#Respect and civility are two different things

[theone]

Secret Santa 2024 (Swiftie Edition)

Hello, or should I say, ho-ho-ho! The time has come for another year's Secret Santa (swiftie edition)! Some of you may remember me from last year - I'll try not to get shadowbanned this time lmao.

The idea is for us swifties to send each other festive anonymous asks, get to know one another and have fun during the holiday season! Making gifts is optional but appreciated.

More info below, please sign up by filling out the google form no later than December 1st:

If you want to participate, please fill out this google form no later than December 1st. The age question is so that huge age gaps are avoided, especially when it comes to minors. This is a minor-friendly event!

Please make sure you have a Discord account on which we can send you a friend request/messages. You can also create one, it's easy! Me and Kat @falklore will be your lovely elves, doing Santa's work once again, but we do not want to get shadowbanned again. As the tumblr messaging system is unreliable when it comes to sending a large group of people similar messages, we will be using Discord. Your emails will not be saved when filling out the google form, and we will message you on discord only for your pairing/if there are any issues or questions for the duration of the Secret Santa event.

Our Discord usernames are ithinkheknowss and falkloree respectively.

We will then pair everyone and let you know who you will be messaging, hopefully by December 3rd, at which point you can start sending anonymous asks. You will also be assigned a different person as your secret santa.

Please have your anonymous asks open and check your discord for our message.

Identity reveal will be on December 25th, as mentioned making each other gifts is optional!

Please be consistent in your asks (if not every day, then every two or three days) and keep things polite and civil. Rudeness and bigotry will not be excused and you'll be removed from the exchange of asks. If you receive rude asks from your secret santa, please report them to me.

Please let us know if you have any questions or suggestions, or if your secret santa has not messaged you at all / for longer than 3 days. Please make sure you'll have time to participate regularly before signing up, so that the person whose secret santa you end up being is not left hanging.

Signal boosts are much appreciated and happy holidays, love you all! 💚❤️🎁

(Header by the lovely @tolerateit 💚 )

[cioud-berries]

Mutual Benefit || Chapter 1

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Hello all! This is my first ever time posting a fanfic on tumblr so I apologize if things are not formatted correctly! If you have any questions or thoughts feel free to reach out to me!!

Summery:

Posts season 2: Spoiler warning!! Being forced into an arranged marriage, [Name] tried her hardest with her unreceptive husband Salo. After his death, she was forced to replace his council position, trying to figure out who she was as a person. Sevika never expected to get anywhere close to the council, let alone join them. As the stigma around people from Zaun still stood, she struggled to gain the respect from her new fellow councillors. With so many differences how could the two really help one another?

Category:

Sevika x Female Reader || 18+ themes

Chapter Warnings:

Season 2 Spoilers, Toxic relationship (with salo), Mostly a Salo x reader but that ends after this chapter

Word count: 2,411

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Mutual Benefit Master List || Next Chapter ->

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Arranged marriage. Such a depressing concept. Being sold for the benefit of others. The best outcome, you find love and are content with your life. Worst case scenario: you spend the rest of your life with someone you absolutely despise.

[Name] was sadly subjected to such a fate. After the civil war in her country ended, she was immediately shipped off to an unfamiliar country. Being the only female to survive, it was her ‘duty’. This would allow her country to obtain the resources needed to rebuild. 

She was to marry Councillor member Salo in Piltover. To both her happiness and dismay, he too did not want this kind of arrangement. He was the head of his own clan in Piltover. His many advisors pushed him to agree to this.

Next thing they both knew, they were shoved in a room alone, left to get to know each other in such awkward circumstances. Things were silent between the two for a long time as Salo downed one glass of wine after another. 

Finally, Salo was the first to speak. Asking the random question “Do you like the theatre?” He was only met with a hesitant nod. He chuckled with a small smile. “Things might work out.”

She walked down the aisle to marry the man she had only spoken a few words to. They both made it very clear how unhappy they were in the situation. Thankfully, they weren’t forced to engage with one another after the ceremony, separating from one another immediately.

They spend most of their time together watching performances, whispering back and forth their thoughts. After a few months, their relationship had turned into a friendship of some sort. Respecting one another while acknowledging that neither one of them wanted to be there.

For the most part he was bearable. Taking care of any finances she needed. He bought her a separate apartment, so she could live separately. Invited her to any party that was being held. Allowed her to have her own separate life if she wished. 

She quickly fit into the higher society in Piltover, making friends with his fellow council members, often confiding to them about her current marital status. They didn’t have much to say, not having been in that situation.

He too had his own life. Finding love and physical intimacy outside of their marriage. She could care less. What she did care about is that he wouldn’t allow her the same freedom. “Something like that could ruin my reputation.” He lazily told her. She was beyond furious, yet couldn’t bring herself to defy his demand. 

It didn’t take too long for Salo’s clan advisors to question the lack of heir. She of course agreed to it, but hated every second of it. She knew she was more attracted to women than men, but that moment had completely confirmed that she had no attraction to men. 

He left her right after, not wanting to do anything else. She laid in her bed alone, crying and she hated the feeling of being left alone after having to be so vulnerable. She could only hope that it did the job and they would never have to interact in such a way again.

Thankfully, nine months later, she gave birth to their daughter Sasha. Salo seemed different with Sasha. She thought that Salo wouldn’t be a caring father, but to her surprise, he was for the beginning.

Sasha for the most part lived at [Name]’s apartment. Salo visited often until she was about three years old. [Name] realized their daughter needed to have both parents in one household to be raised properly. 

Salo complained a lot about it, not wanting to live there. But the second he saw his daughter, his demeanor completely changed. In Sasha’s eye’s, they were a happy loving family. But things were so far from that. Salo often spent his nights elsewhere, always being back before breakfast.

There were sometimes happy moments in the home, making [Name] almost believing that this life was a happy one. Listening to music, they would sometimes dance in the living room, their daughter joining in, turning into them both dancing with her. 

Most of the time, they fought, yelling back and forth about meaningless things. This made them realize that the only reason their relationship had worked for the past few years was because they were apart and there was no relationship. 

Salo started coming to the house less and less, preferring the comfort of his theater and other women. He was completely moved out by the time that Sasha was six. [Name] had to start searching him out with their child in her arms, just so she didn’t have to explain why her father didn’t want to be around. 

Her daughter was everything to her. Truthfully, the only good thing in her life. She despised Salo for making Sasha cry for his absence. When he did spend time with his daughter, everything was perfect. But those moments were fleeting. 

At some point, [Name] began praying that something would happen to Salo. Some real excuse for why he couldn’t be around more often. When the explosion racked through Piltover, she ran over to the window, seeing the council room collapsing to the ground. 

She hated to admit that her heart clenched in excitement. The only way she could get out of the marriage was if he died, and she wished that it was true. Dropping Sasha off at a neighbors, she ran as fast as she could to the building in nothing but her nightgown and robes, not even a shoe on her feet.

Arriving at the building, the guards immediately let her through, knowing who she was. Ambess, the mother of councilor Mel, led her to the victims. There were a few bodies covered with a white cloth. 

Walking up to the dead bodies, she prayed to the Gods above to be free. Before she could view any of the dead, she heard her name be called out. She turned to see her husband laying in a cot, reaching out to her as he sobbed.

“My wife.” He called in a cry. “My legs-”

When she approached, he grabbed her by the hips, pulling her close enough to wrap his arms around her upper thighs and cry into them. He grieved over the loss of his mobility. It reminded her of the way her daughter would cry over the loss of her father that wasn’t even dead. The father that was merely down the street that could take an hour out of his day to play with his daughter.

[Name] felt no sympathy and wished the ruble had landed on his head instead. Yet she said nothing, she did nothing, letting him sob into her nightgown. 

He finally moved back into her house. But not because he wanted to, but because he needed to. Being his wife, [Name] had to take care of him. ‘In sickness and in health’ was really testing her patience. 

He was harder to take care of than Sasha, a literal child. Sasha was excited to have her father back, often jumping on him without realizing it hurt him. He would yell at her, pushing her off the wheelchair. Feeling rejected by her father, she would cry. [Name] was stuck with having to come up with a good excuse for his actions to make her feel better. 

He was demanding. He was rude. He was hateful. But worst of all he was ungrateful. The only joy in her days was when Ambessa would come to take him to the council meetings and [Name] finally got to have alone time with her daughter. 

Salo would come back from these meetings talking about war. Thankfully Sasha would already be in bed by this point so she could let her facade down. He wanted to wage a full fledged attack on the people of Zaun. She disagreed with him deeply, knowing the outcomes of the civil war.

“What do you know about war?” He spat at her without thinking.

She dropped the plate she was cleaning from dinner it shattered on impact with the ground. Snapping around at him she gave the most hateful look. He was stunned, never seeing that kind of expression on her before. “Ask my dead sister and brother.” 

Stepping over the glass, she walked past Salo in his wheelchair, heading to her room. He called out to her, demanding she came back and at least helped him into bed. She was beyond thankful that her daughter was such a heavy sleeper and wouldn’t wake up to his pathetic cries. 

After a while he stopped, and when she woke up, he was gone, living back at the theater. She was determined to never see him again. But after too many days off Sasha crying over her missing father, she finally caved. 

Out front of his door, she told Sasha to wait there for a moment before entering into his private suite without knocking. He laid on the couch as a woman painted purple liquid onto his legs. They both jumped, startled at her entrance. 

She didn’t even flinch at the sight. “Get dressed. Your daughter wants to see you.” Her tone was harsh and left no room for defiance from him. The woman swiftly packed her things, which Salo clearly didn’t agree with, grabbing her arm and forcing her to stay. 

“She can come see me later, I’m in the middle of something.” He harshly replied back to his wife.

“No she can’t.” [Name] Said with finality, looking at the woman in hopes that she could convince Salo.

The woman ripped her wrist out of his grasp, hiding her face into her scarf. “I was done anyways.” She told Salo, before walking around the couch. 

Y/N followed her out, going to grab Sasha and give him time to get dressed. She whispered a quiet “Thank you.” To the woman for helping her. The woman only gave a slight nod before walking off. 

Sasha ran to her father, excited to see him. She rambled on about what happened the past few months that he was absent. He barely paid attention to her, replying vaguely while looking at the ceiling.

It didn’t take her long before she got tired from all of her excitement and fell asleep on the couch beside him. [Name] was quick to pick her up and head for the door. Before reaching the exit, Salo called out to her again. 

She hesitated, stopping to listen to what he had to say. Deep down she wished it would be an apology. “I am going to get my legs fixed. Lest told me about a miracle worker in the undercity. I want you to take me.” He told.

“You can find your own way down there.” She mumbled, leaving him alone in his apartment. 

Those were the last words she ever spoke to her husband. He had disappeared without a trace. Sasha was devastated to hear about her missing father. With her new found hope, [Name] comforted her daughter. 

It wasn’t until Jayce came to her, confirming her prayers, admitting that he had murdered Salo. She had always liked Jayce, thinking that he was a bright mind and the personification of Piltover. He was distraught, not knowing how to tell a wife and child that he was the reason that their family was broken.

[Name] had cried, but not out of sadness, out of relief. Hugging him, she told him “Thank you.” He was shocked and didn’t understand why she would be thanking him for everything. Not knowing how to react, he only awkwardly mumbled “Your welcome?”

With the confirmation of Salo’s death, the next course of action was getting out of Piltover as quickly as possible, not wanting to experience another civil war. Boarding an airship with Sasha she went home. 

Leaning off the edge of the airship, she played with her wedding ring. After everything that had happened with Salo, she still kept it on. With a deep, happy sigh, she took the ring off, and with as much power as she could muster, she threw it off the side of the airship watching it fall towards the ocean. 

She smiled brightly. Finally free. [Name] looked down next to her to see Sasha sitting at her feet. She was sad of course, she had lost her father, but [Name] wanted to celebrate. Picking Sasha up, she twirled around, kissing Sasha all over her face. After putting Sasha back down, she cupped Sasha’s face, looking her in the eyes she promised. “Everything will be okay. I love you so much, you are my world, never forget that.”

Sasha nodded in response, smiling for the first time in weeks, hugging her mother.

The two spent time in her home nation for a few months. It was good for Sasha to be with her cousins that were around her age. And it was good for [Name] to be around a caring family. 

She celebrated Salo’s death with her brother and sister in law many nights. They would crack open a bottle of wine and throw insults at him as they slowly emptied the bottle. By the end of the night they’d be screaming at the top of their lungs “Good riddance!”

While she thought she escaped Piltover, she was berated by letter after letter from Salo’s clan. They demanded she return to Piltover with their heir. They often brought up the contract that was created in their marriage pact, saying it was her ‘duty’.

They told her how she needed to be the stand in for Salo until Sasha came of age to take over. She couldn’t understand why they couldn’t just choose some other clan member to be head. Plus, she could never see her daughter becoming the head of a clan she knew nothing about. Salo taught her nothing, nor prepared her for the position.

After about a hundred letters, she caved. The clan didn’t want to lose the position of power they had in the council. Learning about the new government that has been formed, she was pushed to become a council member.

Sasha was devastated to leave her family that she grew so close to in the short amount of time that she was there. All [Name] could do was promise that she was going to build Sasha a better future in the new position. 

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Overall Masterlist

Discord link

[britneyshakespeare]

you know i don't bring this up as a light anecdote because it involves me being talked about in really perverted ways behind my back. but when i was like 20 i was part of this large group of friends that was mostly a bunch of guys, and a couple of girlfriends. and the energy if you were a girl starting to hang around them was like. "ok, so who are you gonna hook up with/date?" and it didn't last long bc of course when the answer ended up being "well none of you," the patience they had for me evaporated. lol. so i was being talked about among literally every single one of them behind my back in a gigantic group chat, of like literally everyone in the original group chat (including the ppl who never fucking used it, and it was over twelve people) minus a few other ppl they didn't like, decidedly. and eventually one of my GOOD friends (that i am still friends w to this day) told me about it and then there was the whole drama of people not being able to accept consequences for their actions, not owning up to being cowardly bullies, etc... yawn yawn yawn. truly that was some stupid middle school shit from a bunch of immature ppl that i didn't really take to heart. not the guys, anyway. i was honestly very hurt by a couple of girls who partook in it though, that i thought genuinely liked me and who i genuinely liked in return, so that was shocking to me.

but anyway. after this all happened my sister went OFF on this one guy in particular. bc he had been a nuisance before. he was a slimy creep honestly. i used to feel a lot of pity for him bc i thought he was just sad and wanted attention but that was just my 20-year-old nonsense brain way of interpreting it. he was incredibly annoying and would wear girls down, would hop from one girl to another week after week, each one not reciprocating his constant desperate flirting and lovebombing. and there was a joke he participated in about me and my (also queer, female) friend that was particularly crossing a line. so kaily just ripped this guy a new one when he went to try and offer an explanation. like imagine trying to even talk to someone after you just humiliated and bullied their sister... couldn't be me. like i was literally the one being bullied in this instant but i can't imagine the kind of white hot rage i'd be in if someone did that to my sister. you know? so yeah.

at the end of this rant kaily told him "go to hell." you know. like fuck off. go fuck yourself. go to hell. good old indecent words to throw out at someone you loathe, right? i'm literally ONLY bringing this up because i cannot stop thinking, all these years later, about how one of the girls who participated in it, and was the least apologetic about it (in fact weirdly a year later she came back just to taunt me again and tell me how much better her life is without me and how stupid i was for breaking up a 'wonderful' friend group?? yeah that sounds like the behavior of someone who is over it)... i don't remember where but someone told me she talked particularly about that message to that guy and said "kaily told (name) to burn in hell" like. like that whole time she interpreted my sister as like a conservative christian who was calling him a dirty sinner. bc presumably she had never heard the phrase "go to hell" in a non-literal context before, or just never understood it?? like that girl didn't necessarily strike me as incredibly bright or something, in the short time i knew her, but i never would've guessed she could be so dumb...

but for the record that pervert guy yeah he is gonna burn in hell.

[nightingale-prompts]

Field Trip-DCxDP prompt

(Another Danny the Cosmic Babysitter pompt)

Danny had little patience for the adult heroes with a handful of exceptions. That is most of the heroes are fine but Danny likes to complain because he isn't called to be on missions often.

Instead, he often gets calls on Friday nights to watch Superboy and that means Robin comes too.

Danny is their favorite babysitter and the only people Danny doesn't complain about. He treats the boys with as much care as he does his little sister but he is also pretty negligent. If the boys were unharmed and not traumatized then he lets them do whatever they want. Much to their father's concern.

The boys were dropped off at Danny's portal after school with their bags and Clark gave Danny one of his mother's cheese apple pies and a batch of Alfred's cookies.

Clark wished them luck and reminded them to do their homework and to be respectful to Danny.

Bruce called and reminded Danny to....blah blah blah. Danny wasn't listening he was a busy god.

Danny instead took the boys on a field trip when Jon asked for help on his science homework.

Danny took them to his observatory and showed them just a fraction of the infinite cosmos. The observatory was a place he made to monitor the realms, tracking the path of stars and galaxies, and the life on planets.

"So how does life form on different planets?" Jon asked staring into the rainbow-colored galaxy twisting around them.

"Let's go see!" Danny opened a portal to a far-off desolate world under a purple sun making sure to put a protective barrier on the boys so they would survive the environment.

"Are suns supposed to be that color?" Damian asked.

"They can be any color," Danny said reassuring "Large amounts of potassium salts cause the star to look this way."

The boys looked around on this planet hoping to see new aliens. But there were none. Danny laughed at their puzzled expressions.

"This planet has no life on it. In 5 billion years the right conditions will be met to form organic life when this star burns enough of the potassium around it. Frozen ice in asteroids will hit this planet and water will form and the heat will create an atmosphere. Organisms will form and die and for a brief moment, this world will have life." Danny explained laying out the beginning of life.

"What? So they won't live? Why not?" Jon asked in distress of the idea.

"Haha, don't worry. That's how it's supposed to be. Life is a miraculous thing and the beings that will one day grow here are one of the billions of planets that share the same fate. They will never gain sentience of course but they will live and living in a universe so fickle and absurd is a testament. Think of just how amazingly it is to live on earth." Danny said taking the boys into another portal to a world populated by beasts.

Alien beasts that walked on four legs and birds flew.

Damian marveled at the giant birds that dwarfed any on Earth.

"This is a super planet with enough oxygen to support 50 Earths. Full of life and animals who have evolved from the small bacteria that would have died like on the planet before had the environment been different. Life is a roulette wheel though and even the same environment could yield different results." Danny said as they stood on the grassy clift.

"There really are no people?" Damian asked.

"No, and there never will be. You two are the only people who will ever reach this planet. This world will never know society. No government. No civilization." Danny hummed in thought.

"That's a good thing." Damian said.

"Is it? Maybe. Even a lowly beast still looks up at the sky and dreams of a better existence. But here this world will never know a truly peaceful life. It will always be predator and prey. Survival is all they know. No, they will mostly live short lives knowing only fear and violence. They will not know art or music, things gained from learning and sharing. They have not reached that part of development and they never will know. An ice age will soon come when their planet loses its orbit and they will all die." Danny said as he ushered the boys to another world.

Jon and Damian when silent in despair. Learning the benign cruelty of the universe was harder when you had to see it.

The next was a world that was a smoking wreckage.

"This world was once populated with billions. The people had evolved from the smallest life forms, surpassed their beastly heritage, and grew into tribes. They built cities and hubs. But they also built weapons. The truth is boys that the progress of a species hinges on the ability to evolve and the greatest driving force is competition. The greatest opponent is yourself. These people chose to give in to that call and they suffered for it. Some turned towards the stars and had long fled to start a new life on another planet." Danny said soberly.

Damian and Jon looked at the space god and noticed he suddenly didn't look like his usual self. He was slightly weathered and creased at the edges.

Danny opened another portal to another world. A city full of lights where below them.

"This boys is a planet of strange aliens. They dream constantly of a better life but don't know how to achieve it. They work together and they break apart, always arguing. But time and time again they come together to prove they care for one another. True there will be those who work against this collective and care only for themselves. Take pity on them, they have succumbed to their instincts from when they were just simple beasts trying to survive. If they can one day look up and see that all they have in this lonely universe where life can be blinked out of existence if the tide shifts differently then they'd truly become a better species. Boys you must understand that your existence is nothing short of a miracle upon miracle. We are all made from stardust and it is next to impossible that you exist at this moment but despite all odds you are here." Danny said as he flew over the city carrying the boys.

As Damian and Jon looked down they recognized landmarks this was earth.

"Will the same thing happen to us as that other planet?" Jon asked.

"I don't know. You mortals tend to surprise us. I can probably predict a billion futures and still be wrong. I'll have to ask the time god. Still, there is no telling what I do know is that the future will have you two and that tells me that it's going to be okay.

[satorhime]

recess + gojo satoru ── ◜ ⪩⪨ ◞

── ◜ ⪩⪨ ◞ content : dad!gojo, f!reader, fluff, comfort, reader ‘n’ gojo r not the best parents but they just wanna comfort their sweet baby girl, reader is referred to as ‘mrs’, ‘mama’, school fights, light discussion of insecurities, bullying + discrimination･｡･ w.c. 2.2k

── ◜ ⪩⪨ ◞ synopsis : you, satoru, and your daughter’s first trip to the principle’s office.

── ◜ ⪩⪨ ◞ notes : i am in the fluffiest mood ever for my dear heart so i present u another one of my dad!gojo fics. this one tugged at my heart strings tho :( not proofread!

the school calls and says that your five-year-old daughter got into a fight with another student during recess, and the first thing satoru asks is “did she win?”

an hour later, the two of you are sitting in the middle of the principle’s office on a worn, brown leather couch while an aide fetches your little girl from lunch. the differences in your respective reactions is stark, a contrast of color that can be seen throughout your relationship.

while you are respectful of authority, nodding along and gasping in horror with your hand clutching your necklace as the principle explains that your daughter was seen punching a little boy in the sandbox, satoru has his legs kicked up on the principle’s big oak desk, his head thrown back in full blown laughter. you have to lash out, smacking his chest with your fist just to get him to quiet down— only for him to retaliate with a pinch to the side of your thigh.

“i believe i see where the violence comes from,” the principle clicks her tongue over the melodramatics of satoru coughing and spitting after your hit, her lip curled in disapproval. she has a severe look about her, like the suffocatingly conservative elders in satoru’s clan. “mister and missus gojo, you must know this behavior is highly inappropriate.”

“we’re sor-”

“you never answered my question you know,” satoru cuts you off before you can apologize like a good little student yourself, sitting up straight and cocking his head to the side. even though you can’t see his eyes, covered by his dark shades, you can almost taste his amusement in the air. he is not taking any of this seriously, and why would he?

he was the one who taught her how to throw a punch.

“and what question would that be, mister gojo?”

“if she won the fight or not, of course!” he says, punctuating each word with a wag of his finger. with his million dollar grin all wide on his face. some things never change no matter how old you get because you can tell that he enjoys challenging authority. that he decided the principle was just another one of the higher ups who abused their power and looked down their nose at the youth after one glimpse of her personality and leadership.

the principle opens her mouth, likely to scold him, but then the door opens and your little one steps through with the aide carrying her backpack. her head is hung low, her chin tucked against her chest and her fists are bunched in the hem of her uniform skirt as she walks in— the very picture of guilt.

“you can ask her instead,” the principle concludes, and you become a little closer to seeing gojo’s approach to things. you don’t like the way she looks at your baby, ready to toss the key away for a kindergartner who can barely speak properly without even knowing if she initiated the fight or not. you grit your teeth, though. you’re trying to be civil, for crying out loud.

after all, your child doesn’t need two maniacs for parents.

“miss gojo,” the principle calls, addressing your kindergartener directly. when she raises her chin, she has a defiant look in her big, glacier blue eyes that rival’s her father’s own. there’s a fleck of rice stuck cutely to the side of her mouth, no doubt from the onigiri you packed in her bento this morning. her little white plaits are in disarray, the colorful barrettes you accessorized her hair with lost and nowhere to be found, and when your eyes drop down to her hands, you can tell that she’s hiding her bruised knuckles in her skirt. “do tell us what happened, and absolutely no fibs or tall tales, please.”

“uhm…” her eyes roam the room, intimidated by the adults watching her with expectation. she earns a patient nod and smile from you, and a cheeky wink from satoru over the rim of his glasses. taking a deep breath, she mumbles, “uhm. i was playing in the big box and sōta-kun started saying mean stuff so i punched him real hard.”

“and do you think that was an appropriate approach to someone saying something you don’t like, miss gojo? our school does not condone violence or bullies. we teach kindness and communication.”

“i thought he would dodge! dada always dodges my hits when we train,” she huffs in defense, blowing air into her cheeks. you shrink in your chair, placing a hand over your face in embarrassment because you know exactly what she’s about to say next. “aaaand, dada told me that whenever i don’t like something someone say, i can just blast them off the face of the earth when i get strong!”

“i do recall telling her that,” satoru takes credit proudly, his grin turning mischievous.

“satoru,” you warn, sighing. “really not the time.”

“i’m seen but silent.” he spreads his palms in surrender, mocking what you always tell your daughter to be when she makes too much racket in public. “and pretty.”

“it seems that neither one of you are concerned with your child’s concerning behavior. you make quips while her fellow student had to be sent to the infirmary because of her actions,” the woman’s voice is grave and authoritative, cutting through the lackadaisical attitude swirling around satoru. his posture never changes, but you can see the moment his spine straightens. “the child’s parents are demanding she be expelled.”

“what’s ‘expelled’?”

“i’ll explain it to you later, my love,” you whisper.

“sheesh, these old geezers are all the same,” he whistles, rolling his eyes.

“excuse me?” she demands, turning red.

“what my heart means to say,” you hiss through clenched teeth, cutting a glare so dark at him that his grin falters. though you’ll have no control over it later, it’s no secret the path you want for your little girl. you have not mistaken the abnormal luminescence in her eyes for anything but what it is, what it will develop into. she inherited her father’s powers, and it’s important that you give her even the tiniest semblance of a normal life. going to a good school with children on the outside, at least at first, is the first step to that. “is that surely, this can be handled with leniency? we still do not know what was said to cause her to react this way and-”

“it does not matter what was said,” the principle barks. “our academy has no need for violence, nor… a peculiar like her who-”

“if i were you, i would be careful with your words,” satoru’s voice lowers and he leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “it’s her first offense, ain’t it? she’s five. just let her apologize to the kid and suspend her for a couple of days, if you gotta.”

“if not,” he drawls, standing up and stretching his arms casually. you know it’s time to leave when satoru starts threatening people— you hold out your hand to your daughter so that she can take it before grasping onto satoru’s sleeve and hauling him towards the door, too. “i may suddenly become interested in a transfer and a promotion.”

you almost roll your eyes because he doesn’t even have a real license to teach.

“you are over the line, sir. you must know that threats-”

“think about it!”

and then, he grins one last time at the gobsmacked principle as you begin hauling your two troublemakers out of the office.

each of your daughter’s tiny pinky fingers are curled around one of you and satoru’s as you all walk home afterwards, linked together. she still looks so crestfallen, so guilty it almost makes gojo chuckle, but he settles for an amused grin cocked to one side of his glossy lips. she keeps sighing exaggeratedly, and there is never any denying whose daughter she is.

“soooo,” satoru is the one to ask, surprisingly. he usually lets you play the villain in the storybook before bedtime. “what did the brat say that made you knock him out with a right hook, princess? hitting without a reaaaally good reason is bad. i think i forgot to add that in my lesson last time.”

it’s the question that’s been brewing in the back of your mind as well— why did your gentle baby girl get into a playground brawl with another student? has she been displaying this behavior at school all along? you knew that satoru training her before she could even read a book properly was a horrible idea, but you had wanted to compromise with him since you had decided she would be raised away from sorcerers during her childhood.

“the left one,” she mumbles the correction, sniffling dejectedly. “i already- i already said him kept saying mean stuff.”

“like what, baby?” you encourage softly, reaching down to swipe a stray tear that rolls down her cheek. you bite your lip, trying to figure out how to approach the beginning of a lesson on how to direct her negative emotions away from lashing out, and into something more rational. “you can tell me and dada, if you’re comfortable with it.”

“yep! we’re perfect at keeping secrets too.”

“him said that mama wasn’t my real one because i look like a fweak and mama and dada does too. ‘cause i got these stupid dumb blue eyes and stupid dumb white hair that nobody else got. ‘s what they allllll say. ‘cause i’m ugly.”

oh.

satoru’s head lifts a little, and the two of you share a look over her head. anger courses through your veins like liquid fire, ending in hot tears bubbling up in your eyes, and suddenly you aren’t interested in reprimanding your child for defending herself. satoru’s fist clenches until his knuckles turn white, hidden in the pocket of his slacks.

you aren’t idiots— you knew that she would be treated differently, in any school. with you being a foreigner, and satoru having unnatural looks himself, there’s no denying that she sticks out like a sore thumb amongst other children in her class with her snowy white hair and her tiny tinted, prescription goggles that people ask questions about, because while she has the six eyes, she doesn’t know how to use it properly yet and her eyesight is bad because of it.

still, the thought of you missing something is heart wrenching. your baby girl is always cheerful when you or satoru or both pick her up from school at the end of the day, chatting animatedly and showing off her creations from class, but maybe … maybe that was because she was relieved to be home again, surrounded by her favorite things and her loving parents, rather than spending hours a day with people who treated her like she was less than human.

“c’mere, princess,” satoru says, bending at the waist to hoist her off the ground. he perches her up on his arm, letting his shades slide down so that she can look into his eyes. you step a little closer after that, placing a hand on her back for support but you’ll speak to her later when the two of you have a little gossip before bed like you do each night, girl to girl. but right now, satoru is just what she needs. “favorite things that are blue like your eyes? shoot.”

“squirtle!”

“good job, princess. what else?”

she takes great care in huffing, her lower lip stuffing out into a pout, lifting a finger to tap the lens of gojo’s shades, “your eyes.” and then she points to the wedding ring on your finger, with a delicate aquamarine stone set in the middle. she always loved playing with it as a baby. “and mama’s ring.” she thinks for another moment. “and the sky!”

“good job. favorite things that are white like your hair? go!”

a little smile plays on the corners of your lips as you listen to them. satoru is eerily good at parenting when he wants to be, and already she’s swinging and humming because he introduced her to a game of listing her favorite things that looks like her.

“oh-! ice cream, and… and, megumi-nii’s ps5, and.. and.. your hair, dada!” she cheers, her little voice full of excitement as she bounces up and down.

“you’re so good at this. all those things look different from you, don’t they? but they’re pretty to you anyway, right?”

“yep!”

“so… come on here, help your old man out,” he prompts. “what does that make you?”

“i’m pretty too?”

“that’s right. you got a buy one get one free, you know! you got your mama’s beauty and you got six eyes, when most kids only have two! they’re just jealous.” he insists. “they all are.”

“i have six?” she asks in wonder, and just like that she’s on board, her eyes going round and wide behind her goggles. he nods, reaching up to ruffle her little plaits with a grin. then he glances over at you, switching your daughter over to hold with his other arm so that he can pull you close, loop a long arm protectively around your shoulders as you walk and just like that, he’s holding both of his favorite girls.

“yep, and they’re the prettiest eyes ever, this much prettier than your dada’s,” you singsong, cracking a grin and spreading your arms out as a makeshift measurement.

“ouch,” satoru whines, playfully offended. “unfortunately, she’s right.”

“i’m prettier than you, dada!” she giggles, and it means the world to see her spirits lifted once more.

“you’re the prettiest in the world, jellybean. never let anyone tell you otherwise.” you pinch her cheek, earning one of those sweet giggles from her. “our pretty, special baby girl.”

later on tonight, you’ll have a more serious conversation with her about how though the world will sneer and treat her differently because she doesn’t look like society expects her to, she is beautiful despite it all. that she is a product of love, of the most ardent kind. and heart, and happiness. that she is the best thing in the world and you would not trade her for anybody else.

tomorrow, you’ll be raising hell against that school for letting children bully your daughter, for a child having to defend herself against discrimination. but right now, the last thing you say after the school calls and says that your five-year-old got into a fight with another student during recess is “let’s get you ice cream that looks like you to celebrate causing your first black eye!”

[luvzshy]

Billie overhearing her friends make fun of her girlfriend’s stutter and her girlfriend is already shy and her stutter gets worse when she’s around other people (real😭🙋🏻‍♀️) I’m a sucker for Billie protecting her girlfriend🥹

Protecting what matters

The house is alive with the sound of Billie’s friends laughing and chatting, filling the air with a lively energy that makes you feel small in comparison. You’re tucked into a corner of the living room, sipping slowly on your drink, trying to stay unnoticed. Social gatherings like this have always been hard for you, and tonight is no different. Your stutter, which tends to get worse when you’re anxious, feels like it’s lingering on the edge, waiting for any excuse to embarrass you.

Billie’s been keeping an eye on you all night, her gaze soft and reassuring every time she looks your way. She knows how tough these situations can be for you, and she’s always careful to make sure you’re comfortable. But as more people arrive, the noise level rises, and you start to feel more and more out of place.

You decide to stay quiet, blending into the background as best you can. Billie’s close friends sit in a small group nearby, laughing and joking around. Billie gets up to grab something from the kitchen, giving you a small smile before she goes. You return it, even though your chest feels tight.

For a moment, you feel a bit more relaxed, knowing Billie will be back soon. But then you hear it—your name, whispered low between two of her friends. You stiffen, your eyes darting toward them. They’re talking quietly, but loud enough for you to catch bits of their conversation.

“She’s s-so quiet, it’s like she’s n-not even here,” one of them mimics, drawing out the stutter in a cruel, exaggerated way. The other friend snickers, shaking her head.

“I don’t get how Billie puts up with it. That s-stutter,” the first friend continues, a mocking edge to her voice. “Can you imagine trying to have a conversation with her? Must take forever.”

Your face flushes with heat, and you suddenly feel like the room is closing in around you. You can feel your stutter getting worse just thinking about speaking up, but there’s no way you can now. Not after hearing that. You lower your head, hoping to disappear, your fingers twisting the hem of your shirt as your chest tightens with embarrassment and hurt.

In the doorway to the kitchen, Billie pauses, holding a drink in her hand. She had been about to rejoin the group, but the tone of her friends’ conversation stops her cold. Her heart sinks when she hears the imitation of your stutter, and for a second, she’s frozen in place, disbelief flooding through her. She can’t believe her own friends would say something like that—about you, the person she loves most.

Billie stays quiet for a moment, listening as her friends continue, their laughter soft but sharp in its cruelty. Her fists clench at her sides, and she can feel her heart pounding with anger. How dare they? You, who’ve been nothing but kind and patient despite how hard socializing can be for you, who’s always been respectful and sweet to her friends—how could they treat you like this?

Without thinking twice, Billie sets her drink down on the counter and strides back into the room, her expression stormy. She doesn’t care about keeping things civil right now—she’s furious. And she won’t let you sit there feeling like this, especially not because of people who are supposed to be her friends.

“Really? That’s what you think is funny?” Billie’s voice cuts through the conversation like a blade, freezing everyone in place. The room goes dead silent as all eyes turn to her.

Her two friends look up, wide-eyed, clearly not expecting to be overheard. One of them opens their mouth to say something, but Billie doesn’t give them the chance.

“You think it’s cool to make fun of someone like that?” Billie’s voice is calm, but the tension behind it is unmistakable. She takes a step closer, her gaze hard. “You’re talking about my girlfriend. She’s shy, yeah. She has a stutter. So what? That doesn’t give you the right to disrespect her.”

One of the friends tries to laugh it off, raising her hands defensively. “Come on, Billie, we were just joking—”

“No, you weren’t.” Billie interrupts, her tone sharp. “Jokes are supposed to be funny. That wasn’t funny. That was just cruel.”

Your throat tightens as you sit there, feeling both relieved and embarrassed. You hadn’t wanted to cause a scene, but you’re grateful that Billie is standing up for you. Still, you can’t shake the feeling of shame curling inside you, knowing they were mocking something you’ve struggled with your whole life.

Billie turns toward you, her expression softening as she reaches for your hand. “You okay, babe?”

You nod slightly, though your heart is still racing, your body stiff from the tension in the room. You manage a small smile, but Billie knows you well enough to see through it.

She doesn’t let go of your hand as she turns back to her friends. “If you can’t respect her, you can leave. Now.”

The two friends glance at each other, guilt flashing across their faces. They start to mutter apologies, but Billie isn’t interested in hearing excuses.

“I mean it,” she says, her voice leaving no room for argument. “I won’t have people in my life who think it’s okay to treat her like that.”

After a long pause, they both stand up, still looking uncomfortable. One of them tries to offer a final apology before leaving, but Billie doesn’t respond, keeping her focus on you.

Once they’re gone, the room feels a little quieter, the atmosphere less suffocating. Billie sits down beside you, still holding your hand, and pulls you gently into her arms. She presses a soft kiss to the side of your head, her lips lingering for a moment.

“I’m so sorry, baby,” she murmurs, her voice full of warmth and care. “I didn’t know they’d do something like that. You didn’t deserve any of it.”

You lean into her, the tension slowly melting away as her presence soothes you. Billie has always been your safe space, the one person who makes you feel like you can handle anything, even moments like this.

“I love you,” you whisper, your voice small but genuine. It’s all you can think to say, but Billie smiles, understanding exactly what you mean.

“I love you too,” she says softly, her fingers brushing gently through your hair. “And I’ve got you, always.”

With Billie’s arms around you and the weight of her protective presence, you feel a sense of peace return. No matter how hard things get, you know she’ll always be there to shield you from the world when it feels too overwhelming—and that’s more than enough.

[skyahri]

Soul |Ryomen Sukuna X Reader| HC

Summary: Sukuna meets the reincarnation of the only person he's ever loved.

Warnings: Implications of sex? Female pronouns. Reincarnation. Fear and anxiety.

- - - - -

"Rin..."

It came out like word vomit before Yuuji could even process what he was saying.

You looked at him, confused. Your name wasn't Rin and you'd never met this man before. Who did he think you were?

He slapped a hand over his mouth. Sukuna had forced his way to the surface just to ramble out a name? In all these years as his vessel, he'd never done something so trivial.

Sensing the flicker of cursed energy, Gojo, Megumi, and Nobara prepared themselves. It'd been a while since Sukuna had tried anything. Some sort of pact he'd formed with Yuuji kept him mostly content, although they weren't sure what it entailed.

It happened in the blink of an eye; Sukuna had taken over and stood directly in front of you, one hand flat on your chest and the other on your face.

"Rin... I could never forget the feel of your soul."

Your heartbeat fastened. An overwhelming feeling of fear fell onto you, rendering you unable to move.

What would you be able to do anyway? He's a God, and you had no abilities outside of actually seeing the damn things.

You had no idea what he was talking about. Your name isn't Rin and you'd never had any kind of encounter with either men until just now.

Megumi tried to move forward, but Gojo stuck an arm out in front of him. Something was off about the way Sukuna was acting, and he didn't think it was threatening.

It would be best to see how this played out instead of possibly starting a war that was never meant to begin in the first place.

"What are you doing? We can't let her-"

"Hold on."

They watched as Sukuna looked you up and down, inspecting your robes, hair, and face with a certain softness. His face was still hard and his movements still confident, but there was just that feeling.

"You look so different, but thats to be expected. Are you fairing well?"

You swallowed hard. His delicate touch did nothing to soothe your nerves. If anything, it only confused you more. He was tucking your hair behind your ear, giving you some sort of smile, and yet you feared he was going to rip your heart right out of your body.

"Um..."

Really, how were you supposed to respond? What sort of answer was he expecting? What were the consequences if you were to answer incorrectly?

Were you meant to comment on how you supposedly looked different? Was it your features? Your clothes? Your haircut?

"I'm scared."

Sukuna paused. You were horrified to have answered wrong, and now you could only hope he wouldn't kill you.

But he did something unexpected; he laughed. A thick, hardy chuckle that made your blood run cold.

Was this the end? How pitiful. Slain on a random Tuesday afternoon all because you wanted to meet up with an old friend. That's not a proper death.

"A thousand years and countless reincarnations, yet you still know how to make me laugh."

He leaned forward and pressed his lips to your forehead. You only had a moment to panic before a lifetime of memories filled your mind.

You remember the time before modern civilization when you relied on hunting in the woods and crops from the neighbor's farm.

You remembered your parents, siblings, friends, and other villagers. You remember your home on the outskirts of town just against the forest line.

But most importantly, you remember Sukuna.

You remember meeting him as a human, and then several years later as a curse. You faced off against him, and although you couldn't beat him in the end, you'd come close enough to earn his respect.

He stood above you, two arms crossed, one on his hip, and the other outstretched to offer you a hand up.

Who were you to refuse such a gesture from the king of curses?

He allowed you to join his temple alongside other followers of his with the condition you devoted yourself to him entirely. The offer was presented as a choice, but the alternative was death, so any reservations you had were null.

You wanted to go with him anyway, but that's beside the point.

From the very beginning of your journey with him, it was made clear to everyone that you were 'special' and not to be bothered.

This fact didn't hold up too well with some of the others, but what were they to do about it? Argue with Sukuna? Tell him they were more deserving of his attention? How pathetic.

He allowed you privileges that would only ever be known to you, like dining with him or joining him on trips. These small pleasantries became grand ones, like sharing his bed and allowing him to claim you.

Your relationship was equal from then on. You were not just a follower of his anymore. He was just as devoted to you as you are to him, and he ensured you knew it.

He'd always make sure to tell you how special you were, that he was taking his time with you and granting you pleasure. How you were his favorite, and no one else could even compare. How others had not been so lucky in the past.

He'd escort you to and from the hot springs, have humans bring you flowers and jewelry, and allow you to see the most vulnerable aspects of him.

He promised his love for you would never die, and here he is a millennia later proving true to his words.

Once the unrelenting onslaught of memories subsided, your hands met his- one still on your chest feeling your heartbeat, and the other slid partway into your hair- and all you could do was appreciate his presence.

You stared up at him. His face was different, but that intense look in his eyes was all the proof you needed that he was still the same man from all those years ago.

Tears beaded up in your eyes and quickly dripped down your cheeks. Crying had never been your thing in the past, but you didn't care to stuff the feelings down. Such a reunion was an occasion enough.

"My love," you whispered.

He leaned his forehead down to meet yours.

"My Queen."

[soleilapproves]

catalyst - chapter 2

Life has many twists and turns- yours included getting rejected from med school and ending up as a manager for your burnt-out pro boxer ex-boyfriend. (Sukuna x reader)

Note: fem!reader

fanfic masterlist / main masterlist

It had been two years since you had seen and felt Sukuna’s naked body. Two years too long. You never realized how much you missed out on his life when your hands began to roam around his shoulders. He had gotten bigger and firmer. His body was always much larger than yours, but this was on a different level. He was an athlete, after all. Shoulders that were once just broad were now bulging with muscles. His arms almost looked like water waves, subtly flexing with every movement. He was thicker than an average man. 

You couldn’t help but wonder if he could bench press you. He did once before, but now it probably would’ve been like lifting a feather.

His fingers and knuckles were rougher than the ones you were used to, probably because of all the sparring and weight training. Most of his body was now covered in harsh black tattoos. The ones beneath his eyes stood out the most because they matched Yuuji’s scars. You wanted to ask what they meant, but you kept quiet, still resenting him for never reaching out after the breakup. Unprofessional, but could you blame yourself, especially with how things have been going lately? 

Unlike you, Sukuna was surprisingly civil after learning that you would live with him. Simply nodded and gave you a brief run down of where everything was in the high-rise apartment. He didn’t even ask why you, of all people, were suddenly helping him. Uraume was surprised but didn’t press on the matter as much.

“You’ve lost weight.” You could feel the vibrations of his rich and husky voice through the washcloth that you were scrubbing across his chest. Your first task as a ‘highly involved’ manager was to give him a sponge bath after his discharge from the hospital. His shoulder was still healing from the dislocation, so he had to wear a cast. “Hope you weren’t studying too hard.”

His comments fall deaf to your ears as you wring the washcloth in the bathtub. You silently wrap him in a warm fluffy towel and mutter a simple ‘up’ so you could clean the foam surrounding the ledge he was sitting on. You could feel his red eyes burning holes into your skull as you wiped down the area. He stayed in the bathroom the entire time you cleaned up the space, almost like he was waiting for you to guide him back to his room despite being perfectly capable of walking.

You thought he was just messing with you like he did back when you were together, but no, he was just looking at all the changes in your body after not seeing you for so long. It’s not like you had social media so he could look up your appearance. 

Sukuna wanted to send a private investigator after you. Still, he knew it was unethical (also because he was afraid he’d find out if you were in a serious relationship. He wouldn't know what to do with himself if it was true).

You groaned as you stood back up, stretching to relieve the pain in your back. “Your back still hurts? I’ve told you so many times that your posture sucks while you’re studying.” His looming presence just had you more annoyed. 

“You should rest.” You subtly tried to suggest that you wanted to be left alone.

“And you should show a little respect. You work for me now.” 

“Uraume’s my boss. Not you.” You were really working up a sweat, and you couldn’t tell if it was because of the humidity in the bathroom or if you were raging on the inside. What made him think he could act all holier than thou after two years of no contact? Especially after being an asshole while breaking up. It’s like you could still see that side of him when you looked into his eyes. “I’ll have dinner ready after my shower.” And with that, you left the bathroom.

-

Preparing dinner was a dull affair. Uraume told you that you need not cook for Sukuna as he had a nutritionist who had created a meal plan for him and a chef who strictly adhered to it. All you had to do was store and heat the meals after the chef delivered them. Uraume also had the courtesy of having meals cooked for you, the same as Sukuna, but yours were more indulgent (more dipping sauces and fewer veggies). You were glad your job was simpler than you expected. In this economy, free accommodation and less money spent on groceries were a blessing.

You opened the disposable box of food for Sukuna, and it had all the things required for a balanced diet. It makes sense; his management probably doesn’t want him to lose or gain too much weight while recovering. It was the basics: half an avocado for healthy fats, grilled salmon for protein, lots of veggies for fiber, and an unimaginable amount of black beans with rice. Funny, did his nutritionist not know that he disliked them? Unlike him, you never had an issue with the legume, so you took some out of his box and put them in yours. So what if he had fewer beans for dinner? The man was injured, and as much as you resented him, you weren’t going to be a monster with him.

Sukuna entered the kitchen, sans t-shirt. You didn’t bother asking him why he was half-naked because you knew his reasoning would be something about you already knowing what his bare body looked like. 

Not with all the new muscles you didn’t. But you brushed that thought aside. 

“Is that my old shirt?”

You looked down and noticed that your oversized t-shirt was indeed his. It must’ve been in the back of your closet while the movers had brought in all your stuff. You had a lot of oversized clothes, but by some miracle, you happened to wear one that belonged to your ex. Your ears felt hot with humiliation. 

“I didn’t realize it. Must’ve forgotten to throw it away.” You said while setting up your plates. “It’s fine. Keep it. Haven’t thought about that shirt since… well- whatever. Just keep it.” He almost said it. He almost talked about it out loud. It felt weird hearing about it after so long. It shouldn’t be this strange. The breakup was a mutual decision that you both made and though it was something you had done out of pure frustration and anger, it was still something you both had done together. Pretending like it never happened was just never going to work. Not when you were meant to be with him 24/7.

However, you decided to push that conversation for another day. If it’s meant to happen, then it’ll happen; there’s no point in rushing it. You slid your plate next to your former lover’s seat on the dining table, and he said nothing when he noticed that he had fewer beans than you. Thank goodness. He didn’t need to know that you were still a little soft for him despite all the prickliness of the past.

You were about to lift your fork to eat when Sukuna loudly cleared his throat. “Aren’t you gonna feed me?” he flatly asked. 

“I’m not your-” you were about to tell him off, but then you remembered that his dominant hand was in a cast. 

“- sorry.” Embarrassed once again, you picked his fork up to feed him a piece of broccoli. “Sprinkle a little salt on that,” he said while chewing, giving you quite a gross view of the ground vegetable in his mouth. You held back your grimacing for the sake of your job and did as he asked. He grinned when you placed a salted broccoli in his mouth. “Now, give me a little salmon with that.” 

“Sukuna, can you please chew with your mouth closed,” you said while cutting out a bite-sized piece of his salmon. “You still love nagging me, huh? Also, cut a bigger piece. My mouth’s bigger than yours, hon.” 

You glared at him through your lashes and swore you could almost see him smile. Not the genuine kind, but the type that made you want to slap his face. His gorgeous, chiseled face. The one that once looked at you with everlasting love. You squeezed your eyes shut to escape your stupid daydreams. 

The past is past. You’re now in front of an egotistical dumbass. Not your lovable ex.

You cut up a bigger piece of salmon and tried your best to stop yourself from shoving it into his mouth. “That’s more like it,” he mumbled (after chewing since you had so respectfully asked). 

If only you knew that Sukuna was ambidextrous because he had broken his dominant hand while sparring too many times.

-

The last task for the day was icing his bruises for a few minutes before bed. Sukuna was sitting on his bed, head facing you while you were close enough to stand between his legs. He ignored his urge to pull you into his embrace for his sanity. After preparing the ice pack, you pressed it on his purple and yellowing bruises. Uraume had told you that he refused any kind of treatment back at the hospital, so they were getting worse. 

They weren’t wrong; you could see the pain on Sukuna’s face after he had neglected his wounds for so long. He had a particularly gnarly one beneath his left pec, and you bent down to reach it properly. Your head was below his chin, and he could smell your shampoo.

Strawberries. He noted that you still hadn’t changed your shampoo. You were always a stickler for consistency. He began to feel nostalgic as he remembered that there was a time when he used to smell like the same shampoo after staying at your place. His mind drifted to when you both showered together for the first time, how you lathered the shampoo in your hand and carefully massaged it on his scalp. No masseuse or physiotherapy had ever been that relaxing for him compared to the magic in your hands. He remembered how his pillow would smell like you for hours after you’d leave his place. Now, seeing you here was getting him worked up. Would his house begin to smell like your perfume now that you were here? He wanted to set fire to all your clothes and only let you wear his if it meant that all his clothes would smell like you. Two years have gone by, and he still feels like he wants to inject you in his veins.

All while Sukuna was in his nostalgic dreamland, you were trying your best not to focus on his pebbled nipples, courtesy of the ice pack.

—

taglist: @sukubusss @kyo-kyo1 @kensqueent @totallygyomeiswife

[stevesgother]

Take It Off - S.H

Pairing - Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader

WC - 2.4k

Warnings - THIS CHAPTER IS 18+ MDNI, ONE use of Y/N (pls give me a break it was essential to the plot), swearing, drinking, angst

AN - the 3rd and final part to the Dress mini series! I’ve never written anything smutty or remotely spicy so I hope this doesn’t read as awkward as it felt to write. i appreciate all the support on my first fics i’ve ever written. love , emma <3

Now

New Years Eve

1987

The Harrington residence had always been the go-to for ragers in high school. Devoid of parents, unlocked liquor cabinets and plenty of unoccupied bedrooms for steamy teenage rendezvous’; but this party would be different. Smaller and more intimate.

Nancy was helping you unload the groceries you had bought for the party tonight when she noticed a shift in your demeanor, you seemed on edge. It took her an entire year to stop staring daggers at you in public, making group settings tense. Nancy knew that Steve had the hots for you. As a matter of fact, it seemed like everyone knew, everyone except you. It was in his lingering touches and the longing glances. She had always known.

Now, the tension between you had withered and snapped like nothing more than a frayed rope pulled too taut. She wasn’t your best friend, and you weren’t hers; but there was a mutual respect. There was civility. She had Jonathan now, and they were happy.

“Do you think it’ll be awkward?” you ask, scared to know her answer.

Then

December 1987

The sun was shining through the windows in thick, golden beams that highlighted the slope of Steve’s cheekbones and the moles that dotted down his neck and disappeared below the collar of his t-shirt. Little specks of dust float through the air, illuminated by the light seeping through the curtains.

You take a moment to admire how ethereal he looks like this. You’re a tangle of limbs when you look down; even in your subconscious you long to be close to him. A sudden melancholy washes over you as you realize this would likely be the last time you ever wake in this position. Nose to nose, his arm strewn haphazardly across your middle.

He must sense your staring because slowly, he starts to peel open his eyes. It takes him exactly 4 seconds to realize he is in fact, not dreaming, and has accidentally enveloped you in his sleep. 

“Oh--” he startles groggily as he hurriedly pushes himself away from your side of the bed. “I’m sorry, I- I must’ve-” you want to protest at the lack of warmth his absence brings.

“No, you’re okay! I didn’t notice. Honest.” he looks skeptical; afraid that he might’ve crossed a line he can’t uncross. You reach a hand toward him, “Steve, it’s alright. You kept me warm actually,” you chuckle, “it’s freezing in here.”

He nods, clumsily stumbling out of bed and the tangle of sheets you two had found yourselves in. Too late, he realizes his rather compromising position. More specifically, the state of his dick directly after waking up.

“Oh my God!” you shout, moving quickly to cover your eyes and turning your entire upper body away from him. You already knew Steve was…well endowed. Girls love to talk, and those tight, light wash Levi’s don’t leave a lot up to the imagination; but now, with it literally staring you in the face, there’s not a doubt in your mind that that your best friend is absolutely hung.

“Ah! Jesus-” he grabs one of the sheets off the bed to cover his lower half. You realize just how hot you feel in contrast to the chilly air of the cabin. 

“Okay you can uh,” he trails off, “turn around.”

When you face him, Steve’s tomato red with a blush that reaches all the way from his cheeks to the tips of his ears. Still not daring to make eye contact with him, “Jeez, Harrington. You got a permit for that thing?” A poor, ill-timed attempt at a joke, but he chuckles nonetheless.

“Sorry I- uh forgot I went to bed without pants on,” he smiles sheepishly, “I’m gonna hop in the shower before we leave.” You reply with a two-finger salute, finding the loose threads of the sheets suddenly very interesting as he disappears behind the bathroom door.

The drive home was awkward to say the least. Eddie, Robin and Vickie all sensing the tension, but knowing better than to bring it up in front of you. When you arrive back in Hawkins, Steve drops everyone off at their respective homes, saving you for last.

“Thanks again for offering to drive,” you move to open the door but are interrupted by Steve, “Here, let me help with your bags. I’ll walk you to the door.”

You don’t fight him as he takes every bag from you, not even allowing you to carry your own purse. He stands on your porch with you, clammy hands shoved tightly into his pockets, for an uncomfortable amount of time.

“I’d better…you know, get going,” you nod in the direction of your house. “Yeah, yeah okay,” he pulls you into a warm bear hug; his specialty. The gesture feels different. An air of bashfulness radiating from both of you. When you pull away, he has an indistinguishable look in his eyes as he tucks a stray piece of hair behind your ear. His gaze flits quickly from your eyes, to your lips, and back again.

You fear that he might kiss you. That he might change everything. That you might let him.

Clearing your throat abruptly, it seems to snap him out of whatever trance he’s in and he looks just as startled as you do, taking a step back.

“Alright! Bye Steve! Love you!” you rush out as you practically shove your bags inside your foyer and slam the door. As you lean against it, you hear a muttered ‘shit’ as he makes his way back to his car.

Now

New Years Eve

1987

Despite the party being relatively small, just your friend group and a few friends of friends, the house was lively with music and laughter. On the television inside Steve’s entertainment center was the CBS broadcast of the New Years Eve ball drop in New York City.

A game of ‘spin the bottle’ was being played on the floor of the living room. “For old time’s sake!’ Eddie had claimed. You were skeptical, but a boy in the group whose name might have been James, had caught your eye earlier in the night. You thought maybe this could be it. After years of pointless or just downright awful dates, maybe this would be the ‘meet-cute’ you’d been waiting for.

‘Little Lies’ by Fleetwood Mac was playing distantly from the speakers in the kitchen, and then it was finally your turn to spin. You glance up at James before you take your turn, watching him throw a smirk in your direction. What you can’t see, is Steve in your peripheral glaring daggers at him. He’d watched him flirt with you all night, whether you’d realized it or not. It had completely soured his mood, and edged him to pick a fight even if he knew it wouldn’t be fair.

You give the empty coke bottle on the carpet a tentative spin, making it clear who you're aiming for; and when it lands on James, no one’s surprised. Slowly, you rise onto your knees and crawl forward with your hands, just far enough for you to reach out to him. The vodka in your stomach makes you brave as you reach for his face with both hands, and kiss him deeply. He tastes like cigarettes and spearmint gum when he licks into your mouth, earning the two of you wolf whistles and hollers from your surrounding circle of friends.

When the adolescent game is abandoned, your friends opting for one that gets them drunk faster, you decide to sit out for a round. Steve had been muddling around the kitchen for the past 30 minutes, pretending to clean up nonexistent solo cups and dishes.

‘Tell me lies, tell me sweet little lies’

“Hey,” you say lightheartedly as you sit down on one of the stools surrounding the island. If Steve heard you, he didn’t acknowledge your presence.

“So, are you two together?” he still doesn’t bother turning to look at you when he asks.

“What?”

He finally looks at you, expression is unreadable, “You and fuckin’ Bruce Springsteen over there. Are you together?”

What? Dude no-- I barely know him,”

“Sure looked like you knew him with his damn tongue down your throat.” he spits, turning back to the nearly empty garbage bag he had been pretending to throw things in to busy his hands.

He could count on one hand the amount of times you two had genuinely argued, and the heat crawling the back of his neck was starting to feel an awful lot like guilt.

“I’m sorry, what the hell is your problem?” you spit back at him, getting defensive now.

He glares at you, long and hard, “Nothing just-- nevermind. Forget it,”

What's that saying? ‘Loose lips sink ships’? You think what might sink this ship is you, and too much alcohol.

“No. You do not get to do that,” your words slur together ever so slightly, alcohol churning in your stomach, “that’s not fair.” Tears prick the corners of your eye, your voice wobbling at the end of your sentence. It practically tears him in two.

Before he can get a word in edgewise, you’re vomiting a drunken confession. One you swore you’d never make, on the basis that it could change everything you and Steve worked so hard to build.

“God forbid I get to be happy right? That after years! Fucking years, Steve, of pining after you, that someone might like me! That someone might give me the goddamn time of day. That I might love someone who isn’t you!”

“What?” The sincerity and the slight quiver in his tone is almost enough to completely extinguish your anger. If you were fire, Steve was water. He was your Achilles Heel.

The realization of what you just confessed hits you a second too late, and even though you’re practically shouting, you have no one's attention except for Steve’s. Swiping your drink off the granite countertop you storm through the sliding glass door that leads to the Harringtons’ spacious backyard, deciding you need some air. Need to be anywhere except in that stifling kitchen with Steve.

“Wait no– please,” you hear Steve call after you. You don’t stop, you don’t turn around. Beelining for the gate that leads to the driveway, and then to the road. The January air was frigid; it gnawed and bit harshly at your exposed skin but you didn’t care. You just needed to be home.

You could hear Steve’s heavy footfall not far behind you, he was jogging to keep up. Not a chance that he was letting you walk home alone. Someday the world will end, and it will feel just like this does. You spin around to face him, cheeks stained with black streaks of mascara and nose bright red from the cold.

“Y/N!” He sounded desperate calling after you. He felt desperate. Standing there in the middle of his empty, suburban street – Steve felt terribly, consumingly desperate.

Throwing all caution to the wind, Steve strides towards you with a determination you’ve never seen in him. Before you can blink, his warm hands are grasping both sides of your face and his lips are crashing into yours with a passion that only comes from longing. A fervor that only comes from pining and anticipation.

When he pulls away he looks frightened; like he had come to his senses. Before he can start to ramble apologies, you throw your arms around his neck and kiss him back with the same ferocity he met you with moments ago.

He stumbles back with you, only separating for measly gasps of air between kisses and suddenly you feel the cool metal of his BMW against your exposed back. Strong arms cage you in as he fumbles with the door to the backseat. You don’t hesitate to climb in after him when he finally manages it open.

Straddling him on soft leather, your thighs bracketed each of his. His lips move south as he presses hot, open-mouthed kisses to the column of your neck, to just below your ear, to your collarbones.

His hands travel slowly up your thighs, and just before breaching the hem on your dress he pants, “Is this okay?” You relish in how wrecked he sounds already, barely having touched you yet. You respond with a breathy ‘yes’.

His nimble fingers find the zipper of your dress in a blissful sense of deja vu. This time though, there’s an eagerness in his touch. A need to map every inch of your skin like he’s committing it to memory.

He slows for a moment, like you both remembered the situation you’ve found yourselves in. His usual hazel eyes have darkened to a deep brown that sucks you in; their very own gravitational pull. He pulls the sleeves of your dress slowly down your shoulders and glances up in a silent ask before letting the fabric fall the rest of the way; exposing your breasts. Just as his eyes are raking over your newly exposed skin – as if he has a sixth sense for being cockblocked – he reverses his action; making an effort to cover you before you hear a ‘tap tap tap’ on the fogged window. 

Behind the glass is a blurry picture of Robin and Eddie. To say they look smug is an understatement.

“Fucking finally,” Eddie says, exasperated. You try to hide from your embarrassment in the crook of Steve’s neck, like a kid having been caught with their hand in the cookie jar. Robin sends you a poorly concealed wink as she elbows Eddie’s ribs – even more poorly concealed.

“C’mon. You owe me ten bucks,” you hear her mumble as the pair saunter away from the BMW, leaving you and Steve back to your ‘nefarious activities’ as Robin would say.

You try to protest at Steve rezipping your dress but he cuts you off before your complaints, “I’m not having sex with you for the first time in my car,” he tucks a stray piece of hair behind your ear.

“If you insist,” teasing him a little, you poke his chest, “Bruce Springsteen,”

“Not funny,” he tries to deadpan, but the smirk permanently on his lips gives him away, “You know I'm way more of a Tom Cruise.”

[bitter-hibiscus]

bear with me as I overanalyze Jason's grave

there's like, a lot to talk about when it comes to Jason's grave, but let's start with the most important part: The casket.

The difference between a coffin and a casket is that a coffin has six sides, while a casket has four. However, the context in which caskets started to be used serves us great narrative purpose. Caskets started being produced, in America, during the Civil War, as a way to "beautify" death. See below:

It was the violence combined with the scale of death that led to the ‘the beautification of death’ in America during this period, and it was the shift in both name and shape of the coffin that was an effort to distance the living from the unpleasantness of death, and the hexagonal coffins were part of that distancing.

Many early American caskets were still six-sided, but noticeably grander. It’s almost as if the coffin was too honest, too basic and unrefined. The change in name from coffin to casket reinforces this point, as ‘casket’ calls to mind a vessel for storing precious goods, a euphemism, yes, but seemingly also a mark of intended respect. For Americans, the idea of a casket seemed a more appropriate term to honour their dead. (From Coffins to Caskets: an American History by Sarah Hayes)

So, a casket is used in an attempt to honor the dead, and, most importantly, to take away the ugly parts of how those soldiers died in the War. The casket is an attempt to sanctify the dead while omitting the context in which they died, and what they'd died for. *

Another thing that stands out to me is that Jason's grave has an angel statue. Jason's statue, specifically, is a praying angel. Praying angels symbolize that the buried was deeply religious and devoted to God. It's interesting that that pose was the one chosen, since there are poses that symbolize heartbreak, and ones that symbolize people who were "gone too soon" and were "innocent and pure". It feels pointed, then, that the angel Bruce had commissioned is one that symbolizes faith and being guided to the afterlife. Could be extrapolated to mean that Bruce saw Robin as a follower and a believer instead of a child, someone who would always need the guidance of a higher being (such as Batman).

Lastly, Jason was buried in the city graveyard, and not the Wayne Family graveyard. I personally like to think that this serves two purposes -- one, to have Jason's grave in the same place as his parents', and two, to distance Bruce from Jason's death. Bruce regularly visits Thomas and Martha's graves, they're literally buried in Bruce's house. But we only see Bruce visiting Jason's grave once, on his 18th birthday, though it's safe to assume he at least visits Jason once a year.

It also works to say that though Jason is part of Gotham, but he's not part of Batman's mission. While Bruce constantly uses his parents' deaths to fuel his mission and his obsession, he does the opposite with Jason. It's not Batman who failed, it's Jason who was careless, it's Jason who disobeyed orders and went against what Batman told him to. So he doesn't get to be in the family cemetery, because Bruce can't use his death to fuel his bad behavior. *P.S.: Batman Annual #25 uses the word coffin, but shows a casket. Caskets are more widely used in the USA, so I'm choosing to believe that Winnick just doesn't know the difference between them.

[ddollfface]

𝐒𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐭 𝐃𝐫𝐚𝐛𝐛𝐥𝐞

𝙋𝙞𝙘𝙠𝙡𝙚 𝙭 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧

Okay, right now I'm cooking up some more headcanons for Baki the Grappler men, but I just couldn't keep this idea cooking in my brain.

Throughout history, in multiple ancient civilizations, touching one's forehead with one's own has shown different means, all deep and personal. For example, the Maori, natives of New Zealand, have/had a formal greeting where one would press their nose and forehead against the other's forehead. This was a sign of respect and sharing a spiritual connection. Not only that, but in Ancient Egypt, it was a tradition for the Paraoh and High Priests to press their foreheads to the dead, sharing a spiritual link that would hopefully help the dead through the afterlife.

Honestly, the list goes on and on, just proving my point. No matter where you are in the world, it's clear that something about the closeness of the faces while in such a position is special, vulnerable even. And, I'd have to assume, this would carry through to times before human civilization, to a time when we were more animal than human, back to Pickle's time.

At this time, there was no such thing as verbal communication, rather than grunts and growls, so they (assuming that there were other cavewo/men during this time) had only physical communication to observe. Now, it's my belief that there was no such thing as polyamory during Pickle's time, instead, there was mating for life. You found your one, the person you'd raise a family with and protect. This is why Pickle takes your safety seriously, not letting any of the fighters within a ten-foot radius of you (likely more, if we're being honest).

There's no way he'll let any man near you. You're his mate, whether you understand that or not doesn't matter; the look in his eyes tells you enough, accepting that you have no say in the matter.

Besides that, I think that Pickle, seeing as he can't communicate verbally, would show his affection through his actions, providing food, warmth, and protection is his means of love. He'll curl his body around your, much smaller, frame and hold you tight, not letting you slip from his grip for a moment, far too afraid of losing you. He's much like a possessive puppy once his owner comes home, except he's far more deadly than some pup.

Back to the forehead thing, since Pickle can't say 'I love you,' he has to resort to other ways to say so. One of these ways, I think, would be pressing his forehead against yours, letting his eyes close shut, and bringing your body closer to his.

The two of you will be far closer than necessary, his arms wrapped around your head, his hold suffocating. Of course, Pickle will have to be on his knees, bending down to reach your level. The two of you will share air, inhaling the others' exhalations. Though uncomfortable, you admire and are astonished at how trusting Pickle is in you, seeing as his eyes are closed and his muscles loose. Everything about him screams comfortable, homey, and in love.

The action displays trust, exposing such a vulnerability would be dangerous in any situation, but Pickle trusts you, knowing you're his mate, the one person he can trust in this cruel world. He's been brought into this odd place, where nothing's the same, and he's constantly being introduced to new friends, but he's found you. Your presence allows him to relax and understand that, though he's in a new world, he has you, his mate. (I especially see this being true if reader's a reincarnation or was brought back with Pickle, y'know?)

And it does nothing but shock the other fighters, unable to comprehend how a monster of a man like Pickle could seem so calm, so at home, around someone like you (whether you're a cavewo/man, civilian, or fighter). It's incredible, the bond you two have for each other, how just a look from you can calm Pickle.

Anyway, it's just a thought, y'know?

divider by: @benkeibear

[spookwyrdie]

Sweet Spot {part 1}

{part 1}{part 2}{part 3}{part 4}{part 5}{part 6}

Baker Felix x Florist reader

summary: You're putting together the floral arrangements for your ex's wedding as a favor, forgetting how passive aggressive he can be about your love life. Fortunately for you, one of your best friend's in the world comes over to feed you sugar and make you a sweet offer to get back at your ex. genre: fluff, smut, angst if you squint // word count: 2.8k // warnings: adult dialogue, sexual themes, wet dream // a/n: Trying out something longer and fluffier this time! If you'd like to be on the taglist, reply to this post or send me an ask 🥰

(⁄ ⁄•⁄ω⁄•⁄ ⁄)⁄

I have only posted this here and on AO3 - user: spookwyrdie

You should have never agreed to do this. Your fingers were sore from wire wrapping all the different bouquets, one for each bridesmaid, the ring bearer’s pillow, and the flower girl. So far, you were only halfway done with the floral arch and hadn’t even gotten to start on the table settings yet. There were bits of torn leaves, crushed flower petals, and feathers strewn around your apartment, trying to deal with the last minute changes in aesthetic that the bride asked for.

 The shift from a classic summer bouquet to something more bohemian wasn’t impossible, but it was a challenge with the wedding a week away. It definitely wasn’t your favorite aesthetic in the world, but you were determined to make it work.

The question of why you had agreed to do this at a quarter of your normal fee was beginning to fester in your mind, especially for your ex’s wedding. 

You and Johnny were amicable, sure. Civil might be a better word for it. You didn’t have any leftover romantic feelings for the man - that ship had sailed ages ago. The main problem you had now with him is that he always seemed to be in competition with you, always trying to steal your thunder or diminish your accomplishments. It was always underhanded and passive aggressive and you didn’t have the energy to really push back.

Speaking of the devil, your phone pings with a text message.

❌J: hey y/n, just checking in about the florals. Jenny is freaking out and wants an update you: working on them now! [image attached]  ❌J: wow! Hard at work! Is this the bride’s bouquet? you: yep! Putting the finishing touches on it now’s ❌J: it looks really busy, are you sure this is what she asked for? you: yes. I promise I’m following her vision that we spoke about during our last consultation. ❌J okay! just making sure! I know some of these changes need a quick turn around. ❌J: oh also… ❌J: i wanted to chat with you about something you: ? ❌J: I know things have been a little rough in the dating department for you lately but you still officially have a plus one to the wedding, in case you wanted to bring your sister or someone! you: …thanks.  you: Don’t know where the idea that I’m struggling with dating came from, but I appreciate the plus one. ❌J: I had just heard through the grapevine is all. ❌J: there’s someone out there for everyone! You’ll find them eventually. ❌J: like me and Jenny! We were just made for each other 💕 you: okay, Johnny! Great chatting, I’ll get back to work now! 

You swipe out of the text thread and pinch your brow, the feeling of a building tension headache settling right between your eyes. His audacity is always bewildering, he can have such a sickeningly sweet tone while making sure to get a jab or two in to hurt you. 

Sure, you haven’t had a solid relationship since the two of you broke up, but he doesn’t have to rub your nose in it. The relationship ended amicably enough once you both graduated from college, realizing that the two of you were drifting apart as you pursued your respective careers. Staying civil made it easier to maintain the friend group, neither of you had any real reason to be upset with the other. That didn’t mean you were close, you still kept your distance.

 When he had gotten engaged, you were genuinely pleased for him, and a little relieved. Sometimes, when you’d run into each other at parties, he would make it a point to find you and tell you how well he was doing. You’d get the feeling that he was trying to showboat his accomplishments - he always wanted to tell you all about his successes, all the great things going on in his life. 

He got a great job at some law firm, a promotion and another promotion. Then he had met Jenny, they got engaged, and wasn’t it just so cute that their names were so similar? Jenny and Johnny, Johnny and Jenny! It became their whole personality as a couple and he’d corner you to tell you about how amazing she is and how he had never met anyone who just got him like she did. Every time you’d deal with this, you felt like he had poured corn syrup on you with how saccharine he sounded.

He’d hear about your ebb and flow of love and give you such a pitying look. “Oh you haven’t been dating? That’s too bad, there’s someone out there for everyone! Just look at me and Jenny!” Just throwing small digs in your direction that flew under the radar for most of your friends. 

But you knew. 

You knew he was always trying to make you feel like you had “lost” the break-up. 

~~~

A knock at the door brings you back to the present moment. 

“Y/n~! It’s me! Open up,” a deep voice lilts in a sing-song voice. 

You shake your head, trying to snap out of your shitty mood to answer the door. On your doorstep is one of the best things that came into your life with his ice blond hair, freckles, and a smile that could light up an entire room. Before you can say anything, Felix barges past you into your apartment, holding two paper bags with the bakery’s logo on it.

“I brought some new flavors for you to try, I’m experimenting for the springtime,” he says as he starts unpacking travel pastry boxes with different colored cakes inside.

“Ugh, please don't talk to me about weddings right now,” you sigh. He pauses his unpacking.

“What’s up? You sound like someone kicked your dog.” 

“I just had the most passive aggressive interaction with my ex, Johnny.”

You open the text thread to show him. 

“This is your ex?”

“Yep.”

“Damn, he’s not even being subtle about it.”

“Nope.”

The room is silent for a split second before Felix brightens up again. 

“Well fuck that, the flowers look great, despite the boho bad taste. Come try these new cake flavors I’ve been playing with! Sugar always cheers me up.”

You give him a small smile, he always knows exactly how to bring a little optimism into a shitty situation. “Sure Felix, what have you got for me?”

Soon, you have 4 plates and forks out for the different cake concoctions.

“I’ve been playing around with different florals and citrus for spring, so here we have a lavender cake with key lime frosting. Over here, we have an earl grey cake with lemon curd and lemon buttercream. Then we’ve got a vanilla cake with a pistachio filling and a rose buttercream. Finally we have a jasmine green tea cake with yuzu curd and a vanilla glaze,” Felix says, bouncing on his toes. 

“Okay, Mary Berry! They all sound delicious.”

“You have to be one hundred percent honest with me, I want actual feedback on these!” He grabs your shoulders and looks deep into your eyes, your heart skipping a beat briefly at his intensity. He looks so eager for you to try his different concoctions. Most couples weren’t looking for anything too extreme in the way of flavors, most opting for a basic white cake and buttercream, so you knew Felix loved to share the uncommon combinations he came up with.

They were all so beautiful, perfectly cut out and frosted with care. You picked up your fork enthusiastically.

“Fuck, Felix, that’s delicious,” you say, savoring the citrus flavors. Every single one you tried was more delicious than the last. Your favorite had to be the earl grey and lemon. “This one tastes like how a springtime tea party feels.”

He smiles at you, his eyes crinkling into little crescent moons, his freckles stand out when he smiles so brightly.

“Thanks, it’s always nice when I get to play around with flavor,” he says, leaning back into his seat. As he stretches, his shirt rides up to reveal a small expanse of the bare skin where his hip meets his lower belly, the lean muscle definition standing out in the lamp light. You tear your eyes away when you realize you’ve been lingering your gaze on the scant inch of skin.

 “Oh my god, did tell you?” Felix blurts out suddenly. “I’ve been working with this couple for an upcoming wedding. Absolute nightmare. Terrible taste! Guess what they finally settled on for their flavor.”

“I don’t know, something basic I bet.”

“Fucking mint chocolate chip.”

“Mint chocolate??? For a cake???” You reel back in horror. What on earth kind of combo was that for a wedding cake?

“They insisted on it!” he says, throwing his hands in the air. “Well, the bride did. The groom was never at any of these sampling appointments. She was onher own and really pushing for something unique.”

“I guess it’s unique to make your guests hate you for your choice of cake flavor,” you say, grimacing at the thought of a mint chocolate cake. “Disgusting.”

“I feel bad for their wedding guests. That’s such a controversial flavor for ice cream, I can’t imagine how it’ll go down for the entire reception.”

You hum in agreement, picking up your fork and finishing off the last of your cake in one frosting heavy bite. 

“Y/n you’ve got a little-“ he reaches up, gently holding your chin. 

His gaze softens as he looks at your lips and you freeze in place. Your heart picks up speed, hammering in your chest, at this gentle touch. He doesn’t know that you have had a thing for him for years now, but you’ll never tell him. You love having him as a friend too much to ruin it, he’s the one spot of sunshine on dreary days. There’s no chance he’d reciprocate your feelings, he could literally date anyone the way strangers constantly fall in love with him at first glance.

But right now, he’s focused on your lips, his thumb brushing them carefully, swiping the bit of frosting that was left from your last bite.

“Oh my god!” You force out a laugh, pulling out of his grasp in embarrassment. Taking a napkin, you start furiously wiping your mouth. “Sorry! It was really good!”

“That’s the perfect kind of response to one of my baked goods!” He smiles, licking the frosting off of his thumb. Your heart leaps into your throat. 

Felix never seems to notice the effect he has on people, overwhelming charm, the magnetic pull he has on anyone within 10 ft of him. When the two of you worked at the old cafe together, you’d take a mental tally of the number of customers that would leave with hearts in their eyes after ordering coffee from him. You thought that after five years of friendship you could get used to it via exposure therapy, but his allure slams you in the chest all the time.  You try to keep yourself grounded in reality when he tugs at heartstrings like this - he does this with everyone so you try not to lose your head. But the way he’s looking at you now, leaning in close with fierce affection in his eyes, makes the delusion that he feels the same about you seem almost real.

You giggle nervously and move to tidy things up from the table after you two are done sampling. Felix leans against the counter, watching you, as you start washing the plates.

“I have an idea,” he says. “For your plus-one situation.”

“Okay, shoot.” 

“What if you take me as your date?”

“Be serious, Felix,” you chuckle.

“I am being serious, I clean up real good,” he says, grabbing at your waist playfully.

“Oh!” A fork slips out of your hand and clatters into the sink. “I mean- you don’t have to do that.”

“Nah, I’d like to! Think about it, it’d be perfect, Johnny has no idea who I am and I can brag you up while I’m there. Rub his nose in it for a change.”

“I-“

“Just think it over, no rush. I think it’d be real fun though!” 

You look at him blankly for a moment, your heart thumping in your chest again. “ Yeah, I’ll think it over.”

~~~

Your eyes are closed when you feel a pair of hands slink around your body, drawing you into a chest of hard, lean muscle. The scent like an apple orchard on a rainy autumn morning greets you, petrichor and wood mixed with something crisp and sweet, enveloping you in a sense of comfort. You look up to see who’s arms embrace you to find Felix hovering over you, deep brown eyes locked onto yours. You’re so close you could count the freckles on his cheeks and give a name to each one. He hums as he pulls you in closer, a deep resonance vibrating through his chest, warming you in more ways than one. 

Tell me it’s real, he says, almost silently.

It’s real, you reply. 

He leans down to capture your lips, pausing above you to nudge his nose against yours and smile. 

I’ve waited so long for this, he says as he finally presses his lips against yours softly. His movements are gentle but insistent, trying to communicate with you, speaking quietly of the years of yearning that have been building. Your skin sings with the way his hands splay on your lower back, pushing your pelvis into him as he presses his tongue against your lips, asking for permission. The kiss deepens and you fall further into him, molding yourself against him. Your hands wind their way into his hair, those ice blond strands wrapped up in your grasp.

A small tug has him detaching from your mouth in a gasp, arching into you ever so slightly as his eyes flutter shut. His fingers find purchase in your plush hips, gripping into you harshly as he yanks you even closer to his body, no space between your body and his. Your breasts press into him, feeling his every breath move against you. He groans at the feel of you before he wraps you up into another kiss, this one more fervent. The way your soft body fits against his so well has his tongue dancing with yours, surging into you then backing away, teasing you until your body feels like it’s on fire. 

You whimper into his mouth when he shifts, coaxing your feet apart to slot his thigh between your legs. He bears down on your hips, pressing your core against his flexed muscle. Liquid heat pools in your belly as he starts rocking against you, feeling his length against your hip, pleading for friction. His hands snake down to grab onto your ass, kneading into the thick flesh, controlling the pace of your grinding into him.

You feel that arousal building inside of you, the tension has you clenching while you rut your hips against him. You feel how wet your panties have become as they slide over your clit, your hips stuttering against him, nearing your peak. 

Felix, I’m- you start to say but he cuts you off with a kiss.

Come for me, y/n, he murmurs against your lips. I want all of you. I wanna feel you lose control.

His words have you moaning, your brow furrowing as your hips shake. He holds you steady as he bounces his leg slightly to add extra pressure. You gasp, feeling your muscles tighten.

Give it all to me, he whispers against your lips. It belongs to me.

His voice sounds distant as you feel yourself coming to the edge. 

Suddenly, your eyes flutter open. You find yourself in bed, thrusting pitifully against your pillow, your heart racing and your skin flush with arousal. As you start to pull yourself out of the dream you were so wrapped up in, your orgasm shatters through you, moaning into the dark of your room. Your legs shake as your core muscles flutter, throbbing at the thought of Felix’s mouth on yours. As you start to come down from your high and settle into reality, you can feel your own pulse in your clit, your legs tangled in your sheets with a pillow between your legs, forehead glistening with sweat. 

It felt so real, like you could actually feel the ghost of his hands on your ass rocking you against his body, his groans ricocheting in your chest. You haven’t had a dream like that in ages, it was so vivid. You wanted it to be real so badly.

That settles it. You reach for your phone, the light piercing through the darkness, staring at the clock that reads 4:26 AM. Opening your messaging app, you type out a quick text and hit send.

you: okay Felix, let’s do it. Will you be my plus one?

[amongussexgif]

Howdy folks. I’ve said I’d make a rant about this for a while. It’s time.

Let’s start with the basics. Mesopomatia is the earliest known human civilization. Humans existed before them, but this was the first “city”. They also made the first writing. This rant also kinda covers Sumerian tuff, because the two groups had a bit of a merging.

You know what transgenderism is. You’re on tumblr dot com. Chances are you are a transgenderist yourself

Transphobes often say that transgenderism is a “new concept” and that “nobody was trans 20 years ago”. For the record, you don’t have to go as far back as Mesopotamia. There’s Greece, Egypt, Hawaii, and tons of others I fail to remember. But yeah, we date back to The First City.

The First People believed in many gods, one of which you’ve likely heard of. Today’s subject: Inanna/Ishtar, The Queen of Heaven (I’ll be calling her Inanna, as it’s her original name). She was the goddess of Sex, War, and Justice. The most notable things she was believed to do were changing people’s genders and being an absolute queen. Like fr she slayed-

Anyways, the “transgender power” as I’m gonna call it because it's funny, is well documented in poetry fragments, with the direct quote “To turn a man into a woman and a woman into a man are yours, Inanna.” This was written by Enheduanna, Inanna’s High Priestess from Ur (Ur is a city).

Speaking of Inanna’s Priests and Priestesses, they were actually known for their androgyny. Poems and Dedications to Inanna often included them, with the direct depiction of the goddess transfer-ify-ing them. It’s unknown if these and the Gala are the same priests, so I’ll add a little space and talk about them for a bit.

The Gala were priestesses for Inanna created by the god Enki (who is really fuckign cool for non-trans reasons (might talk about him sometime)) to sing for her. Mourning Rites previously sung by women got taken over by the Gala, and as men joined, they adopted ALL societal roles and expectations of women, switching to female names and singing in the Sumerian eme-sal dialect, which was reserved for women trying to render the speech of female gods. The Gala looked after the sick and poor, and were highly respected by the rest of the Mesopotamian peoples.

Time to talk about the Pilipili! They were a group of cultic performers who worshiped Inanna, with the name coming from a person named Pilipili. They were raised as a woman (according to Mesopotamia’s gender roles), and were blessed by Inanna and given the name Pilipili. Inanna gave them a spear, an item associated very heavily with masculinity “as if she were a man” and they are only referred to as “The Transformed Pilipili” from that point on. “Spear'' is also thought to have phallic meaning here, which is even more directly saying that Inanna trans’ed Pilipili’s gender.

How about we move beyond the cult on Inanna now? A statue (or technically statuette but honestly whatever) found in the city of Mari depicts a singing woman. But wait! The name of the depicted person is “Ur-Nanshe”, a masculine name! This might mean nothing, but honestly, you’d assume transgenderism too if you met a woman named Steven. The statue has a soft face with traces of makeup, and it’s got tiddies!

A statue in the British museum (which for the record should not be in there. give it back) has a label translated as “Hermaphrodite of Inanna”. Hermaphrodite has a different meaning now, which a different translator, Cheryl Morgan, recognized, stating that “person-man-woman” would be more accurate. We don’t know specifics about their gender, but clearly this was a person outside of the gender binary who was not only significant enough to have a statue of them made, but also assumedly well-liked!

So, to summarize, Ancient Mesopotamia viewed genderqueer individuals as:

often blessed by the Queen of Heaven

transgender-ify-ed by said Queen of Heaven

well respected enough to be priests

said cult of trans priests was also said to be made by another god in devotion to Inanna

significant and well-liked enough to have statues of them

sounds like we should take some notes from our ancestors, huh?

[misspelledwordswizard]

Misunderstanding

Legend x Reader

Summary: Where two idiots in love refuse to accept their feelings and end up suffering from their lack of communication.

It had been two days since we had passed through a portal that took us to an unknown time. We were currently searching for a nearby village where we could seek information, but night was approaching and there were no signs of civilization so close, which led us to the decision to set up camp. Murmurs of complaints about tiredness were heard, having been walking through the trees and sleeping under the stars for days on end, but there was not much to do; we should keep moving forward. 

The group quickly split up, everyone already accustomed to their respective tasks so that everything could be organized as quickly and efficiently as possible. Already knowing my position in this math, I hurried to collect firewood and help Wild with the food. Everyone seemed discouraged and without energy lately. I wish I could do something to change that. Maybe preparing something different for the meal would be a good way to start. 

I was quick to collect dry branches that could be used in the fire. These recent times that I was traveling with Chain ended up training me for this type of activity. I didn't have the habit of camping before, but now it has become part of my daily life, my routine, I had to learn to like it and adapt, but it's not so bad. At least I have good company. 

I went to Wild with what I could get and he arranged to light the fire in his unique but quick way. With that arranged, we analyzed what we had in stock to choose the ideal recipe. Thanks to the Sheikah Slate, the ingredients were well preserved and we usually had a large stock of things. The problem is that with such a large group it was necessary to replenish frequently, and it had been a while since we had done that. The variety of vegetables was low, but we still had mushrooms and some meat, which needed to be replenished urgently tomorrow. 

We decided to use all the remaining rice to make beef curry and mushroom onigiri, which we could store to eat tomorrow as well. With that decided, we set off to prepare. Wild took charge of the curry while I made the rice, which I would need a lot of water to wash, so I decided to start preparing it at the lake near where we camped. I grabbed what I would need and started to walk away from the camp. It wasn't very far, depending on where you looked, you could still see the clearing we were in next to it. 

On the way there, I came across Veteran, who was returning from his own search for water for everyone to drink during the night. It's been a while since I've been able to talk to him. No matter what I do, something always happens that prevents me from starting a conversation or keeping it going for very long. I wonder if he's avoiding me for some reason, always dodging my questions, always avoiding looking at me. Maybe, even after all this time with me in the group, he still doesn't trust me, or he just doesn't want to get close. 

This idea alone makes me sad. I would like to get along with everyone in the Chain, of course, but especially with him. There were few times when we could really interact, alone, but they were precious moments for me. Even without that intention, he managed to turn bad days into good days, just by talking about some nonsense with me or telling me about something from one of his adventures. I thought we were getting closer, but then what could have happened for him to avoid me? Maybe I said something stupid. 

Seeing this opportunity to try to talk to him, I felt a smile form on my lips as I opened my mouth to say something nice and every day, just to test the waters, but I didn't even have time to do so. Legend walked past me, quickening his pace and leaving me behind, without even looking me in the eyes, remaining focused on his destination. Maybe this wasn't the best time, or maybe he just didn't want to talk. I hope so. 

I made my way to the lake, trying to take my mind off it, I crouched down at the edge of the water and began the delicate work. It was an easy task, but not so quick, so I gave myself time to think. No matter how hard I tried, for some reason this boy just wouldn't leave my thoughts, surrounding my mind with all the possibilities of what could have happened, making my heart tighten melancholically, blaming myself for something I don't even know what it is. 

I pushed these thoughts away when I finished the task, collecting the used things and returning the way I had come here. Trying to focus on how I would prepare the meal, I managed to distract myself enough, but that only made me realize how hungry I was. I approached the Cook, showing him my work and putting the pot on the fire, careful not to burn the only rice we had left. Still disturbed by those thoughts, I gathered the courage to approach the subject with the hero next to me, who might be able to shed some light on all of this. 

— Do you think the Veteran has been acting strange lately? – I asked, trying to find out if it was really something related to me. 

— Strange? Not that I noticed, he even seems a little excited. – Wild replied, confirming my suspicions, making me wilted. 

— Then it must be with me. I feel like he's avoiding me, but I don't know what I could have done wrong? 

— Avoiding you? I don't think that's it. Oh, unless you did something really bad, he's not mad, you can be sure. After all, if that complainer was mad at someone, you can be sure everyone would know! – He joked, making me laugh thinking about how dramatic the Vet could be sometimes, it was comical, kind of adorable. 

That was good enough to calm my anxiety, for now. I would still like to know the real reason for it, but I don't want to pressure him, so I'll keep quiet for now. With that thought, I managed to calm down enough to focus on the food I was preparing and not burn what we would have for dinner. 

◇ 

It was around noon, and we had been walking since sunrise, but to our lucky luck, we finally saw signs of a nearby village, which we should reach in less than an hour. Still unable to identify the area, we had no idea what time it was, but it was already clear that this was not the Hyrule of any of us, or else we would have known by now. 

Wind had been telling me and the Blacksmith about one of his adventures on the high seas the whole way, in his usual lively manner, to which I tried to pay as much attention as possible, which was difficult considering that my main thought was showing my tiredness and hunger. The onigiri prepared yesterday had not even lasted an hour since we started walking, it was basically breakfast, but it was not enough to sustain everyone for that long, so I imagine the others are in a situation similar to mine. 

I'll make sure the first place we go when we get to the village is a restaurant. That was the main thought going through my mind right now, but between the internal complaints of hunger and leg pain, I held on tight, listening to the Sailor's story and trying to be as involved as possible. 

The sun was shining hotly in the sky, but it was a welcome warmth compared to the cold winds that were biting us. There was plenty of nature around here, but the trail we were on was through the middle of the forest, which made me think that all this nature might be a bit too much for me. There were times when branches and plants brushed against my legs, scaring me because I thought it was some insect. The boys must think I'm crazy because of the occasional muffled screams I would let out because of it. 

I'm thankful for having heavy leather boots that were great for this type of terrain. I can handle monsters, but I definitely don't have the head to deal with small, poisonous creatures that can approach me without me noticing. Which is terrible considering my obvious lack of attention to my surroundings. 

The rest of the way was a bit easier, the trail was more open, which allowed us to pass through peacefully until we reached the entrance of the village, where we were greeted politely by the locals. This seemed like a very welcoming place, accustomed to tourists, it was a relatively large village, so I imagine it must have been a long time ago from the Traveler. The locals who welcomed us answered our questions pleasantly and I was quick to ask where the nearest restaurant was, which luckily wasn't too far away. 

Everyone agreed that we would eat first and explore later, we would need to divide the group into different tasks, such as getting information, staying, and restocking food. We followed the path that had been explained to us and soon came across the establishment mentioned above. It was a large restaurant with a rustic wooden look, very pretty, and it seemed like a comfortable place to be. None of us were against having lunch there, so we all went in, famished. 

Time had to make sure everyone stayed in control and didn't cause a ruckus and end up getting kicked out. We had to wait a while until we found a table that would fit the ten of us, but soon we were all sitting down, chatting and thinking about what we would order to eat. Even with the Old Man and myself trying to control everyone, the table soon became a blur of animated simultaneous conversations, which I couldn't resist joining in on. 

— I want a risotto! – Wind chose, excited to be able to eat something different. 

 — Wait a minute, we haven't even been served yet. – I replied, laughing at his excitement. 

— Oh, I wish I could try a little bit of everything. – Wild commented, almost drooling over the menu. 

— You can try a little bit of what each of us orders. – Hyrule suggested, receiving disapproving looks from his brothers who were not so willing to share their food. 

— No way! – Four replied, not at all in favor of this possibility. 

The conversation continued while everyone debated what they would order, I settled for a seafood fried rice, which looked simple but very good. So, we started to wait to be able to order, conversations were still circulating around the table, but at a relatively lower level than before. It was then that a beautiful young woman, a restaurant employee, approached our table, ready to take our order. 

She was truly a slender, tall, and beautiful woman. She looked like a princess even though she was hiding in such ordinary clothes. Her long, wavy golden hair looked angelic, and her deep brown eyes showed a certain maturity. The others didn't seem to care much, but I know she must have received looks, which were totally justified given her level of beauty. 

Soon we were waiting for the food in a pleasant atmosphere. The last few days had been peaceful, without any problems, while we tried to get to the village, which made everyone relaxed and was a relief. The food arrived and ran out almost as quickly. Everything was very tasty, and on top of that, the place was beautiful and cozy. It was truly a find. I would like to come back here before we leave this village. 

It took about an hour and a half, from the time we arrived until everyone finished eating, paid, and went out to explore the city. Warriors divided us into small groups. Twilight and Wild would be in charge of hunting, Hyrule and Four would buy other food that was missing. Sky and I were responsible for finding a guesthouse and booking rooms while the rest of us split up to explore and get information. 

◇ 

Sky walked beside me through the quiet streets, some locals who passed by greeted us kindly, which we reciprocated. After walking for a few minutes, we decided it would be best to ask someone where there was a guesthouse; this village was quite large and the last thing we needed was to get lost. Not to mention that, of course, we were desperate to rest soon. 

After following the proper directions, we arrived at a large residence, with a very clear sign indicating it was the guesthouse. It was easy to find, it was the largest building in the area, which was mostly residential. We went in and Sky offered to make the reservation and request the rooms, getting five rooms with two beds each. I helped him get the keys, which we would have to distribute among the others later, but for now, we chose our own rooms to take a look at the quality of them – and to take a nap. 

Entering the room, I was surprised by a beautiful view from the window. We were on the top floor, the third, and the view from here was very beautiful, not only that, but there was also a small balcony. The room was very clean and organized, the two single beds had large, heavy white duvets and two fluffy pillows for each bed. A small bedside table made of white and wood gave a charming air to the place, which in itself had a wonderful smell of perfume and cleanliness. 

I felt like I could cry with happiness at finally being able to sleep in a comfortable bed and in a clean place without bugs climbing on me or grass biting me. I may be getting used to this adventurous life, but deep down I was still a homebody who loves a rainy day, being indoors, under the covers drinking hot tea and reading a good book. 

I threw myself on the bed closest to the window, my muscles relaxing and a sigh of relief escaping my lips as I stretched out in bed. I stayed there for a few minutes, just feeling my body relax as I gathered the courage to get up. The receptionist told us that we could use the bathroom as much as we wanted, that the bathtub would always have hot water for a bath, and I would love to take one after all this time. 

A little more rested, I lazily got out of bed, grabbed a towel also provided by the inn and headed out of the room, walking down the hallway to the end, where the bathroom door was. Entering the place, it was very simple, with a large bathtub in the center and some wooden buckets on the side. The bathtub was full and steam was coming out of the water. Great, I'm dying for a bath that will burn my soul. 

I undressed and got in, feeling my skin sensitive to the heat and my muscles relax with it. I lost track of time there, but I must have stayed there for at least twenty minutes before I realized it and finished bathing. My mind, clouded by the good feeling, didn't allow me to have complex thoughts at that moment, and that was what I wanted most. 

After drying myself and putting on clean clothes, I felt refreshed and ready for anything. With the towel wrapped around my hair and my dirty clothes in hand, I returned to my room, leaving my belongings in their proper places and hanging the damp towel on the balcony to dry. I could see how beautiful the day was outside through the large window, and that was enough to motivate me to go for a walk. 

I left the inn quickly, taking nothing more than the bare necessities with me, my purse and wallet, because I don't know if I can resist the urge to buy a souvenir from this lovely village. Or a sweet treat at the bakery, that would be nice too. Walking through the streets bathed in the golden rays of the sun, I found myself lost in the comforting harmony that was there. It must be a good place to live, in a peaceful time. 

I walked a little, about two blocks, before I heard two familiar voices talking nearby. Instinctively, I approached them, cautiously. I could recognize the voices of the Veteran and the Traveler, both having a conversation that I soon realized was personal, so I thought it best not to show myself and move away, but something about what they were talking about caught my attention, leading me to do something I'm not proud of. 

— You don't have to lie to me, my brother, it's obvious that you like her. – Hyrule's words made me freeze in place, preventing me from leaving their private conversation, keeping me out of sight. 

— I don't like her! You're all crazy if you think that, she means nothing to me. – Legend replied stubbornly, but even I, who haven't known him for that long, know that this was a big lie. Which made me go over it in my mind and think about who they were talking about. 

— Oh, Vet, please! I saw the way you look at her, as if she were the most precious thing in the world, your eyes even shine. – The Traveler continued, sounding somewhat provocative. 

— No way, you're seeing things that don't exist. – The grumpy boy replied, while I struggled to think about who they were referring to. The only viable option was the girl from the restaurant, she was the only woman we had come across in a long time. 

— You can deny it all you want, but you two are the only ones who don't see it. – The other hero continued. – Believe me, walking away and denying it will only create more problems. 

I couldn't hear the other's answer, because I left as quickly as I could, considering that I had already heard much more than I should have. Knowing that Legend was in love, and with a woman he had just met, is too much for me. I felt discomfort in my chest, probably because I had heard more than I should have, now I feel guilty and I don't know what to do. Maybe I should confess my sins to him, but then he would hate me even more than I believe he does. 

I took a deep breath as I considered that I had distanced myself enough. Okay, I need to think on the positive side, I can use this to my advantage. I can do something for him so that he forgives whatever wrong I did, that way we can be friends again and he won't avoid me anymore! Well, then I believe I have a plan. 

◇ ◇ ◇ 

I walked away from Hyrule when we arrived at the inn, which had already been reserved for our group. All this talk of crushes only served to make me angry, he's wrong, I would know if I liked her, and I don't. Speaking of which, it's likely that she's at the inn right now just like Sky, and I definitely didn't need to see her right now, not after all this nonsense I'd had to listen to. Trying to avoid this terrible encounter, I finally headed in the opposite direction of the inn, alone, to try to distance my mind from these thoughts. 

It's been a few days since I last spoke to her, but hey, it's not my fault. I've been having some nice moments with the new girl over the past few weeks, and I was happy, until there was that fight against a group of monsters, in which I was so distracted by the good memories of our conversations, by her contagious laugh, her smile that I couldn't perform well in the battle, almost getting hurt several times because my gaze kept guiding me to her to make sure she was okay. Well, it's all her fault for needing help in the battles. 

After that, I considered that it would be better to avoid her at all costs, just for this strange feeling to pass and I could concentrate like before. But man, this has been hell. Even in a short time I got used to her presence in our group, and then, less than a day without us talking and I was already torturing myself, every single thing that happened to me, my first thought was to tell her, so I had to scold myself for such a thought. 

Seeing her talking to the others while I had to keep my distance was even worse, those lucky ones don't have to worry about getting distracted in battle. But maybe that's my fault, I was weak for not being able to stay focused, because apart from that my situation is the same as my brothers, isn't it? 

I have to admit, she has become an important friend to me, but the Traveler is crazy if he thinks it's anything more than that, I mean, it's the same thing they feel for her too, nothing more! And now I not only have to distance myself to keep my sanity, but because I don't have the courage to talk to her, I know I must have hurt her by avoiding her, and I feel ashamed of it. But I can't say it, not yet. 

My thoughts were interrupted when I felt a blow on my back, turning angrily to the person who hit me, only to completely falter to see the one I had been thinking about all this time, smiling at me like a silly child. 

— Legend, I found you! Do you want to have dinner with me at that same restaurant? I really wanted to go there again. – The girl smiled excitedly. 

 — What? Did Team say we should eat there again? – Without much way to avoid this conversation, I just acted as if I hadn't exchanged words with my dear friend in days. 

— Oh, no, I'm thinking of just the two of us going. – She answered, surprising me and making me more nervous than I would like to admit. 

— Going to dinner, at a restaurant, just with you? – I said awkwardly, feeling my heart race pathetically for no reason. I had to look away, unable to look her in the eyes, probably because I had been so rude all this time. 

— Yes, please! – She answered me and I felt forced to look at her again, only to see the look of an abandoned dog, begging for it, hitting all my weak points. 

— Geez, okay, I'll go. – I agreed, feigning irritation to hide my nervousness. 

She seemed satisfied with this, starting to walk in the direction of the restaurant and I saw no other option but to follow her. We weren't very far away, and since I had been walking around all day we didn't get lost either, so we were soon at the door of the establishment. 

We entered together, and there was already a movement in the place, but we managed to get a table for two easily, it seems she had already booked it before. This makes me wonder if she had been planning this, a dinner, just the two of us, for a long time. I shook my head to get those thoughts out of my head and focused my attention on the menu in front of me. From what I understood, she wanted to come back here to try different dishes, so I would go for it. 

My decision was interrupted when I saw her suddenly stand up, saying she was going to the bathroom or "something like that" and that I could order. She left, going into one of the corridors of the place and disappearing. I sighed tiredly, feeling my face heat up, I hadn't realized how being alone with her made me so nervous, at least this distance was able to give me time to think. Thinking about how all of this is making me feel strange, it was different from the guilt I thought I was feeling, it's much stronger. At the same time that I feel so awkward in this woman's presence, I can't see myself away from her, because this thought makes my heart ache. 

— Would the handsome man like to propose? — A blonde woman, an employee of the place, asked me, with a suggestive tone in her voice, which made me frown in disgust. 

— Hm, no, I'm waiting for someone. 

— Oh, there's no need to be shy, I know you're interested. — She continued, too bold for my taste. 

 — I don't know where you got that from, but you're wrong, I already like someone else. — I answered, admitting what I had noticed a few minutes ago without a hint of regret. 

— Hm, really? But your friend said you had a crush on me, sweetie. 

— What? — I asked a little incredulous, and then I looked in the direction the woman was pointing, and, through the window, I could see the beautiful eyes that I had fallen for spying on us both, and hiding when they realized they had been noticed. 

I sighed, holding back a laugh and at the same time frustrated. What did she do? 

◇◇◇ 

I hid as fast as I could, moving away from the window, hoping I wouldn't be noticed. I had a plan, and it was a great plan, okay? I talked to the blonde girl, Amy, and told her that my friend had a crush on her, and if she couldn't give him a chance. God, she was arrogant, conceited and looked me up and down as if to say "Of course he liked me and not you!" I wanted to kill myself for going ahead with that idea, but it was for Legend, I wanted to see him happy. 

So, I swallowed all my pride, and all the heartache I was feeling, and went after the girl to continue with my fake cupid plan. I guess it's kind of shitty when Cupid is in love with you, and yes, I admitted to myself, the reason this grumpy boy is in my thoughts all the time, the reason I always want to fight for his attention, for his smile, I ended up developing a crush on him. And I torture myself for it. 

The restaurant door opened, revealing the aforementioned guy, coming out with a not very happy expression, he didn't say anything, he just grabbed me by the arm and dragged me away from the place. My heart raced nervously, he must be furious with me right now and I didn't know what to say, it was all my fault to begin with. But I thought she would at least give him a chance. 

— What are you- 

— Please, I'm sorry about that! I overheard your conversation with Rulie and found out that you had a crush on that girl and since you've been avoiding me lately I thought you might be mad at me, so I thought that by helping you with her maybe you'd forgive me for whatever I did and then you'd talk to me again, because I miss talking to you and you're very important to me and I just wanted to see you happy! – I said everything quickly, without even taking a breath, looking away for fear of how he would react. 

Then, a silence, which lasted for a while, the only thing that made me look at him again was the sun of his sweet laugh reaching my ears. 

— What are you talking about? I don't like that woman, I don't even know who she is! You got it all wrong, the woman I fell for was you, idiot. – Legend said, leaving me speechless, my brain struggling to process what he said. 

My cheeks heated up when I finally began to understand what he was talking about, my heart in turn seemed to have gone faster in this regard, accelerating even before I understood the situation. I felt breathless, forgetting to breathe due to so much surprise, my thoughts meandering through all the events, replaying each one of them, but now with this additional information that made everything make sense, that took a great weight off my shoulders and the anguish from my chest. 

— Oh, Hylia, thank goodness, I was dying of jealousy while I was doing that, I just didn't want to admit it! – It was the first thing that came out of my lips, while I sighed in relief, only then did I realize that this wasn't what I should say in a situation like this. – I mean... 

— You really are an idiot, you know that? – Link interrupted me, approaching me and touching my face gently, pulling me closer so he could place a soft, warm kiss on my lips, which took me by surprise. I was initially lost, but soon I was returning the gesture happily, I felt on cloud nine being in his arms and my heart was pounding, happier than ever. – My idiot. 

[starfish-spencer]

Me, @slimylizalfosman, and spideyroos (Discord) got into a conversation on the psych server about how modern social media could play into the Psych universe. Here's what we came up with:

Shawn and Gus start a bro podcast together but it is actually very successful

People love their friendship and chill respectful vibes

They also have a joint YouTube channel where they film themselves screwing around and doing usually illegal things. It's a miracle their channel hasn't been taken down yet.

You can tell when Gus edits the videos vs when it's Shawn.

Shawn makes those loud, bright, clickbaity videos with titles like WE SPENT 24 HOURS INSIDE A WALMART (*GONE WRONG*) (*ALMOST DIED*)

They do food vlogs where they travel around and eat at different Santa Barbara restaurants.

They also upload an ASMR video just like the Psych 2 promo

Shus becomes the Psych universe's version of Phan (Dan x Phil)

Lassie hated all social media until Jules convinces him to try it out. He has seven whole Instagram followers and he is thrilled about it (four of them are Jules and her alt accounts).

Jules has a cute aesthetic YouTube channel where she makes vlogs, makeup videos, cat videos, etc.

Lassie doesn't have a YouTube channel. He just guest stars in all of Jules's videos.

Her subscribers love him. They also start to wonder if the two live together because he shows up in every video. He's just. Always at Jules's place.

Lassie does make a YouTube channel eventually but he never posts anything. He just uses it to comment on all of Jules's videos and she pins his comment every time.

He tried to make videos but gave up after they kept getting taken down (His dead clown story and crime scene vlogs violated YouTube community guidelines, for some reason).

The four of them do collabs sometimes and it's always chaotic. They gain a bit of a cult following and have a decent sized fanbase.

Gus is an avid Tumblr user and has quite a few hit posts and a ton of followers

He has about a dozen side blogs for all his fandoms and special interests

Gus and Jules's blogs are very aesthetic and organized.

Lassie's there for the Clint Eastwood fandom and he posts random Civil War facts

Shawn is a Tumblr shitposter

He also argues with people on Reddit for fun

[rainylana]

“Kiss me.”

Eddie Munson x female reader

summary: eddie is having a bad day, so he looks to you for comfort.

warnings: bully!eddie, mean!eddie, slight perv!eddie mentions of smut and masturbation, mentions of eddie’s home life.

Eddie was tired, mentally and physically. Tired of his life, his friends and his fucked up family, apart from Wayne of course. He was tired of school, his band. Just tired. He was tired of living everyday pretending to be happy when he was only miserable. The trauma from his childhood was haunting him, the scars from his dad a big, nasty reminder of growing up.

The only thing that was keeping him going was you. Ironic, when it reality, you hated him. He treated you terribly. He knew it, he loved it. It was the only way he knew how to express himself. He fantasized about you, thought about how your cunt would feel with his cock penetrating inside of you, how it would feel to kiss your lips and pull your hair.

He got off treating you the way he did, being mean. He stole your things, pulled at your hair and tripped you in the halls, made fun of you in class in front of everyone. He loved to make you cry. He never once thought about having a civil conversation, asking you out on a date or just being openly friendly. He didn’t want that with you. Growing up was difficult. He learned how to express himself in different ways unlike everyone else. Wayne tried his best to raise him honorably, to respect people, especially women, and treat them right, but Eddie was complicated.

Deep, deep down, he was a good person with a good heart, he just didn’t know how to share it with anyone.

He wasn’t having a good day whatsoever. Everything was pissing him off. You were pissing him off. Your smile, your laughter. The fact you were obviously having an enjoyable day. He wanted you to be miserable like him, so he needed the chance to get you alone.

He sat in a seat in the auditorium, not participating in choir practice for the third time that week. His feet were propped up on the seat in front of him, arms crossed with tatted flesh and bracelets, clad in dark clothing. He watched you sing with your peers, chin high and that ugly pink bow that sat on the back of your head. He wanted to ruin you, and he hated that he was growing hard while watching you.

He loved your little stockings, your knee high socks and white shoes. The little bows you wore and the gold, cross necklace around your neck. You portrayed innocence, but Eddie knew better. He could practically smell the way you dripped for him.

When the bell rang and class was dismissed, Eddie stood, stalking over to you slowly and predatorily, like a hunter and it’s prey. You were left behind by your friends while you gathered your things, turning on your heel to wave goodbye to the teacher. He internally scoffed. Always such a goody-two shoes.

You gasped when you came face to face with him, left alone in the empty auditorium. Your face melted into fear, the look that he loved.

“What is it, Eddie?” You tried not to let your voice tremble. “I already gave you the homework for english.”

He shamelessly looked you over. “You seem like you’re having a good day.”

You gulped, knowing he was about to ruin it. “I am.”

He smirked. “Couldn’t help but notice you were watching me over there.”

“I was not.” You defended, adjusting the hold on your books. “I was singing.”

“Sure,” He stared at the open exposure of your chest.

“My eyes are up here.” You tapped your head, spinning on your heal to walk away.

He let you get a few feet away before stopping you again. “Don’t you have something for me?”

You stopped, shoulders dropping as your hand went to your hair. You turned to glare at him, pulling out your pink ribbon and tossing it to him. “You are so weird. What the hell do you do with those anyway?”

He watched the way your hair cascaded down your shoulders, and he looked down to the new silk ribbon he could add to his collection. He always made you give them to him.

“I like annoying you.” He smelled it before putting it in his pocket, making your face flush.

He smirked. “If it bothers you so much than stop wearing them? Ever think of that?”

You could, but that would mean you wouldn’t be getting as much attention.

“Whatever.” You brushed off. “Can I go?”

“I don’t know, can you?”

You groaned, which turned into a gasp when he grabbed your arm, yanking you toward him. “Eddie!”

He stared at you long and hard, holding you against his body firmly. Your breath was heavy, eyes fluttering rapidly as your eyes were locked.

“If I told you I wrap your sweet little ribbons around my cock, what would you say?” He whispered.

Your eyes widened, lips parting in shock.

“If I told you,” His other arm wrapped around your back, trapping you in his grip. “That I think of you scuffing your knees for me? That I get off to making you hate me? What would you say?”

Your eyes filled with tears, your heart racing and face flushing. You hated that heat rushed to your thighs.

He searched your face, looking for something, you didn’t know what. Answers, maybe? An explanation to why he felt the way he did? Why he had to grow up the way he did, experience such a horrific home life and father. Why was he falling in love with you? And why, damnit, couldn’t he tell you.

“Kiss me.” He said softer, not letting go of you.

It wasn’t an order or a demand, for once, Eddie was soft with you. It made you throb. Your eyes fluttered closed and you stood on your tip toes. You shakily placed your lips on his, giving him a delicate kiss. He imagined kissing you many times, but it was never like this. It was soft, gentle. You moved your lips with his like soft ocean currents.

When you pulled apart, he let you go slowly, releasing your arms from his tight grip. He was at a loss for words, looking down and avoiding your eyes. He felt so much. For once, he just wished he could tell you how he felt, why he did the things he did. Maybe kissing you was his way.

“Eddie-” You began to say before he cut you off.

“Don’t.” He shut his eyes, overwhelming.

But Eddie was Eddie. He was complicated, an over thinker. He made things much more difficult than they needed to be.

He looked at you, a mixture of sadness and anger taking over his features as he turned to walk away. “Just don’t.”