation to Cook™, so here I am facing the bone-tired aftermath of making meals that'll last more than one day.

After three weekends of going through it, here's how I autistically started handling the stress:

Find a recipe I will follow

Envision myself going through the steps and allocate a certain amount of energy to the task

Compile ingredients I need to obtain (or get my partner to obtain)

(If I have to go shopping myself, do it on a separate day from when I have to cook)

Open a Google Doc and copy/paste the recipe into it

Rewrite the recipe steps based on how I imagine I'll be going through them once I'm in motion

Mentally practice the steps

When it's time to cook, go through steps as I've mentally practiced them, with improvisation when real life takes a different turn

(If a lot of prep work is required, such as peeling and cutting potatoes, sit down to do it with a podcast before starting on anything else)

After cooking is complete, throw out any lingering garbage

My partner does the dishes :)

I'm sure it'll get easier the longer I do it, but this is exactly why I'm 34yo and always hated Cooking™ to the point that I budget for delivery and take-out on nearly a daily basis.

Cooking is hard actually.

[ao3commentoftheday]

Hey there! So glad to see you're back! I have a question about replying to comments after a significant amount of time has passed. I was struggling with my mental health, and writing and AO3 in general tends to go by the wayside when that happens. Add onto it, AO3 is kinda covered in ooze for me right now because of some ex friends I used to write with. I would like to get back into fic writing and reading, but I have a bunch of comments that are over a year (posssibly years) old at this point, one of which is incredibly touching and I want to reply to, but I'm afraid it'll be awkward or weird for me to reply at this point?

I know there's never an expiration date for commenting on a fic, but what about replying to comments on your fic? I mean like, I know the site won't forbid me to, but it feels weird at this point and like it might feel rude to the original commenters. Do I reply with a brief explanation of my absence? Do I just not reply and start replying to new comments? I'm at a loss an feel guilty about not replying.

I shudder to think about the number of comments I haven't yet replied to. I literally shudder.

But at the same time, like you, I've been dealing with some personal shit and I just haven't had the spoons. Making myself feel bad for my inability to do a thing won't make doing that thing any easier. What does make doing the thing easier is being kinder to myself and remember that other people are nicer to me than I am to myself.

I have it on good authority (the readers who follow this blog) that a reply is welcome whenever it comes. If it's been a long time, that reply may also prompt the reader to reread the story it's attached to and enjoy it all over again. And don't feel like you need to explain if you don't want to. One thing I think we can all understand after the last few years is that sometimes you just need a break.

A thank you is never unappreciated, even if it comes a little late. ❤️

[tojivu]

Megumi and reader after a two week separation because of megumis mission. He admits that he almost died to reader and talks about what happens after.

empty spaces ⋆ megumi fushiguro

an. argh sorry i got carried away LOL

cw. sfw, gn!reader, comfort + fluff

playing. bills by enhypen.

the bed's been useless these past few days.

it's as if the weeks have been drawn out, the universe adding new hours to each of the days so they're longer than they should be — that's what it's been feeling like.

you refuse to sleep in the master bedroom. the pillows next to your head smell too much like your boyfriend; hints of mint shampoo linger and enter your nose as you try to sleep, but ultimately fail to do so.

megumi's been gone for a bit now, and you haven't gotten much news, either. yaga's always talking about classified information and how 'the public shouldn't be concerned with jujutsu affairs' — anxiety pits in your stomach because why couldn't he just tell you whether your boyfriend was dead?

you try to distance yourself from places in the house that remind you of him, incase he's really gone this time; you believe it'll make things easier for you, but it feels as if someone's cutting away at the vessels closest to your heart whenever you imagine it — imagine megumi's body laying lifeless as they transport it back to tokyo.

megumi's never been gone for more than 3 days, especially on a mission. he's usually quick with it, coming home with a cut or two on the arms or face; it'll heal just fine, because he always asks you to take care of his wounds.

you usually sit on his lap as you bandage him up. he winces at the sting of the antiseptic, his fingers gripping harshly at your waist and then you'll tell him to sit still — he never listens, gets all grumbly with furrowed eyebrows — until you clean him up and put on the last bandaid, kiss him over the piece of clear film (and maybe an extra on the lips, if they aren't bleeding too); it's only then he finally shuts up.

you wonder how long you'll have to sit together on the kitchen island this time, if he comes home, that is — you don't think you'll mind the back and arm strain this time. you just want to see him.

"relax," gojo reassures over the phone. "he'll be back soon."

those words mean nothing to you. he's been gone for 14 days now, and he hasn't called — his location hasn't updated, either, you think he must've broken it during the fight or something.

a few sentences are exchanged between satoru and you, before your finger taps the red button at the bottom of your screen; unsatisfied doesn't, couldn't, describe your current thoughts — you were enraged that that was the only piece of information that was provided.

it takes a few hours for you to calm your thoughts. they make your head spin and heart sink, jump around like marbles on clean linoleum and deafen the shows you play on television.

you're watching megumi's favourite drama, which happens to be your favourite drama, too — he was the one who introduced it to you. you're seven episodes in when you hear the front door creak open; so loud that it reminds you to get the hinges replaced.

megumi was supposed to call the guy. it's clear you might have to ring him up yourself, now.

you wonder if it could be nobara. she didn't tag along with yuji or megumi, and you've been ignoring her calls for the past week or so — she must be here to give you a good lecture.

you hear faint groans and bags dropping to the floor, close to the entryway. you aren't greeted by a loud "[name]" as you usually would by nobara. a shiver travels down your spine, hairs on the back of your neck beginning to stand.

you throw the woven blanket off of your body and to the side of the couch — the socks on your feet lubricate your steps and you almost trip with how fast you make your way to the door.

"[name]," his voice calls, rasp voice barely reaching your ears. "i'm home."

megumi's lip is bloody, bandages wrapped over his right eye and around his head — his left arm and leg had some cuts, as well; but those seem to have scabbed already.

you want to call his name, but nothing comes out of your mouth; only a small whimper before your lover is wrapping his arms around your torso. "sorry i was gone for so long."

the pit in your stomach is gone now, almost instantaneously — instead, you begin to sob into megumi's jacket.

megumi feels the guilt but the comfort of having you in his hold overpowers it. if it didn't, he was sure he would be tearing up, too; he never liked seeing you cry.

"megs," you sniffle. "i thought you were—"

"i almost did," megumi cuts you off. he didn't want you to say those words, though he knows being a sorcerer had his fate sealed — but it didn't mean he wanted you to know that. "but i'm alright, see?"

megumi smiles down at you, as if it didn't hurt to move the muscles in his face: they stung like small needles, but he sees the relief wash over your face like a splash of cold water — so he thinks he can put up the act for a bit longer.

"you're all bloody," you mutter. "can i clean that for you?"

you point at his lip and he nods, wincing at your finger that tries to inspect the cut a little closer — it's a familiar feeling: your delicate fingers treating him like glass.

megumi's standing in front of you, and you're sitting on the kitchen island so you can actually reach his face. he lets you do your thing and he's fighting every urge to kiss your lips; he knows the cut will only get worse.

"i don't want you to go missing on me like that," you say. "never again."

"i won't," he assures, fingers toying with the hem of your shirt as you continue cleaning his cuts. "can't die yet."

"ever," you correct. "don't plan on dying, ever."

"i'm not immortal, [name]."

"that's not my problem to fix."

he smiles at your attitude — megumi might really have to figure out a way to become immortal now — freeze the cells that are dying in his body before his bones get too tired to move, stop the pigment in his hair from fading.

"okay." he breathes, hands finding their way around your waist — he taps your legs to open wider to let him fit between. " but you'll have to be immortal too, then."

"why?" you question. "i don't go around killing myself to chase curses."

"when you die, i'll be lonely," megumi explains. "need you to fill the empty space on the bed."

you laugh, trying to think of a witty comeback — you were still upset at your boyfriend for going MIA — but the look he's giving you makes it difficult not to give in.

"is that the only reason you're dating me?"

"maybe," he lies. "i didn't buy such a big bed for nothing. can't let it go to waste."

you gasp, too dramatic to be real — you put the gauze down and give him a stern look, and he lets a giggle slip through his lips before you get to nag him again.

"i'm just kidding, baby," megumi begins to kiss your frown away, pressing his blood stained lips to yours. "i love you for far more than that."

and it's just like that that you melt at megumi fushiguro's words — his red lips and blushed face making your heart skip more beats than humanly possible.

"whatever." you continue to feign anger, yet your arms are still wrapped around his neck. he knows your attitude will last for at least a week.

his lips hurt, and he thinks your hard work has gone to waste with the way he's peppering kisses all over your face.

your hands find his jaw and you lead him into an actual kiss, and you realise he tastes like antiseptic — a little blood in the mix, too — but you can't really complain.

"i'm serious."

you wonder if it's megumi who fills the void you have, or whether it's you who fills his. whether that be in the form of empty beds or an empty house, you know for certain that everything feels off without him — missing like a centre puzzle piece.

"i know," you run your fingers through his rough and matted hair. "i love you too, megs."

"think you'll have to wash my hair for me, too."

you shake your head. "probably has lice."

"we'll have lice together, then." your boyfriend shrugs his shoulders.

"that's so gross, megs," your face sours. "you're such a romantic."

200124 — WHY IS THIS SO LONG DAMN

[neverinadream]

Can't You Feel It Too?

Summary: Mason would do anything to be with you, even get down on his knees and beg for it.

Pairing: Mason Mount x Fem!Reader

Requested: Nope

Song Inspo: Please Don't Go Home Yet - Stephen Sanchez

Warnings: angst, toxic situationship, pet names (baby, princess, sweetheart...), suggestive themes and like a couple of lines that are smut-ish, begging, insecure about love, conflict but with resolution

Notes: so this was originally going to be smut but i didn't feel like it would be appropriate, idk, i'll save some of those themes/topics for another 🤭, i'm not the most confident about this one but only because i haven't written just angst in a long time, i'm mainly a smut writer now. feedback is always appreciated

A sigh left your lips as Mason peered through your bedroom window, a lopsided smile pinching the corners of his mouth. "Open up!" He shouts, but the thick pane of glass between you muffled his voice. He points to the handle, shouting, "open up," one more time. Another sigh passes your lips as you reach for the handle, already feeling the regret you would feel before the sun has a chance to rise. "Hi," he says, his voice now clear to you with the window now open, "aren't you going to let me in?"

"No."

"Come on, love-"

"Mason, it's the middle of the night," you stress, tightening your hand around the handle, readying yourself to pull it shut, "go home!"

"Maybe I should remember that the next time you want to see me in the middle night," he fires back, bitterness bubbling on his tongue as he speaks back to you. He checks over his shoulder when he hears a noise coming from hedges but looks back at you after seeing a cat dart between yours and your neighbour's gardens. "Come on," he tries once more, "let me in."

Your hand remains the handle. "Why should I?"

"Because it's been weeks, y/n," he replies, his voice quieting as the features of his face grow softer. He searches your eyes for a part of you that isn't cold, a part of you that might be happy to see him, but there's nothing there. "I need you."

"You have others."

"But none that are like you."

You bite your bottom lip, gnawing at the soft flesh, and Mason has to stop himself from reaching to stop you. "Not even Jessica?" You drop your hand onto the windowsill, leaning forward to meet him outside your window. "I'm sure she would be thrilled to know you're here at my window and not at hers."

He pinches the bridge of his nose, a harsh sigh of frustration falling off his lips. "How many times do I have to tell you that she came onto me?"

"Then why did you leave with her?"

His lips press together in a thin line. "Who told you that?"

You refuse to answer. There was no need to drag another person into the mess you had been creating these last few months. A one-night stand with a friend of a friend had turned into months of pining for Mason, but months of hooking up when it suited you best.

Falling in love is scary when you're afraid of heights. It's the biggest fall of them all. So you control the situation. Refuse to see him when he wants to see you, deny his calls and stop replying to his messages the second his romantic words start to tug at your heartstrings, only to pick back up from where you left off a week later. And Mason would come running back to you every time.

You would rather hurt him than risk the possibility of love and happiness.

"It's freezing, okay," Mason whines, stuffing his hands deeper into his pockets, "and if I stay out here any longer, I think my balls might drop off."

"Then go back to your car-"

"I took an Uber here."

"Go to the front door," you sigh, reaching to pull the window shut.

"Or you just let me climb through your window?" A grin pinches the corners of his mouth. "Come on, it'll be a lot easier."

You raise your eyebrow, eying him suspiciously for any sign of intoxication. "Are you drunk?"

He looks at you, offended by your assumption. "What? No!" You take a few steps back, arms folding across your chest, and watch him successfully manoeuvre his way in through your window. You'd never had someone sneak into your bedroom like this before and you had to ignore the thrill you felt. "Why would you ask me that?"

"Because if you think climbing through my bedroom window at god knows what hour in the morning is easier than just using the front door, then you better be drunk."

"Or," he takes a second to dust his hands down the front of his shorts before finishing, "I just don't want to run the risk of having to deal with your roommate."

You frown. "Niamh wouldn't hurt a fly."

"I wasn't talking about Niamh."

You wanted to say something nice about your other roommate, Lily, to come to her defense, but you couldn't help but agree with him. Lily was incredibly honest about everything and the first time she met Mason, she told him she thought he lacked intelligence and his career was one of little importance. Could you and Lily ever be friends? Probably not. But you and Niamh had a spare room, rent to pay, and your part-time jobs only could cover so much of it.

Being a student was hard.

"Besides," Mason pulls you out of your thoughts, "you're on the ground floor."

"I've watched you play," you snort, rolling your eyes, "I've seen you take a fall to the floor because of a flick."

"That's just for show, innit."

You turn your back to him, the screen of your laptop and bedside lamp still illuminating your otherwise dark room. "I hope you know I only let you in so you had somewhere warm to wait." You walk over to your bed, one hand sinking into the mattress as you reach across to close your laptop; the last of your reading could be finished in the morning. "You're not staying, Mason. I want you gone before Niamh or Lily hear you."

"I'm not going anywhere." His eyes drag down your body as you snap back around to face him. Your legs were bare and your upper half was covered by one of his shirts. "Cute top," he utters, nodding in your direction, "I think I have one just like it, except mine has this little hole on the left sleeve." He stops in front of you, his fingers brushing purposely against your arm as he reaches out to touch the left sleeve, his thumb running against the small hole. "It looks better on you anyway."

He looks down from your eyes to your lips, studying their shape, the curve of your cupid bow, wondering if they were still as soft as they were the last time he kissed you. He dips his head but forces himself not to kiss you, no matter how hungry he is for you. Instead, he just presses his forehead against yours, resting it there, with his eyes closed, and enjoys the close proximity to you.

"Mason-"

"I did sleep with Jessica," he confesses, his breath drifting down your face and neck as he sighs, "but not because I thought she was attractive or anything like that, I wanted to see if I could move on from you."

You take a deep breath and swallow the jealousy that was brewing inside. "And can you?" You peek up at him through your eyelashes to find him gazing back at you. "Can you move on from me?"

He cradles your head in his hands, holding you still as he pulls back to kiss your forehead. "I want to." His thumb brushes against your cheek, memorising its softness. He treated every interaction with you like it was his last one.

"You should try harder."

"You think I haven't tried?" He growled, pulling back to look at you. There's no trying to hide the pain in his eyes. "Every time I think I'm ready to move on, you appear out of nowhere, and I come crawling back to you like some lost love-sick puppy!"

"Would you keep your voice down?" You stress, taking his wrists and pulling his hands down to his sides. You walk over to your door and shut it the rest of the way. "I don't need another bollocking from them two because you showed up here unannounced, might I add, in the middle of the fucking night."

"Unannounced?" He places his hands on his hips, whispering, "oh my," under his breath. "What? Do I have to make a-a fucking appointment to see you or something?" You roll your eyes, unamused by his use of sarcasm. "I haven't seen or heard from you in two weeks! I had no choice but to resort to desperate measures."

You fold your arms defensively across your chest. "I think you need to leave."

Shaking his head, he brings his hands to cradle your face once more as he closes the gap between you. His heart hammers inside his chest, the blood thumping loudly in his ears; this was now or never for him. "Me and you, I know we can make this work," he pleads, finding your eyes in the dim lighting.

"Mason, I can't do this right now," you avoid his eyes, staring at his chin.

"Then when? Tomorrow? Maybe the next day? Or perhaps the day after that?" He tilts your head back, leaving you with no option but to look at him. "Don't you see how much this hurts me?" He closed his eyes, hiding the tears that glossed them, and rested his head against yours. "Why can't you just pick me?" He chokes on the lump in his throat.

You push him away before you can let yourself melt into him. "You wouldn't understand."

"Because you won't give me a chance to understand!"

You lunge forward and clamp your hand over his mouth. "What did I just tell you?" Your eyes flick up to the ceiling and then back down at Mason, whose eyes have never left you. "I won't tell you again."

"And I don't care if they hear me," he hisses, curling his hand around the side of your neck, fingers caressing you, "let me stay, please? We don't- I need you, baby!" He sighs at your lack of reaction. "You need me to beg, is that it?" He brings his face closer to yours, his breath hitting your ear as he whispers, "I know you like it when I beg for it."

"No, I don't," you pull away, disagreeing with him.

"You think I'm dumb, princess?" You're compelled to act dumb and shake your head like you had no idea what he was talking about. "Think I haven't noticed how you need to be in control over every aspect of your life? Including us?" He moves the hand around your neck up onto your jaw, pushing his thumb against your bottom lip, pulling it and watching it fall back into place. "You want me, I know you do," his voice was low and husky, "and I know how to prove it."

He lowers himself to his knees, his hands gripping the backs of your thighs, fingers pressing hard enough into your skin for it to sting. His name comes out in a sigh as he leans in to leave a kiss on each of them, your body tingling like each kiss was a jolt of electricity passing through. You don't want to but you reach out and touch him, a soft gasp melting away the silence as you threaded one hand through his hair. He hums approvingly and leans his face against you, kissing your thighs again.

"Tell me you want this," he leans back, looking up at you in the dark, half of his face illuminated by the lamp, "tell me you've missed feeling my hands on your thighs. Tell me you've been thinking about my tongue on you, kissing you, biting these thighs." You grip his hair tighter, steading yourself as he lifts one leg over his shoulder, and turns to graze his teeth on the inner of your thigh, tongue gliding over the spot to soothe any pain. "Tell me you missed having my hands under your shirt," one hand disappears and Mason groans as he moulds his hand around your breast, "grabbing these perfect tits."

You whimper as he rolls your nipple between his finger and thumb, the nub pebbling under his rough touch. "Keep doing that," you arch your back and pull on his hair. You couldn't begin to put into words how much you had missed his touch.

"I will, baby," he nods, placing another kiss on your thigh, "I'll do anything you want- I'll be your good boy, but I need you to say it." He drags his hand away from your chest, leaving it to linger on your belly. He ignores your demand when you tell him to put it back, hissing as you tug on his hair. "Please," he begs, blowing cool air against your panties, exposed to him as he pushes your shirt up. A faint grin tugs on the corners of his lips as he listens to you moan. "Come on, just say it!"

Just say it.

Say it!

"I can see it in your eyes, baby," he whispers, the expression in his eyes softening as they peered up at you, "please, just say it."

Put him out of his misery and just say it!

You stroke your hand down his face, your fingers touching along his jaw, your belly warming as he melts into your touch. He was starved of your touch, ravenous for just about anything. "Please, please, please," you whimper at how he whines for you, the neediness and the desperation so clearly in his voice, "can't you see what we can have together?" Your head was dizzy and his words had your heart thumping wildly in your chest. "Just say it," he encourages with another kiss, "I know you want to."

"Why are you doing this?" You question him, running your thumb over his chin.

"Because I like you and I know you like me too, and maybe you could just admit that to yourself if you just got out of your head!" He lifts and lowers your foot back down onto the carpet, separating the two of you, before rising to his feet with a broken sigh. You melt into his touch as his hand cradles your cheek, your eyes closing to enjoy the softness of his affection - affection that you weren't deserving of. "We could have a good thing, you and me," he says, searching your eyes as they look up at him, "so why are you so afraid to admit that?"

"I'm not afraid."

Yes, you are.

"You are!" Mason growled, a new kind of annoyance forming in his eyes. "I got down on my knees for you, I begged you to say it, I gave you the control you so desperately needed and you still couldn't say it! It's just three words, y/n-"

"But it's not just three words, Mason!" You raise your voice, snapping at him as you talk over him. His hand was long gone from your face, and the warmth his affection provided was now chilled by the coldness of your hardened exterior. "I have been afraid of heights my whole entire life," you mumble, nervously biting at your bottom lip, "and I don't think there's any greater height to fall from than love."

Your explanation was silly and you didn't expect him to understand.

"I don't know what I'm supposed to do if there is no one there to catch me if I do fall," you finish, taking a seat on the edge of your bed, letting your head hang so you looked down at the floor and not at the pain on his face, "what would be the purpose of letting my walls break down if there's never anyone there to let in?"

Mason lingers for a moment, the shock of your admission sinking in, before snapping himself back to reality. "You don't have to worry about me not being there," he promises, hesitating at first and then sinking onto his knees in front of you. He hooks his fingers under your chin, lifting your head to get a better look at you. "I'll be there to catch you, princess," he nods, brushing his thumb gently across your cheek, collecting a tear, "I'll be there every single time."

"Even after all the mess I've created?" You sniffle, it didn't go unnoticed to you that you were undeserving of any of this. He produces a warm but small smile, his hand caressing your face. A soft chuckle leaves his lips as you nuzzle your face into his palm. "I don't deserve you," you mumble, cupping your hand around his.

"One or two people might have said that," he agrees, remembering previous conversations he's had with the likes of Woody and various members of his new club. Woody had told him he was crazy to keep going back, Jadon suggested he should just give up, and Luke had made a comment or two he would never repeat to you. "And maybe once or twice I would've agreed with them," he adds, "but I don't want to move on from you; I want to be with you. I want to fall in and out of love with you. I want us to have arguments over the silliest of things, and then make up by having mind-blowing sex. I want to take you home to meet my parents, hear my nieces call you their auntie, and tell my sister that I think I've found the one."

You closed your eyes and tried to picture the life Mason was already planning for you. Sunday dinners with his family. Playing dress-up and having tea parties with his nieces. Him showing you around his hometown, taking you to all his favourite spots, and sharing ice cream together. It all made you smile.

"It sounds nice," you whisper, opening your eyes.

"It can be if you allow it."

"I like you, Mason," you sit up, lowering his hand into your lap, your fingers fiddling with his, "but I don't know how to do this." You chew on the pad of your thumb, eyes casting down at your joined hands. He strokes his thumb lovingly against the backs of your fingers, an act so small but greatly calms you down. "I don't know where to start, or the right thing to say."

He releases your hand and cradles your face, cutely framing the sides in his large hands, his thumbs brushing against the apples of your cheeks. "Look at me," his eyes peered into yours, their rich earthy tones warm under the low lights, "you like me?"

You frown, "that's what you took away from that?"

"'m sorry," he chuckles, taking his hands away, holding them in the air as he comes to his defence, "I just really liked hearing you say it." He lowers them onto your lap, thumbs brushing against your bare thighs, smiling back at you as you roll your eyes. "Say it again-"

"Mason-"

"Please, baby," he begs, talking over the top of you. He holds up a single finger. "Just say it one more time."

You tilt your head to the side, a surprised laugh bursting from the deepest part of your throat. "Seriously?" He nods, eyes big and round as he produces his best puppy dog eyes for you. "Mason Tony Mount," you take a deep breath and place your hands on both of his shoulders as you move onto the very edge of your bed. He wraps his arms around your waist, preparing to catch you if you were to fall. You lean closer, resting your head against his, gazing into his eyes, letting them drift down to his lips. "I..."

"Go on," he whispers, laying his hands flat against the small of your back, his cheeks twitching as your arms looped around his neck, "say it." You try to close the gap, but you're left chasing his lips. "No," he rejects you, pushing his hands firmly against you, "say it."

"Promise to catch me when I fall?"

"Every time."

Taking a deep breath, you inhaled his warmth, his strength, and his reassurance to always be there to catch you if you fall and exhaled all your insecurities and every part of you that desired to run away. A wrecking ball had hit the walls you had worked so hard to perfect, and Mason had stepped through the hole it left behind.

This was no longer a height you were scared of.

"I like you, Mason," you whisper out into the gap that remains between you. This confession was just for him, it didn't need to be shared with the room's darkness that wrapped around you like a warm blanket. "I like you so goddamn much," you mumble, raking your fingers through his hair, teasing out a gasp as you gave the short strands a soft tug, "and I'm sorry."

Mason frowns, "for what?"

"For hurting you."

He moves one hand from your back, bringing it up to touch the nape of your neck. "I'm not hurting anymore," he whispers just before your mouths collide.

The kiss is exploratory at first. Gentle and intentional. It isn't until his hands are gripping your hips hard that you realise how heated the kiss was becoming - teeth tugging on bottom lips, tongues tangling together, hands pulling at each other's bodies. You pull apart before you can pull him onto the bed, chests rising and falling at a quick pace as you both try to catch your breaths, your eyes still closed, both completely lost in the moment.

This.

This is what you wanted.

"Stay?"

It sounded more like a command than a question, but Mason nodded without saying another word. He removes his hoodie as he stands, and you reach out to touch him, your hands landing on his hips, your lips brushing against the middle of his stomach. He lets out a soft sigh, hooking his fingers under your chin and tilting your head back to look up at him.

"We can take this as fast or as slow as you want it, okay?" You nod, grateful he wasn't expecting you to dive straight into the deep end of this newly forming relationship. "No more running away, no more under-appreciating each other," he says, setting out some basic rules for the both of you, but mainly just for you, "if you stay open and honest with me, then I promise to always be there to catch you."

———————

Taglist: @shanoontje @maseandkepa @theblxefox @blueathens  @ofxinnocence @mrschilly @geek-and-proud @in-my-body-bag @laurasstufff1 @mountchilly @spicysainz @thoseboysinblue @kickinganddriving @lizzypotter14 @bracedes @chilwellspulisic @notsoattractivearenti @swimmingismywholelife @lovelynikol16 @masonsrem @landoslover @kathb59 @emcv1427

[paper-mario-wiki]

Hey how do you cook chicken so often. It's always a huge fucking hassle to me to prep and cook chicken and it's so expensive I usually don't bother. Is there some trick you know for making it easy?

the answer's a lot more simple than ya think. i just have a huge bag of chicken breasts in the freezer. dont remember PRECISELY how much it was, pretty sure under $25 for 10 pounds at costco, and it'll last you several weeks when cooking for one.

the only real "prep" for making it easier is, when i don't have any chicken thawed in the fridge, i take some out of the freezer and put it into a plastic bag in the fridge. then, by the next day, ive got chicken that can be cooked and eaten up in 10 minutes. while still raw, it'll stay good for 2 days refrigerated, and up to 4 if you're stupid.

the breasts are actually a little bigger than i'd like when cooking just for myself, so while they're still frozen i find their middle and split them in half on the hard corner of my kitchen counter.

before seasoning, pat down the breast with a paper towel to get excess moisture off. it'll cook more evenly and make seasoning stick easier. i only use salt and pepper before cooking because im lazy and spiceless (poor), but you can definitely use herbs and whatnot when cooking. also smash down some of the thicker bits of the meat with the bottom of a cup or a mallet if you've got one. as long as the breast isn't thicker than, say, the width of your index finger, it'll cook through very easily, mostly in its own juices. otherwise you'll have a harder time cooking it evenly, though it can still be done. it just takes longer and might not look as nice.

pan-frying is as easy as putting in a splash of olive oil (not a ton, just enough for the breast to rest in), and cooking for 5 to 7 minutes on both sides, depending on how brown you want it. this is on medium-high heat, so i set my stove's little heat dial to 6 or 7.

for reference, the meal i made today (chicken breast, hashbrown, fried kale) was prepared in about 15ish minutes, including prepping the chicken and getting it on the pan, which was done first cuz it takes the longest to cook. the hashbrowns cooked on the far side of the pan away from the chicken, and the kale in my air fryer for 3 minutes. the chicken came off the pan first, and i let it rest for a few minutes while i let the hashbrowns finish cooking.

it sounds like a lotta work, but sincerely the most tedious thing about cooking with chicken is thawing it out, so having a few single-person servings of chicken in the fridge makes the whole process much simpler.

make sure that you're wiping down surfaces and utensils that the chicken touches while still raw, and try not to let any of the other foods at all. salmonella is easily avoidable, but still no joke.

[lowkeyremi]

That's my man atsumu x fem!reader

notes: I needed to write smthing for my baby's birthday. fwb tsumu does smthing to a me (it'll end up with getting together bc im silly like that), the samu ver is here

Content: slight language, slightly suggestive, fluff

He smiled at her with those sex eyes of his. Yes, he's giving them to her and not you. Atsumu makes everything so hot and cold, it's hard to tell with him.

She giggles and he laughs too, entertaining her for some pussy. The 'why' is something you will never understand, not when you've had that man down on his knees, eating you out like he was on death row and you were his last meal.

Your hope is that both of their stupid asses feel your heated glare towards them. They don't notice it though, mainly because you're best friend pulls you out of your thoughts.

"The sooner you get over him the sooner my life becomes easier." Your best friend jokes. Their attempts at lightening your mood are ineffective. How could you be in a better mood when the man of your dreams only wants sex from you? You want him, badly, but he doesn't want you.

This was something you were aware of before sleeping with him. Yet, you took it lightly, and now here you are, pouting over him being with another girl.

"I know, it's just-"

They cut you off, "'it's different between us, he treats me better than his other fucks.' I've already heard the whole shebang." Your friend rolls their eyes with a quick smirk.

"He's a college frat boy, there's no way he was serious if he said something in bed. It was probably to set the mood." You know they're right, you're just being delusional. You want your relationship to be something it's not.

The rest of your day was pretty foul. Just as you thought it couldn't get worse it did. You had to present your presentation, because your partner who was supposed to do it has covid, and your other partner is so bad with public speaking that she freezes up.

Your favorite coffee is the only thing that brings you some joy to your day. You're seated in your favorite booth at your favorite cafe. You take small sips and check your social media feed. It's then when you hear your name being called out.

You don't bother to turn to look because you know who it is. He sits at your booth, unaware of the anger you feel currently.

"Don't you have someone's pussy to be buried into?" You ask with venom.

Atsumu gives you that cute little chuckle, you hate it so much right now. It feels like a tear to your pride.

"Only if it's yers." He suggests with a smirk.

"I'm really not in the mood right now Atsumu, why don't you go entertain that girl from bio." Shit, know he'll know and tease you. He'll probably cut things off with you and-

"Oh her? I was just tryin' to get her to do my presentation, but she turned me down." He says casually. This is probably the only time you'll be thankful for Atsumu's obliviousness.

"I could have helped you with it." He knows you're smart, and he would have asked you...

"There was no way I woulda asked ya. You always make me do the work, and only give me commentary on my work." He says sighing. You watch as he places those big rough hands of his under his chin.

He's so pretty, volleyball has not failed him once. Even though some of your friends hate his hair; you think it's cute.

Those eyes, so pretty and brown draw you in to him. Also his muscles are just right, he's not too buff but he's also not thin to the point you can't see anything.

"Yeah, it's called improving. I really hope you didn't think you'd get through college with a pretty face and money. College isn't just one big party. At least not for me." You lecture and Atsumu listens, he always listens.

"For starters I do my work now, I ain't slept with a teacher since freshman year which was almost two years ago. Thank you very much." He replies to the shade you send his way.

"Anyway, what is it that you wanted?" You ask with a sigh.

"I wanted to check up on ya s'all. My cupcake seemed a lil' outta it today." Fuck his perceptiveness.

"Just tired is all." Atsumu's eyes narrow at your response. Why'd you think you could lie to one of the biggest liars you know?

"The way ya were acting today wasn't as much 'oh gee im tired' but more like 'my sweetie pie tsumu-bear hasn't been paying me any attention.'"

"If you knew, then why where you trying to force it out of me?" You roll your eyes and look back to your phone as to avoid his gaze and your embarrassment.

"I just wanted to hear ya say it because yer so cute." Atsumu is going to be the death of you. He annoys you to no end.

"Just so ya know, I ain't been sleepin' with anyone besides you, sweetheart."

"How do I know you aren't a big fat liar?" The way he smiles when you hiss at him has your heart melting. Why? Why you?

"I'd be an idiot to sleep with someone else when I got the most beautiful girl in my bed all the time." It's so sweet and sincere, his voice is honest you can tell. It feels like a weight has been lifted off your chest, and that Atsumu shaped hole in your heart is slowly being filled.

"Yeah? What're you trying to say, Tsumu?" You peek up from your phone screen to look at his dark eyes. It catches you off guard slightly, the way he looks at you, like you put the stars in the damn sky.

"I knew ya were kinda clueless but this is something else. I want ya to be my girl."He clarifies and you stop breathing for a second. When you'd fantasize about this you'd never thought his confession would be calm. Atsumu is loud and obnoxious, so this quiet, calmness has caught you off guard.

"Is that a question or a demand?" You ask.

"Not a question, m'already confident in ya wanting me." He's prideful and sometimes it sucks but right now.. it's so hot.

"Okay then, I'm yours." You whisper quietly trying to grasp what you've just said.

"Good, best decision you'll ever make, cupcake." Cockiness is laced in his tone and you roll your eyes.

"I said to stop calling me that," You finally drop your gaze back to your phone, but you aren't even paying attention to the dimly-lit screen. Your brain is exploding right now.

"You're my man now." It finally registers.

"Sure am."

[nightingalescall]

Prelude to Pandemonium

Kingdom of Ebreau:

prologue|part 1|part 2(you are here)

"I can't breathe, Zephyr..."

You panted as you posed for the ending, your legs trembling beneath you from the exhaustion and the lack of oxygen. You've been repeating this sequence for the past several days but it just doesn't get easier, not with your access to air hindered.

Zephyr sighed, his eyes closed. "I'm sorry, Lady (y/n) but this is standard protocol." You went back to standing normally as you lifted up your veil, revealing your sweat-filled face.

"How... How did you do this without fainting?" You expressed your confusion and astonishment at Zephyr as you tried to catch your breath. Zephyr walked closer, his hand holding a towel before using it to wipe your sweat away. "I struggled just as much as you did, Lady (y/n). In fact, you're doing much better than I did in the past." He smiled reassuringly.

"You're not saying that just to comfort me, are you?" You questioned skeptically as you took the glass of water he handed you before taking a sip. "It's the truth." Zephyr reassured, patting your head.

You nodded and handed him back the glass, believing him. "It's just...So hard to breathe with this on and dance at the same time." You complained under your breath. Zephyr reached towards your hair and took off the veil. He fiddled with the fabric in his hands, appearing to be thinking.

"...I'll get someone to make some last minutes modifications." He finally said after some silence. "Is there enough time? The ceremony is tomorrow night." You knitted your eyebrows together, unsure about his suggestion.

Tomorrow night, you will meet with the Royal family of Ebreau for the first time. From what Zephyr told you, you will be given a ceremony similar to the ones they hold for the initiation of newly appointed saints to celebrate your arrival in Ebreau. At the same time, it will serve as your debut to the public eyes. During the ceremony, the Royal family will give you their blessings as a welcoming to the kingdom. Then, they will impart to you their hopes for further collaborations. In response, instead of words, you will perform the Dance of Resonare Auream to answer their call.

According to Zephyr, the Dance of Resonare Auream replicates the movements of high priests from ancient times when they performed rituals to initiate a connection with Calerus in order to seek answers from him. Their movements during these rituals were modified and implemented into this dance. The Dance of Resonare Auream is only performed by saints during their ceremonies as a way to pledge allegiance to the Royal family and symbolises a saint's role as a bridge between the divine and the mortal world.

Being the saint of the temple of Sonnet, it comes without saying that Zephyr also performed this dance at his initiation years ago. Although there are some differences between the male and female counterparts, it's still mostly the same so Zephyr became your temporary mentor and guided you though the dancesteps. The dance wasn't hard in terms of its steps, simple but still elegant and graceful. The difficulty came from the odd tempo of the dance music. It would pick up and slow down suddenly at times, not to mention there are pauses in the music which needed you to count the tempo so you wouldn't come in late or early.

The added on challenge of having to do all that with a veil on was not fun, to say the least. All you've been doing the past week or so was trying to perfect these steps and making sure you were on beat while also ensuring you don't faint during the dance. The ceremony tomorrow night was opened to all citizens to attend. Thousands of eyes will be on you then and you don't intend on making a fool of yourself. What would the people think of their Messiah if you did?

The pressure was on. You needed to do well.

You sighed internally.

If only the veil wasn't part of the standard ceremonial uniform... It'll be one less thing to worry about without it.

Zephyr held up the veil between both of you, drawing your attention back to him and temporarily obscuring your view of his face "For you, Lady (y/n)," he started, a playful tone in his voice.

"Nothing is impossible." He lowered the veil, revealing his wide smile. You felt yourself tense up at his expression and you questioned your own body's reaction. You don't understand why but you suddenly feel uneasy and on edge. Something felt off about Zephyr. His tone was warm and his body language seemed relaxed but his smile looked...Sinister.

However, as quickly as that foreboding smile appeared, it disappeared just as fast from Zephyr's face. "Don't worry. I'll handle it." A warm smile graced his lips once more as he wiped a few stray beads of sweat from your cheek. "You should go back and rest now, Lady (y/n). It'll a tiring day for you tomorrow. Come." He took your hand and led you out of the practice hall, your veil grasped firmly in his other. You followed his lead and came to the entrance door to the hall.

Just as Zephyr's hand touched the wooden door handle, a knock came from behind it and the door opened inwards, nearly hitting Zephyr in the face. "Saint Zephyr." A dainty nun stepped into the hall as she called out, her voice soft and low. Her gaze flickered to you. "A-and the Messiah." She stuttered before bowing hastily to you.

"Yes, Sister Darlene?" Zephyr nodded at her greeting. You've met Sister Darlene a few times before when she needed Zephyr's opinion on some church related matters. From your memory, she was a shy and timid young nun, prone to stuttering and fumbling over her words. Though, you heard she has a knack for singing. Maybe you could befriend her. It'd be nice to have someone other than Zephyr to talk to. (Not that he wasn't good company or anything but some diversity is always good...right?)

"I-it's about tomorrow's transportation" Darlene fidgeted in place. Zephyr nodded, prodding her to continue as he fondled with your veil in his hand.. "S-shall we use the opened air carriage or the closed one?" Darlene asked, stealing a few short glances at you. Zephyr, however, seemed to be a bit preoccupied as he kept his gaze down while feeling out the veil. He roughly measured it using his hands as he replied nonchalantly. "The closed one."

Darlene nodded. "Then, s-shall I also inform the Ordo Concordiae? S-so they can post g-guards along our route?" You perked up at that mention. That's a name you haven't heard in a while. The Ordo Concordiae or the Order of Harmony was the name of the guards you worked for before becoming saint. it's been a while since you heard from them. Would they be present for tomorrow's ceremony too? Do...do they remember you?

Zephyr held up the veil before putting it on you once more. He adjusted it and you guessed he was taking some mental notes about the length of the veil in order to make modifications from the way he tilted your head side to side as he observed. "No need. The Royal guards will be on duty along the route tomorrow." He replied, not looking at Darlene.

You complied with Zephyr, letting him move your head around freely with the veil over your face. Through your obstructed view, you saw Darlene straightened her back before replying. "I see. I will go do the necessary arrangement then. Excuse me then, Saint Zephyr, Messiah." Darlene said as she bowed her head. You felt surprised. That was the first time you've heard Darlene speak so confidently and clearly.

Was she that eager to leave?

You held back a chuckle at the thought. Maybe you should find the time to get to know her.

"Of course, Sister Darlene." With that, she left the two of you alone. Zephyr was quiet as he looked at you. Despite the veil, he still seemed to be looking at you directly in the eyes.

"..."

After some silence, he leaned down and placed a soft kiss on your forehead. Well, the part of the veil that covered your forehead. "Alright, let's get you back to your room now, Lady (y/n)." He pulled back and held your hand, leading you out of the hall and down the corridors of the temple.

You walked beside him as you reached up to take off the veil he forgot to remove from you. The moment your hand touched the fabric, Zephyr's hand shot up and grabbed yours, forcing it to a stop. You tilted you head in confusion.

Zephyr stopped in his steps and turned towards you, now holding both your hands in his. "In the case that I don't manage to get the necessary modifications done in time, you will still need to use this one at the ceremony, Lady (y/n)." He said as he readjusted the veil, making sure it was securely placed on your head. "Thus, i suggest you to always keep it on before your dance comes to pass. Let your body adjust to it so it won't strain you as much." He advised.

"Oh...I see." You didn't want to wear this annoying headpiece wherever you went but he made a good point. Reluctantly, you agreed. "Alright." You sighed, feeling defeated. "Good." Zephyr patted your head before continuing to lead the way.

You arrived in front of your room shortly after and Zephyr bid you farewell as you entered. The setting sun could be seen outside the window in your room. Its glow painting your room in a soft orange hue. You sighed as you walked over to your bed before limply flopping onto it. You buried your face in the sheets, smelling the light flora scent of the soap they used for cleaning emanating from it.

"..."

You did nothing as you laid on your stomach on the bed, basking in the silence. Your mind raced, thinking about tomorrow night. Two years ago, when you first arrived in Ebreau, you'd never thought you'd ever have the need to meet with the Royal family but now, not only was your presence going to be tomorrow night's highlight, you were going to perform for them too!

You groaned loudly into the sheets. The stress was getting to you. "Being Messiah is so difficult..." You mumbled, rubbing your face against the sheets as you coped with your anxiety.

However, the rough fabric of the veil prevented you from doing that too. You felt the sandy texture rubbed uncomfortably against your cheeks and nose. You huffed angrily as you reached up and yanked the veil off you. Throwing the golden headpiece onto the floor, you stuffed your face back into the sheets, actually feeling the softness of it this time.

The whole ordeal of shouldering the future of Ebreau as Messiah paired with the events of tomorrow night already gave you a big headache. You didn't need the extra challenge of wearing something so incredibly inconvenient!

Who came up with the idea of dancing with a veil on?!

"Stupid protocol making me dance like a monkey in a veil..." You clicked your tongue and complained. "How am I going to do this..." You sighed into the bed.

Your whole experience made you realised just how hard it was to be in a high position like this. How did Zephyr survive so many years being saint? It's only been a month since you became Messiah and you felt like you were going to break apart already.

You flipped over on the bed, facing the ceiling. "Calm down." You whispered to yourself, lightly slapping yourself on both cheeks to make yourself snap out of it. Complaining and stressing over it like this wasn't going to solve your problems. You just had to take it one step at a time.

Even if these steps were big strides.

You closed your eyes, letting yourself rest.

It'll be fine. You'll do fine.

You reassured yourself.

Zephyr's done it before so it's definitely possible. It has to be.

You thought, convincing yourself that dancing with the veil on won't kill you.

I just have to control my breathing and-“Believe only what thou sees, lamb.”

!!

You sprang up from the bed, frantically looking around your room for the source of the voice. You quickly recomposed yourself once you realised that it was Calerus that just spoke to you.

You furrowed your eyebrows at his words.

What do you mean?

You thought in your mind.

“What goes unseen is but an illusion.”

Calerus' voice rumbled in your head once more. Even with his elaboration, it was still too vague for you to understand. You asked for more but you were met with silence. It seemed Calerus was done talking to you.

Believe in what I see? Is that what he means?

You tried to make sense of the god's words and why he said them but nothing clicked. In the midst of your pondering, a knock came from your bedroom door.

"I've brought your dinner, Lady (y/n)." Zephyr's familiar voice came from outside.

You pushed yourself onto your feet and went to the door, halting your wondering of the deity's warning.

That could wait for now.

It was dinner time.

~✟~

"Pardon?!" You let out as your eyes went wide. You had just woken up and were having a peaceful breakfast when Zephyr just broke the most ground shaking news to you. "We will be leaving for the Royal palace after you finished breakfast and get dressed." Zephyr repeated and you almost choked on your food.

"I thought we were going this afternoon! Isn't the ceremony tonight? Why are leaving now?!" You asked, feeling absolutely distraughted. You thought you still had the entire morning to prepare and calm yourself! That was why you got up so early in the first place!

"The ceremony is tonight, yes," Zephyr scooted his chair closer to you, patting your back as an effort to calm you down. "but you need to be meet with queen and prince so we need to go early before they get busy with welcoming guests." He explained.

"Won't I be meeting them tonight? Why do I need to go see them now?" You asked, perplexed by this turn of events and desperate to find a way to delay this meeting as much as possible. Zephyr looked down at the table, thinking of how to phrase his next sentence to you. "Tonight's ceremony is more of a show to the public than it is an official meeting, Lady (y/n)." You cocked your head to the side. "I don't understand..."

"Take it as the name suggests. A ceremony. All ceremonies are rehearsed beforehand so everyone involved knows what to do when the time comes." Zephyr explained as he ran a hand though your hair. "The real meeting between you and the Royal family is done in private with only you and them present." You felt like you were going to throw up from the stress.

Your plate was still relatively full but you've already lost your appetite after this reveal. You even requested for something nice and fancy to eat this morning to help with the nerves.

Guess it's all going to waste now.

"I..I'm full now." You mumbled and pushed the plate away. You got up from your seat but Zephyr grabbed onto your arm before you could take a step further. "But you've barely eaten anything, Lady (y/n)." He frowned.

"I don't feel like eating anymore." You admitted as you looked down, feeling guilty from wasting perfectly good food. Zephyr sighed as he stood up before taking you into a tight hug.

?

"You'll do great, Lady (y/n). Believe me." Zephyr whispered into your ear as he squeezed. Your eyes went wide in surprise at his words before slowly softening. You wrapped your arms around him, returning the hug as you buried your face into his chest. The familiar scene of Zephyr's robe wafted into your nose. It smelt of petrichor, calming and refreshing.

"Thank you..." You mumbled, feeling better.

A pair of lips pressed the top of your head as you felt Zephyr leaned down. You sighed softly.

No matter how tough it gets, you know you'll always have Zephyr.

~✟~

The sound of cheering was deafening outside of the carriage. Looking out the carriage window, you saw lines upon lines of people standing beside the road, jumping and waving with big smiles on their faces. You waved back, trying your best to ensure no one is ignores or left out (though it was impossible with the amount of people present).

Horses pulled your carriage along the cobblestone road, their neighs occasionally penetrating the cheers and yells of the crowd, reaching your ears within your ride. Nuns and monks led the procession towards the Royal palace, walking in front while holding various chimes and bells that you've never seen before. The ringing of these instruments accompanied the way as if they were some sort of beat to follow.

Zephyr sat across from you, gazing out the window too with a soft smile on his lips. He stayed silent, letting you take in the adoration the people of Ebreau wanted to show you. His hair was tied up in a ponytail (he did that a lot ever since your accidental compliment on it) and his bangs fluttered gently from the breeze blowing into the carriage.

"Miss Messiah!"

In the midst of the dissonant voices, a certain call, low but clear shot through the air and caught your attention. The familiar pitch urged your curiosity to look for the source. And so you looked. Near the back of the crowd, a man, taller than the rest, stood out as he yelled again with a hand beside his mouth.

"Thank you!"

It was faint but you could make out his words. His structure seemed familiar. Squinting your eyes, you honed in on his face.

!

It was Mr. Citris!

Grinning, Mr. Citris looked beside him with a finger pointed at you. A person stood at his side, though their smaller frame causes them to be blocked by the people in front, besides from the top of their blond head, you could not see any other features. From your faraway position, you saw Mr. Citris spoke to the person beside him before bending down and picking them up.

A young girl came into view as Mr. Citris held her by her waist and lifted her up in front of him. A bashful flush spread across the young girl's face, seemingly embarrassed by her father's antics. The two exchanged a few more words before the girl eventually turned towards you. She waved with a smile.

The realisation finally dawned on you and you almost slapped yourself for being so slow.

That girl is Mr. Citris' daughter!

The girl's complexion was light but not sickly. Her smile was small yet bright. She looked...Well. Mr. Citris must have use the gold coins to buy the medicine. Even then, the medicine doesn't cure her, only slows down and eases the pain which means...She went out of her way to come see you despite her condition.

A warmth spread through your chest. The thought that you successfully helped someone, even just a little bit, was just the affirmation you needed.

Maybe you weren't hopeless.

You waved back, hoping they would see your reaction and how happy you were that things worked out. You smiled, grinned even.

Ah, wait.

They can't see you smile.

They can't see your face at all.

The veil swayed gently in front of your face following the shaking of the carriage.

The joy you felt a moment ago dissipated as quickly as it arrived. You deflated like a balloon but you waved back nonetheless (albeit somewhat dispiritedly).

Your carriage eventually passed the pair and they disappeared into the crowd. Your vision was once again filled with never-before-seen faces of strangers and your ears flooded with their unfamiliar yells.

Everything had been new to you when you were promoted to Messiah. New lifestyle, new responsibilities, new outlook, the list goes on. For this procession, you had hoped to find some familiarity, some remnant of the past to remind you that you weren't always Messiah, that not long ago you were among these crowds of people.

But looking at the sea of people, you didn't even see any guards in black uniform, guards of the Ordo Concordiae, your colleagues. They were perhaps the closest people you could call family in this place (as messed up as it is considering they basically forced you to work for them) yet you could only see white.

White of the uniforms of the Royal guards.

They stood along the road, ensuring no one cause trouble for the procession towards the palace, holding back any who dared to get too close. You continued to greet the onlookers albeit less enthusiastically.

"...Lady (y/n)."

Your head snapped towards Zephyr after he broke his silence. "Let us talk." You cocked your head to the side, confused by his sudden request. He drew the blinds to the window, isolating the both of you from the outside. “What is it?” You suddenly felt uneasy. Darkness shrouded the carriage but a few rays of light came through the gaps, illuminating Zephyr's face. His face was expressionless and lacking of warmth, unbefitting of his usual demeanour.

“…” He remained quiet and it agitated you further. Zephyr moved from his seat across from you to beside you, facing some difficulty standing up straight due to the low ceiling of the carriage. He shuffled to your side of the carriage and sat down. Your eyes followed him as he turned to you.

“…” He was still silent, his gaze dropping down towards the ground.

Cold sweat was beginning to form on your forehead. Seeing Zephyr so quiet and emotionless was concerning if not alarming. “Zephyr?” You called out, leaning in closer until you came into his peripheral, hoping that would finally catch his attention and prompt him to say what was on his mind.

He finally looked back up before reaching over to you. He grasped onto the hem of your veil and lifted it, revealing your golden eyes to him. “You’re worrying me, Zephyr. What is it?” You asked, furrowing your eyebrows. You grabbed onto Zephyr’s hands that were still holding your veil. “Why are you taking it off?” Zephyr simply shook his head and let go but not before making sure it wouldn’t fall back down and cover your face.

“I just…want to see your face, Lady (y/n). Just for a bit.” Zephyr explained, a small smile finally gracing his lips. You frowned, not convinced it was as simple as that. He took a breath before finally speaking. “Lady (y/n), no matter what happens when you meet with the queen and prince later,” He held your hands in his. “Please remember you’re already doing your best."

You blinked. “…What?”

Zephyr pulled you close and embraced you, pressing your head against his chest. He stroked your hair gently. You could hear his heartbeat through his chest, slow and steady. It'd even be calming if it weren't for the current situation. “You don’t have to fix every problem this kingdom has.” You looked up from his chest, eyes swirling with confusion. You pushed yourself off him. Zephyr doesn’t stop you but his arms remain in a loose hug around you.

“What does that mean?” Zephyr sighed and closed his eyes. “…The politics of Ebreau is more complicated than you think, Lady (y/n).” He reopened his eyes and his purple irises stared back into your golden ones. Unlike his, your heart was pounding inside of you, threatening to burst from the stress but you pushed on, knowing this was important. You had to know more. “Tell me then. Shouldn’t I know how this country functions if I am to guide its people?” You pestered for him to elaborate. You unconsciously gripped onto his robe, tensed about what he’ll say. Just how many more challenges were you going to face?

Zephyr’s hands went up to your face and cupped your cheeks. He leaned down, shortening the gap between both your faces. “The relationship between the royal family and the temple…isn’t as great as it seems.” Zephyr confessed. The cheering outside continued on even after your retreat into the carriage but right now, you wished it would stop so you could have some silence to process this information. You tried your best to respond. “What…what happened?”

Zephyr let go of your face before peeking out the blinds. You looked out the small opening between the blinds and windows over his shoulder. The people continued to celebrate the procession outside, their voices not appearing to die down any time soon. He readjusted the blinds and blocked out the people once more. He took a deep breath.

“Things started to get messy 3 years ago. After the war with the Casvians began." Zephyr recalled. "As with all wars, the kingdom has suffered many losses from this ordeal, including but not limited to economic downfalls and disharmony among its people." You nodded. That makes sense...But how did that cause the deterioration of the relationship between the temple and the Royal family?

"Much of Ebreau's money and resources have been sent to the front line in the northeast to aid in the battle with Casviren. The Royal family only has so much money to spare now and they cannot effort to spend it on unnecessary groups or organisations." He fidgeted in his place. It was clear this was a sensitive and top secret topic. You could see glints of worry reflected in his eyes as he spoke. Zephyr was afraid of this information being leaked to the public.

"The temple maintains the people's belief in our Lord, Calerus, ensuring their undying loyalty to him. A common religion fosters unity and reduces dispute among the people as everyone shares the same principle and belief." Zephyr elaborated. You processed his words, keeping your head bowed in thought before asking. "So, basically, the temple is responsible for keeping the peace among the citizens?"

"Yes, that's a good way to put it." A smile graced Zephyr's lips, easing the tension in the air. "But many tragedies have occurred. Much blood has been spilled and even more tears have been shed. The war has raged on for too long and too fiercely. It has made a grave impact on the people, not just economically but also spiritually." He sighed. "They are starting to lose faith. Some even believe Calerus has abandoned Ebreau." Zephyr played with your hair. It appeared unfitting of the situation at first but looking at how he was rubbing and pinching the tip of it instead of twirling it like how he usually does, you guessed he was doing it out of anxiety and not playfulness.

Your mind spun as you tried to piece together the information. You never knew the beliefs of Ebreauans were waning. Have you just not been out and about enough? Surely not. You ran errands everyday for the past 2 years. You were always outside and mixing with the folks. Then that means either you're an unobservant idiot or you've never seen Ebreau when it was still prosperous.

The war started 3 years ago and you only got dropped here 2 years ago. 1 year may not be enough to put a dent, economy wise in a kingdom as wealthy as Ebreau but you don't doubt it's enough to instill fear and cause hysteria among the people.

Perhaps you've never seen the true glory of Ebreau.

Perhaps you've jumbled the chaos with the mundane.

Perhaps this madness has become your normal.

"The temple is losing influence, is that what you're saying?" You muttered and, to your dismay despite expecting it, Zephyr nodded. "Our Lord, Calerus," he sighed, "is no longer a tie that binds the nation together." He looked away before closing his eyes. "We no longer have the means to maintain the peace like we used to." It hurt him to admit this.

"..." You were deep in thought and thankfully, Zephyr was more than willing to give you space to process everything.

People are scared and confused. The war with the Casvians has gone on for 3 years already and currently, it still shows no signs of stopping. The commonfolks are grasping at anyone and anything for guidance in this desperate time. They look towards those in charge, in this case, the Royal family and the temple for assurance and direction, for a spark of hope that they will get through this. But when that fails...

It's not going to end well for the higher ups.

Zephyr took a deep breath and continued. "The palace considers us inept and are an extra weight that burdens them when they already have so much on their hands." The carriage rattled as it went over, what you assume to be, a rock. "Communication between the temple and palace has decreased to when absolutely necessary over the years and collaborations happen only to uphold the act that Ebreau is co-ruled by the temple and royal family." He explained further.

"I..." Zephyr paused midsentence and your breath hitched, awaiting what terrible news he will relay on you next. "I expect them to cut ties with us soon." You suppressed the urge to jump out the carriage this instant and run back to the temple-no, back to the small, little house you rented before you became Messiah. Before everything went haywire.

You buried your face into your hands. This was all too much. It went from bad to worse to horrible. It's been a constant downward spiral these back few days.

Don't cry, (y/n). Don't cry.

A pair of arms wrapped around you and pulled you towards their chest. Zephyr hugged you as he caressed you. His hand going up and down your back as he comforted. "I'm sorry to burden you with so much, Lady (y/n)." You felt him gripping onto your clothes. "I don't expect you to fix these problems. They've been festering for too long." He kissed your head.

"Maybe this country is already beyond salvation."

Your hands felt weak and fell from your face as he murmured into your ear. This kingdom... Ebreau... Your home...

How do you save it?

~✟~

The palace was just in view as the horses trotted closer, leading the carriage from the cobblestone road of the central town to the tiled pathway within the castle compound. Royal guards dressed in their white uniforms continued to stand guard beside the pathway just as they did when you were still on the streets of the central town. However, now with the revelation that people from the palace have a sour (to put it nicely) relationship with the temple, the blank stares of these men felt a lot more menacing and frightening than they previously were.

You met eyes with a certain guard on duty beside the pathway and it could be paranoia speaking but you swore there was ill intent behind those eyes. A chill ran down your spine as you quickly adverted your eyes to elsewhere.

Zephyr was still seated next to you, not moving despite already finished telling you the situation with the Royal family. You didn't mind though, you needed the emotional support for what was about to come.

The palace was mostly white in colour, its roof golden and its doors wooden but painted with silver, so were the window frames. As you inched closer, you could make out figures standing in front of the main entrance.

You gulped.

The carriage came to a stop. Zephyr stepped out first before holding his hand out for you to take. You slowly reached over, scooting towards the open door before stepping down the steps of the carriage, your hand in his.

Your heart was racing and you mentally counted to yourself before lifting your head to meet the gazes of the people before you.

“Messiah, we are so delighted that you’re here.” A silky and smooth voice poured from the mouth of the woman in front of you. The woman had light brown hair, done up into a side bun which hung low and near to her face. She wore a light blue gown, embellished with white pearls and clear crystals around the waist and also the skirt of the gown. She smiled, a few wrinkles appearing around the corners of her ruby eyes. “I am Marika Sinnyala.” She introduced herself, leaving out her title.

Queen.

Marika held up her hand and gestured to the person standing beside her. A younger man, tall and slim. He wore a uniform similar to the royal guards except his was silver, not white and there were some black embroidery around the collar. He had the same red eyes and a face resembling hers albeit it was more masculine. It wasn’t hard to tell who he was and what his relationship with Marika is.

“This is my dear son, Xion Sinnyala.”

The prince strode over, his white hair bouncing gently on his head. A mark of royalty as some would say. As was gold the colour of the divine, white was the colour of royalty. The Sinnyala family had ruled Ebreau for centuries alongside the temple. A striking characteristic of the Sinnyalas were their white as snow hair. It’s speculated that that’s why white symbolises royalty. It wouldn’t be far fetched that as time went on, Ebreauans associated that colour with power and luxury. Most past rulers of the kingdom had that colour of hair after all.

Even the late king.

Xion stopped right in front of you. He reached for your hand, grabbing onto it as he leaned down. His touch was feathery light, you could barely feel it.

It was almost as if he was avoiding touching you.

You resisted the urge to pull your hand back as he pressed a soft kiss on the back of your hand. His other hand rested behind his back. To outsiders, it may have appeared as a friendly gesture. A greeting from a prince to a maiden. Gentlemanly and almost fairytale like. You admit. Something like this, normally would get your heart racing and cheeks flushing.

But Xion, he was staring right at you as he did so.

The mother and son pair may share the same coloured eyes but Queen Marika’s were soft and friendly as she greeted you. Prince Xion, on the other hand, his eyes were piercing and fierce, his gaze felt like a glare. His actions seemed gentle and welcoming but the look in his eyes said otherwise.

You suddenly felt grateful for the veil you were wearing as your lips trembled.

His soft lips finally left your skin but he did not stand back up. Still in a bowed position, his voice, low and crisp, sounded.

“I’ve been waiting for you, Messiah.”

Another voice echoed from within the deep chambers of your mind at the same time, almost overlapping with the prince’s.

“Beware the Heretics.”

~✟~

Ahhhh done! Finally! This chapter was so hard to write since it was less action and more lore heavy. But finally it’s done! I was supposed to get this up yesterday but my body straight up went “hey wouldn’t it be funny to make her sick?” So yeah. That kinda slowed me down a bit. Sorry and thank you for waiting! I hope you enjoyed ^^

Ps: I decided to change the colour for Messiah from blue to orange since it suited better so I’ll go back and change the ones in previous chapters afterwards. Oh and again, any errors you find, let me know so I can correct them!

~

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