#but i’ve always tried to be less hard on myself on this blog so i am CARRYING that energy in some series | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

dollgxtz · 2 months ago

Note

I gotta know when you’re posting the Zayne CNC fic??? I’ve been checking your blog multiple times a day for it!

But realistically, no pressure 😂 I know writing is hard, and I can wait, lol. It’s worth the wait. I just want to show support for you and your craft. ❤️

Also, I love your yandere!Sylus fic! I’m only on chapter four and I see so many asks about it and I have to physically stop myself from spoiling it for myself, lmao. I’m so excited to read more! Your writing and your tics are a highlight of my day. 😊🥰

Edge Of Control

Word Count: 6.2k

Tags: zayne x fem!reader, cnc, cutting, tw slight blood, scalpel play, choking, biting, degradation, blowjob, degrading names, pet names like darling, pain play, home invasion roleplay, primal play, aftercare in the end

AN: Hi everyone! I know this was a LONG awaited fic but I wanted it to be absolutely perfect for my second husband ^0^. Also ty anon for the very sweet words! I hope this fic makes up for the amount of time you had to wait!!!

It was well past midnight, and the house felt eerily quiet without him. You lay on the couch, wearing nothing but a pair of Zayne’s boxers, the soft fabric a small comfort in his absence. A half-empty bottle of wine sat forgotten on the floor beside you, each sip doing little to calm the restless energy humming beneath your skin. The TV flickered, casting shadows across the room as you absentmindedly flicked through the channels, though nothing could hold your attention.

Your mind kept wandering back to Zayne, a dull ache settling in your chest. He was on another one of those grueling shifts—long hours with no word, no way to reach out to him. The pit of anxiety in your stomach tightened. You didn’t know exactly what his job as a surgeon demanded of him, but you could see it weighing on him more and more. His face had grown tired, the usual sparkle in his eyes dulled by exhaustion. You noticed the way his shoulders remained stiff, tension knotting in his body like a rope pulled too tight, barely holding it together.

Every time he came home like this, you saw it—the frustration simmering just beneath the surface. His body brimming with pent-up energy, adrenaline coursing through his veins with no way to let go. He was so tightly wound, like he was carrying the weight of a world you couldn’t fully understand. And every time you saw him like that, it broke something inside you. You wanted to help him. You wanted to be the one to take that edge off, to give him the release he so desperately needed but would never ask for.

You remembered the last time he came home with that storm in his eyes. Desperation had driven you to plead with him, to offer yourself as an outlet for all that tension, that frustration. You had begged him, your voice trembling, to let go, to take what he needed from you. But he refused. The worry in his eyes had cut deep, his voice firm but laced with guilt as he told you he didn’t want to hurt you.

That memory lingered now, thick in your chest. He was always so controlled, so careful. You knew he loved you, but there was a part of him that he kept locked away, too afraid to unleash it. But you wanted it—you craved it. You wanted him to feel safe enough to lose that control with you, to trust that you could handle it. That you wanted to handle it. But no matter how much you tried to reach him, he kept that wall up, afraid of what might happen if he let himself go.

You took another slow sip of wine, feeling the warmth of it spread through your chest, slightly loosening the anxious knot that had taken residence in your stomach. You always drank more when he was away—needed it, really. It dulled the sharp edges of worry that kept you up at night, made sleep feel a little less impossible. Without him beside you, the house felt too empty, and your mind raced with thoughts you couldn’t control.

Your eyes drifted shut, and the thought crossed your mind again—he could hurt you, if he wanted to. God, he was strong enough. His hands, so skilled and sure in the operating room, could easily push you beyond your limits if he ever let himself go. He knew the human body better than anyone; he understood exactly where and how to apply pressure, how to control every reaction. And then there was the scalpel—his precision tool of choice. He was so adept with it, using it in ways you’d never imagined.

You remembered the first time he’d worked it into one of your nights together, after you had begged him to try something more daring, something that would leave you breathless. He had been hesitant at first, but the results... God, the results. The thrill of that sharp edge glinting in the dim light, the cold metal kissing your skin before it pressed just enough to break the surface. You shivered as the memory washed over you, your body tingling with the vivid recollection.

The pain had been brief, but it was the anticipation, the unspoken threat, that had driven you wild. You could still feel it—the delicate line of fire it had traced across your shoulder, a stinging reminder of his control. And then the blade had hovered at your throat, a silent promise lingering in the air between you, making your pulse race and your breath catch in your throat. In that moment, you had never felt more alive, more his.

Your hand had barely slipped down to your heat when the sharp trill of your phone cut through the quiet. Heart pounding, you snatched it up, the suddenness of it snapping you out of your haze.

“Hello?” you answered, your voice a little breathless, still tangled in the memory of him.

“Is that offer still on the table?” Zayne’s voice poured through the speaker, low and worn, with that familiar undercurrent of exhaustion. But there was something else this time—something darker. His words dripped with a kind of danger, smooth and sweet like black honey, making your stomach flip.

You swallowed hard, a spark igniting low in your belly. “Uh, depends which one,” you managed, trying to play it cool as you sat up, bringing the wine bottle to your lips for another sip. Your heart was racing, anticipation thrumming under your skin.

“The one where I use you.”

The words hit you like a jolt of electricity, sending a thrill straight to your core. The raw need in his voice was unmistakable, and it struck every nerve you had. You faltered for a moment, caught off guard by the intensity of your own reaction. You tried to cover the sudden loss of words with another drink, the wine sliding down your throat as you let the tension stretch between you.

One more sip—just one more for courage. Then, finally, you answered, your voice steadier than you felt.

“Yes.”

“Is the wine good, darling?”

The question hung in the air, and your heart skipped a beat. “What?” you murmured, glancing around the dark living room. The flicker of the TV had left your eyes hazy, still not fully adjusted to the shadows creeping through the room. How did he know you’d been drinking wine?

Your breath caught as an icy chill swept through the house, raising goosebumps on your skin. Instinctively, your gaze darted to the front door, and your stomach dropped. It was wide open, swaying slightly as a gust of wind pushed against it.

You hadn’t heard a thing. Not the lock turning, not the door creaking. Nothing.

How had he gotten in without you noticing?

You stared at the door, frozen in place, watching as it swung shut on its own, the soft click of the latch echoing through the quiet. A chill ran down your spine as the realization hit—you hadn’t heard him enter on purpose. He wanted you to know he’d slipped in unnoticed, that he’d been watching you this whole time. Your mind spun with the thought: How long had he been there?

The phone slipped from your grasp, and you barely registered the sharp whine of the line going dead, drowned out by the thundering pulse of your heartbeat in your ears.

The soft but deliberate sound of shoes against the ceramic floor snapped you back into focus. Your senses sharpened, instincts kicking in. He was coming closer—fast.

In the low, flickering light of the TV, you saw him emerge from the shadows. Long strides brought him swiftly across the room, his form cutting through the dim light with an air of purpose. His form caught the harsh glow—the broad shoulders of his body, the sharp angles of his face—only partially revealed, but enough to make your breath hitch.

Then, without warning, the TV blinked out, plunging the room into complete darkness. The sudden silence was deafening. The sound of his footsteps, which had been closing in on you, vanished as if he’d disappeared into the night itself.

But you knew better.

He was there, somewhere in the blackness, waiting for you to realize it. The tension in the air was thick, every hair on your body standing on end as you strained to hear the slightest movement, feel the faintest brush of his presence.

You held your breath, every muscle in your body coiled tight. The tension crackled in the dark, your senses heightened by the weight of his silent presence.

Suddenly, the TV blared a sharp noise from the movie, flooding the room with light for just a second. And there he was, Zayne, only a few feet away—moving like a shadow, so silently it made your skin crawl. His face was bathed in the cold glow, and the way the light played off his sharp features made him look almost predatory. His expression was intense, dark, and unreadable, as if he was walking a line between control and something much more dangerous.

Your brain screamed danger. Fight or flight surged through your veins, heart hammering against your ribcage as self-preservation took over. Without thinking, your hand tightened around the neck of the wine bottle, the glass cool and smooth in your grip. Before you could second-guess it, you raised it high above your head and hurled it straight at him, instinct driving your every move.

But then—he catches it. Effortlessly. The bottle freezes mid-air, his hand snapping up to grab it as if it were nothing more than a tossed pillow. He doesn’t flinch. His stride doesn’t break. His hazel green eyes, burning with that same dangerous intensity, never leave yours for even a second. The best defense you could muster didn’t even make him blink.

Calmly, as though the act hadn’t fazed him at all, he places the bottle on the side table, his gaze still locked on you. The silence between you feels deafening as he closes the distance, his steps slow but deliberate.

Panic shot through you like a wild animal, adrenaline making your limbs tremble. But something else flared right alongside it—something that sent a pulse of heat straight to your core. It was fear, raw and visceral, but it was tangled up with desire, twisted into something you couldn’t quite understand but craved all the same.

You held your breath, every muscle in your body coiled tight. The tension crackled in the dark, your senses heightened by the weight of his silent presence.

Like prey trapped in the gaze of a predator, you couldn’t move.

Couldn’t look away.

And you almost didn’t want to.

You whip around, adrenaline taking over, and try to run—but you barely make it a few steps before it’s too late. You don’t even hear him behind you. The silence is terrifying, disorienting. Then, out of nowhere, his hand clamps around your elbow, and a startled shriek escapes your lips, cut off as he uses your momentum against you, spinning you sharply into the wall.

Your back collides with it hard, knocking the breath from your lungs. A whimper slips out, unbidden, from the shock of the impact. Before you can recover, Zayne’s voice, low and commanding, hisses in your ear.

“Don’t fight it,” he growls, the words sharp like a promise. “You asked for this.”

Panic surges through your body, instinct screaming at you to get away. “Let go!” you cry out, fear pulsing hot and fast through your veins. But your voice is weak, barely masking the excitement that’s battling for control inside you.

He doesn’t. Instead, he’s on you again, his mouth descending on your neck with a hunger that makes your pulse quicken. One of his hands grips your jaw with rough precision, calloused fingers pressing into your skin, holding you in place. You try to twist away, but he holds you firm, his touch demanding, possessive.

His lips travel down your neck, finding your pulse point first, then moving lower, grazing the soft curve beneath your ear. The sensation sends a shiver down your spine, and despite the panic swirling in your chest, a desperate whimper escapes. Your body betrays you, your hips instinctively rocking toward him, already aching for his touch. The heat between your legs flares, want burning through the fear.

His tongue traces a line down your neck, the warmth of it lingering only for a moment before the cool air chills the wet skin. Then his teeth sink into the muscle above your collarbone, not hard enough to break the skin but enough to make you gasp in pain. You wince, your body tensing as the sharp sensation rolls through you.

Your hand flies up to his head, fingers tangling in his hair as you try to push him off, your grip weak and trembling. But Zayne doesn't budge. His strength overwhelms you, his body pressing against yours with an intensity that leaves no room for escape. His breath is hot against your skin as he continues, relentless, leaving you caught between fear and an overpowering need that consumes you both.

"Zayne," you whimper. He releases his teeth from your neck with a chuckle that curls fear inside you…

His hands take your wrists, leading them above your head. You try to squirm out of his grasp. Partly because you don’t want to give him the satisfaction of pinning you. Partly out of the fear of what he could do if you can’t push him away, his entire aura shifted to something more angry and dangerous than usual.

"Don't pretend like you don't like it," he says into the angle of your jaw. He leaves soft kisses there while he effortlessly pins your arms above your head. He holds them there with one hand.

The other gropes and squeezes it’s way down your body. Your chest, your side, your waist. He grabs a hold of your hips, thumb perfectly lining up with the dune of your hipbone. He pulls your hips towards him harshly enough to draw a noise from your lips. He works his knee between your thighs, then pushes them open. He swallows any attempted protests with a kiss. His knee presses against your sensitive cunt and you whimper against his lips in response.

“Oh, what happened to all the struggling?” Zayne mocks you, punctuating his words by squeezing your wrists hard enough to bruise. His hand comes up under your t-shirt and you shiver against the sensation of his fingers on your bare skin. You melt. Fucking putty in his hands.

You open your mouth to protest, to say anything that might break the tension or reclaim some of your control, but before the words can form, Zayne grinds his knee into your core. The pressure sends a jolt of raw pleasure through your body, and the only sound that escapes is a desperate, breathy whine. His reaction is immediate—he hums with satisfaction, his lips curving into a smug smile. He does it again, harder this time, and you can feel him reveling in the control, in the power he has over you.

Your mind scrambles to catch up with your body, which is already responding in ways you can’t hide. You try to meet his gaze, desperately wanting to say something sharp, something biting, anything to regain your footing. But the moment your eyes lock with his, whatever witty retort you had dies on your tongue.

His face is half-hidden in the darkness, but his eyes... there’s something in them that makes your heart stutter. Not just the hunger, not just the dominance—it’s deeper. There’s a flash of genuine anger simmering beneath the surface, something darker that you hadn’t expected, and it sends a ripple of unease through you. The intensity of it levels you, catching you off guard.

Suddenly, this feels like more than just a game. Warmth floods your chest, your body still responding to him in ways you can’t control, but a new sense of apprehension takes root. You’re playing with something dangerous, something unpredictable. The heat between you is no longer just desire—it’s the burn of real fire, and you’re not sure if you’re ready for the flames.

Your breath comes faster as you take in the sight of him. His chest rising and falling, his lips parted slightly, the way his muscles tense beneath his skin. You’re mesmerized, caught between the fear of what he might do next and the undeniable pull he has over you.

You take him in, eyes sweeping over the familiar lines of his body now that he’s standing in front of you. His white lab coat is gone, discarded somewhere behind him, leaving him in his crisp white dress shirt, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows as if he couldn’t be bothered to fully undress. His shirt is buttoned neatly up to the collar, accentuating his thick, muscular frame in a way that makes your heart skip a beat. The tie around his neck is still knotted, slightly loosened from a long day’s work, but there’s something disheveled about him now—something raw and untamed lurking beneath the polished exterior.

His dark slacks cling to his legs, perfectly tailored to his build, emphasizing his long leg now settled between your core. The soft fabric sways with his movements, while his polished shoes make almost no sound against the floor, their silence unsettling given the tension simmering between you.

His arms cage you in, closing off this small corner of the world to just the two of you. It feels like there’s nothing outside this moment, no one else but him—towering over you, his strength radiating off him in waves. The air between you feels thick, charged with tension and unspoken desire. Your gaze travels back to his face, meeting his intense eyes, and despite the weight of the moment, you can’t help but smile mischievously.

Without a second thought, you turn your head and sink your teeth into his arm, biting down just enough to feel the resistance of his skin, tasting the salty warmth of him. At the same time, you grind your hips down against him, pressing into the hardness beneath his slacks.

You expect him to react instantly, to snarl an insult or degrade you for your boldness. To throw out one of his usual threats—punishment, discipline—his voice dripping with disdain for your insolence, for the way you always push his boundaries. You brace yourself for it, for the sting of his words, the sharp crack of his tone that would send heat rushing through your body.

But it doesn’t come.

Instead, he goes completely still. The tension in his muscles shifts, tightening under your bite, but his silence unnerves you more than anything. You can feel it—the raw power coursing just beneath his skin, his body vibrating with restraint. His muscles flex under your teeth, taut with the effort of holding something back. You release your grip slightly, confused, nervous. But Zayne says nothing. He’s a coiled spring, quiet, calculating, like a predator biding its time.

Methodically, he moves, his hands sliding down your arms, his touch precise, controlled, like he’s performing surgery. Each motion deliberate, calculated. His fingers glide over your skin, and with each inch he covers, the nervousness inside you builds. His control feels absolute, every movement designed to unsettle, to leave you wondering what’s coming next.

Then his hands reach your head, enveloping it completely. His fingers curl around your skull, not rough but firm enough to make you feel small, trapped in his grip. His thumbs rest near your temples, steady, as if he’s taking his time to savor the way your breath catches. The weight of his touch presses down on you, making it impossible to move.

With one harsh movement, he’s pushed you down onto your knees. He undoes his belt and pulls himself free, his beautiful cock glistening with pre-cum. One hand presses hard into your jaw. Harder. His thumb pressing against the muscles there until you open your mouth for him. The head of his cock comes to rest against your lips.

The taste of salt and Zayne’s soap is too tempting to resist. He was usually such a giver, and when you went down on him, he always liked it slow. You lick up the length of his cock and he shivers in response. He drops his hands to your shoulders and you watch his forearms flex in pleasure. Your tongue swirls around his soft tip, and then you take him into your mouth soft and sweet.

Except... this time he doesn’t respond with shaking breaths and high pitched whimpers. Not even an utterance of your name. Insecurity flashes through you - you were sure this is how he usually liked it. Were you not doing well enough for him? You cast your eyes upwards for guidance, barely able to see him in the dark.

“You really think that’s going to cut it?” His voice is cold and hard. Then his hands are on the back of your head, pushing you down onto his cock so fast and deep you almost gag. You pull away to drag a sharp breath into your lungs, abdomen muscles flexing.

“You want to be fucked like a slut, you’re going to have to earn it.” He pulls you back down onto him.

Suppressing the urge to gag brings tears to your eyes, and it isn’t long until they’re falling down your cheek, mingling with the saliva making a mess of your mouth and chin. Wet, choking noises echo into the empty hall. When you start to slow, whimpering from the effort, he’s quick to pick up the slack. He thrusts his hips forward, pinning your head between him and the wall. You choke and gag around him, struggling to adjust around the brutal pace he sets, fucking your throat like you're nothing to him but a toy. Your hands come up to his hips, but he wrenches them away with a furious grunt.

He pulls out suddenly, thick strands of saliva dripping off his cock. His breathing is hard and sweat rolls down the lines of his ab muscles. Your shoulders slump and you try to catch your breath. You’re absolutely spent. How humiliating that he didn’t even have to touch you to keep you wet for him, a vague sense of disgust emanating through your core.

“Was that good enough?” you weakly ask, but you might as well be begging him to fuck you for the look in your eyes. You don’t even bother to wipe the spit from your chin or the tears from your cheeks. You hope the sight gets under his skin so he can fuck you just as rough as he did your throat.

“I don’t buy it,” he says. You furrow your eyebrows in confusion and frustration.

“What?”

“I just don’t buy that you want me to fuck you.”

You’re about to ask what you can possibly do more to prove it when something hard presses against your warmth, pushing your soaked boxers against you. You look down do see Zayne presenting his shoe. Polished and tightly tied, the mere sight of them gave obvious impression of what he wanted from you. But why?

You look up at him, but all he does is look back at you, expectantly. Your can feel the heat creeping up your neck as you adjust to straddle his shoe. You keep hoping he’ll just end your suffering by mocking you for even considering it, but it never comes. The cold, hard leather against you sends a wave of electricity through your body. Your hips are moving on their own. Your body desperate for anything it can get, chasing it’s high no matter how humiliating. You turn your face away from him, unable to stand him looking at you like this. Grinding against his shoe...

“There they are. My desperate little darling,” his voice has the first touch of warmth it’s had all night. It’s enough to spurn you on, the heat coiling in your abdomen. You pick up the pace against your will, your body chasing ecstasy like an uncaged animal. And Zayne just watches you, expression never changing, never reaching down to touch you. God, were you really going to cum on his shoe while he looked at you like that?

He kneeled down to one knee, doing his best not to disturb your work. His strong hands take hold of your hips and push you harder against his shoe, dragging your hips up and down. You moan, tears collecting in your eyes again. You can’t believe you’re enjoying this. Even - no, especially because it hurt. You were getting closer, your moans coming faster.

“Beg for it,” Zayne orders.

“Please let me cum, Zayne, please!”

“Tsk. Not that,” he pulls his shoe away like he's disgusted and you whimper in protest. Then, as if you were light as a feather, he’s tossing you to the side. You catch yourself on your elbows and feel them scrape against the ceramic floor. Your hips grind against the air as they searched for any friction at all that would send you over the edge. They found nothing.

“Silly girl.” He sounds bored as he stands to his full height above you.

You watch as his hand pulls a scalpel from his pocket. It captures his full attention, glinting in the light of the TV behind him. When he speaks, it's almost to the room.

“Isn’t this your favorite part? Where you try and fail to escape?”

You don’t move. He flips the scalpel in the air, catching it by the tip of the blade, and then again to catch it by the handle. He admires it as if it were the most beautiful thing in the world.

“Start crawling,” he suggests.

You push yourself onto tired, shaking limbs and try to get up. They give out on you. You pull yourself forward on your elbows instead. You hear the nearly silent creak of his shoes. The another. Then another. You feel small crawling beneath him, listening to the gentle whirl of the scalpel as he tosses it in the air. His shoes creak again, then again.

You turned to look at him. You were almost overwhelmed at how he towered above you. His broad shoulders blocking out the light in the hallway. One hand busy toying with the scalpel, the other pulling his pants further down his hips. He was clearly taking his time.

“You ever wonder why you like to fight so much?” You watch shoe follow shoe in lazy strides until they were at either side of your ribcage, standing above you.

“Should I let you get away again?” he asks, but then he’s dropping to his knees, pinning you beneath him. Fear takes hold of your vocal chords and you make a desperate noise, pushing at his legs. “Will you just give in already?”

With a calculated shift, Zayne turns your body to face him, your heart pounding so hard it feels like it might burst from your chest. The tension between you crackles in the air, and before you can fully process what’s happening, his hand finds your neck, fingers wrapping around it with unyielding force. His palm presses against your throat, squeezing just enough to send a jolt of pain through you, sharp and undeniable.

"It takes about 10 seconds for pressure to the jugular to result in unconsciousness," Zayne says calmly, his voice low, almost clinical, as if reciting a fact from one of his textbooks. His grip tightens again, harder this time, and the sensation of control he wields is overwhelming.

The edges of your vision blur almost immediately, the world around you starting to fade. You feel lightheaded, like the ground is slipping away beneath your feet, your body caught in the thin space between pain and pleasure. But beneath the intoxicating sensations, panic begins to swell. The lightness in your head grows, and then you feel weightless, disconnected from reality as the darkness creeps in around your sight.

Your body starts to respond, instinct driving you toward the rising sense of panic. The pleasure and thrill that had mixed with the danger of it all suddenly feel too real, too much, as Zayne relentlessly pushes you to your limits.

You bring your hand up weakly, your fingers trembling, and tap his arm three times. The motion is small but deliberate, your safe signal.

For a brief, terrifying second, you wonder if he’s noticed.

He releases and you gasp for air. He lets you catch your breath, and for a minute you’re almost angry. But the growing wet between your legs betrays you to yourself, forcing you to admit you liked being pushed to the edge. An exhilarated smile picks up the corners of your mouth and Zayne, intently waiting for you to lead, just watches.

“More,” is all you need to say, and he’s on you again. Hand lighter on your throat, he brandishes the scalpel to catch your eye. It makes contact with your skin and you fight to control a shiver.

It glides around your shoulder, then down your collar bone. The razor sharp point leaving a thin, red cut beneath the bone. You gasp, back arching into the sting. He withdraws.

“If you keep squirming, I’m going to hurt you for real.” It’s as much a warning as it is a threat, and the dark rasp of his voice sends a chill down your spine.

Then you go still again, he continues. The scalpel crosses your chest, taking it’s time tracing each and every one of your ribs. He draws a bead of blood there, before lifting the blade again. You moan, squeezing your thighs together to keep from moving your hips. The anticipation almost too much for you. But the movement catches his eye. He pockets the scalpel, and then he’s prying your thighs apart so hard you feel the ache in your hips. You try to shimmy away, but his hands hold your thighs fast against him.

“I said hold still,” he grunts, squeezing his hands around the squish of your thighs hard enough that you make a noise. "What part of stop squirming do you not get?"

Your hand comes up to his hips, trying to hold them at a distance, but it doesn’t help. He pulls you closer to him and you feel his cock hard and leaking over your boxers. Fuck, you almost come undone all over again. Feeling him pressed against you like this... his cock easily reaching your belly button, reminding you how deep inside you he could be.

“Zayne, please,” you whimper.

“Please what?” He asks. You feel the cold blade against the tender, exposed part of your thigh.

“Please fuck me.”

He grunts, a noise that commits to nothing. He pulls the fabric of your boxers off your body and slips the scalpel beneath it. He cuts the thin fabric off of you in a show of strength and skill that intimidates you.

He leans over you slowly, his hips pressed flush against yours, his cock pressed against where you want it most. A hand comes up to your face then, holding your jaw hard as he turns your face away from his. The scalpels beautiful surface approaches your cheek. Your breath picks up, fear coursing through you. He says nothing, and it makes it all the more terrifying. Your instincts freeze every muscle in your body.

“You asked for this,” he reminds you, tracing the curve of your cheek. You bite your lip.

He pockets the scalpel once more, and you realize then that he's still entirely dressed, his pants only pulled down enough to fuck you. He shifts his hips, lining up with your needy hole. You’re already moaning for him.

“Begging me to use you like this, begging me to hurt you like this.” He pushes into you, your cunt struggling to adjust to his size. He only makes it a couple inches. He pulls out of you, then thrusts again, moaning as he does. This time when he pushes into you, he completely fills you. You both release an almost victorious sigh.

“Always fucking struggling. Can never just make it easy,” he growls, that angry look in his eye. His jaw flexes. Your cunt tenses around him.

He thrusts into you again, and again, so hard it feels like he could fuck you in half. He dips his face into your neck, moaning.

"You want me to force you onto my cock." His voice tightened with effort, but never lost that black-honey edge. "Can't say no to you. Do this because I love you."

You reach up and cling to his shoulders, nails digging into the fabric. His words shouldn't thrill you, but they did. Your eyes flutter closed. Your body shook beneath him.

“This is messed up,” Zayne’s hips start to pick up their pace. You wrap your legs around him, encouraging him, pulling him deeper into you. You find yourself moaning his own words back at him; so messed up, so messed up.

Fuck, he felt so good. The two of you dissolved into senseless babbling, saying whatever it took to push each other closer to the edge. A meaningless cloud of fuck and just like that and you begged for this until neither of you could form words at all. Your pace became erratic, moaning into each other’s necks, limbs tightening around each other as you both approached your highs.

“Fuck, fuck, m’so-” you barely manage, panting and moaning through your words. Your thighs tighten around him and he groans in response.

And then you’re coming undone together. His hips driving his cock as deep as they can with the primal need to fuck his cum deeper inside you. You take it, greedily, breathlessly as your own climax rocks through your body like an earthquake.

He rests his forehead against your chest while he pulls out of you, then collapses onto the cool ceramic floor of the hallway beside you. He turns you onto your side and buries his head against your back, forearms tight against your chest while he hugs you close to him.

“I didn’t think,” you take a deep breath, trying not to pant through your sentence, “that when I asked you to use me after your work shifts, that it’d be like that.”

“Bad?” He asks, his voice uncharacteristically small.

“No, no,” you rush to recover the situation. You lace your fingers with his, “Of course not.”

He says nothing. You turn to look at him, and there’s that distant, tired look on his face.

“Are you okay...?”

“I will tell you about it soon, darling” he says. You hum as acknowledgement, wishing you could say anything, but feeling like nothing was the right thing to say. Instead you just let him hold you for awhile.

Zayne held you close, his body a solid, comforting weight against yours, his bodily warmth gradually soothing the whirlwind of sensation still buzzing under your skin. But then, you felt him shift. His fingers, cold and precise, began to ghost over the cuts he had made, tracing the delicate lines he’d etched into your skin with surgical precision. You shivered at his touch, a soft gasp escaping your lips.

His eyes softened, and in a voice barely louder than a whisper, he said, “I need to tend to these.” His words were gentle, but firm, a quiet reminder of the care he always took with you, even now.

He pressed a tender kiss to your temple, the warmth of it contrasting with the coolness of his fingers, and then he pulled away. You watched him button his pants, his movements deliberate but unhurried, before disappearing down the hall. Even through the exhaustion weighing you down, you heard the faint sound of him rummaging in the bathroom, retrieving what he needed.

When he returned, Zayne knelt beside you, his medical kit in hand. His usual calm, professional demeanor was still there, but this time it was softened with a tenderness only reserved for you. Gently, he began to disinfect the cuts, his touch as light as it was thorough. The sting of the antiseptic bit into your skin, making you wince, but his hand found yours, his thumb brushing reassuringly over your knuckles. It was a silent promise: I’m here, I’ve got you.

With every stroke of the gauze, every carefully placed bandaid, Zayne’s focus never wavered. His gaze remained trained on you, on the cuts he was tending to, but there was something deeper in his expression—something protective, almost reverent, as though he was caring for a part of himself.

When he finally finished, he sat back slightly, his hand resting on your arm, his eyes searching yours as if to make sure you were truly okay. You could see the tension from earlier still lingering in the set of his jaw, the concern etched faintly into the lines of his face.

“I’m okay, I promise,” you murmured, your voice heavy with exhaustion, your body finally giving in to the weight of the night. Your limbs felt like lead, but your heart fluttered at the care he was taking with you, the gentleness of his hands now so different from the intensity you’d felt earlier.

“I’m just…so exhausted now” you sigh, briefly closing your eyes as another wave of tiredness washed through you.

Zayne’s expression softened into a small smile, one so full of adoration it made your chest tighten with affection. He stood, helping you up with careful hands, supporting your weight as he guided you to the couch. His arm stayed wrapped around you, keeping you close, steadying you as he laid you down gently, as though you were something fragile.

He settled in beside you, his body curling protectively around yours, pulling you against his chest. “We’ll clean up later,” he whispered, his lips brushing against your forehead in a soft kiss. The warmth of his breath and the steady rhythm of his heartbeat lulled you, the scent of him comforting, grounding you.

You nestled deeper into him, the tension of the night melting away in his embrace. Wrapped in his arms, in the safety of his presence, your exhaustion finally caught up with you. Your eyelids fluttered closed, the world around you fading into the soft haze of sleep. And there, in the quiet of the night, you both drifted off together, tangled in each other, with nothing but the sound of your breathing and the quiet rise and fall of his chest.

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starlazergazer · 6 months ago

Text

Figure Something Out

Pairing: Anakin x Reader

Request: I was wondering if you could make a enemies to lover where Anakin is madly in love with reader but wont admit it since he likes to mock and annoy her but the reader doesnt, like there are but they arent as strong as Anakins. So as time passes she starts to catch feelings for him and ends in fluff but its a little angsty too yk

Warnings: Swearing, Anakin being a bit of dick

Word Count: 7.5k (sorry not sorry we love a slow burn enemies/academic rivals to lovers)

A/N: Check the blog for a little update if you want but I really hope this was worth the wait! As always please please let me know what you think!

Your eyes bounced fervently back and forth between your master’s and Anakin’s, not even bothering to hide the shock you were sure was etched into your expression. “You can’t be serious”

“Do I look like I’m joking” came your master’s quick reply, his tone alone enough to scold you for your loss in decorum, your posture snapping up reflexively as you schooled your face back to a more natural expression, unable to keep yourself from getting defensive.

“I just mean-“ the hurried deflection rolled off your tongue before you could stop it, your master’s unamused glare enough to keep the words from fully coming out. Taking a deep breath, you tried to better control yourself before you continued. “he’s a padawan, same seniority as me how could he train me?”

“He’s also standing right here” Anakin’s gruff voice proved he was just as thrilled about this assignment as you, though you barely spared him a glance, keeping your gaze locked onto your master’s, a silent plea for him to take it back.

“Padawan Skywalker is the best padawan with a saber by leagues I think he could be of great help to you” And you knew that tone your master used here, one he reserved to tell you he was done discussing the matter.

Dejectedly you finally let your gaze slip over to Anakin’s, offering him a tight-lipped smile “I appreciate your help Padawan Skywalker” you nearly choked on the words, having to force them out of your throat.

Anakin in response said nothing, his arms crossed defensively over his chest as he let his eyes rake your figure quickly, letting your words hang uncomfortably in the air until your master finally broke the silence.

“Truly padawan Skywalker we appreciate everything you do for us” He offered a small nod, clapping Anakin on the back.

“Of course master Koon” and you didn’t miss the way he offered your master a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes, nor the way he was happy to return a comment to your master’s thanks but not your own. The two of you were already off to a great start to what was bound to be a very short apprenticeship.

With a small nod back in return Master Koon took his leave, leaving you and Anakin alone in the hallway, you looking up at the padawan expectantly, him pointedly avoiding your gaze as much as possible.

“Look” you drew his attention back to you with a sigh “neither of us want to be doing this so how about we just forget this and go our separate ways?”

He raised an eyebrow up at you in response, clearly unimpressed by your proposed solution “I told Master Koon I would help”

“And how noble of you to do so” you replied with a huff, crossing your arms over your chest to match his posture “but since you clearly want to spend as much time with me as I do you this felt mutually beneficial”

“I’ve seen you fight” he responded back with a small shake of his head “you very obviously do need the help”

“Believe me you’ve made it abundantly clear what you think of my fighting skills in training” you replied with a bitter laugh.

“When it takes your opponent less than a minute to get your saber out of your hand it’s hard to keep my comments to myself”

“It does not-“ and you cut yourself off before you could properly blow up, Anakin always having this weird affect on you, pushing you over the edge with little more than a tap. You weren’t letting him get to you that easily this time. With a deep breath you tried to collect yourself “Fine, when do you want to start?”

Anakin paused for a moment, doing nothing but survey you, probably curious as to why you hadn’t started biting his head off yet, but nonetheless continued “after dinner tonight, now come on we have battle strategies with master Kenobi”

“You were asked to help me train with my lightsaber, doesn’t mean you have to walk me to class from now on” you huffed but followed him down the hallway nonetheless.

“Then start jogging and we’ll call this training too” he answered with a shrug.

You sat back trying to listen to Obi-wan’s lecture, finding yourself for the first time ever in this class unable to pay attention to the lecture, instead your focused was solely on the person next to you.

Anakin has spent the last several years making his feelings towards you abundantly clear. If the chiding remarks, the mocking comments, the downright insults were anything to go by then you could easily say that he didn’t seem to like you that much. And you had to say by this point the feeling was mutual.

He’d spent all of his time in this class in particular sitting on the other side of the room, pointedly the chair that was just about as far away from you as possible, something you were sure the rest of the padawan’s had picked up on by this point. And that would explain why now that he not only showed up to class with you in tow but took a seat next to your usual one the entire rooms attention seemed to subtly shift in your direction.

Not that the room’s attention wasn’t usually in his direction if you were being honest. Anakin was the jedi council’s golden boy, the prophetic child that would bring balance to the force, as well as being a hell of a fighter with his light saber, and if you were being totally objective he wasn’t exactly hard on the eyes. All of this meant he had a natural sort of charisma that seemed to draw the unconscious attentive weight of a room in his direction, a weight that now sat squarely on your shoulders as well.

This new attention combined with Anakin’s incessant knee bouncing meant your focus was on just about anything but the lecture at hand.

“You know you don’t need to babysit me in every other part of jedi training” you whispered over to him, Anakin’s knee bouncing harmlessly against yours as he leaned in to listen and you fought the urge to pull your own back. Afterall this was your desk you weren’t about to contort yourself so he could be more comfortable.

“Is this why you need my help?” he responded with an annoying smirk, leaning in even more as he whispered “because you struggle to pay attention in class?”

You narrowed your eyes back at him in response “I’ll have you know-“

“Padawan Y/L/N, Skywalker” Obi-wan’s unamused voice broke through your whisper sharply, freezing you in place, your face now uncomfortably close to Anakin’s as every eye turned towards the two of you “is there something you would like to share with the class”

“no Master” Anakin answered quickly, righting himself just as you did.

“Perhaps some insight on the battle then?” Obi-wan goaded, gesturing to the holomap before him, amusement sparkling in his eyes as he watched his padawan squirm beneath his gaze.

“Well I-“ you could hear the lost tone in Anakin’s voice as he desperately searched for something to say, you having half a mind to let him sit in the hot seat before you let your eyes roam over the map, happy to see that you recognized the battle Obi-wan was walking you through.

“The republic’s army comes from behind” you offered before things could get too awkward, feeling Anakin’s gaze snap in your direction as you spoke “on that ridge over there, flanking the enemy forcing them to surrender”

Obi-wan’s gaze turned to yours with a warm smile as he nodded, no doubt knowing you would know the answer even if you hadn’t been paying complete attention, before he flicked it back to his padawan, raising his eyebrows slightly as he spoke “very good padawan Y/L/N”

He held Anakin’s gaze for a moment longer, an unspoken conversation happening between the two of them before Obi-wan continued lecture like usual, turning back to face the rest of the room.

Taking the opportunity you leaned back towards Anakin again “if there’s one thing I don’t need your help with, it’s this class”

The smirk made another appearance on his mouth as he looked down at you, but this one felt different than before, warmer somehow, as he nodded “noted princess”

Whatever confidence you had bolstered from battle strategies quickly left you the minute you got to saber training.

Anakin was already in the center of the room, feet planted squarely on the mat as he spun his saber effortlessly around his body, concentration etched onto his face though you could tell even from across the room that he was just having fun with it. What you wouldn’t give to be able to whip your saber around with such precision that it seemed almost careless.

“You gonna come fight or having too much fun back there enjoying the show?”

You detested the amusement in his voice as you realized you’d spent much too long staring at him from the doorway. Unable to think of much of a response, you immediately cast your gaze down to your shoes, blindly making your way towards the mat, unclipping the saber from your belt.

“What no training sticks?” You asked with a bitter laugh as you turned on your lightsaber, giving it a half hearted twirl in your hand as you set your stance.

“Don’t worry I’ll try not to hurt you” he winked back as he did the same, making you fight the urge to roll your eyes.

You waited for him to make the first attack, the two of you spinning in a circle around one another, each waiting for the other to strike first.

Not once did that stupid smirk fall from his face, frustration rising more and more within you with each step until you couldn’t take it anymore, deciding to suck it up and make the first move.

Swinging your saber down at him Anakin deflected the blow with little more than a flick of his wrist, barely moving from his original position no doubt in an attempt to show you how easily he could win if he wanted to. Fine, if that’s how he wants to play it.

You barely gave yourself time to recover before making another swing, Anakin deflecting with another simple movement, but you were back at it. Blow after blow Anakin’s saber met yours at every thrust effortlessly, but still you push forward, kept getting closer, not even noting that Anakin never bothered to take a step back. Not noticing how close you got to him until his empty hand shot out mid swing, capturing your wrist and disarming you with a twist, your saber now held tightly in his hand.

Before you could even comprehend what had happened he yanked hard on your arm, twisting you wildly until your back came crashing against his chest, one arm holding your saber and wrapping around your waist to pin you against him the other pressing his blade right up against your throat.

You could’ve screamed in frustration, at how easily he had pinned you, at how effortlessly he seemed to be able to block everything you threw at him, at how close and vulnerable you were now that he had you now pinned against him.

“What is this some game for you? Are you just toying with me?” You spat back at him, not bothering to hide the anger in your voice.

You heard a deep chuckle from behind you, could feel it ruminate up through his chest as it pressed you even further into his chest before he spoke, voice low and right in your ear, his breath tickling the shell of it with each word “I’m teaching you princess. Now use that big brain of yours and figure something out”

And you could’ve laughed at his so called advice, at how easy it is to tell someone to figure something out when you didn’t have a saber against your throat.

Instead you decided you were done fucking around.

Picking your foot up you slammed it down hard on the jedi’s left foot at the same time rearing your head back harshly to make contact with his nose, both attacks catching Anakin enough by surprise that he released his hold on you, stumbling back and releasing his grip on your saber enough that you could slip it from his grasp, pivoting on the spot and pointing the tip of the blade right at the jedi’s throat.

Anakin in response held his nose in his hand, pinching the bridge of it as he completely ignored your saber pointed at him, giving you a disappointed glare from overtop of it.

He sniffed and wiggled his nose before shaking his head and bating off your saber with his own half-heartedly “you know that trick won’t work anywhere but here”

“Good thing I don’t need it to work anywhere but here” you returned with a smirk, stepping back a few feet before dropping back into a fighting stance.

Anakin offered nothing more than a disappointed sigh before he dropped into a stance of his own, giving his nose one last check before he launched forward to attack.

You had no problem dodging each of his blows, your body always out of the way of the arc of his saber. The issue arose when it came to deflecting them. Swing after swing your saber was always there to meet his but the effort of stopping each of the jedi’s much more powerful swings had your arms shaking after mere minutes, your feet scrambling back to try and avoid the brunt of each blow as much as possible.

Anakin, however, seemed to zero in on your weakness immediately, never relenting as he swung again and again. You in response started to try and redirect each blow, hoping that redirecting the power of the swing would take the load off your arms.

That was until his saber seemed to hit yours at just the right speed, just the right angle, that the force of it reverberated down to your hands, your grip faltering for just a second but it was enough to have the cool metal of the hilt of your saber slip from your grasp.

Anakin hit immediately with another blow, effectively knocking your saber out of your hands.

You watched dejectedly as your saber slid out from your grasp and flew across the room. With a small sigh you held your empty hands up defensively ready for Anakin to sheath his saber and start listing off all the things you did wrong.

Instead you watched as Anakin stayed rigid in his position, lightsaber still held in front of you, knees still bent ready to strike.

“I get it, you win, I’ll get ‘em next time” you pushed mock enthusiasm into your voice as you started to make your way off the mat in the direction you saw your saber go when a blue column of light swung down just in front of you, barring your movement.

“So in an actual battle your plan is just to give up when you lose your lightsaber?” Anakin’s chiding voice had you gritting your teeth as your head snapped in his direction, little more than an amused smirk on his face as he talked “maybe offer your neck to the sith for an easy decapitation”

“No I’ll-“ frustrated words died in your throat as you sought an end for your sentence. You were tired, sweat had your robes sticking to your torso uncomfortably and every muscle you had burned, now was not the time for his mind games.

“You’ll what?” he pushed forwards, retracting his lightsaber so it now was held in that defensive position you were now all to used to seeing him in.

“I don’t know I’ll figure something out” you shot back, crossing your arms over your chest.

“Then figure something out” he goaded with a raised brow before striking, his saber moving slightly slower than you knew he was capable of, giving you plenty of time to side step out of the way.

“Okay I get it” you called back to him as you dodged another swing, taking a step back towards the edge of the mat “you’ve made your point”

“I’ve made my point when you stop thinking of this as just training” he shot back with another swing of his saber, pushing forward forcing you to take another step back “this isn’t just to get through training so you can advance in the jedi ranks this is about survival” another swing, another dodge and another step back “this is about making sure you stand a chance out on the battle field” you felt the floor beneath your heels start to give way, your toes balancing on the edge of the mat “this isn’t some game Y/N”

You felt your irritation grow within you with each word. You knew this wasn’t some game, you had been outside of the walls of the temple, you had been on a battle field, you knew you needed help with your fighting skills but who was he to decide after one day that you weren’t taking this seriously enough.

You watched as he set up for his next attack, as his foot landed far out in front of him as he lunged forward, the whole world seeming to slow around you as you side stepped the saber, Anakin’s hand sailing past you effortlessly. Without a second thought you seized his wrist, giving it a small twist in the wrong direction as you pulled him forward with it, effectively knocking the jedi off his balance.

Before he could realize what was happening Anakin was sailing forward, past you, to the ground below as you pivoted around to face him from atop the mat, his lightsaber now clutched firmly in your grasp.

Spinning slightly in the air so that his shoulder first made contact with the floor Anakin slid a few inches on the ground, coming to a stop on his back and looking up at you only to see his own lightsaber pointed down at his throat.

“Do you want to offer up your neck for an easy decapitation now?”

And to your surprise you heard nothing back but a laugh. A sound you didn’t think Anakin Skywalker was even capable of.

“That was good Y/N”

You felt your feet faulter beneath you, your knees nearly giving out, was that a compliment?

Your mind was still reeling as you shut down his saber and dropped it to the ground next to you, because Anakin Skywalker did not compliment you. Tease, chastise, bully sure he did all of those things but never compliment. And he certainly didn’t smile at you like he was doing now.

It was a weird sight to see, Anakin grinning from the ground below you, eyes twinkling slightly as his whole face changed with it, and to your horror you found a part of you liking the way it looked on him, as he extended his hand out to you.

Before you could even think better of it you reached out and grabbed his hand, helping to haul him to his feet, ignoring the slight tingle his touch left on your skin, blaming the way your cheeks felt hot beneath his gaze on the exertion of fighting him.

“You may never overpower your opponent but you’re fast” Anakin continued on as if nothing had changed, dusting himself off, the hint of a smile still playing on his lips as he talked “use that, dodge until you have them making sloppy attacks then strike as soon as you can”

It took you too long to notice that he was waiting for you to say something, little more coming out of your mouth than a half-hearted “yeah” that had his brows drawing in confusion.

Stooping slightly, he came down to your eyelevel, nose nearly close enough to touch your own, and for a brief moment staring deeply into each eye before shaking his head softly “that was probably too much for today wasn’t it”

Still you didn’t respond, not sure if you could’ve if you tried, for some reason unable to pull your gaze from Anakin as he looked at you, fluffy hair framing his face perfectly as if you hadn’t spent the last two hours dueling, as if you weren’t drenched in sweat.

Anakin frowned back in response, a single hand coming out to tuck a piece of hair behind your ear before he could think better of it. Then bending down and picking up his lightsaber from where you had dropped it “get some rest princess”

He spoke softly, softer than you had ever really heard him speak before he started to make his way towards the exit, leaving you standing on the edge of the mat, before he called out “I mean it, you did well today”

It was only after he left that it dawned on you, he had used your actual name.

Maybe it was naive of you to think that things could change so quickly.

That all it took was one decent lesson from him and the two of you could seamlessly slip into a weird sort of friendship.

Maybe you just wanted to believe you could put everything behind you so easily that you assumed he wanted to do the same.

You’d heard people gush about Anakin Skywalker before. About how helpful he could be, how nice, how charming.

You never got to meet that side of Anakin Skywalker, the man locking that part of himself from you practically the moment he met you. But you had really thought you were starting to see it these past few weeks.

The teasing comments had started to disappear, or they at least lost all their edge, coming off as more inside jokes than anything. He walked you to class every day, some days going out of his way to find you before he started to head in that direction. Your personal space found itself being invaded by him more and more, Anakin no longer going out of his way to put as much distance between the two of you as possible. Lingering touches, wandering eyes, inside jokes that had the two of you seeking out each others gaze in crowded rooms to silently revel in what was just said in a way only the two of you would understand.

Anakin Skywalker was quickly becoming your friend.

It was why when you got notified you were heading out on a mission to track down a bounty hunter with him for the first time ever you weren’t dreading the experience.

No you were actually excited.

Excited as you clipped your saber to your belt and headed out of your room.

Excited as you rounded the corner to head to your transport ship.

Excited as you stepped foot on the entrance ramp.

Excited as-

“I just don’t understand why she has to come with me”

It was as if a lead ball had dropped into your stomach. The excitement evaporating on the spot as a numbness took over and your step faltered, your body freezing in place just steps down from the ships entrance.

Because you knew that voice, but even worse you knew that tone. The anger, the contempt, the annoyance.

All it took was one simple phrase and you were ripped back into the same existence of just weeks ago before you had fallen for all of Anakin Skywalkers tricks.

“I agreed to train her and I’ve been doing that why does she have to hijack my missions now”

And you wished you could say his words didn’t affect you. Afterall just a few weeks ago you would’ve expected to hear them from him, you’d practically grown up hearing this resentment for merely existing in his vicinity.

Then why did they hurt so much now?

Why did they have a painful lump starting to grow in your throat?

Why did they make you wish the ground would swallow you whole on the spot?

Why did you ever think you could be friends with Anakin Skywalker?

“Yes master”

Anakin’s final words snapped you from your daze but still you had to force your legs to move you forward slowly, making sure that as Obi-wan exited the ship you were an appropriate distance back from the entrance.

He gave you a kind smile as he exited. As easy as it would have been to resent Obi-wan due to his proximity to Anakin you could never bring it upon yourself. “May the force be with you Y/N” he offered you with a small head bow.

“Thank you master Kenobi” you responded easily, mirroring his bow.

And he looked like he wanted to say more. Perhaps apologize for his padawan, perhaps offer parting words of wisdom, instead he seemed to swallow them, giving you one more slightly tense smile before departing, leaving you with no where to go but up the ramp.

Anakin’s eyes were on you the second you came into view, his face morphing too easily into a soft, friendly smile. “Hey, you ready?”

And it was the way he could flip the switch so easily, act so flawlessly that everything was okay, so effortlessly at ease.

Weeks ago you would have bit back, would’ve offered back some scathing comment, some backhanded remark. It was one thing that kept you from outright hating the young Skywalker. For every insult he spat you always had one to hurl back at him. He could insult you, berate you, belittle you, but you always came back swinging.

Right now though you didn’t have it in you.

You offered nothing more than a small nod of your head, not missing the way his smile morphed into a frown at it.

Maybe he was expecting you to say something, maybe he was gearing up for a fight, maybe he really thought you hadn’t heard him.

You couldn’t bring yourself to care what was running through his head at this moment.

You brushed past him towards the cockpit not missing the way his eyes never left you as you did so, not missing the way his hand hovered just over your arm, not missing the way he so hesitantly followed you.

You just had to get through this one mission and you could go back to ignoring Anakin Skywalker.

You weren’t as excited for that prospect as you thought you would be.

An involuntary hiss slipped past your lips the second your left foot hit the ground, your weight quickly shifting back to your right to avoid the pain, overcorrecting just enough to knock yourself off balance, all weight balanced dangerously on the edge of one foot as your arms reached out half-hazardly seeking anything solid to steady yourself.

Just before you could tip over another body slotted itself beside you, shoulders fluidly depositing themselves beneath your arm as another arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you into Anakin’s slide as he swore quietly “I told you to stay put”

You laughed bitterly at that, forcing yourself to lean back away from him as much as possible even as the arm on your waist tightened, his other hand clipping his saber to his belt so that it could come up and grab the hand he had thrown around his shoulders, effectively pinning you to his side as he started to drag you back to the wall “Yeah sure so you can just leave me”

You felt him still at your words, the grip on your hand and waist slackening for a second as your words seemed to hit him physically, your position keeping you from properly viewing his face as his voice came out softer than you had ever heard him “I wouldn’t do that”

His tone caught you by surprise. If there was one thing you knew about Anakin Skywalker it was that the man was loud, the way he carried himself, spoke, hell the way he flew reeked of confidence to the point of arrogance. Anakin was anything but the soft, almost vulnerable tone that just left him.

And you felt a part of you already starting to reach out to him, ready to pull him into your side and assure him that you knew that, assure him that you knew he was a good person, to tell him that you trusted him.

But another part of you couldn’t give up the way he tried bench you. How after everything you had been through: all the training, the way he seemed to go out of his way to be nice to you lately, how everything seemed to be looking up, he still thought you were nothing more than a nuisance, a less than.

Less than capable, less than a good jedi, less than an apt fighter, less than worthy of his trust.

His motion continued after the brief pause, the two of you finally reaching the wall and Anakin taking care to slowly set you down against it, a hand supporting your calf as you squatted down, careful to keep your foot off the ground.

“You’re right that’s probably a touch too far even for you, so instead you want to what scold me for getting in your way? Tell me I’m a shitty jedi for getting myself injured? Pull my hair and call me ugly?”

Anakin only sighed in response, one hand coming up to tangle his fingers in his hair as the other planted on his hip, Anakin doing nothing but looking down at you in your position on the floor. “why are you always so determined to see the worst in me?”

Again the softness in his tone gave you pause, the sincerity in it something you had only gotten used to in the past few weeks. “Anakin that’s all you’ve ever shown me”

“not lately” his reply came out rushed, a note of exasperation crawling its way onto his voice “lately we were good. At least I thought we were good”

You debated your next words for a second, debated how much vulnerability you were ready to show to the man who has been nothing but hot and cold with you for the past few weeks “I thought we were too”

“so what happened?”

“You tried to get me kicked off this mission” your answer was quick and blunt, eyes immediately picking up on the way his brow furrowed “don’t even try to deny it I heard you-“

“No that’s not-“ he cut you off quickly, letting out a frustrated sigh before continuing “I was trying to do the right thing”

“The right thing?” you echoed back now furrowing your own brow.

“You coming here was an unnecessary risk-“

“ah so you still don’t trust me” you interjected quickly, watching closely the way his entire body seemed to recoil at your words.

“What no-“

“we’ve spent weeks training, you’ve given me good advice, I’ve gotten better you’ve said so yourself. So I don’t get why you still don’t-“

“it’s not that-“

“So then what you still can’t stand to be alone with me for that long?”

“Y/N!” he finally cut you off with a small shout, crouching down in front of you close enough that he nearly occupied your entire field of vision, physically forcing you to pay attention to him rather than let your mind run any longer. “I was just trying to protect you”

Your eyes bounced back and forth between his for a moment, trying to decern the truth, trying to find the underlying meaning. “I don’t know why you think I need your protection. I can handle myself”

Another dejected sigh from Anakin, neither of you moving for a tense few seconds before you heard a muttered “forget it” underneath his breath as he pushed himself up to a standing position.

“we need to get out of here” he offered a hand to you, helping you stand though kept his gaze planted on the back door of the building “we’ll stick to the alleyways and use nothing but blasters if we have to, the sabers will be a dead giveaway”

And though you wanted to push the subject more you knew he was right, get yourself through this mission and you could go back to avoiding Anakin Skywalker. It had quickly become a mantra for you.

You let him pull you softly out the back door, Anakin carefully checking around each corner before ushering you forward, helping you hobble on your one good leg slowly back towards your ship. That was until you heard an eerily familiar voice around the next bend.

“Find the jedi scum and bring them to me. The separatists have plans so I want them alive do you understand me?”

Anakin didn’t hesitate before pushing you back against the nearest wall, using his own body to try and shield yours from view as he pinned you against it, one arm bracing himself against it just over your head.

You looked up at him with wide eyes as the two of you listened intently, footsteps slowly drawing much too close for your comfort.

From this distance you could clearly see the set in Anakin’s jaw as he kept his eyes planted at the nearest corner, muscles tense ready to pounce at a moments notice. That was when the thought struck you.

“Quick kiss me”

Anakin’s entire body froze at your words, his eyes snapping to meet yours blown wide in confusion and shock.

“Come across two people kissing in an alleyway they’re certainly not going to expect them to be jedi so quick” You explained in a harsh whisper, giving his robes a quick tug.

Anakin, however, stayed rooted in place, elbow on his arm planted on the wall locking in place to prevent him from getting any closer to you, wide eyes cemented on your face as his chest didn’t even rise with breath.

“Ani quick” you hissed, trying to snap him out of whatever trance he was in.

The footsteps continued to grow louder, the soft drag of a heel against the pavement your only indication that they were steps away from your hiding spot.

Anakin still didn’t respond, gave no indication that he had heard you after your first command. To no avail you tried to silently beg him to move with your eyes.

“Hey what’re you-“

That was all you let them get out before you made your next decision, grabbing for the blaster on Anakin’s hip you aimed and fired, the shot hitting them square in the forehead sending the hunter to the ground before they could even finish their question.

The blaster noise seemed to finally snap Anakin out of it, a soft shake to the Jedi’s head being the only indication that anything had been wrong as he wordlessly pushed himself off of you and snapped his gaze down to the dead man before you.

“What the fuck was that Anakin?” You hissed, giving his chest a small shove.

Anakin’s eyes, however, never strayed from the unconscious body beneath your feet, his chest heaving with each breath as he kept his jaw locked in place.

“Anakin” you tried calling his name again, another push to his chest, still his eyes never strayed from the ground, his body staggering slightly as he let you push him “you blew our cover and because what? You’re so disgusted by me you can’t put up with one stupid kiss for half a second?”

Finally you got a reaction, his stark blue eyes finally snapping up to meet yours, a steel hard gaze you weren’t entirely prepared for, eyes that begged you to drop it.

You couldn’t help but laugh bitterly at his look, limping a few steps back from him as you shook your head, the heels of your palms coming up to dig tiredly into your eyes “Even after all that’s happened you really still hate me so much you’d jeopardize the mission to get out of a kiss”

“It can’t happen like that” His voice surprised you, the words in of themselves confusing but his tone throwing you off more than anything, an almost pained ring in it sending you sparling.

“What?”

A quiet swear from under his breath as he started to pace “Our first” he called louder, as if that were an explanation, his hands clenching at his sides “It shouldn’t happen like that, it can’t”

And you could feel the frustration start to rise within you, the anger from his inaction ebbing to confusion “Ani slow down what is happening right now”

The nickname seemed to have the desired effect, his pace slowing to a soft stop, eyes snapping up to meet yours once again, an almost guilty expression on his face as he stood before you, Anakin Skywalker looking almost small before you for the first time ever “Do you know how many times I’ve thought of it?” he asked you softly, an anxious hand running through his hair as his eyes broke to look at anything but you “How many times I almost just-“ and he cut himself off with a sigh, a soft shake in his head as he looked down at his shoes, a small scoff escaping before he continued “to think that the first time it would happen was to maintain some stupid cover. That it didn’t mean anything. I couldn’t do it”

A part of your brain was lighting up with realization, another part pushing it back down with denial. He couldn’t be talking about kissing you, not now, not after sending you years of signals that said otherwise “Anakin what are you saying?”

His eyes connected with yours again, a pained expression and a small tilt of his head telling you to stop pretending you didn’t know, begging you to move past faking obliviousness.

But still a part of you was reeling back, sending a huff of air through your nose as you shook your head “How many times could you have really thought about it, you just started being nice to me a week ago”

“Years worth” the words came out on his next exhale, a small shrug in his shoulder as he answered “at least since we were nine”

But that didn’t make any sense, that couldn’t possibly be true “This isn’t funny”

A small bitter laugh escaped him in response, a soft shake of his head as he spoke “believe me sweetheart I’m not laughing”

You barely registered the words, your mind already reeling as it went over every thing he’s ever said to you since then, “you’ve been nothing but mean to me since I’ve met you” your words were soft, spoken more to yourself than to him but still Anakin opened his mouth to respond, your voice cutting him off before he could “always criticizing me in front of the masters, mocking my attempts to learn, making me doubt my own abilities”

“I’m sorry”

And some part of your brain registered that those were not words Anakin used lightly, knew the weight those words held for him. Another part knew it still wasn’t enough.

“You’re sorry?” You scoffed “you made me dread every moment I had to spend in your presence for years and the best you have is I’m sorry?”

Anakin had no response to that, his jaw visibly clenching as he fought to maintain eye contact with you, but no words came, he had no excuse, no real way to make up for it, and you both knew it.

“Why?” and the question shouldn’t matter to you, the ends didn’t justify the means, they couldn’t, but still you needed to know.

Anakin took a second, drawing in a deep breath as his gaze shifted to your feet, a small shrug of one shoulder before he answered “I wanted to get your attention”

And like that you were ready to start yelling again, because surely it wasn’t that simple, surely Anakin wasn’t that stupid, that childish. Instead, he continued on.

“I don’t think I realized that was what it was at first, just knew I liked it when you got in my face and pushed back, liked when you got so wrapped up in me that the rest of the world ceased to exist for a little bit” another pause, another deep breath “then once I figured it out I knew I needed to shut it down, the code meant I couldn’t get close, couldn’t form attachments. Pissing you off felt like a good way to keep you at arm’s length while still getting you to notice me”

A million different emotions swirled around inside of you, each trying to claw their way to the surface. You wanted to yell at him, tell him how stupid that was, berate him for having the emotional regulation skills of a child. You wanted to stay silent, let him stew in his miserly, in his guilt. You wanted to cry, the catharsis, the confusion, the mix of conflicting emotions all welling up inside of you, overwhelming you.

Instead, you spoke softly, your voice sounding almost hollow on your own ears “you know when you first came to the temple all the other kid’s thought you were weird”

Anakin’s gaze shot up to meet yours, a slight furrow in his brow as he tried to figure out where you were going with this.

“Looking back I think they were just jealous. You came in later than the rest of us but you already had a master, Obi-wan Kenobi at that, and you already had the councils attention, so they all tried to stay away from you” you took a deep breath, swallowing down the slight shake in it “I thought that was dumb and that I was going to be your friend so I went up to you and I was nice. And at first I thought you were nice. Maker I was so excited to make a new friend and then the next time I saw you it was like a switch had been flipped” Anakin’s disappointed sigh barely registered as you continued “so I tried to be funny, then entertaining, then chill. I tried everything I could to be someone who was worth your time”

You could practically hear Anakin’s teeth grinding as he clenched his fist at his side, leaning back to slump against the wall as he thought for a moment before speaking.

“When I first got to the temple I was scared.” He admitted softly, gaze casted out blankly to the wall on the other side of the alley “I had just lost Qui-Gon, the council didn’t seem to like me, I missed my mother. Then out of nowhere this beautiful girl my age came up to me, took my hand and told me that it was going to be okay, that I was going to be okay, and she said it with such conviction that I couldn’t help but believe her”

You waited with bated breath for him to go on, for him to fill in the gaps of your own story.

“Then what the council said to me about fear hit and I became ashamed of having been a coward, ashamed of needing someone to hold my hand, ashamed of being weak”

You couldn’t have stopped the small chuckle from escaping if you had tried “Anakin you are a lot of things but weak isn’t one of them”

He finally met your gaze at the sound, the corner of his lips tilting up in response “I certainly made sure it appeared that way”

Another silence blanketed the two of you as you each digested the others story, Anakin finally breaking it with a soft chuckle “you were an intimidating kid you know that?”

“I was not” you denied it with an easy shake of your head, barely giving the statement any thought.

“you were” he persisted nonetheless “you were the perfect jedi student, Obi-wan was always on me about being more like you. Listening to him better, meditating better, paying more attention in class”

“Bet that didn’t help the whole hating me thing” there was no resentment in your voice, a soft understanding if anything.

“Don’t you get it sweetheart” he smiled sadly “I’ve never hated you. I’m not sure I could if I tried”

You shook your head softly at that, eyes casted out over the alley around you, speaking after another short beat “come on Skywalker, let’s get back to the ship”

Anakin stayed leaned against the wall for another moment, giving himself a pause to study you before he pushed himself up and offered you his arm to help you walk with a small nod.

You hobbled further down the ally with his help, nothing but the sounds of your deep breaths until you spoke in little more than a whisper “you know you were so busy ‘not hating’ me I don’t think I ever got to know the real Anakin Skywalker”

There was a slight pause in his step at your words, his eyes shooting to the side to meet yours as he raised a brow “are you sure you want to?”

“If he’s anything like the man I’ve been around for the past few weeks” you answered with a small shrug “then yeah. I really do”

Anakin’s face broke out into a wide grin at your words, and you found yourself admiring it once again, for the first time your own mind remaining quiet as you did rather than chastising you for it as usual.

“I’ll try not to disappoint Y/N”

You chuckled softly at that, “Given your previous experience you’ve set the bar exceptionally low” you pointed out giving his shoulder a playful shove “ but I’ll hold you to that”

#anakin x reader #anakin skywalker #anakin x you #star wars imagine #star wars x reader #star wars x you #anakin fic #anakin x y/n #anakin imagine #anakin fanfiction #anakin skywalker fi #anakin skywalker imagine #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin skywalker x you #anakin skywalker fic #star wars fanfiction #star wars x y/n

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ffc1cb · 9 months ago

Text

new art blog

the short version:

1. i made a new art blog: @cbge;

2. @ffc1cb will stay up as an archive.

the long version:

hi everyone. this announcement is somewhat late, since the blog in question has been up for a few months now, and i’ve already started posting art on it. the reason it took me so long to “reveal” it is because i’ve been trying to figure out whether a new blog is something i actually want, or if it's just me throwing darts at a board, trying to make myself feel better somehow.

i don’t know when precisely it all started, but ever since sometime last year i’ve been going through a hard time, both emotionally and creatively. i’m not sure whether being depressed is what made art harder, or art becoming harder is what made me depressed (a bit of both, i think), but lately, drawing has been a struggle.

i’ve found myself having less and less energy for art, and this lack of energy resulted in poorer quality of drawings, which resulted in me feeling like i’m getting worse at it, despite my efforts. i knew i could make good art, art that i’m proud of - i’ve done so countless times before, - but somehow it felt like i just couldn’t anymore, like my hands forgot how to. nothing looked right.

i’ve been trying to experiment. i’ve learned some new things, tried this and that - it was enlightening, to say the least, and even though i kind of liked how it looked, it made me feel a sense of displacement. i was at odds with myself, my art, and how i felt about it, when previously i was always in sync. i was making art, yes, and it looked nice, but it felt like it wasn’t mine.

i suppose part of it was also the growing lack of engagement, and i don’t mean likes and reblogs - i never particularly cared about those. they are all just numbers to me; dry and impersonal. what i’m talking about is actual, human interactions: personal thoughts in tags, asks, replies, etc. a conversation.

i don’t mean to sound “old” or anything, but i remember when talking to artists online was more commonplace. my wife tells me it’s because the internet culture has changed over the years, that people have become more reclusive, less willing to be open with their thoughts, and she's probably right, but in my slump i find it hard to believe. somehow it feels like it’s my fault for being less “engaging”, for seeming unapproachable or perhaps intimidating. maybe it’s “just a skill issue”, maybe it’s because i have stopped churning out fanart for popular fandoms, maybe it’s because i refuse to torture myself emotionally by having an art account on twitter (i can’t fucking stand the place anymore; i still post nsfw art there, but only because it’s literally one of the only places on the internet that allows you to do so. i miss when you could post female presenting tits on tumblr).

i have always, ever since i started posting art on the internet back in 2012, done it for human connection. i wanted to talk to people, and have people talk to me. i wanted to inspire people with my art, and i wanted to bring them comfort. i wanted to elicit an emotional response, and have people tell me about it. it was one of the main reasons i drew in the first place; having lost that, i’ve been struggling to stay passionate about making art.

i miss being a small artist on the internet during the 2010s. i remember when i could make a post going, “hey everyone, how are you all doing today?” and it would not seem weird to people in the slightest. it is just me? does anyone else feel that way? am i too deep in my own head? the internet feels so unwelcoming nowadays, especially to artists. we are all just content machines; people scroll by our stuff, or maybe look at it for half a second and leave a like before scrolling away. i know it’s unfair to demand people’s attention, especially now when our lives are already so overwhelmed by everything - no one has the energy to pay closer attention; i myself am not immune to mindless scrolling. but it feels bad. i wish we were all sincere and enthusiastic again.

anyway (sorry for rambling. i hope i haven’t bored you to death), you might want to say, okay, but how is making a new art blog on a “dying” social platform going to help with any of that? the truth is, i don’t know. i just felt like i needed a change.

i’ve been running this blog since 2016 (that’s almost 8 full years!). i feel incredibly attached to it, but at the same time, i feel it weighing me down.

there are people who followed me years ago for one specific thing, still expecting me to post about said thing (i still find it mindboggling that some people follow artists for a specific fandom only, but that is a whole other matter for a whole other post that i will never write). a third, if not half, of my following are probably dead blogs. and with my current struggle with trying to regain the joy i once felt for making art, looking back at all the art i’ve done over the years makes me feel tired. i still love it all; it’s all very dear to me. i’m proud of it; looking at it makes me mourn my younger and more passionate self.

so i’ve decided to make a new blog, where i will let myself post whatever i want, in whatever stage of donness i feel like. maybe it will help me, somehow. maybe it won’t. but if you care about my art, if you want to keep following me on my artistic journey, i welcome you to join me there. similarly, feel free not to - no hard feelings.

thank you everyone for your support over the years; it matters a lot to me. i’m not planning to delete or private this blog; it will stay up, and i will still be reachable on here. i will still answer asks, if there will be any. i’m just not planning to post any art here anymore. this is it for my dear old friend ffc1cb.

i can be found in other places:

@cbge, as mentioned earlier,

@k0nstanta, an art blog dedicated solely to my wife and i’s ocs,

@inquisimail, a dragon age ask blog that has become my dragon age sideblog in general,

and multiple other blogs, none of which are art related, but feel free to ask, if you’re curious.

thank you very much for reading all of this. i hope you have a wonderful day.

#salt talks

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sickficideas · 4 months ago

Note

Hello it’s me Rui again! You’ve been so good to me recently for absolutely no reason at all but your own kindness. But I’m here to share some sickfics with you and the wonderful lurking community that looks at your page.

In my opinion, I think that finding good bsd sickfics is actually really hard. So many of them are too short, not enough buildup, emit enough suffering… you get the idea. I tend to find that sickfics are best (in my opinion) when there is good buildup and absolute suffering that then elicits care :]

I have 411 (mainly soukoku) bookmarks, that vary between hurt/comfort and sickfics. (Most are hurt/comfort because sickfics that I like are hard to find). I’ve spent an unholy amount of time going through thousands of bsd fics to find satisfactory sickfics, and I thought I’d share them here for anyone else who struggles finding them <3

Mainly focusing on emeto fics for this blog because that’s what the central topic here is lol. I hope you enjoy some of my stash! If you end up liking it, maybe I can share my larger stash of hurt/comfort. I wish this category wasn’t so sparse.

» Nothing || Fraink5 - https://archiveofourown.org/works/11365941

A sadder fic with a bit less emeto. TW for major character death. I know it’s not exactly emeto, but it has its moments, and I find that this short little fic provides some of the same things that standard emeto fics do. Definitively worth the read if you’re in the right headspace for character death.

» Nebulous || way1203 - https://archiveofourown.org/works/37985296

Beautiful Chuuya sickfic oneshot. It’s about the aftermath of corruption. There’s a lot of delirium, sometimes it is hard to suspend my disbelief, but I still enjoy this one a lot.

» You’re a Canary, I’m a Coal Mine || PlayRough - https://archiveofourown.org/works/37985296

One of the more popular bsd sickfics writers, but I found myself needed to include this fic. It is quite long, but it’s basically just Dazai suffering from sickness and Chuuya assisting him. I’m ashamed to say this has become one of my bedtime stories.

» surely i’ll go bite the dirty dust || lizzielovessharks - https://archiveofourown.org/works/36533236

I can confidently proclaim this as one of the most criminally underrated bsd sickfics I’ve ever had the honour of discovering. Chuuya and Dazai are severely injured after a mission, Chuuya can hardly walk, and he’s sick. They just get so tormented but there’s so much comfort in this short and sweet fic. The ending always makes me smile, and I find myself coming back to this one very often.

» In Sickness and In Heath || TheShortestAlchemist - https://archiveofourown.org/works/48006802

Chuuya taking care of Dazai :]

Less emeto but still provides much comfort for the soul.

» I’ll Take Care of You || Anonymous - https://archiveofourown.org/works/49949443

Sorry this one isn’t emeto either… but it’s chuuya being torment by Arahabaki so much that he gets a migraine that renders him unable to do anything. Still fulfills many sickfics desires.

» Poisoned Valentine || Wolf___Spirit - https://archiveofourown.org/works/53768785

Someone tries to send Chuuya home with poisoned chocolates with the intent to kill. However Dazai ends up eating them first, thus causing him to endure a lot of pain. (Read this honestly it’s wonderful)

» Burning Out || Trinity_of_Madness - https://archiveofourown.org/works/18899161

Long term corruption side effects… that’s all I’m gonna say. Take it or leave it as you see fit :] (it’s very fluffy, however it is quite bittersweet in case that’s not what you’re looking for)

» crimson headache, aching blush || kaiunkaiku - https://archiveofourown.org/works/24344119

More post corruption. Chuuya really needs a hug. He gets one. (Recommend reading lol)

» Underwater || TheGreatCatsby - https://archiveofourown.org/works/24344119

I’m so sorry. Not as much of a sickfic, but gosh it has to be one of my favourite comfort oneshots to ever exist. Chuuya does have a small emeto moment though. Ahhhh I’m so sorry for getting off track in these recommendations, I just have so many 🪦

» A Joyless Ride || calmlb - https://archiveofourown.org/works/55224694

This one is beautiful. I personally love the motion sickness Dazai headcannon. And this does a perfect job at demonstrating it. Dazai and Chuuya are on a mission, but they have to escape via Chuuya’s motorcycle. Dazai gets motion sickness that Chuuya had not considered.

» on standby for you || lonelydoctors - https://archiveofourown.org/works/48558496

Chuuya is hit with a virus ability and Dazai has to take care of him while he suffers. I really enjoyed this one.

» Flashover || affectropia - https://archiveofourown.org/works/35640841

Bittersweet concept that is the reason behind this fic being a sickfic. However, it has a fluffy ending, and is only the care taking half of it.

» beating drums and piping flutes - as they play the rain will fall || saanoir

This fic has to be another criminally underrated one. It’s the insomniac Dazai headcannon, except he starts feeling badly. All alone, he remembers a promise him and Chuuya made years ago. Hurt, even more comfort.

» I Think I’ll Just Collapse Right Here, Thanks || huntersserenity - https://archiveofourown.org/works/27219268

Chuuya has a drink poisoned. He is disoriented and not very functioning, but Dazai is there to assist him like he always is. (Very good, underrated, highly highly recommend)

Andd that’s all I got for now! Aside from another wonderful writers works that I didn’t include. Their username is ringingmaybelles and they make very very quality sickfics. Definitely read their work if you want the best there is to offer.

I’m sorry for the long list, I hope it is helpful/enjoyable. Sorry to come back and bother you with this essay. Thank you for letting me share these for the fellow sickfic enjoyers 😭😭😭

(Apologies in advance for the links not working I’m sorry ahh, you’d have to put it into your browser qwq)

RUI!!! You have no idea how much I appreciate you doing this for us 💖💖💖 hehehe...you're so sweet🙈🙈

I know a lot of people on this blog loooove SKK as well, and you've included many sick Chuuya fics here which I find more difficult to come across...this hand selected list is so beautiful and I really appreciate all of the effort you went through to give this to us 🥺💖

It took me a little bit to get to this ask chronologically between all the asks in my inbox but here are clickable links compiled for everyone's ease, since tumblr asks took yours away hahaha!!

I've included short summaries from the fic's original summaries along with Rui's descriptions, but please head the warnings and tags on the fics themselves!

Enjoy and share with fellow SKK sickfic enjoyers :))) I haven't read many of these and I'm so excited to dive in 🙏 let me know if any of the links are wrong so I can fix them, and if any of these authors see this and want to be tagged on tumblr ;)

Nothing by Fraink5

"Chuuya wakes up with a terrible fever--except he can't stay awake. Dazai is determined to keep Chuuya from losing consciousness, but how long will it last?"

Nebulous by way1203

"Chuuya struggles with the aftermath of using Corruption too many times and Dazai helps him through it."

You're a Canary, I'm a Coal Mine by PlayRough

"Super self indulgent Dazai sickfic."

surely i'll go bite the dirty dust by lizzielovessharks

" "Come on Chuuya," He muttered quietly as they felt themself having to pull Chuuya harder and harder to keep up, "Just a little bit further." -- or more Chuuya angst :) "

In Sickness and In Health by TheShortestAlchemist

"Dazai is sick and Chuuya takes care of him like the loving bf he is~"

I'll Take Care of You by toucheslikethesun

"Dazai walks into the ADA to find a desperate and distressed Chuuya looking for him, haunted by Arahabaki and having been unable to sleep for a long time."

Poisoned Valentine by Wolf__Spirit

"On Valentine's Day, Dazai steals and eats some chocolates that were given to Chuuya in the mafia. Turns out they were poisoned chocolates."

Burning Out by Trinity_of_Madness

" “Chuuya… We have to go…” Dazai whispered and pulled him up unwillingly. -- Chuuya held his hand, followed his guide with his usual smile on his face. Dazai’s chest tightened painfully at the sight, and he couldn’t stop himself from pulling him into a tight embrace."

crimson headache by kaiunkaiku

"the aftermath of corruption is its own kind of hell."

Underwater by TheGreatCatsby

"Chuuya has never liked water, but he never thought about why."

A Joyless Ride by calmlb

"Dazai hates motorcycles but right now he doesn’t have a choice. It does not go well"

on standby for you by lonelydoctors

"Chuuya gets hit by a virus ability and Dazai has to take care of him"

Flashover by affetropia

"Dazai tried again. Now, he gotta to deal with the pain, and Chuuya is there. He always is there when he needs."

beating drums and piping flutes - as they play the rain will fall by saanoir

"Dazai, in the midst of suffering another bout of insomnia, remembers a promise he made to Chuuya a long time ago -- to go to him when he's feeling bad."

I Think I'll Just Collaspe Right Here, Thanks by huntersserenity

" ‘ ‘Samu,’ Chuuya groaned. ‘Wanna take a nap.’ -- ‘You can’t nap right now, darling,’ Dazai said." "

The end 🏁 Enjoy!!

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sabo-has-my-heart · 11 months ago

Note

Hello I’m sorta new to ur blog and I would like to request an emergency request!

I don’t really know how it works so if there’s something I didn’t or did do wrong please ignore this!

I’ve recently caught myself having suicidal thoughts since I really do not like the pain of losing a loved one and think it’s better dying then ever experiencing it again. It sounds selfish but I can’t help thinking about it. It’s weird since for me the feeling of losing someone is way more strong then I think it is for other people and I know people around me will feel sad about me being gone but I tell myself what’s the point if I’m dead anyway. It’s a very selfish and selfless way of thinking and I know that, if you do not feel comfortable with this. Again please ignore this,

But how would law and sanji react to their fem! Partner having these thoughts?

Thank you and have an amazing day:)

First things first, let me say that my heart goes out to you. Second thing, please, please, please go see someone and get some help. I know it's probably hard or perhaps not what you want to hear, but please.

Warnings: suicidal thoughts, emergency request, mentions of death

Word Count: 1405

They were gone. How could they be gone? How could they be… how could they be dead? Feeling the tears run down your cheeks, you curled your fingers in your hair. Part of you knew that death was part of the job. It came with being a pirate, but to be honest, you’d never actually, truly thought about it. Something that was in the back of your mind but never something that was really real. You just wanted to die; better to die than to experience somebody else dying, right? Better to end things than to have to experience this pain again. Worse yet, watching everyone else go about doing things, it felt like you were the only one mourning. Did they not feel their death? They looked sad, but how could they just continue to go about their lives? Continue to work like they were? You didn’t even hear the door open, didn’t notice your partner looking at you with such sympathy and sadness. He’d noticed your change in mood, in attitude, and it had worried him a little, but now seeing you curled up on the floor, he was more worried than ever.

Sanji

The blond walked over to you, sitting down next to you before wrapping his arms around you, pulling you out of your thoughts as he carefully maneuvered you into his lap.

“I’ve been looking for you, ma cherie. Why are you hiding such beauty away in here?” he asked softly, placing one hand on the back of your head, stroking your head as he pressed your head against his chest to listen to his heart. All you could do was shake your head as the tears turned into full sobs. His arms wrapped tighter around you, trying to make out your words through your bawling. Finally making out what you were saying caused his heart to break. You were in so much pain. He wouldn’t lie and say that he was unaffected, but seeing how hard it was hitting you, he wished that he was more affected so that you would be less affected; to take away your pain, even if it meant taking it on himself. It reminded him of when he lost his mother, the pain stabbing at his heart, bleeding his young heart dry.

His lips met your forehead as he cradled you close, cooing gently as he tried to comfort you. Admittedly, he felt a little bad that he hadn’t noticed the severity sooner, but he also thanked the heavens that he noticed it when he did; noticed it before things went too far.

“It’ll be okay, mon amour, I’m here, I’ll stay here by your side and help you get through this, okay? I know it hurts, but please, please don’t… don’t do… that. I couldn’t live without you, you’re my entire world. Whatever you need, I’ll get it for you, just… please, I… don’t do that. And remember, I’m always here. You can come to me anytime, whatever you need. Please just… stay, for me?” he pleaded, tears starting to make their way down his cheeks. He didn’t want to make you feel worse, but it hurt him so much that you were even considering such a thing. You were his everything, his light, his love, he couldn’t bear to be without you.

“Please, please, please… don’t… don’t do anything, don’t leave me. You can call me selfish if you want, let me be the selfish one and ask you to stay. You… you’re too sweet, too kind, to be selfish like that. So let me be the selfish one and ask you to never leave my side.” He pleaded, nuzzling his face into the top of your head. Clutching his shirt as if your life depended on it, you could only nod, still sobbing. He didn’t know how long he stayed with you like that, only that Luffy had started screaming for him about lunch. Glancing down at you, his brow furrowed. You’d cried yourself to sleep. Carefully picking you up, he moved you to his bed before storming out to his captain.

“Luffy! Shut up! Y/n is sleeping and I don’t need you waking her up. I swear, if you wake her up, I’ll throw all the meat on the Sunny over the side of the ship!” Sanji threatened, making the boy’s eyes widen and nod. Sighing, he paused, “She’s taking this hard, just… let me take care of her for a little while. Just until she’s better.” Sanji requested, watching as his captain nodded again. He’d be there for you as long as you needed, anything to make sure you were okay.

Law

Being a doctor and being your partner always, always made things hard for him. When did he draw the line? Where did he stop and go “I’m a doctor and you need to take these meds”? At what point should he stop holding you close and instead get you a therapist? Standing here in front of you, he pondered this even more. Should he approach you as your partner or your doctor? Doctor or partner, doctor or partner? Taking a deep breath, he picked you up, drawing a surprised gasp as he ‘shambles’ed you both to his room, laying down on his bed with you and holding you close.

“If you needed to cry, you should have come to me.” Law said awkwardly, running his hand up and down your back, letting you cling to him. You were silent for a moment, not entirely sure what you should say. Finally you mumbled out what was wrong, the words muffled in his chest. His brow furrowed, his hand on your back halting for a moment. Doctor or partner, doctor or partner?

“You… I want… I want you to see someone about this… I need to know if you need to be medicated long term for depression.” he said after a minute. He was your partner, but he was also a doctor. This would be the best option for both sides. As a doctor, he wanted what was best for your health, as your partner, he wanted you to be okay. This would help you be okay… right? Laying there, the man grew nervous by your silence. Were you mad at him for suggesting it? Were you going to turn him down? Or worse, close yourself off? Finally, thankfully, you nodded. He was a doctor, he loved you, he’d know what was best for you, right? Sure, you wanted to die, but… but Law knew what to do, right? The man sighed in relief, his arms wrapping tighter around you, muttering quiet ‘thank you’s. Fuck, you’d scared him. He couldn’t lose you. He’d lost enough, he couldn’t lose you too, least of all to this, not like this. His family to the World Government, Cora-san to Doflamingo, he couldn’t lose you, not like that.

He couldn’t help but relax ever so slightly, relieved that you listened. You’d be okay, you’d get help and you’d be okay. He’d keep a close eye on you and you’d be okay, he’d make sure of it. It would take a while, he knew it would take a while, but you would be okay. Okay, he didn’t actually know that for certain, but with as scared as he was, he needed to tell himself that, he needed that reassurance that you wouldn’t leave him. Just like you, he couldn’t experience that again. Too many times had he seen that, he couldn’t do it again. Cuddling you closer, he breathed in your scent, as if trying to memorize it, as if he was still going to lose you. It was only now that you realized how much he was trembling, the realization dawning on you. He couldn’t lose anyone else again, just like you, he’d rather die than experience that again. It made you wonder how he did it. How did he deal with the crushing weight of knowing he could lose his entire crew yet stay so strong? Maybe… Maybe you could find out; maybe, if you stayed, you could find out and you could be like him, be strong like him. Slowly, your breathing steadied, evening out as you dozed off. Almost as soon as you were asleep, Law was letting the others know to head for the nearest island. He’d get you help asap, because he really couldn’t lose you too.

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aquabuggy · 1 year ago

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“Imagination, life is your creation”

Say, what band was it that wrote that song again? Escapes me… Oh well, anyways,

Happy Barbie Movie Release Day!

It’s nice to feel excited about something again.

It’s not every day you see a toy product centered movie gaining this much positive attention, much less one that deals in the existential horror of being alive. Which is, actually, exactly what I expected out of it and am very happy to see.

Barbie’s probably one of if not the most recognizable and successful product Mattel has, and it’s been that way for decades. But why am I talking about that here? This is a things-full-of-liquid-with-heavy-emphasis-on-water-games blog!

Well, you’re not gonna believe it, but Mattel being a toy company that’s been around for this long, has actually dabbled a bit in our territory! And they actually made a good couple of water games themed around a certain blonde blue eyed doll and her best friends!

So! Without further ado, may I present to you……..

Polly Pocket Tiny Games!

What? Was that not where you thought that was going?

Believe it or not, there really aren’t many Barbie water games at all, just cheaply reskinned ring toss games with a Barbie backdrop…which is both baffling and disappointing considering Barbie has had COUNTLESS beach, pool, sea, and just general water themes. Polly Pocket though? Got 6. You may recognize these if you’re a veteran of this blog.

Being one of Mattel’s latest ventures in water games, my sources tell me that these were actually received incredibly poorly, averaging at a 2-3 star rating. While definitely cute and unique, reviews often mention that the games seem to be designed more for aesthetics than actual play, and that it’s very hard to get some of the play pieces to actually move. Not too surprising looking at those cramped tanks. Wasted potential for sure!

Ohhh but I can’t just end the post there can I? That’s such a bummer! Well, what if I told you this wasn’t the first time Mattel tried their hand at making water games? What if I told you that in 1989 Mattel was one of the few big toy companies that actually dared to challenge the reign of Tomy’s Waterfuls during the peak of its popularity? Oh it’s very true, and considering you’ve probably never heard of it, you can safely assume how that endeavor went. But it’s intriguing nonetheless!

Introducing….

[ photo credit- rww121212, lb-squared, whats-in, and gilbe-niema on eBay ]

Trouble Bubbles/Fun Bubbles

Documentation of these online is mostly limited to listings on buy-and-sell sites (As always. I can’t stress how vital these sites are to conserving lost/obscure media.) so there’s not a lot known about these, and not many pictures of them either. What I can gather is that Mattel made at least 6 of these as well, 3 Trouble Bubbles games and 3 Super Trouble Bubbles games. The main difference between the 2 being Super Trouble Bubbles having a small switch that allows you to redirect the jets of water, which is pretty cool and admittedly not something I’ve seen in other water games! Both also have a wind up timer to challenge yourself to complete the game in a short period.

I’ve yet to collect one of these myself, but they look pretty decent in terms of quality and stand out nicely. They never fully took off in terms of popularity but I think they’re pretty cool, especially as a piece of toy history! Not too shabby at all for Waterfuls competition, my hat’s off to them! Not bad Mattel, sad they haven’t recaptured the same inventiveness for their Polly games. But hey, honestly? Nowadays would be a GREAT time to bring back Trouble Bubbles if you ask me. Water games are coming back in style and Waterfuls has been slow in new major products for quite a while. Who knows? It may just be able to snag that crown sometime in the future…

Unlikely.

But hey, anything’s possible in this crazy age!

#aqua #aquacore #water toys #water games #toy aqua #aqua toys #water ring toss #water ring game #water ball game #water catch game #colored text

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pokemenlovingmen · 1 year ago

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Hello!! I keep reading your ingo writing and man I love how you write him;; I am so gay for this man the closet is made of glass. Also MALE READER BLOG!!! PUNCHING THE AIR IN JOY AND GOING STIMMY MODE RN!!! AND RUN BY A TRANSMASC MOD!! JUST LIKE ME FR!!!!

I wanna request while I have the chance, I was thinking Ingo and a s/o with an overprotective Houndoom? I absolutely love Houndooms because 1: they look like my dog irl, and 2: big dogy :] ;; i just think it’d be cute and kinda funny to see Ingo try and win over his boyfriend’s big and mildly threatening dog.

Tysm!! <33

I… have nothing to say for myself for my absence. Life has been painful. I’m so so sorry my friend, your request has been the one I’ve been sitting on all this time.

But omg you’re so sweet thank you for the compliments!! I’m glad that you like my Ingo, he and Emmet are both written by me to lean unashamedly into hard autism territory so maybe that’s what it is lol.

And wow tbh I was considering not including that I was transmasc (still a bit… nervous in gay male spaces as someone who’s transmasc. I know it isn’t true, but I’m so worried of being perceived as not a man or less of a man in those spaces.) but I’m glad I did because I’ve pulled so many trans guys in to visit this blog and!! Big solidarity!! I’m giving each and every one of you a Platonic Kiss on the head

Meeting the Real Boss — Ingo x male Houndoom trainer Reader

⚫️ — Don’t let that serious face fool you, Ingo is just as soft and sappy as his more emotive brother. When he fell for you—that mysterious stranger who shook up the Super Singles Line that fateful day, he fell hard.

⚫️ — You were seen around Nimbasa the following days, but Ingo assumed you were just visiting, as he’d never seen you in the area before. So time to talk to you was limited, at least in his eyes. That was enough of an excuse to get him to give up and write you off as a passing fancy—but it was not enough of an excuse for Emmet who, the moment he found out his brother had developed a crush on one of the challengers, would stop at nothing to get you two talking. (Because he can lack all the social skills he wants and have as little confidence as any grown man could have in his speaking ability, but if it meant getting his dear brother a boyfriend, Emmet would turn into a social savant right then and there.)

⚫️ — So yeah, your relationship with Ingo started out interacting with Emmet more, mainly because every time Emmet not at ALL subtly dragged his brother over to talk to you, Ingo genuinely couldn’t look you in the eyes.

⚫️ — But eventually you guys got together via bonding through—how else?—battling! There was a love language Ingo could get behind, and after your repeat challenges became a constant thing at the Battle Subway, sometimes multiple times a day, he finally worked up the nerve to ask you out after telling himself he’d do so if he won your battle today. He did, and one nervous coffee date later, you two actually managed to start properly talking without needing Emmet (Emmet, of all people, even HE is shocked!) as the middleman.

⚫️ — All is well. You both share a great passion for battling—of course—and you find all his little quirks from his loud voice to stone face adorable. You definitely know you’re onto something real when you actually make him happily stim in public after saying he looks so cute and excited when he talks about the subway, something Ingo has tried incredibly hard to iron out through all the masking he’s done all his life. To be honest, you absolutely have him wrapped around your finger, but it’s okay, because you’re a total fool for him as well and would do anything to make him happy.

⚫️ — But as you two begin pondering how to define your relationship, wondering if it’s time to make things official, your Houndoom starts to realize Ingo is going to be more and more of a presence in your life as much more than a casual friend. And he takes issue with that.

⚫️ — Houndoom was always fine with Ingo before. The thrill of battling on the subway and having such worthy opponents was something you could tell Houndoom savored, which made it all the stranger that he began getting worryingly aggressive around Ingo.

⚫️ — You wanted to ask him to be your boyfriend officially a few times now, only for Houndoom to intrude by putting himself between you and Ingo, growling all the while as if he could sense what you were about to ask and did not like it.

⚫️ — Houndoom means well, he really does. He knows what happens when humans get close like this and knows that if you and Ingo continue down that path, he’ll be in your life all the time. Maybe even where you live. Maybe sleeping beside you. There to see you at your best and your worst and, most concerningly, your most vulnerable. But you only met recently, and even if his Pokemon seem to indicate he’s trustworthy, that doesn’t mean anything! You’re a part of the pack to Houndoom, and he is not about this total stranger (at least, a total stranger by his standards) being a permanent fixture in your life. How on earth could he earn the right to be by your side so easily? No, you’re part of his pack, and Houndoom is hellbent to keep you safe from the encroaching outsider.

⚫️ — (Does he completely miss how happy Ingo makes you? A bit—the protectiveness fogs up his perception, okay? And even if he does make you happy, Houndoom thinks the month and a half or so you’ve known each other for is not long enough to just welcome Ingo into the family with open arms.)

⚫️ — Ingo is… troubled, to say the least. He’s worried your Pokemon disliking him will make you dislike him, which you assure him otherwise. Even still, the Houndoom line is not native to Unova and Ingo knows very little about it, therefore he has absolutely no idea how to proceed. Unova has the Growlithe and Lillipup families, but they’re much more good-natured than this. Still, he loves you, and while he’s worried about causing friction with you and your Pokemon, your assurances that he’s fine are (relatively) enough to spur him to try and make peace with Houndoom.

⚫️ — Treats were some of the first things he tried, to minimal success. The only reason Houndoom let him into the house that day at all was because you begged and pleaded for him to lay off your boyfriend, and even then he watched you two like a hawk. Treats Ingo brought and Houndoom’s favorite snacks that you already had in the home did nothing to persuade him. Attempts to play? No. And Ingo knows better than to even think about petting him.

⚫️ — Eventually Ingo just starts rather desperately trying to exist around your Houndoom’s wrath. He loves you and doesn’t want to break the news but. Your Houndoom scares him.

⚫️ — You can’t say he didn’t try, though.

⚫️ — But then! One day, you get sick. It’s a pretty nasty stomach bug that lasts for a day but wreaks havoc while it’s there. You’re practically bed-bound from the severe nausea, but Ingo is there the entire time, fretting over you and caring for you like any good boyfriend should. Houndoom’s prerogative is the same. He’s worried for you and wants you to feel better. So while Ingo is bringing you plenty of fluids, nausea medication, blankets and pillows, Houndoom is there to cuddle up and keep you warm and calm. It’s just that… it’s very hard for Ingo to care for you when Houndoom won’t leave your side and growls whenever he gets close.

⚫️ — This time, though, Ingo doesn’t shy away. He’s too worried for you and even though Houndoom is being incredibly threatening and there is a part of him a bit worried for his own safety, he brushes right past Houndoom’s huffing and puffing to keep caring for you. He brings you water and helps lift the bottle to your lips while Houndoom snarls. He sits at the bedside and dabs at your face with a damp towel while getting death glares. His need to be wary of your Pokemon is greatly outweighed by his need to take care of you. Essentially, they’re both fighting for the role of your primary caretaker.

⚫️ — Time goes on, though, and Houndoom definitely notices how his snarling and snapping isn’t stopping Ingo from aiding you. And after all these negative interactions, Houndoom is finally stifling his concerns and instead just quietly watching. Then helping. He and Ingo have a common goal here. And while Ingo is certainly surprised to find the defensive Fire-type suddenly aiding him, it’s a welcome change. In seeing his dedication to you at your most vulnerable, Houndoom has at last deemed the Subway Master as a worthy partner.

⚫️ — While you’re sick, they continue working together to care for you until their own energy is spent. You wake up in the morning, a bit sweaty and nauseous, but otherwise feeling far better. And you look over to the foot of the bed where Houndoom usually curls up to see Ingo right there with him, resting his head on Houndoom’s side—the both of them are fast asleep, knocking out together after such long and dedicated day caring for you while you were sick. The hostility Houndoom regards Ingo with seems completely gone as he lets him rest against him to sleep. You can’t remember much of what happened last night, but you know both of your boys here were caring for you with all the love in the world…

⚫️ — And though you had been thinking this about Ingo for a while now, seeing Houndoom accept him at last really solidified the fact that Ingo was “the one”.

#pokemon x reader #pokemon male reader #ingo x reader #ingo x male reader #male reader #mlm #pokemon imagines #houndoom

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salvatwh0re · 7 months ago

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hellooo I just found your blog and it’s genuinely really interesting 🥹 !! I’m sorry if you’ve answered these questions before, you can totally just link em if that’s the case

I’ve been close to entering the void state a couple of times but I feel like I’m stuck? I don’t wanna say that because it’s something undesirable I’m not intending to manifest 😭 but it’s kind of how it feels like

I’ve tried lucid dreaming subs and for some reason I haven’t been lucid AT ALL, I’ve tried self concept/detachment subs and everything, always affirming positively and reminding myself I have the power to actually have everything I want. Yet I can’t help but have that doubt in the back of my head

I’m aware all of this is 100% real and can totally happen to me one day, I just don’t know how or when??

alsoo if you don’t mind, can I be one of your anons? refer to me as 🌻 anon if you’d like :]]

hi 🌻 anon!

i will gladly answer this questions for you! From what I read i noticed your problem is self-doubt, which a lot of my followers are struggling with as well. And as i’ve told them before, just be patient with yourself! Don’t focus on the how or when, instead focus on the present moment and how you’re feeling right now. Focus on your thoughts and truly feel for what’s blocking you. Everyone has limiting beliefs in some way shape or form and at first it’s going to be hard to truly identify exactly what’s limiting you. But at the end of the day the only thing limiting you is yourself. So, do some meditation, listen to some self concept subliminals (mine will be uploaded tomorrow but until then you can use the ultimate mindset one which has more or less the same benefits) and refocus your thoughts on believing in and trusting yourself! I know it sounds like BS but when you get past that phase (trust me i was stuck in it for 2 years) you will see amazing results 🫶🏽

#void state #loassumption #the void state #void success #lucid dreaming #reality shifting #shifting community #subliminal results #subliminals #meditation #manifestation blog #manifesation #manifesting #🌻 anon

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mbti-notes · 1 year ago

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Anon wrote: Hello! I'm an ESTJ (22F) and have had 4-5 incidents in my life where I've upset people badly because of my insensitivity. For example, when I was a teen, a friend wanted to go somewhere for a group outing, but I dismissed their idea and suggested going somewhere else which everyone agreed to, making that friend feel angry and unheard. Things like that. In the moment, I don't realise my actions can hurt people badly because personally, I wouldn't be hurt by that. But after going through several similar incidents, I realised the problem was indeed myself. So I’ve been working hard on being more tactful and considerate of other people’s feelings. Globally, my efforts seem to have paid off and my friends confirmed that I seem to have softened.

However, I’ve recently hurt a new friend (she’s an INTJ, 22F) because of this same lack of consideration. I damaged her trust in me when I told her that I’ve shared a personal experience of hers to friends of mine. At the time, I didn’t think that it was a secret and thought it’d be good to share her experience as to spread awareness. But she told me she was upset, and I could understand why, so I offered a sincere apology, which she accepted.

We started texting again, but only a few weeks later, I joke and say we don’t want to date frail guys because they wouldn’t be able to princess-carry us without getting crushed. I formulated the joke badly, and it could’ve sounded like I was saying that guys would get crushed under HER weight. She tells me that she’s insecure about her weight and even though she said she knew it was not my intention to say “You’re so heavy that guys would get crushed under your weight if they tried to carry you”, I am still told off quite sternly for the joke. I apologise immediately and feel very bad. It’s only been a moment after I’ve hurt once and here I am, hurting her once again.

However, this time, I also feel upset that she chose to interpret my words in the worst way possible. Badly formulating the joke was my fault, but she knew it was not my intention to say something mean. I feel like, in consideration of the previous incident, she still silently holds a grudge against me, so that the moment I slip up, she decides to have the most intense reaction to prove that I have done her wrong once again.

I have two interrogations concerning this:

- How should I deal with this friend? She still quietly holds onto my past mistake and I might have to continue walking on eggshells around her because it feels like she’s a lot less tolerant of any of my slip-ups. However, we don’t have the same type of sensibility from the get-go which highly increases the chance of me saying something that upsets her even if it’s far from my intention to do so. Should I graciously let our friendship go?

- It’s disheartening to see that even after making great efforts to avoid hurting others, I still manage to hurt them in the same way I did in the past. Of course, these kinds of incidents are a lot rarer now, but they still happen and it’s enough to cause damage in my newer relationships and it makes me feel I haven’t changed much… I don't want to upset any more people. Do you have any thoughts or advice concerning this?

Thank you for reading me and for your time dedicated to this blog, I really appreciate it!

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

When a problem recurs like this, it's a sign that there's a lot more to it than you first thought. Are you ready to get into the complexities of what it means to be "insensitive"?

There is no way to speak such that you never offend anyone. The fact of the matter is that you'll never know everything about a person, so you can't always predict what will upset them. The older someone is when you meet them, the more hidden baggage there is to contend with. When you're getting to know someone, you have to accept the fact that toes will get stepped on. IMO, you actually have to welcome and embrace those painful moments as opportunities to learn about each other's preferences. Can you shift your attitude to one of acceptance rather than blame (requires Si)? Whether it's blaming yourself or others, it is always counterproductive because of its narrow focus on shaming and punishing. Blame doesn't help and usually leaves everyone feeling worse off.

If the relationship is meant to progress and thrive, both parties have to be willing and mature enough to work through misunderstandings in order to come out more knowledgeable and better prepared to treat each other well in the future. When someone isn't willing to give you the benefit of the doubt or is absolutely intent on seeing the worst in you even after you've tried to make amends, you can speak up for yourself, make your intentions/desires about the relationship crystal clear, and make a reasonable request of them to be more patient and forgiving. However, you don't have control over people. If they just can't trust you because of their own personal reasons, then they just can't, and then you have to make a thoughtful decision about how much emotion to keep investing in the relationship.

I understand your frustration with this insensitivity issue because I've actually witnessed many ESTJs around me struggle with it throughout my life. At the end of the day, I'm about the furthest you can get from being ESTJ myself, so there's only so far I can get in breaking down the problem for you. The rest is for you to reflect on and put into practice. There are several points to chew on and digest:

I. Lack of Restraint

Te+Ne often produces the trait of being overeager to act, for example: leaping before looking, speaking before thinking, judging before knowing, deciding before deliberating, etc. This can easily be taken too far into social recklessness. Extraverts tend to be rapidly stimulated by socializing and it's easy for them to get caught up in the moment and just blurt out whatever is on their mind.

Unless you've been abnormally sheltered, years of socializing experience should've already taught you that there are certain topics of conversation that are risky to broach due to their potential for inducing conflict, hurt, or suffering. If you need concrete examples, anything related to:

age; ageism; bodily functions; health issues; death; dying

spirituality; religion; religious beliefs and values

politics; hot button political issues/debates

workplace gossip, relationships, or politics

money; income; personal finances; class; classism

physical appearance; height; weight; lookism; disability; ableism

mental health; mental disorders; psychological issues

private sensitivities, vulnerabilities, shames, or traumas

troubling, problematic, or painful intimate relationship experiences

sex; gender identity; sexism; sexuality; sexual orientation; homo/bi/trans erasure or phobia

ethnicity; ethnocentrism; cultural beliefs and values; cultural insensitivity; cultural appropriation; race; racism; xenophobia

social constructs like etiquette; norms; language; intelligence; justice; love

There are a variety of approaches people choose for handling these topics. E.g.: Some people avoid them altogether in hopes of staying out of trouble. Some prefer obliviousness because they have no interest or can't personally relate. Some resist reflection on them and don't want to care about social consequences. Some purposely bring them up to provoke or push their beliefs.

I don't like to dictate how people behave. The most I can say is: Anyone who hopes to have great social skills and increase their odds of experiencing meaningful relationships ought to:

take time to properly understand why these topics are fraught and difficult for some people to talk about

carefully consider what their own beliefs/values are in relation to these topics and whether they are well-reasoned

approach the topics thoughtfully and respectfully in conversation

be willing to listen and adjust their attitude/approach upon receiving negative feedback

have an effective communication strategy for working through misunderstandings, disagreements, and conflicts

For ESTJs, the remedy to lack of restraint is Si development. There are two aspects: (1) Si awareness leads people to be more attentive, conscientious, methodical, and circumspect - all of which are generally important when it comes to successful risk-taking. When you make yourself more aware of risk and danger, you'll naturally proceed more cautiously. (2) Si encourages you to develop and follow reliable rules of propriety for navigating difficult situations. You get to choose your method of approach. When you don't have a method, you're flying blind, and chaos is not far behind.

II. Lack of Boundary Awareness

Common manifestations of boundary issues include: freely offering up opinions and advice; trying to solve people's problems for them; telling people what to do ("for their own good"); being judgmental and critical of people's shortcomings or vulnerabilities. ESTJs often believe that they are showing care through these behaviors, but that's only true if the behavior was invited and wanted by the receiver. When it is uninvited and unwanted, these behaviors are all forms of trespassing onto the other person's personal space or violating their rights to privacy and self-determination.

When Si and Fi are underdeveloped, ESTJs have a primitive understanding of the concept of "privacy". This can manifest in two common ways:

(1) Generally speaking, they don't think much about private things, let alone talk about them. This means they tend to assume that if someone talks about something openly, it's not considered private.

E.g. What does the word "share" mean to you? If someone shares an experience with you, does it mean that it's now yours to do with as you please? Nope. That experience still doesn't belong to you.

(2) Generally speaking, they don't understand that different people have different privacy preferences and boundaries.

One reason people learn about type is that they want to learn about individual differences and how to reduce conflict when navigating them in a relationship. One of the basic lessons type theory imparts is that applying your own type preferences to someone of another type can lead to conflict if you end up disrespecting their type.

For example, did you know that Ni doms tend to be intensely private people? There are many reasons behind it. One being that they are statistically the least populated types in society. Simply by virtue of being the smallest minority, they are the most likely to feel unseen, unappreciated, or misunderstood by people and society at large. Many Ni doms are wary of opening up because they have a special way of looking at the world that is repeatedly met with some form of invalidation by others. This makes it understandable that they can be slow to trust people and even actively look out for proof of untrustworthiness. Regardless of your intention, acts of insensitivity serve as evidence to them that you don't really understand them and thus can't really be there for them. Knowing this, is there something you can do to reassure them of your trustworthiness?

In other words, some people have a wider privacy boundary than others for reasons that you may not be aware of. ESTJs tend to keep fewer things private than INTJs. Before you talk about someone in their absence, you ought to think twice about whether the information you're about to disclose about them is considered private to them. If you're uncertain, that's all the more reason to be cautious, because it means you don't know them very well and haven't been granted license to talk about them as though you do.

When in doubt, it is best to clarify a person's privacy preferences through good communication and obtain consent before you offer up information about them to others. If you want to show people that you care about them and can be trusted, you ought to take time to understand their personal concept of privacy so that you can guard and protect it as well as they do.

III. Lack of Discretion

ESTJs often don't realize how gossipy they can be. In the heat of conversation, they bring up whatever points they believe are relevant or helpful, without considering the social consequences.

Remember that privacy is necessary because information about people can serve as a kind of currency. It can be traded for personal gain. It can be exploited to hurt someone on purpose. It can be used to treat someone unfairly. Just as you wouldn't walk down the street waving hundred dollar bills around, you shouldn't be careless with releasing information about people.

A simple example: Imagine you suffer from depression but you manage it well and live your life smoothly, perhaps even capable of doing your job better than your colleagues. Would you disclose your depression in a job interview? You shouldn't, because, due to societal stigmas surrounding mental illness, the interviewer might unfairly judge you as an inferior candidate compared to someone without depression, regardless of your actual work performance. Now imagine a friend of yours had talked about your experience of depression to help out someone also suffering, and then that very someone turned out to be one of your rivals for a job position. They could exploit information about your depression to sabotage your chances without you ever knowing.

The word "discretion" is related to the word "discernment", which means "to exhibit good judgment". How is this related to relationships? Due to inferior Fi, ESTJs often have very primitive notions of fairness and equality. They tend to make the logical error of believing that being fair/equal means treating everyone the same or seeing everyone as being the same.

The relationships in your life are not all the same. Some people should mean more to you than others because they are closer to you. Some people should be categorized differently because they serve different purposes in your life. Some people should be treated differently because of the specific relationship dynamic they have with you that others don't have with you.

To exercise good judgment in relationships, you have to understand that 1) each relationship is unique because the individual you're dealing with is unique, and thusly 2) every relationship requires a somewhat different strategy for maintenance and development. Successful relationships require thoughtfulness, which is why they're hard work.

On the surface, it may seem like a noble idea to treat everyone the same, but, in reality, it ends up looking as though people are basically interchangeable to you, to be used or replaced at whim. Why? You don't recognize all the things that make each person an individual. Most importantly, by not properly acknowledging individuality, it doesn't occur to you that it's necessary to learn about and accommodate each person's unique set of needs, desires, preferences, sensitivities, identities, and personality traits.

To know how to honor people's individuality is related to your introverted development. Through developing Si and Fi, you'll better understand the importance of your own individuality, and why it's necessary to nurture and protect it. This then gradually allows you to see, respect, and fully appreciate other people's individuality as well.

IV. Weak or Inconsistent Values

Oftentimes, there isn't productive discussion about "what really happened" when feelings get hurt, people are emotionally reactive, and fingers are being pointed. In the end, the easiest way through the conflict is for someone to apologize and the other to forgive. Or else break up. Are these really the only two options?

Ts tend to understand insensitivity simply as "accidentally saying the wrong thing". However, this is a very superficial way of looking at it. While I understand that T insensitivity is usually not a result of maliciousness, others might not be capable of such insight when they're feeling hurt and emotional. Regardless of what you originally intended, what do others think when you behave insensitively?

Firstly, it shows them a kind of carelessness, thoughtlessness, or even callousness, depending on the severity of the infraction. When you are too loose and casual with something that is of great importance to someone, they will see you as not really caring about it and, by extension, not really caring about them.

Secondly, it shows them that there is something lacking in your moral values. When people observe that you don't value the same things as them, it brings into very sharp focus the differences between you, which makes it easier to lose sight of the commonalities. Without a strong sense of commonality or "being in it together", the foundation of the relationship starts to crack, the feeling of emotional connection erodes, and then the willingness to keep the relationship going weakens. The more that differences of values appear to build up between you, the faster the relationship deteriorates. This is true for friendship and romance.

These two points are meant to explain to you the process of how exactly insensitivity damages a relationship. It's not meant to trigger self-reproach, but to allow you more insight into how you are seen by others, so that you have an opportunity to change how you come across to them.

When Si and Fi are underdeveloped, the fact is that ESTJs don't hold much sacred. While this is a personal choice, it can come across to others as a negative trait if it leads you to unwittingly trample all over what they hold sacred. Developing Si and Fi should help you improve on this aspect of the problem. There are two prongs of attack:

(1) Preventative Measures: As I outlined earlier, be more thoughtful about topics that are controversial but of great importance to the people you're interacting with. Start by clarifying your beliefs and values and what you hold sacred. Then, learn more about what the other person believes, values, and holds sacred.

For relationship development: Appreciate and regularly reinforce the common ground between you. Also work to alleviate the differences between you, either by reconsidering your beliefs/values in light of the new information they provided, or finding a way to agree to disagree about the points that you haven't yet been able to reconcile together.

(2) Healing Measures: There's no use crying over spilled milk, throwing around blame, or punishing yourself with unending guilt. When something has already happened, accept the reality of it, and figure out how best to mend what was damaged or broken.

Healing is usually best achieved through open and honest communication, to properly process the event so that both parties can achieve a sense of closure and move on from any hard feelings. However, remember that you can't control how others feel, and strong emotions take time to fade away. Never expect immediate results. You can only try your best to put hard feelings to bed, and then allow the other person time and space to heal.

The first time you offended your friend, it was over a matter of privacy. As explained earlier, you could show your commitment to doing better by actively learning more about her privacy preferences, understanding the reasons behind those preferences, and making a vow to honor and protect them in the future.

The second time you offended her, it was because you did not give enough thought to or place enough value on something that has a great impact on her life. While it was unintentional, you still have to confront the hurt, otherwise, there's no moving forward. Perhaps you can explain how you didn't see it that way because your personal experience has been different, but, since you've had a chance to hear about how important it is to her, it is now important to you. If you want a close relationship with someone, what's important to them should be important to you as well, as a way to show care, consideration, and solidarity in helping to shoulder their hardships. When people have a strong belief and value system, one important way to show you care about them is to consistently step up and stand up for those beliefs and values as an ally.

To heal a conflict, you must reinstill confidence in the relationship. By taking time to properly understand her point of view and taking steps to show her that her beliefs and values are also important to you, she is more likely to feel reassured and regain confidence that the friendship is worth salvaging and nurturing.

#estj #estj relationships #auxiliary si #inferior fi #entj #insensitivity #communication #conflict resolution #tactfulness #privacy #boundaries #values #empathy #ask

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