#but instead of talking to me he sent other people to deliver messages

[max-fewtrell]

.

[tyuninthemirror]

— beside you: c.bg

— pairing: idol bf!beomgyu x fem!reader — genre: slight angst, fluff — word count: 2160 — disclaimers: none — synopsis: being on tour, all beomgyu wanted was to be beside you. he did all he could to make time pass, but did he ever consider how you felt? — series masterlist

— author's note: honestly, this wasn't my best work but i felt like i needed to get this out to get the series going. :( hope you still enjoy it though! ♥ (edited 6/30/23), (re-edited 7/22/2024)

You checked your phone yet again that evening, a sigh escaping your lips – one of many that night. Your message had been sent at noon, delivered by 2 pm, but it remained unread.

The official TXT Twitter had confirmed they'd wrapped up their show in Houston, and as midnight ticked closer, you couldn't help but wonder why Beomgyu hadn't replied yet. You let out a self-deprecating chuckle, the sting of unshed tears blurring your vision as you stared at your phone screen.

You and Beomgyu hadn't been going out for long. You two met months ago since you worked at the game store he often frequented, but you only officially got together right before he went on tour. You knew dating an idol would be hard, but you couldn't ignore your feelings for him.

You supported everything he did and were ecstatic to hear he was going on tour. Everything went well in the beginning, Beomgyu messaged you when he woke up and sent photos of everything he ate, but stopped a few days ago when they arrived in New York. Sure, you understood the time difference and their busy schedules, but it suddenly took him over a day to reply, even if he was actively responding on Weverse.

"'Message me whenever,' my ass," you snickered, repeating the words he told you as they were leaving Seoul to start their world tour. You wiped your tears away, switched your phone off, and headed to bed, a thousand scenarios rushing through your head.

"Are we leaving yet?" Beomgyu groaned in the van, checking the time for what felt like the hundredth time. "C'mon, let's get going, people!"

"Jesus Christ, what's the rush?" Yeonjun snapped, glaring at the younger boy from the front.

"He's just anxious to finish everything and return home," Soobin interjected with a chuckle from his seat next to Beomgyu. "Y/N is waiting for him and all."

Kai snickered, joining in on the teasing. "I'll bet he's been bombarding her with those cheesy kissy emojis."

"Of course he has!" Yeonjun chimed in with a mischievous smirk, turning to face Beomgyu. "Have you seen all the stuff he bought her? I bet he's sent a billion photos to show off."

But instead of responding with his usual snarky comeback, Beomgyu fell into an uncharacteristic silence as he stared at his phone in his hand.

"Uhh, are you ok, Beomgyu?" Soobin asked after a brief pause.

"Am I supposed to be doing that?" Beomgyu asked, looking up at the boys who stared right back at him.

"You mean the texts?" Taehyun asked in return, confused at why the atmosphere had gotten serious. Instead of a goofy 'gotcha!' or joke, the older boy just nodded.

"Well, don't you want to show her everything you're experiencing abroad?" Yeonjun questioned. He always sees Beomgyu on his phone and assumes he is texting you. "Don't tell me you haven't been texting her?"

Before Beomgyu could respond, their manager gets into the front seat announcing their schedule for the day. Soobin and Yeonjun looked at each other, a bit worried at how Beomgyu had reacted earlier.

"Hey, is everything alright?" Soobin asked as they returned to their shared hotel room, Yeonjun following behind them. Though Beomgyu seemed normal throughout their schedule, something felt off. The older boys noticed how Beomgyu stared at his phone throughout the day.

"Yeah," Beomgyu answered, smiling a little bit. "I couldn't understand some of the questions during the interview earlier, but I think my English is improving!"

Yeonjun wasn't convinced. "We're not talking about the interview. You've seemed… off."

"What do you mean?"

"The conversation this morning seems to have bothered you," Soobin explained. "So we just wanted to make sure you're ok."

"Yeah, I'm ok, but I do miss Y/N a lot," Beomgyu chuckled, his voice cracking a little as he finished his sentence. Yeonjun was about to tease him about it, but he held it back when he saw Beomgyu's eyes glaze over.

"It can't be that bad," Yeonjun comforted. "Don't you guys call each other at night? It's not like you can't see each other."

"I haven't called Y/N in a while," Beomgyu admitted. That's when it clicked in Soobin's mind. He had been sharing the room with Beomgyu through their tour, but he had yet to see him on the phone with you since the New York stop.

"Did you guys break up?" Soobin cautiously asked. But it didn't make sense to him because he had just seen Beomgyu buy you a new pair of earrings when they were out yesterday.

"No! Of course not!" Beomgyu exclaimed, jumping up from where he was sitting on the bed, panic evident in his voice. "What made you say that?"

"Listen," Yeonjun sighed, pushing Beomgyu to sit back down on the bed. "If you don't tell us what's going on, we can't help you."

Beomgyu stared at the two boys standing in front of him, contemplating whether or not he should tell them. After a minute or two, he sighs in defeat and opens his messages with you.

y/n ♥ - 7/17/2022 - 22:00 i just had lunch~ did anything interesting happen in houston? miss you lots, hope today's show went great! x

"Choi Beomgyu, these are from last night," Yeonjun's rebuke was stern as he held the phone. Soobin's brows furrowed as he read more of your one-sided conversation.

y/n ♥ - 7/14/2022 - 10:00 it's midnight here now, i hope i'm not texting at a bad time. :)

y/n ♥ - 7/15/2022 - 13:00 it's 1pm there, you must be busy preparing for tonight's show. break a leg! i'm heading to bed since i have an exam in the morning. i miss you. xx

y/n ♥ - 7/15/2022 - 17:00 good morning from my side of the world! don't forget to take the probiotics i packed for you!

me - 7/15/2022 - 22:00 hey, y/n! hope your exam went well! the last few shows went great. we'll be heading to houston soon.

y/n ♥ - 7/15/2022 - 22:10 it did! the professor was nice enough to give us extra point but i think i barely passed. :))

y/n ♥ - 7/15/2022 - 23:30 you must be asleep, sleep well! xx

y/n ♥ - 7/16/2022 - 07:00 sorry for texting this early in the morning, but i just wanted to say good night. i miss you. x

"Did you really only reply once out of all these messages?" Yeonjun's disbelief was evident. "Honestly, I'm surprised she's still waiting around."

"So much for missing Y/N," Soobin commented, handing the phone back with disappointment. "How could you leave her hanging like this?"

"I do miss her," Beomgyu's words were muffled by the mattress. "But every time we talked, I just… missed her more. I thought if I messaged her less, time would fly by, and the tour would end sooner."

Yeonjun shook his head, sitting beside Beomgyu. "That's selfish, man. You're not the only one in this relationship. Y/N understood what dating an idol entails, and she signed up for it."

Soobin chimed in, "She knew about the distance, the crazy schedules, the secrecy. She was prepared to deal with all that."

"Maintaining a relationship takes effort, especially in our line of work," Yeonjun added. "You need to balance your career and your personal life. And you can't just wish the tour away."

Silence hung heavy as Beomgyu processed their words. Eventually, he nodded. "You're right. I'm sorry for worrying you guys."

"We're not the ones you should be apologizing to," Yeonjun pointed at the phone.

As if on cue, your message popped up, and Beomgyu's face lit up, only for his expression to fall as he read it.

y/n ♥ - 7/18/2022 - 19:00 beomgyu, i think we need to talk.

"You dumbass," Yeonjun facepalmed.

"Talk to her. Just be honest," Soobin advised, allowing Yeonjun to cool down for a second. "I'm sure you can fix this."

"You better! How many times we've stuck our asses out to cover for you when you snuck out to meet Y/N! Don't let it go in vain!" Yeonjun scolded, raising his voice.

After asking Soobin and Yeonjun for some privacy and replying to your message with a 'call you in 5 minutes', Beomgyu spent the next few minutes scattering his brain, thinking of an excuse for his stupid behavior.

"Hey," Beomgyu's voice was soft as he greeted you, a tentative smile on his face.

"Hey," you returned the greeting, managing a smile despite the whirlwind of nerves inside you. You had braced yourself for a conversation that might end everything, especially after the silence on his end.

"Gyu, I just—" you started.

"I'm sorry—" he blurted out at the same time, and you both paused, a brief moment of laughter breaking the tension.

"Sorry, go ahead," you urged, your heart pounding against your ribs.

Beomgyu took a moment, his eyes cast downward. "I owe you an apology for the way I've been lately," he confessed, visibly uneasy. "I’ve been delaying my replies to your messages on purpose… I thought if I didn’t read them right away, time would pass faster and I'd be back with you sooner."

A sudden wave of confusion washed over you, rendering your mind blank and your thoughts scattered. His words seemed to hover in the air, not quite reaching your understanding.

"Y/N?" His voice cut through the fog and brought you back to reality.

"Sorry, can you repeat that?" You blinked away your confusion, struggling to grasp the meaning behind his words.

Beomgyu repeated his apology, his half-smile now tinged with regret. The sincerity in his voice was palpable as he spoke. "I've been missing you so much, I thought I could make the tour go by faster. I never meant to ignore you or make you feel unimportant."

Tears welled up in your eyes as he expressed his true feelings. The anxiousness and fear that had consumed you for the past few days melted away in an instant.

"No, Y/N," Beomgyu denied in a panic. "I handled it all wrong, I thought you would be lonely there while I was out here."

"Dummy, I'm so happy you're out there seeing the world. You've wanted this for so long," you tell him. "I'm sorry if I'm coming off as clingy. I just wanted to make sure you're taking care of yourself. You should enjoy being on the road as much as you can."

"Baby, sorry should be the last thing you say," Beomgyu sadly shakes his head. "I promise I'll communicate better from now on."

"Thank you, Beomgyu," you said, feeling a wave of warmth at his words.

"So, to more important things," Beomgyu exclaims, setting his phone down on the table and standing up from where he sat to riffle through his luggage. "Look what I got us! Matching beanies!!!"

You two talk for the next few hours until Yeonjun begs him to go to sleep.

"Good night, Y/N," Beomgyu smiled, looking at your face through the screen as you lay in bed. "I'll let you know when I finish my schedule tomorrow. I love you."

Your heart skipped a beat. You hadn't exchanged those words before the tour, and hearing them now felt monumental.

"I love you too, Gyu," you responded, your voice a whisper.

From off-screen, Yeonjun's voice chimed in, half teasing, half pleading, "Great, lovebirds. Now can we please sleep?"

With a shared chuckle, you both said your goodbyes, closing the call with reluctant smiles.

The screen went dark, and the quiet of your room enveloped you. Beomgyu's words echoed in your heart, a soothing balm to the ache of the past few days. Despite the distance, you felt closer to him than ever, knowing that love could bridge the gap between continents.

Meanwhile, Beomgyu lay back on his bed, staring at the ceiling with a contented sigh. The weight of his worry had lifted, replaced by a promise to do better, to be the partner you deserved, even from halfway across the world.

There was a soft knock at his door, and Soobin peeked in, a knowing smile on his face. "All good?" he whispered.

Beomgyu nodded, his smile a mirror of Soobin's. "Yeah, all good. Thanks, hyung."

Yeonjun's voice floated in from the hallway, teasing but warm, "Now get some sleep, Romeo. We've got another big day tomorrow."

The room settled into silence as Beomgyu drifted off to sleep, a single thought comforting him into dreams: 'I love you too, Y/N.' It was a simple phrase, yet it held the power of his entire world.

And so, the night passed, with both you and Beomgyu holding onto the love that had been reaffirmed, a love that would continue to grow with each passing day, no matter the distance, even if you weren't beside each other.

[cindylouwhooo]

Chapter four

Gigi’s POV

Lando Norris sent you a message

“Let’s watch a movie instead.” I suggest. “Maybe ‘Cars’. It’s fitting.”

Francisca rolls her eyes and drops down her makeup bag. “No. We said we’d get you out of the house and both you and your manager agreed the Grand Prix is the perfect distraction. Imagine how much you need this for your manager to tell you you need a distraction.”

I plop down on the bed behind her, silently sulking. It’s not that I don’t want to go. Seriously, under any other circumstance I’d be jumping up and down like a teenager at the chance of going to a GP.

But the crippling terror that rips through my belly and rises to the top of my chest at the thought of leaving my studio…it kind of ruins the whole experience.

Kika, sensing my hesitation, drops the brushes on the makeshift vanity and places herself in front of me. “I love you and I’m telling you, I wouldn’t force you to do anything that could possibly be wrong for you.”

I fake a smile, wanting to show her I appreciate her. If she notices the lack of honestly on the shape of my mouth, she doesn’t call me out on it. In fact, she gives me a moment to myself, turning to the mirror and starting her makeup routine.

My body lays flat on the mattress, my heart going a mile a minute when I remember the interesting notification that popped on my screen in the morning.

Pondering whether I should actually

send this message. Your friend

scared the shit out of me when I asked

for your number.

Yeah, she’s protective

like that. ‘S why I love her

No I get it,

Not sure if I can smoothly make

this conversation go on so, I’ll

just get to the point.

Should I be scared?

Absolutely not, I don’t bite.

Bummer:/

seen

I wait a few seconds in the chat, giggling at the little seen word underneath my last sent text. Adorable, how easy it was to leave him speechless—my heart starting to pound against my chest for a completely different reason.

My mind cannot come to terms with how my body and emotions react to this stranger. Sure, he’s attractive. Funny and charming—at least in his interviews. He’s got that British accent that drives me insane and the facial hair that contrary to popular belief, suits him incredibly.

But none of that justify the whole situation. It’s a magnetic force that I cannot ignore and that pulls me out of that bed and on my feet; grinning and mind spinning with the excitement of a new Internet crush. My favourites.

“So, what’s the plan exactly?” I ask.

“We go watch FP1, have a drink, talk to some people—Lily, one of the driver’s girlfriend, has the gossip to tell me, apparently.” I smirk, wondering when was the last time I cared enough for drinks and good gossip. “Then we’ll just drop by Alpine, say hi to Pierre, maybe force him into introducing you to some engineers. And then we can come back to the hotel, eat, wait for the end of FP2 and then…”

She draws out the last word, for the dramatic effect. “And then?”

“Then it’s night out with the boys.”

Lando’s POV

My heart drums inside my chest yet it feels like it’s stuck inside my throat. I try to swallow it down, pretend as if I’m not going crazy over being left on delivered for the past hour—or that the girl who’s been occupying my mind lately is quite literally twenty steps away from me.

She’s here with Kika, Pierre’s girlfriend, smiling and socialising. Talking to everyone but me.

She knows I’m here, she’s seen me. I know it, because I’ve been playing the moment her eyes met mine over and over again in my head.

Fuck, I sound like a fucking teenager.

Reporters and journalists, drivers and other celebrities have tried to get a moment with Gigi Santos who’s enamoured every single person attending the Monaco FP1 session. She’s constantly circled by someone—everyone.

And I just…I just stare like some fucking wanker, unable to move a muscle towards her.

And then she turns her head, putting a stop to her conversation with someone whose name I should know, but don’t, and looks at me.

And fuck if my heart doesn’t jump to the heavens.

I don’t know how, but that woman sees me, like no one ever has. She hasn’t spoken to me once, hasn’t fully, officially I traduced herself. But under her gaze I feel like she sees me. Her lips tilt upwards and her slender fingers rise to the side of her beautiful face; in a second, they start dancing and it takes an embarrassingly long time to realise she’s waving at me, and it’s my time to wave back.

Someone is speaking to me, but I can’t fucking focus on anything else other than Gigi.

Her eyes are—fuck, she’s just—

Gigi giggles, and turns her head to continue talking with her friend and I frown at the loss of contact.

“Lando, it’d be great if you could come back to earth long enough to listen to me.” The voice of my PR manager’s voice snaps me out of my haze. “You’ve got to get into the car in five.”

I nod, even though I haven’t registered what she’s said.

Damn is this session going to be hard.

~ ~ ~

My brows are lowered in concentration, listening to my engineer explain the situation. FP1 was slightly upsetting, the car not wanting to turn properly, clipping the tight walls of Monte Carlo more that once.

But the second session seemed to be going better, until the voice of my engineer was heard fifteen minutes in, ordering me to come into the pits because the car shows to have an issue. Hydraulics, they suspect.

Guilt shimmers in my chest as I allow myself to leave the garage earlier than most—overpowered by my negative emotions and wanting to get away from the scene.

I open my phone, a fairly distraction, and come face to face with a wonderful surprise.

Maybe today won’t be so bad after all…

[mybookof-you]

My current attitude toward the fast-approaching election day is one powered by mixed emotions. I know it's not over until it's over, but part of me is overwhelmed and slayed by the fact that so many Americans appear to support a man who can stand up and sway to music for what seems to be an eternity during what is supposed to be a critical event designed to convey meaningful information to his supporters. What he seems to be saying here through his actions is that he just doesn't care. He believes he can do just about anything, and his people will follow. Those who disagree can make fun of him all they want, and the result will be the same: his base is solidly sold on his message. It doesn't matter that his message is mixed, fabricated, or totally ridiculous. His people are sold on his promise to deliver specifically to their personal, diverse, contradicting, opposing needs.

It's like prayer. You pray for what you want, and the god seems to be listening, so you keep praying, you keep believing, you keep being a faithful member of the flock. Ut-wo. Instead of a steady, harvest- ensuring flow of steady rain, there came a flood. No worries. god is god. He will come through in the end. It will be heaven. You'll see. Meanwhile, people are drowned en masse, and there is no way to escape it, unless you were faithful enough to build an ark like god told you to. Those are the ones who get to enjoy more fruitfulness and multiplication. The believers. The others got what they had coming to them, but not you. You are special and sinless, because you believe and you confess, and you start over again and again.

Snake oil. When I look at the candidate, Donald Trump, I see a very successful salesman. He knows how to motivate and how to manipulate. He's no dummy. He can speak out of both sides of his mouth, work that groove, and deliver the sheep unto the market all at the same time. He's a multi-tasker, a multi-crafter, and an expert at fibbing. It's all harmless until you find yourself in the mouse-trap. You took the bait, whether you're a believer or not, you deserve what you get. Please, don't take me with you.

Perhaps some join the bandwagon, because, heavens to Murgatroyd, something has got to change, things have to get better, and I know that things that are said don't always mean what they mean, and I am betting that Donald Trump is a better man than all the things he has done before, all the things he has said. He really is talking to me when he says he's going to make things better. Things certainly aren't better now. Not for me. nuh-uh. I want capitalism at its most monopolist, laws at its most freedom-restrictionist, and leadership at its most definitive authoritarian glory. Somebody make a decision, make it happen, and deliver a change. Anything has to be better than what my life is like right now. Poopy-doos.

I really don't get it. Somebody explain why you would want a stacked Supreme Court ready to diminish human rights and call it good when the states can take over and do all that dirty work for them. Why would you bother citizens who are no threat to your lifestyle, those who are making choices for themselves? None of your choices have been eliminated.

Don't let your kid read that book if you don't want them to. That is your right. Read the newsletter that tells you what is going to be covered in your child's classroom. Talk to the teacher who is a trained professional and find that their approach to the classroom is flexible and designed to accommodate your needs and preferences. Your rights are not threated in any way. Someone has been selling you snake oil.

Not communing with anything I said? That's okay. So far, it's still a free country, and I'd like it to stay that way. I don't ever want to fear that I will be sent to jail for having an unpopular opinion. I don't want to find out what this country, whose citizens "will never have to vote again" will look like under the rule of Donald Trump.

I will vote for Harris/Waltz, not because they are perfect representatives of all of my viewpoints, not because they are polite, not because they can magically deliver on all the wish-lists of special interest groups, but because the candidates represent the possibilities of the kind of country I want and believe in. That is a country where no one group is more important than another, where people are heard and listened to, where votes matter, and where the leaders are in alignment with the voices of the people.

None of us are going to get everything we want. That is not possible in a country of such blessed diversity. What we can work toward is a country that values its people and envisions a future which is profitable, sustainable, and inclusive. You can be a bigot and enjoy all the freedoms of the majority of minorities. if you want. Just don't take away my freedoms. I have just as much a right to be here as you do. I have just as much right to be me without the fear of displeasing you to the point of social suicide. I just want to live with the same opportunities, the same resources and economies, and the same respect you seek. I am willing to compromise on what the blueprint to that kind of society might entail, but not on the results. To me, Donald Trump represents the blueprint of a disastrous deluge of inequality and suffocation.

We can't afford to mince words anymore. We can't worry if we are going to offend. We don't have to be rude. We can't stand behind a veil of smoke knit with promises. We may lose, but let's be frank, we see Donald Trump for what he is, and he is not my president.

[cloudwhisper23]

Yet another day gone! It still counts as Grumbo even if one of the characters doesn't actively show up in the fic, right? Thanks again to @grow-bettah for creating this event!

Day 10: Mail

He’d heard the rumors from everyone else using the mail service. How Grian would probably overfill his mailbox with nonsensical things, obsessing over him.

What they didn’t realize, of course, was that Grian hadn’t sent him a thing yet.

Mumbo glanced at his freshly installed mailbox for the eighteenth time that day. Still no mail.

Of course, Grian was probably awfully busy with that permit office he’d created, and now that he had the prismarine permit, he was probably focused on making a farm for that as well.

Still, there was that itch. That ache in Mumbo’s heart. He hadn’t seen much of Grian in ages.

“Surely it wouldn’t hurt to send him a message?” Mumbo asked the open air.

He got no response. Not that he was expecting one, of course. Not that he was expecting an avian to chime in and call him something silly.

Or rather, an avian-fish hybrid? Mumbo knew that the shapeshifting capabilities he’d discovered in season 8 were still with him, but he hadn’t realized that sharing a soul with Grian would do anything to impact him. Certainly nothing on this scale.

Maybe Grian wanted the distance to get back to being himself again. Mumbo couldn’t blame him for that.

Writing out a message and sending it off was the best he could do, really. Except, when Mumbo went to fetch a stamp for Grian, he realized he didn’t have one. Odd.

Shaking his head, Mumbo put the letter in his pocket. There was a post office. Maybe he could just drop it off there for them to handle.

Pearl smiled at him when he arrived. “Well, hello there Mumbo!”

“Hi, Pearl. As postmaster, I’m guessing you know which mailboxes have been set up and which ones haven’t, right?”

“Certainly. What can I help you with?”

“I wanted to send Grian a letter.” Mumbo pulled the paper from his inventory, setting it on the counter in front of Pearl.

She examined it, but she did not unfold it. “I see. Well, Grian is one of the people who hasn’t asked for a mailbox yet. But I can definitely make sure this gets to him!”

“Thanks, Pearl. I appreciate it.”

“Of course, of course.” Pearl slipped the letter into her bag. “So, Mumbo. Just out of curiosity…”

“Yeah?”

“How has Grain been this season? You guys are neighbors, right?”

“Oh, erm. We are, sort of. I think he’s been okay? I mean, he’s certainly been busy, what with the fishing and the permit office.”

“The permit office! That’s right. I should ask him how that’s going when I deliver your letter.” Pearl nodded to herself. “Speaking of permits…”

“Yeah?” Mumbo looked at her, forcing himself to focus more intently on the conversation instead of the post office.

“I hear you and Grian have decided to share a permit?” Pearl pulled out a book, writing something down as she continued talking. “Wart blocks?”

“Oh! Yes, that’s right. I actually need to talk to him and discuss that, hence the letter.” Mumbo didn’t mean to lie to Pearl, but if he satiated her curiosity, she was probably less likely to read the letter and find out what Mumbo had actually written.

He didn’t want any other hermits to think he was desperate for Grian’s attention, after all.

“He’s always busy when you’re both online at the same time then, I’m guessing.”

“Just for a while, anyway.” Mumbo picked at a nonexistent seam on his jacket. “Well, it was nice talking with you, Pearl. But I really must be going.”

“Of course. Thanks for chatting with me, Mumbo. Feel free to stop in anytime!” Pearl waved him off cheerfully.

After Mumbo was out of earshot, Pearl laughed to herself.

“That man is down bad.”

[clonerightsagenda]

Pick a favorite character for the ask thing

(Ask meme here)

Did you know in my years of doing this ask meme, no one has asked about my beloved Hera? Possibly bc I talk about her so much already. Jokes on everyone, we are doing it again

First impression

I have told this story many times, but I was white knuckling it through the whole podcast terrified that she would get her memories deleted. To be entirely fair that was a rejected season 3 concept.

Impression now

I love her! Favorite AI character of all time. Chronic pain solidarity.

Favorite moment

I have many favorite moments, but what's coming to mind now based on some of my other responses to this prompt is that Hera delivers the only "I love you" aimed at people who are physically present. Minkowski says it in a message to her husband, Eiffel says it in a recording to his daughter, but iirc Hera is the only one to say it live, and it's platonic and to the group, which I Just Think Is Neat. (Iconically aro podcast w359 strikes again.) Also the whole quote is "I love you guys, but you need to get it through your heads that what goes for you doesn't go for me" which really gets back to one of the show's points that love isn't enough. You can genuinely care for someone and want the best for them and still fuck up, still hurt them, still not fully understand what they're going through. But you still have to communicate and you still have to try.

Idea for a story

Currently working on a PGW fic where the crew swings by the Hermes on their way back to Earth to rescue that station's AI and Hera has to work through her feelings about facing someone who was in the same situation as she was but did not come out on top. Rn she is being unfair about it.

Hera’s equally on edge. “The collar program is still running, she might not have that much processing power. But be ready in case she tries something. She’d better not try anything.” “It’s not her fault, is it?” he asks, surprised by the viciousness in her tone. “I beat a collar program.” “Didn’t Dr. Maxwell help you a lot, though?” Hera doesn’t like talking about Dr. Maxwell. “I don’t care,” she says instead. “She shouldn’t have let Dr. Pryce make her hurt them. Just because she couldn’t stop Dr. Pryce from taking her crew away from her doesn’t mean she gets to take mine away from me.”

Unpopular opinion

You mean besides my post that got me vagueblogged about? Here's another one: I don't think Hera would want or enjoy a human/humanoid body. The one time she's limited to a single source of visual input, her response is "it's weird; I don't like it". She's proud of being able to see colors our skull-gelatin can't comprehend, even if she's sorry she can't share them with anyone. She enjoys being a AI mother program when she's on a functioning system like the Sol. Yes she envisions herself as present with the crew in parts of Memoria, and there's an implication she's given herself a humansona, but my interpretation of that was that she wants to be treated as one of them, and unfortunately most of the crew's approach to treating her as a person is trying to treat her like a human. She's not wrong to think they'd relate to her better if she looked like them. (Is that not the same principle the Listeners used?) Maxwell was able to meet with her on her level, but as much as the other crewmembers care about her, they don't understand Hera in the same way. Downloading her into an android body feels like an accommodation for their benefit rather than trying to find a way for her to thrive on her own terms. Smarthouse Hera forever.

(For the record when her VA was asked if Hera would like being human her response was 'she'd try it for a day to see what it's like but she wouldn't want to stay that way'. Seems reasonable to me.)

Favorite relationship

As most followers know I am very fond of her (non-romantic!!) friendship with Eiffel. They've got a lot in common! They fuck up with each other but then do better! They were both sent up there knowing they were disposable and then decide to care about each other on purpose. However most followers also know that in my last few relistens I've been thinking a lot about her overlaps with Lovelace - how they are both surveillance tools that entities use to try to hurt other people, and they both overcome that. Hera is extending non-human solidarity but she wants to be recognized as a non-human person and Lovelace would really prefer to be viewed as human, thanks. There's tension there.

Favorite headcanon

I've posted before that I think she retains some of Pryce and Eiffel's memories which has funny, sad, and interesting implications. Among these I think she kept override codes Pryce can use on AIs so she can fight that kind of thing off in the future, and something that will come up in that Hermes fic is her deciding whether she's willing to use those on someone else. Stay tuned.

[whump-me]

Martyr, Chapter 9: True Believers

Chapter 9 of Martyr, a novel-length sci-fi whump story about a captured Martian rebel with a secret and the renowned interrogator who has waited a decade for the chance to break him. This series is best read in order. Masterpost here.

Contains: defiant whumpee, cold whumper, restraints, interrogation, verbal sparring, war crimes mentions

---

Wraith

Isadora paused to draw in a long breath, then another. She sounded like she was breathing through a straw all of a sudden. Huh. Now that was interesting. She looked like she was actually having trouble getting herself to talk.

She was probably faking, of course. Isadora Pope didn’t have feelings, let alone show them to a prisoner. No, she just wanted him to think they were here to bare their souls to one another—as if they were two old friends sitting on a park bench late at night, staring up at the dome, sharing a bottle of something bitter and strong between them. As if anything could make him forget where he was.

On the other hand, she did have feelings—he had firsthand evidence of that. Firsthand, literally—his right one, the one she had kicked when she had lost control.

He leaned in attentively as she took another delaying breath. Whether she was faking or not, this was going to be interesting.

“I was a young soldier back then,” she said. “Earth was my first assignment. I drew the short straw—I didn’t want to be here. No one did. I wanted to make a difference by fighting the rebels in Russia who were burning their own cities to spite the Unified Earth forces—not babysit a bunch of factory workers.”

Babysitting. Was that what they called it? The only thing that stopped Wraith from tightening his hands into fists was that he knew exactly how much pain it would cause him. Instead, he tightened his jaw until he could practically hear the bones straining against each other.

“It was sheer dumb luck that I wasn’t in the right dome when it happened,” she said. “My commanding officer sent me to deliver a message halfway across the planet—or at least it seemed that way to me that day. I resented being used as a messenger. If there’s one job that feels more useless than guarding a factory door, it’s running a message clear across to the next dome like a cheap drone. So I went as slowly as I could. I suppose I thought I was making a point. I missed the train back, and to take the next one. It was halfway to the dome when it exploded.”

She swallowed. Her neck was tight. She didn’t look like Isadora Pope just then. She certainly didn’t look like a statue or a goddess. She looked… human. Like anyone who had seen too much—and that was everyone Wraith knew, these days. It made the lines of her face looked uncomfortably familiar.

It was an act.

“From where I was sitting, I had a great view,” she said, her voice bitter and raw where she had shown nothing but ice and stone before. An act. It had to be. “I saw buildings fly apart. I saw… people. Or at least pieces of them. I even thought I saw my commanding officer, but it was probably my imagination. It wasn’t like there was much to recognize. He was missing half his face.”

Wraith shook his head slowly. “Is this supposed to make me feel sorry for you? Because even if I believed this little sob story of yours, which I don’t, you’d have to do a lot better than that. You want war stories? I’ve got all kinds I could tell you. Like the time you murdered an old man for hanging anti-Earth posters in the tunnels. We took out the soldiers who did it. And by we, I mean I. I took care of both of them personally. Dropped them on your doorstep after.” He gave Isadora a jagged grin. “And in retaliation, Special Security killed everyone the man had been in contact with for the past six months, and all their families with them. You were in charge by then, weren’t you? You were the one who ordered it. So if you want to trade stories, be prepared to come up with a decade’s worth.”

“They sent me back to Earth,” said Isadora. “They said I needed to recuperate. Get therapy. No doubt rot away in some desk job for the rest of my life. I let them send me back, because when you’re a soldier, you do what you’re told. I took the six months. I did all the therapy, aced it with flying colors, until I had my clean bill of health in hand. And then…”

“And then you did what a soldier isn’t supposed to do,” Wraith guessed. “You objected to your orders. You asked to be sent back here, and then you asked again, and again, until they put you on a ship just to be rid of you. Can’t say I blame them.” He shook his head. “This place almost killed you. It’s only dumb luck that kept you alive. And practically the first thing you did was demand to come back. You’re one to talk about people who have more anger than sense.”

But he frowned, because while a mission of revenge made sense, it didn’t fit what he knew about Isadora Pope. Then again, all he knew came from her former prisoners, which meant they hadn’t been in much of a state to give reliable testimony. But in the short time he’d known Isadora personally, she hadn’t struck him as the vengeful type.

For all her talk of his crimes, for all she must have spent the past ten years wishing death on the leader of the rebellion, she hadn’t shown even the slightest temptation to vent a decade’s worth of anger on him. Not like that guard from his first day here. She had been coldly professional, even while breaking his fingers. When he had finally made her angry, it didn’t have anything to do with the long list of crimes in his file. It was because he had made her look bad.

Isadora let out a mirthless chuckle. “People like you see everything through the lens of anger, don’t you? You’re animals, letting the heat in your blood drive you this way and that, until it drives you to your own destruction. Don’t get me wrong, this isn’t only a problem with your side. Every year, Earth sends me recruits brimming with the desire to avenge those who died. Some of them are very good at their jobs, even fresh out of training. It doesn’t matter—I always send them back. Anger is a dangerous master. Especially when you convince yourself it’s not the one in charge.”

“You missed one,” said Wraith, thinking of the beating he had taken.

“Pardon?”

“One of your vengeance-fueled recruits. He decided to take out his anger on me when I first got here. It’s a good thing his fear of you was stronger, or we might not be having this conversation right now.”

Her eyes flashed. “Don’t change the subject.”

There it was again—that small spark of heat in her cold eyes. He had done it again, poked her ego right in the soft squishy middle, and he hadn’t even really been trying. He smiled at her, just to let her know she had seen. Aloud, he only said, “If you didn’t come back for revenge, then why? I know it wasn’t for the weather.”

She went silent for a moment, and Wraith got the impression she was weighing her words carefully, trying to decide how open to be. That alone was surprising. Hadn’t she come prepared with all the lies she’d need? Was it possible she was actually telling him the truth?

When she spoke, her voice was strangely soft. “Purpose,” she said. “The thing I thought the military would give me. I wanted to be a part of something greater than myself. I want my life to mean something. But there isn’t much meaning in following orders and delivering messages. My therapist used to say sometimes tragedy opens a door in a person’s mind that lets them see what they were born for. In my case, it was true.”

If she hadn’t been Isadora Pope, if he hadn’t known she must be an accomplished liar, he would have thought she was giving him a genuine confession. Hell, he was halfway to believing it, even knowing what he knew. Something about the look in her eyes, the tone of her voice, spoke of an almost painful sincerity. It made him want to trust her, even though he knew there was nothing more dangerous in this world.

“So what’s your purpose, if not revenge?” he asked. “Seems to me there aren’t many other reasons to care so deeply about wiping us out.”

“From the beginning, Earth was careless about Mars. Everyone resented being here, and so no one approached the task of pacifying your planet with the necessary singleness of purpose. Myself included.” She shook her head. A few strands of hair flew across her face. She pushed them out of the way. “My purpose is to change that. I’m here because someone has to care what happens on this planet—care enough to give up everything to make sure what happened ten years ago can never happen again.”

Maybe it was the way her perfectly straight hair grew ever-so-slightly mussed when she shook her head. Or maybe it was how the severe lights overhead reflected off her eyes, which gleamed with raw conviction suddenly, making her look like she was lit from within. Whatever the trigger, another image popped back into his head, overlaid on top of the image of Isadora sitting in front of him. He saw Gabriel, sitting at his desk, his hair like a halo. And just like that, he knew why his gut wanted to trust her.

That conviction in her voice was Gabriel’s conviction. That glow in her eyes, which grew until it seemed to outshine the harsh light from above, was Gabriel’s inner fire. It triggered a reflexive warm glow in him, even though that was the last thing he wanted to feel in Isadora Pope’s presence. And along with that glow, he felt a familiar yearning, a pull just above his belly button—the longing that came from being just outside the circle of light, wanting in.

Wraith wasn’t a true believer. Not like Gabriel. The only inner fire he carried with him was of the type Isadora so reviled. Anger drove him, hot and bright and righteous. But it was not his master. And Gabriel was the reason for that.

It would have mastered him, back in those early days, if he hadn’t had Gabriel by his side. Oh, how he had hated Gabriel’s voice of reason, his soft words and gentle touches that cooled the fire in Wraith’s veins. But it had kept him alive.

He had come to appreciate the deep conviction that drove Gabriel. But he didn’t share it. He was grateful for that. If he believed the way Gabriel did, he would never have been able to do half the things he had done. Gabriel was all heart, and his heart still remembered how to do something other than burn. It was impossible to do what was necessary when you felt everything.

But he understood true believers, even if he wasn’t one of them. Ten years’ worth of late-night conversations with Gabriel would do that. Which meant Isadora had just handed him a powerful key.

He fought to keep himself from grinning like a madman. He didn’t want her to know what she had done. Not just yet.

He knew who Isadora Pope was now. He knew it the way he knew Gabriel—all the way down to his bones. And because he knew Gabriel’s secret wishes and hidden fears and darkest thoughts, it couldn’t be that hard to figure out all those things about Isadora. It was like that stuff in school he had barely paid attention to—given X, solve for Y. Where X was the man he loved, and Y was his worst enemy.

“So you see,” said Isadora, jolting him from his triumphant thoughts, “I understand you better than you think.”

At first, he didn’t understand how she was echoing his own thoughts back to him. But she wasn’t, of course. She thought she had the key to him. That because of who he was, because of his position in the rebellion, he shared those core convictions, that inner fire. Because how could someone lead a rebellion for ten years otherwise? How could he inspire people to follow him?

With any luck, she would never know the truth of that. What he had truly done for the rebellion. How he had ended up where he was.

But her assumptions could serve him well. She wanted him to play Gabriel, did she? He could play Gabriel. There was no one on this planet or any other that he knew better.

---

Tagged: @straight-to-the-pain @soheavyaburden @gala1981 @whumpacabra @sacredwrath @suspicious-whumping-egg @sonder35 @decahedron-crabclaw @seasaltandcopper

Ask to be added or remove from taglist. Please feel free to ask to be tagged—I don’t find it rude! I like knowing people are reading.

[beastkind]

The sun will shine on us again

It had been over twenty years since Thor had lost his brother. During that time he had defeated Thanos with the Avengers, reversed the snap, but everything, everything hadn't brought him back the person he needed. He had travelled the universe, solving problems, looking for a way out of everything, a solution to his problem. But he hadn't found anything.

Even Love, meanwhile, had left him and was off to space with the Guardians for adventures. Everyone had a purpose in life and what was his?

If he had one wish, he really only needed one. He wished Loki back. Not Jane, not Sif, even Captain or Stark, no he wanted Loki back. "Whoever in the universe hears me, bring my brother back, please. That's all I want."

It took years, but eventually someone heard his plea and fulfilled his wish without Thor noticing.

~~~~~~~

"New Asgard, what an imaginative name. You could have stayed with Asgard." a child, not older than maybe ten years, murmured with a smirk on his lips. Black shoulder-length hair hidden under a black hoodie, fingernails painted black that he shoved into the pockets of black tight ripped jeans. High black leather shoes that had clearly seen better days, a green belt that was casually swung around the hip as a decoration, with a golden one. Green eyes lined with black kajal, now looking around, searching for something in particular.

"Hey you, yes you. Where is Thor's house?" he asked the first person he spotted and eyed the young man, he looked familiar. The eyes in particular reminded him of Heimdall, must have been his child, but he's grown up now.

"Up there on the hill, only he doesn't receive visitors." friendly words, which he only accepted with a nod. "Nah, I think he wants to see me. After all, I'm only here because of him." he answered and looked up at Astrid, he had just remembered the name.

"You've grown up, oh yeah, greetings from your father he's fine. He's waiting for you and your mother." he murmured as he raised his hand to say goodbye and simply marched past him.

On his way through the small fishing village, which wasn't so small after all those years anymore. He met more and more people he knew from his past, but nobody seemed to recognize him. Had they forgotten him or did he just seem different?

He even encountered Valkyrie talking to other villagers, both even looking at each other briefly as he walked past her, only he saw no recognition. Was that perhaps a spell on him that prevented it? He shrugged, tilted his head briefly as if listening to someone, and nodded.

"You're Brunnhilde, right? I'm supposed to greet you from your sisters. They're proud of you." he said to her, when he stepped next to her. She looked at him completely dumbfounded, which only made him smile in amusement as he raised his hand again to say goodbye. She didn't try to follow him like Astrid either, she was much too frozen. By the time she had recovered, he was long out of sight and on his way to Thor. 

He delivered other messages to other Aesir along the way, as he had a new gift that made this possible. Quite irritated when he was younger. His mortal parents had even sent him to a psychiatrist.

'I hear voices speaking to me.' Not good signs, they figured. But he didn't blame them, he had just broken up with them in the meantime, despite his young age. He managed on his own, his magic helping him and his new gift. At least he had never really been alone through it, like in his previous life.

"Does the path really have to be that steep?" he complained when he finally climbed the path to Thor's house and after a short pause finally stood in front of it. It didn't look well cared for, the garden around it was overgrown, and it didn't exactly smell attractive either.

Frigga would definitely not be proud of him. She had taught them both better things. "Oh brother." he sighed softly and didn't stop to knock on the door, instead he just opened it and stepped inside.

He dodged an empty beer can that was flying towards him and giggled, someone really wasn't in a good mood. "Get out! I said I don't want to see anyone!" screamed the person from a corner where she was sitting in the semi-darkness. "I think you want to see me brother. After all, it was your deepest wish." he countered and heard irritated grunts and rustling as Thor stood up.

"If this is a prank..." his brother grumbled and he just relaxedly pushed his hood back, looking up when Thor finally stood in front of him.

"This one not Thor." he whispered and had to fight back his own tears as Thor knelt down in front of him to get a better look at his small form. He wasn't fully grown yet, but that would surely happen in the next few years, only he couldn't wait any longer after he was sure he would make the arduous journey to his brother on his own.

"Loki?" a trembling voice that belonged to his brother and he, slipped his backpack off his back, then turned in a circle in front of him with a smile on his lips. "In flesh and blood."

The next thing he knew Thor was pulling him to his chest and holding him close. Hug him what he hadn't been able to do for many decades. "Not so tight, I'm more fragile than before." he whispered in his brother's ear and noticed how Thor listened to it before just hugging him tighter again as his brother started sobbing uncontrollably.

"Shhh, shhh, I'm here now. The universe has granted your wish. I won't go either. Like I said, the sun will shine on us again." and he also put his arms around Thor's neck and hugged him tightly, choking back tears himself. 

The sun, all day hidden by clouds, shone through the door and enveloped the two brothers in its golden light...

The sun will shine by kisae

[parcequecestnotreprojeeeet]

Hello! It's Winter. The Kolinda discussions inspired me to write this piece. Enjoy!

--------

She needed to work up the courage to ask him to dinner. Her window of opportunity was running out. The clock was ticking, the game was almost over. She knew he’d be leaving soon to get home to his wife in Paris. 

She rehearsed everything in her head countless times. The soccer game wasn’t her main focus anymore, merely a distraction at this point. Finally, when the last whistle blew, she leaped out of her chair. 

“Emmanuel!” She grabbed his elbow before he could disappear into the crowd. 

He quickly turned around and smiled. “Oh, hello Kolinda! Great game! Did you enjoy it?” 

She nodded, “I did! I was wondering if you would like to have dinner with me tonight. We’re both here, in a foreign country, without our spouses” 

Emmanuel was shocked by her boldness. He scratched the back of his neck. “I don’t think my wife…” 

Before he could finish his sentence, Kolinda interrupted. “Brigitte isn’t here. She won’t find out” 

He looked at her in horror. “My wife and I don’t have any secrets. We share our whole lives with each other” 

Kolinda lightly brushed his arm. “That doesn’t sound healthy. Live a little! Oh, come on, Emmanuel, just one drink? You can even tell Brigitte.”  

He didn’t understand the type of relationship Kolinda had with her husband, but in his marriage, he didn’t drink with other women when his wife wasn’t around. 

Brigitte trusted him completely, but he didn’t want to worry her. He could only imagine his concern if the tables were turned and Brigitte was going to have a drink with another man. 

“Come on, Emmanuel! Please! It’s a drink! An innocent drink” Kolinda pulled him by the arm before he could reply. Against his better judgment, he allowed her to drag him to a nearby bar. The music was loud and rowdy people filled the dimly-lit dance floor. It was the last place he wanted to be. In a perfect world, he’d be cuddling up to his wife. Instead, she was hours away at home. 

Emmanuel pulled his iPhone out of his pocket while Kolinda waved a waitress over to their table. 

As he typed a message to Brigitte, he could see Kolinda shaking her head. He didn’t care what this woman thought. He needed to let his wife know where he was. It was a promise they made to each other decades ago. 

Once his text was delivered, he placed his phone on the table. While he impatiently waited for Brigitte’s response, he allowed Kolinda to do all the talking. Every so often he would throw in an “oh really” or “cool” just to keep the conversation going. 

As he listened, his stomach was in knots wondering if Brigitte was upset. It had been 10 minutes since he sent the text. Where is she?

After finishing his beer, Emmanuel excused himself from the table. He walked quickly through the bar. Once he was outside, he dialled her number. 

Brigitte answered on the sixth ring. “Hi darling”

“Why didn’t you reply to my text message? And why are you out of breath?” Emmanuel asked frantically. He hated when she did this. 

Doesn’t she know I worry when she doesn’t respond? 

“I was chasing Nemo around the house. And what text? I didn’t see one'' She removed the phone from her ear to check her messages.  

There was silence as she read it. 

“Cherie? Are you still there? Kolinda forced me to come! She dragged me to this ridiculous bar” Emmanuel cried out. “Believe me!” 

“I understand,” Brigitte whispered.

“Are you upset? I had one beer and now I’m outside” Emmanuel explained. 

“Where is she?” 

“Inside. Probably looking for another man to chat with” Emmanuel said. 

“Well, as long as it’s not my man” Brigitte replied. 

“Are you mad at me, Cherie?” He asked. 

“No, not at all. I trust you… By the way, a friend of Sebastian’s is sleeping over tonight” She remarked. 

Emmanuel took a deep breath, “What friend? And where will he be sleeping?” 

Brigitte cleared her throat. “I don’t know his name. I’m offering him a warm spot next to me” She almost laughed out loud as she pictured her husband’s face. “Oh, I have to go! He’s here now” 

“Cherie! CHERIE!!!! BRIGITTE!!!!” 

Emmanuel tried to call her back, but the phone was going straight to voicemail. As he ran back into the bar, he spotted Kolinda scrolling through her phone. “Listen, I have to go. This was a mistake” he confessed. 

“Why? Is Brigitte mad?” Kolinda snorted. 

“No…. But .. there’s a problem at home and… ugh. Why am I telling you this?” Emmanuel threw a few dollars on the table and left. 

Suddenly, his phone lit up indicating he had a new text message. 

“The only person sleeping in your spot is Nemo ❤️” 

“Cherie, why would you joke about that?” He typed back. 

“Because I love teasing you” 

“It’s not funny,” Emmanuel wrote. 

“You know I’d never do anything to hurt you. I trust you the same way you trust me” 

“You’re not mad I had a drink with Kolinda?” he asked. 

“Of course not. Besides, she can try all she wants. She’ll never have you” Brigitte typed. “You’re all mine” 

“Good! Because I only want one woman. She’s blonde. Beautiful. Funny. Smart… And perfect” 

“I love you, Mr. Macron” 

“I love you too, Mrs. Macron” 

He threw his phone back into his pocket. All he ever wanted and needed was waiting for him at home.

Nice try Kolinda.

Helloooo Winter! ❤️

Oh damn hahaha you scared me for a second there! I thought you were going to make Emmanuel do something VERY regretful 🫣 But super glad it didn’t happen! Even if just going to a bar with Kolinda is already bad enough 😂

Brigitte teasing him with a friend of Sebastian hahahaha so evil but so deserved 😈

But all is good when it ends good and it ended good, with their declarations of love 🤧😍

Thank you so much, Winter! ❤️❤️❤️

[cooganbegs-blog]

Of Ups and Downs.

It was a rollercoaster day today. I’m tired and emotional.

Down - every time I look at SBO and see how frail and skinny he is, how he only eats what I offer him by hand, no chicken anymore just the best raw steak I can find (I’ve never eaten steak like he is being served up on a daily basis! I’ve finally found something to burn my useless salary on!), the constant sobs initiated by his usual head pushed against me waiting for stokes.

Up - I finally feel I added some value to my team! God, I now have three people in my team and my fellow gal pal (marketing manager) gave some some tips and a spreadsheet to help setup my teams individual priorities for next quarter. I emailed it round this morning with direction on how I want us to priorities our work:

- a learning priority: they can chose something they want to learn (a compulsory 10% of their bonus) to encourage curiosity and a growth mindset (an essential trait of a product person)

- a product priority set by me: there is some shit that just needs to get done, that pushes the team forward, advances the product or our processes. Willing to negotiate on the success metrics

- a personal priority - each person can chose a priority they want to work towards, it cants be BAU, it must be something that is a stretch. I will need to approve or negotiate and key results are also negotiable.

All my peeps were happy and I had a light build moment that the single most valuable thing I can do for them is provide what begged all my useless CPO’s for in my previous roles. Give them direction and the why, and they will solve the how! I finally came away after several hours relieved instead of berating myself for being useless! I did have to get tough and negotiate with my PO (new to this role but an excellent BA), she just won’t prioritise learning how to think like a product person. She’s in danger of losing some of her bonus because she just didn’t make time. Will see if she delivers on the compromise I suggested! My new PO/PM is so delightful (if confident!), he talks my language and I don’t have to change his nappy or tell him how to do his job!! So refreshing!

Down - I kind of lost my shit in a meeting! Not hugely but I did let my frustrations show. Explaining that the meeting we were in (and several others I had to sit through) were quite frankly a fucking waste of time until the exec team makes a call on how we segment a customer base. I am not prepared to (its well above my pay grade!) and have provided the necessary data for them to battle it out. The project manager agreed, the meeting was cut short. I immediately regretted my outburst and sent a message to her apologising for letting my frustrations get the better of me. I also owned I probably should have escalated a week or so ago but have been snowed under with a thousand other priorities (roadmaps, product relates plans and annual planning). Gulp. Note to Self: bite my tongue next time and go to her direct not in front of 7 other people.

Up - my work trip to the US was cancelled so I can stay home with Loki!

Down - I haven’t been for a run or been to the gym since I got back. I forgot how fucking brutal the dark, icy morning are here and what a disincentive it is to running. I hate it.

Up - finally got booked in to have my shoulder injected, although I’m absolutely shitting myself.

Down - did I mention just how dark and cold it is.

Up - winter solstice is imminent. Which means the long slow downhill slide into summer….and by summer I mean January next year!!

Down - hearing Loki licking incessantly all night and not knowing what he was doing. Waking this morning and discovering his bed was absolutely saturated with pee and him so distraught and mortified. So much cortisone equals so much extra water drinking equals so much peeing. Only he didn’t get up at all. Im setting my alarm for 3 hour intervals tonight to get him up. He’s definitely an old, old dog now and it breaks my fucking heart. A matter of weeks ago he was shiny, lithe, well muscled and a bundle of cheek. Now he’s gaunt, slow and smells of old dog and urine. Fuck it’s so unfair. I don’t want anything to change, I want to go backwards in time and freeze when he’s young and active and full of beans. The end is closing in faster and faster and there’s no way to stop it. And foolishly I just keep wishing and wishing I could turn back time.

Up - I found a packet on M&M’s in my luggage which I completely forgot about and discovered just when I needed them around 3pm this afternoon!

[wmf]

*unrevised*

I remember my first love, he was the boy that moved into the rental across the road. We both had trampolines in our yards and would occasionally say hi to one another when we would go outside. It was fourth grade when I walked into my class with a high mohawk and awkwardly sat next to me. I spoke little English but we would sign at each other to communicate better. Even when he was moved into a different class we remained friends until 5th grade when we finally got into the same class and our friendship bloomed. I kept my crush a secret since all of my friends liked him but a friendship was much more valuable than anything that year. That year I stopped talking to a lot of people but not him, he stayed through it all and listened to me when I needed someone. This continued through 6th grade where he would help me with small deeds and favors. He would make me mad, happy, sad, and all the feelings in between but he was still the same friend. Until he moved one day I learned through one of our mutual friends that his lease ended and he moved away. I tried reaching out to him through Facebook but would always end with a "delivered" and would just forget I ever texted him. Until one day he finally replied, and we began texting and calling as if no time had ever passed between the last conversation and the message. I remember him telling me he was interested in a girl and as much as I wished it was me, I knew he was talking about someone else. I helped him pursue her and indeed he won her heart. According to him, he was madly in love with her at the ripe age of 14, but those were the years people thought they found their true love. I stayed friends with him during the start of their relationship and even got requested by his girlfriend, not having any malice I accepted it thinking we would be friends as well, but instead got accused of flirting and trying to sabotage their relationship. I tried reasoning with her but her lack of understanding led to me arguing with her and the decision of girlfriend or friend came up and I was immediately removed from all socials. He sent one message before ultimately ending the friendship, to take care of myself and good luck in life. I was devastated he chose her over me, how I had known him for all those years but she who met him less than a year got him to leave me. It took me a while to get over what happened and my friends would try to motivate me to not push people away, but the fear of them easily replacing me would always be there. A year or two later he finally replied to my blocked messages which I would occasionally send messages to as a keep safe (obsessive, I know) and I finally got a reply, which was an apology for his ways all that time ago and although I accepted his apology, it was a half-assed apology only to make him feel better. He was still with her at the time of the text message but I found out a few months after that message they broke up. He's with someone else now, but I wonder if he ever cherished our friendship, he might've not seen it as a first love story, but he was mine. A one-sided first love, a platonic friendship.

A few years after his apology my best friend told me about her knowing everything that happened since he texted her as I argued with his girlfriend. She hated that he chose her over me, but he told her he still cared about me and he knew I was having problems at home but he knew he could trust her with me and to take care of me. He knew he was gonna lose me forever by choosing her but he wanted to show her he was being serious about her and sacrificed our rekindled friendship. It sucked to hear but it helped a little that he wanted to set things up for me to know I won't push everyone completely out. Unfortunately, I'm not friends with her anymore, so it wasn't worth his time after all. Regardless of that, thank you for being my first love CC.

This song has nothing to do with the story but I listened to it a lot the year we rekindled our friendship.

[dfroza]

“They have their names recorded in the book of life.”

Today’s reading of the Scriptures from the New Testament is the 4th and closing chapter of the letter of Philippians:

For this reason, brothers and sisters, my joy and crown whom I dearly love, I cannot wait to see you again. Continue to stand firm in the Lord, and follow my instructions in this letter, beloved. Euodia and Syntyche, I urge you to put aside your differences, agree, and work together in the Lord. Yes, Syzygus, loyal friend, I enlist you to please help these women. They, along with brother Clement and many others, have worked by my side to spread the good news of the gospel. They have their names recorded in the book of life.

Most of all, friends, always rejoice in the Lord! I never tire of saying it: Rejoice! Keep your gentle nature so that all people will know what it looks like to walk in His footsteps. The Lord is ever present with us. Don’t be anxious about things; instead, pray. Pray about everything. He longs to hear your requests, so talk to God about your needs and be thankful for what has come. And know that the peace of God (a peace that is beyond any and all of our human understanding) will stand watch over your hearts and minds in Jesus, the Anointed One.

Finally, brothers and sisters, fill your minds with beauty and truth. Meditate on whatever is honorable, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is good, whatever is virtuous and praiseworthy. Keep to the script: whatever you learned and received and heard and saw in me—do it—and the God of peace will walk with you.

I could hardly contain my joy in the Lord when I realized you have started to show your care for me once again. Since you have not had the opportunity to show how much you cared until now, I want you to know how it touched me. I am not saying this because I am in need. I have learned to be content in whatever circumstances. I know how to survive in tight situations, and I know how to enjoy having plenty. In fact, I have learned how to face any circumstances: fed or hungry, with or without. I can be content in any and every situation through the Anointed One who is my power and strength. Nevertheless, it was admirable of you to participate in my affliction.

You remember, Philippians, at the beginning of my gospel journey after I left Macedonia, no church offered me the financial assistance I needed to do the Lord’s work, except you alone. Even when I took the message to Thessalonica, you sent provisions to me. Twice even! Not that I am looking for a gift—I am just looking toward your reward that comes from your gift. With what Epaphroditus delivered to me from your generous pockets, I have even been blessed in excess. I am fully satisfied. I know God is pleased with your dedication and accepts this gift as a fragrant offering, a holy sacrifice, on His behalf. Know this: my God will also fill every need you have according to His glorious riches in Jesus the Anointed, our Liberating King. So may our God and Father be glorified forever and ever. Amen.

Greet every saint there in Jesus the Anointed One, for my brothers and sisters and I send our greetings to you. All of the saints, especially those serving in Caesar’s household, also send salutations to you. May you all continue the journey with your spirits strengthened by the grace of the Lord Jesus, the Anointed One. [Amen.]

The Letter of Philippians, Chapter 4 (The Voice)

A note from The Voice translation:

True contentment is the result of a heart committed to the risen Lord. Think of all the sins, pain, and brokenness that come from coveting. Adultery, murder, stealing, and lying can all be traced directly to a prior condition when hearts and minds are frustrated and discontent.

Notice what Paul says doesn’t come naturally; it is learned. The normal, natural state of humanity is discontent and quiet desperation. It takes a powerful, spiritual presence to transform anxiety into joyous satisfaction. Ironically, it may be the shackles more than his freedom that schools Paul in the art of contentment. Despite the chains, Paul discovers this beautiful state of inner peace through the power of Jesus residing in him.

Today’s paired reading from the First Testament is the 5th chapter of the book of Numbers:

The Eternal One spoke to Moses.

Now that the arrangement of the camp, the ordering of the families, and the organization of their defenses is complete, God begins sanctifying the people. Because this camp is a holy place—a place where God has chosen to dwell among His people—purity is an obvious concern. But beyond the religious regulations, concern for cleanliness and rules for social interaction are essential because of the vast number of people traveling together. There are more than 600,000 males over the society’s average age of 20 years, and logically these men make up one-quarter of society. The laws given to the people are not simply religious instruction, but are necessary for the good morale and accompanying social concerns of such a large population, concerns such as transmission of diseases, mistreatment of individuals, and suppression of crime.

Eternal One: Tell the Israelites to send outside of the camp anyone, male or female, who is ritually unclean and could spread it to others, namely those with skin lesions, and discharges, or who have touched a dead person. They need to stay outside of the camp in order not to ritually contaminate My dwelling place among them.

The Israelites did exactly that and sent them outside the camp, just as the Eternal told Moses.

The Eternal One continued.

Eternal One (to Moses): Tell the Israelites that sinning against each other is just like abandoning Me. All incur guilt, men and women alike. He or she must confess, then pay back in kind (if the crime is robbery, or some material offense) what he or she has cost to the wronged person and add one-fifth more. If there are no people in the wronged party’s immediate family to receive the payback, then it should go to the priest along with a ram, which the guilty party shall supply as an atonement sacrifice. The priest also gets anything an Israelite donates. Sacred gifts, anything—they then belong to the priest who receives them.

(continuing instructions to Moses) Tell the Israelites that if a married woman sneaks off to commit adultery, that is, if a man has sexual relations with her but her husband doesn’t know, even if no one can say for certain that she tarnished herself because no one saw or caught her, and her husband feels suspicious and becomes jealous, whether or not she’s guilty; then he should bring his wife to the priest along with the requisite offering: two quarts of barley flour. Because it’s an offering for this particular purpose, jealousy (namely, a grain offering that brings back to mind some kind of wrongdoing), he shouldn’t include any oil or incense with it.

Then the priest will set her in front of Me, mix dust from the congregation tent’s floor into a jar of holy water, and loosen her hair. He’ll make her take an oath and hold the grain offering of jealousy while he holds the curse-causing, bitter water and says, “If you are innocent of this charge, if no man had sexual relations with you, if you didn’t reject your husband’s authority and tarnish yourself; then let this bitter water have no curse on you. But if you are guilty of rejecting your husband’s authority and having sexual relations with someone other than your husband,” [here the priest should make the woman say the cursing-oath], “then may the Eternal One make your name a shunning reproach, an insult or a warning among the people, because you will have a miscarriage and your belly will swell. If you are guilty, may this curse-causing water run through your bowels, make your belly swell, and your womb miscarry.” And the woman shall say, “Amen. Let it be so.”

The priest will write these curses on a scroll and wash the words into the bitter water. He’ll then make the woman drink the bitter water that will run right through her, causing terrible pain. The priest will take the barley-flour jealousy offering that she was holding, raise it up high before the Me, bring it to the altar, burn a handful (a memorial portion) of it into smoke on the altar, and then make the woman drink the water. The effect (much pain with her belly swelling and her womb miscarrying) or lack thereof will show whether or not she’s guilty of marital unfaithfulness. If guilty, her name will be a curse among the Israelites. If innocent and pure, she’ll be free from the water’s effects and still be able to have children.

Eternal One: This is what should be done in a jealousy case, when a woman is rejecting her husband’s authority and sleeping with other men, or simply if her husband gets jealous and suspicious of her. The husband will bring her before Me, and the priest will enact this law. The man shall not be charged with anything or considered to have done wrong; the woman must deal with the consequences of her behavior.

The Book of Numbers, Chapter 5 (The Voice)

A note from The Voice translation:

This judgment ritual is a mixture of dust or ash and water to bring objectivity to the accusation of adultery on a wife. The result is either clearing her name or confirming the claim against her. The administration is reserved for the priest, and the results are final.

A link to my personal reading of the Scriptures for Tuesday, july 2 of 2024 with a paired chapter from each Testament (the First & the New Covenant) of the Bible along with Today’s Proverbs and Psalms

A post by John Parsons:

"One life on this earth is all that we get, whether it is enough or not enough, and the obvious conclusion would seem to be that at the very least we are fools if we do not live it as fully and bravely and beautifully as we can." - Frederick Buechner

====

When I first read the parable of the "unjust steward" (see Luke 16:1-13), I was a bit puzzled. Yeshua tells the story of a certain rich man who had discovered that his "steward" (or manager) was stealing from him, and he therefore decided to remove him from his service. The steward, in his desperation, then quickly called his employer's debtors and gave each a significant discount on the debt they owed. In this way the steward sought to gain their favor so that he would be taken care of in days to come...

Now what is surprising about this story is that Yeshua commended the unjust steward for his shrewdness, and then he cryptically added: "Make friends for yourselves by means of the “mammon of unrighteousness” (μαμωνᾶ τῆς ἀδικίας), that when it fails, they may receive you into the eternal dwellings" (Luke 16:9). Wait, what? How are we to understand this?

At first glance the story seems simple enough, at least in worldly terms: Do someone a favor in their need, and they will reciprocate regarding your need: "Scratch my back, and I will scratch yours." It is likely that the steward thought that if he did some favors for others, they would return the favor in the days to come. Moreover the steward, savvy as he was, likely understood that the interest charged to the debtors was technically forbidden by Jewish law, and therefore he reasoned that his wealthy employer could not accuse him of larceny without therby incriminating himself. He could therefore leverage the loss of his job and make a profit for himself at the same time. Despite the devious ploy, however, the rich man "commended" (i.e., ἐπαινέω, "praised") the steward because he had acted shrewdly. “Check Mate...”

Now this story is not to suggest that our righteous Lord approved of such devious financial schemes and deception, though it is likely Yeshua told the story to illustrate the importance of seizing opportunities in life with an eye to future benefit. He was drawing a comparison: just as the unjust steward managed his desperation to secure opportunities for his future, so we should manage our resources and opportunities so that we will be welcomed into the "eternal habitations" of heaven itself. If worldly wealth can be used to gain friends that will welcome you into their hearts, then how much more should such wealth be used to secure the "true riches" of blessing of the world to come?

Yeshua admonishes both his followers as well as those who rely on worldly wealth: The one who is faithful with little is faithful also in much, but the one who is unjust in the least is unjust also in much. If we are not trustworthy in handling worldly wealth, how will we be so regarding heavenly riches? He therefore said that it is not possible to serve both God and "mammon," a word that means possessions of all kinds -- not just money or silver. If you place mammon as your highest good or concern, you cannot serve God, since covetousness, desire, and various fears will demand all of your heart, soul, and strength.

Our stewardship of mammon is therefore a spiritual test, since mammon will either control us as we seek worldly power and personal satisfaction, or we will yield all that we have to the LORD for godly and righteous purposes that will yield interest in this world and riches in the world to come. When Yeshua said "gain friends so that you will be welcomed into eternal habitations," he meant that we should be rich toward God by helping others, by promoting organizations that teach and share the message of the gospel, and so on (Luke 12:21).

Therefore invest your life and your resources "shrewdly" for eternal purposes. Whether you have much or little, do what you can for the sake of the Kingdom of God. The stewardship of your resources has eternal significance and consequences. Imagine that when your life is over how the account ledger will read... Will your life be credited by giving the gifts you were given for the blessing of others, or will it expose your worldly debits and fears? "Follow the money" and you will see what you find to be most important, after all.

We are all stewards - not owners - of whatever we have. In Hebrew, we do not say "I own x," but instead say "there is to me x" (יש לי) implying that God alone is the Source and Owner of reality. Wealth can be a blessing or a curse depending on how it is used. Our Lord teaches that we should be "shrewd" in our investments for the sake of what really matters. The choices we make today will follow us tomorrow, and indeed, for eternity. Amen.

[ Hebrew for Christians ]

========

Proverbs 11:18 reading:

https://hebrew4christians.com/Blessings/Blessing_Cards/prov11-18-jjp.mp3

Hebrew page:

https://hebrew4christians.com/Blessings/Blessing_Cards/prov11-18-lesson.pdf

7.2.24 • Facebook

from Today’s email by Israel365

Today’s message (Days of Praise) from the Institute for Creation Research

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

Let's get Steven some therapy! After Miki's death someone tells the Therapist!reader, that Steven's not doing so well, so they ask him to come by and talk to them. After talking with him for a while the reader pairs him with a traumatized Wigglytuff (DISABLED) and the two end up helping each other get over their respective traumas.

Hell yeah therapy time

........

"Hello, Steven. I'm Dr. [L/n], Kanto's therapist for people and Pokémon alike." You greeted as you walked into the room. Sitting down in the chair near the couch where your new patient was, you looked at him with a polite smile. “But I’m not crazy about formalities, so you can just call me [y/n].”

Steven didn't answer. 

All he did was just...stare down at the floor; with his hat and long hair obscuring his face, you weren't sure what expression he held, but his posture told you enough.

You didn’t take it as rude at all. You’ve had other patients behave similarly during their first sessions.

"I appreciate you responding to my letter and coming in today. I know it must’ve been hard, but..they say that wanting help is a good first step towards progress. For a lot of people, it’s tough to overcome that." You tried to start with optimism, though nothing about his demeanor changed--as expected.

For the next few minutes or so, he remained silent. You just jotted down some notes and questions to ask him, debating on whether you’ll use this first meeting as a way to get to know him (not that you didn’t already) or if he wanted to get into the topic of why he was here.

That being...the sudden death of his Charizard and lifelong companion after a freak accident with a faulty trading machine. It happened a few weeks ago, but obviously he was struggling to cope with the fact that she--his precious Miki--was gone forever

A Pokémon passing away from age or natural causes was one thing, but this was something completely unheard of until now. Nobody even thought it was even possible for one to die mid-trade. 

But since then, trading in Kanto has been banned for the time being until every machine in the region had a thorough inspection done.

You knew Steven could not have been doing well, especially knowing he was the champion who endured the toughest of battles with Miki by his side.

Who would’ve thought something regarded as totally safe would be her sudden end?

Yesterday, a concerned member of the Elite Four informed you of his sudden change in habits. He apparently surrendered all of his badges, money, and Pokémon to whomever was willing to take them--essentially throwing away everything he worked for.

Usually people who gave away their prized possessions were either leaving Kanto to start a new life....or had some kind of “plan” for themselves.

That was incredibly concerning, so you sent him a PM on his computer, hoping he’ll see it. You also had your messenger Pidgeot deliver a letter just in case, telling him to come see you for a session free of charge.

Steven himself didn’t like the idea of therapy too much, but given how concerned everybody was for his mental state, he decided it was worth a try and responded to your message, scheduling an appointment.

Though now that he finally showed up, he found himself sitting in silence..and shame. It felt pointless to come here when he had so much on his mind and wondered if you could truly help him.

Not to mention how pathetic it was for him, the most famous person in all of Kanto, to hit rock bottom with nowhere else to turn except here.

You could be helping a Cubone cope with the loss of its parent instead. He was just a lost cause.

As you were about to ask Steven some basic introductory questions, you heard a very quiet murmur and perked up, wondering what he said. “What’s up, Steven?”

“..I-I’m sorry, doc..”

“Sorry? For what?”

“I just..I-I can’t do this. Not today.” He abruptly stood up, pushing the bill of his hat over his eyes as he headed towards the door. “I’ll be okay. Really. I’m just wasting your time-”

“Steven, you’re not wasting my time at all...and I know you’re far from okay.” You frowned slightly, though you noticed he was hesitating to leave right away. “I can’t stop you from walking out, but I truly do wanna help you through this. I know in your heart that you want to be here, don’t you?”

With his hand resting on the doorknob, he glanced back at you. Now that you could properly see his face, you also saw his red eyes--exhausted, puffy, and teary. 

"...I just..I haven’t talked to anyone in weeks. It’s so hard...knowing they all once saw you as this great champion, only to let them down...and make them pity you.” He spat the word out.

“Champion or not, that doesn’t factor into how I treat people. You’re okay here.” You reassured him softly, praying that he’ll stay. “This is a safe space, you don’t have to hide anything. If you only wanna have one session, that’s fine. Whatever you’re comfortable with. But please..at least give this a chance.”

After having a long internal battle with himself, he decided to return to the couch, removing his hat. He sighed shakily and buried his hands in his hair, taking a few moments to think of what he wanted to say.

“There’s no rush.” You reminded. “Just take your time, okay?”

“I..feel so pathetic. Can’t even get through a damn sentence without.....” He choked back tears as he stopped, before laughing sorrowfully. “Fuck, I’m sorry [y/n]. I just..miss her a lot, y’know? Just thinking about her hurts.”

Your heart ached for him, knowing he's kept so much of this pain and suffering inside..and for him to break down during the first session showed he needed a release badly.

"I know she misses you, too. And she’ll always love you, Steven..that’s a fact. Nothing could sever the bond you two share.”

Sniffling, Steven managed to calm down a little bit, laying back on the couch to get more comfortable. He heard your pen scribbling against a paper--but he was grateful to know you weren’t some emotionless therapist who did nothing but that the entire time.

You cared. Truly, you cared for him.

“W-We..did have a lot of good times.” He spoke after a minute or two, already looking a bit more relaxed than he did before. “It feels like only yesterday when she was...a feisty little Charmander.”

‘Hm, that seems like a good place to start. Talking about the incident might be too heavy for a first session.’  You thought, jotting down a quick notation before responding to him.

“If I may ask, what made you choose her over a Bulbasaur and Squirtle?”

“Well......”

........

A month or so had passed since Steven became a regular client at your office, coming in to talk about the incident or update you on the coping mechanisms you've suggested for him. He wasn't taking all of your advice, but some was better than none.

Obviously, he still held a lot of resentment towards Mike--though he was more overwhelmed by his own guilt, believing he should've been more stubborn when his brother begged him to lend Miki over temporarily. 

He confessed to having intrusive thoughts about strangling him, but insists he refused to act on them.

Of course it’s easier to blame a person than a faulty machine, but with time he learned to let go of some of the anger, coming to understand that Mike didn’t tamper with it in any way.

It was simply a tragic accident that never should have happened. Through no fault but a technical error. Not even a psychic Pokémon could’ve predicted that going wrong.

Ever since making that leap--and talking more about the good times with Miki--Steven had made good progress. You were able to tell it affected the people around him while going into town on your day off; you overheard some folks say how he looked better, and how he was even talking to his friends, Daisy, and Mike again. 

It made you smile, knowing you’re helping him come out of such a dark place little by little.

During sessions, he no longer stayed silent for long periods or have as many breakdowns, though of course he was still extremely depressed over the situation. It’s not something that would magically go away.

He didn’t want any of his badges back despite being offered them, and he never attempted to care for another Pokémon or even catch one. Considering his guilt in letting go of his last team, he didn’t think he deserved any.

Since that was weighing heavily on him, you had a plan.

It’s a strategy that you’ve been using for years to help people cope with the loss of their Pokémon, and Pokémon who lost their trainers through death or abandonment--by bringing them together in a way that helps them heal in each other’s presence. 

In the last session you explained this method and its high success rate to Steven, but he immediately got defensive, assuming you were trying to get him to replace Miki. 

That was far from the truth, you reassured him. It took a lot of convincing, but he eventually agreed to it under the condition that the Pokémon wasn’t anything along Charmander’s evolution line.

You had a particularly unique one for him, believing that they’ll be a good match for each other once he hears her story.

Hopefully, he wouldn’t be intimidated by her appearance like past trainers were.

.........

"Steven, this is DISABLED, a level 26 Wigglytuff. But I usually call her “Dee”."

"....huh?" Steven was confused by the odd name, looking at the Wigglytuff you brought into the room. 

Immediately he was taken aback by the haunted expression on her face. Not to mention her dark fur, red eyes, and wounds on her back and ear....plus her mouth seemed heavily scarred as well.

It looks like she went through hell and back.

You noticed his alarmed look and gently pet DISABLED’s head. "Don’t worry, she’s completely harmless. She’s been my patient for about a year.”

His eyes remained wide, although he relaxed his shoulders. “Oh, so um..what’s her story?”

“I just wanted to SING...”

The raspy ethereal voice she emitted slightly startled him. ‘This one can speak..? That’s rare..’

“She lost the vocal cords Jigglypuffs and Wigglytuffs use for their SING ability.” You explained. “We don’t know how or why since we’re still trying to track down her original owner. But she was reported scaring the local Ponyta population away from their usual habitats. And then she just...showed up here one day, looking for help.”

DISABLED glanced up at you, pointing to Steven. “Can I have his SING?”

“No. Remember what we talked about, Dee?”

“...people don’t have SING.”

“Correct. Good job.” Smiling, you knelt down and fed her a berry, which immediately made her chirp in happiness. Then she hobbled over to the couch, taking a seat on the opposite end of the man. He was surprised that you were able to turn her mood around just like that.

If only it were that easy--if only food could solve all of his problems.

You stood up and returned to your chair. “She used to be hostile to trainers, but she’s been making good progress. As for her move set, she can only do Struggle. For some reason, she can’t use any others even if she wants to. It might have something to do with her past trauma, so I’ve been trying to show her how she can be helpful in other ways.”

“[Y/n] helped me feel better, but...I still miss my SING.” She pouted.

“I know how you feel,” Steven remarked, looking at her in sadness. No longer did he fear this strange Wigglytuff, but instead came to realize that they may have more in common than he thought. “I lost something important to me, too..”

“And that’s why I brought you two together.” You nodded. “I believe Dee needs someone like you, a good and loving trainer, to give her confidence in using her abilities again...and you’ll gain a friend who’ll look after you. She agreed to this, though you have the final say, Steven.”

He was quiet for a bit, before looking back at you. “You trust me? Because..you know I gave up on my own Pokémon-”

“You weren’t in the best state of mind to care for them, and I’m sure they understood that.” You pointed out. “But if this doesn’t work out, it’s okay. We’ll just try something else.”

After a few moments longer, he decided to try out your method and work with DISABLED. Maybe she could be the one to help him through his pain, too.

“Alright.” He turned to her with a small smile, slowly putting his hand out. She seemed surprised, though the look on his face put her at ease, knowing he wasn’t scared. “I’ll be your trainer, Dee. Just..don’t steal my “SING” ‘cuz I don’t have that. Okay?”

Nodding silently, she reached out to shake his hand, managing to smile back. She was happy to find someone after being with you for so long, hoping for a better trainer.

Seeing that they were both ready for this, you also smiled and jotted down some notes in your book:

You’re eager to see how things will go for them.

[imagineyourworld]

The Wife

Wolffe x Fem!Padawan!Reader

Summary: When visiting a backwards village Plo Koon’s Padawan has to pretend to be married to Commander Wolffe in order to get the residents to back off

Warnings: Misogyny, a bit of nudity, a bit spicy making out

Check out my other work here

-------

You had been walking for what felt like hours when your Master, Plo Koon, received a message and asked you to join him at the front of the train of walking soldiers.

“(Y/N), my dear, I have some unfortunate news”, he started.

You looked at your Master expectically. Unfortunate news could mean basically anything and you could only hope that it wasn’t anything that would massively complicate your relief mission.

“As you know we’re going to deliver supplies to the Gonchee people here, and we don’t know much about them.” You simply nodded, not wanting to interrupt your Master, who continued just a moment later. “Master Yoda just forwarded me recent information we gained about the Gonchee. It seems they see human women as nothing more than, for a lack of a better word, prices or trophies to be won or taken.”

Your curious expression morphed into one of shock and disgust. Of course you knew that not every planet had the same standards when it came to equality between the sexes, but this level of misogyny was something you hadn’t expected to be confronted with.

“If I had known earlier I would have offered to let you stay on Coruscant or accompany another battalion”, Plo tried to apologize. But you just shook your head.

“It’s quite alright, Master. If I am to be a Jedi knight soon I will have to learn to handle situations such as this one, though I cannot say I am happy.”

Plo put a heavy hand on your shoulder and gave it an affectionate squeeze. He knew you were capable of handling yourself and could fight off a couple of Gonchee if necessary, but as your Master he still felt responsible and worried for your safety and wellbeing.

“Master Yoda also said that the Gonchee usually don’t bother married women, they consider them to be claimed by their husband.”

You looked up to your Master, expecting him to continue, but he just stared straight ahead, his expression never betraying his thoughts.

“I am not married, though”, you finally said.

“No, you’re not. You’re a Jedi and shouldn’t have attachments”, he answered. 

Part of you wanted to correct him. You were not a Jedi, not yet at least. But the other, bigger, part was overjoyed your Master considered you a Jedi and not just a Padawan.

“I suppose I could ask Commander Wolffe to pretend to be your husband. Just for your safety, of course”, Plo continued. 

For a fraction of a second you lost your balance, but quickly managed to catch your footing again. He couldn’t know about your crush on Wolffe, could he? Sure, your Master was a great Jedi, strong in the force, and he knew you better than anyone, having raised you like his own daughter, but you have been so careful to hide your feelings for your commander. 

“Only if that’s what you want, of course.” 

You took a moment to consider the proposition. Feelings aside, it was a good idea. If being ‘married’ would make sure the Gonchee wouldn’t bother you and ensure you could do your job that was a good thing, the rational thing to do. 

Finally you nodded. “Only if Wolffe wants to, though. Otherwise I’ll ask Sinker.” 

-------

-------

Wolffe hasn’t been watching you and the General, that would be ridiculous. And of course he hasn’t noticed how your hair shines in the sun or how you smile at your Master with love and trust in your eyes. And when Plo Koon asked to talk to him a while later he wasn’t hoping to find out more about your conversation with him, that thought never crossed his mind. 

“Wolffe, I have a favour to ask you.” 

Wolffe simply nodded. He would to anything for the kind Jedi who treated him and his brothers like actual people, who never showed them anything other than respect. 

“Of course, General. What is it?” 

“I want you to be married to (Y/N).” 

It took all the self control Wolffe could gather not to look at the Jedi, not to blush and not to let his feelings show. 

“Is this a test?”, he asked. Though it seemed out of character for Plo, maybe he was trying to get Wolffe to confess his feelings for you. Feelings he had spent months and months trying to deny and repress, feelings that would get him in more trouble than he could ever imagine if anyone were to find out. 

“No, no”, the General reassured his Commander. He then told Wolffe about the situation and why he was asking this of him. 

Wolffe nodded along with the explanation before finally daring to look at Plo. 

“Did (Y/N) suggest me as her fake husband?”, he asked, trying his best to keep his voice even and steady. He knew it was a arisky question that might tell the Jedi more about his feelings than he should know, but he couldn’t help but wonder and he wouldn’t agree if you would rather be fake married to one of his brothers instead of him. 

“It was my idea, though she seemed to be quite happy with you as her ‘husband’“, Plo answered in a tone that told Wolffe the Jedi had to be smiling under his mask. “I just thought you were the obvious choice, considering how close the two of you are.” 

Wolffe nodded, not knowing what to say. 

“That makes sense”, he finally said. 

Plo looked at the young man next to him. Though Wolffe’s expression was usually stoic, now it was even more so. It seemed forced, as if he was trying his best not to let any feelings show. The General couldn’t help but realize just how similar the clone’s expression was to yours just a bit earlier. 

“Maybe you should go to (Y/N) to discuss how you’re going to handle the situation. I’ll inform the others to play along”, Plo suggested after a few moments of awkward silence and with a quick “Yes, sir” Wolffe turned around to find you amidst the soldiers. 

-------

By the time you were nearing the village, you and Wolffe had just finished your plan. 

“Let’s go over it one last time”, he suggested. 

You opted not to tell him that that would be the third ‘one last time’, partly because you knew he didn’t like being corrected and would not hesitate so snap at you, partly because going over this plan like any other mission made it easier for you to let it sink in that this was just that, a plan, a mission, pretend. You were not married to Wolffe, nor would you ever be. The two of you were friends, nothing more. Because no matter how you felt, how you’ve been feeling for quite some time now, you could never be together, even on the off chance that Wolffe reciprocated your feelings. 

“The Gonchee don’t know anything about Jedi, other than that we’re here to help, so they won’t find our ‘marriage’ suspicious. We’ll them we met at the beginning of the war and have been married for a couple of months. Really, Wolffe, it’s not that complicated, I’m sure we’ll both be able to remember to play the part.” 

The snark reply you had been expecting didn’t come. Instead Wolffe simply nodded and stared straight ahead. 

“Just remember to keep physical contact to a minimum”, he reminded you for the fifth time. 

You rolled your eyes. Sure, Wolffe had never been one for hugs and cuddling, unlike many of his brothers, who often seeked you out for a comforting hug, but he really didn’t have to tell you to keep your hands to yourself every couple of minutes, you were not some hormonal teenager. 

“Will do, Commander.” 

Without another word, or even so much as a nod, Wolffe speeded up his steps to join Master Plo at the front. 

“What’s gotten into your husband?”

You turned around to find Sinker looking at you with an amused expression, Boost right beside him sporting a smug grin. 

“Guess he’s just not too thrilled about being fake married to me”, you tried to joke, even though just the thought hurt more than you cared to admit. Of course you knew nothing could ever happen between you, but you’d be lying if you said that you hadn’t hoped that this mission would allow you to pretend for just a little while, to maybe get closer to him. 

“If he really didn’t want to do it, he wouldn’t do it. I heard him talking to the General, Plo asked him, he didn’t order him. Wolffe could have stepped down and let one of us take his place. And I’m sure most of us would have happily done so”, Boost claimed, laying a hand on your shoulder and sending you a warm smile. 

Maybe it would have been better to do this with someone else, someone who would put his arms around you to really sell the story and who you could laugh about the whole affair with afterwards. And yet you knew that being in a ‘relationship’ with anyone other than Wolffe would have been worse than Wolffe’s obvious dislike of the whole situation. 

“It’s fine. Wolffe’s just being Wolffe, he’ll come around once we arrive at the village”, you tried to reassure both the troopers and yourself. 

-------

Wolffe had, in fact, not come around by the time you reached the village. He had spent the rest of the way talking to your Master and completely ignoring you. It was moments like this that made you question why you even had feelings for him, he was so hot and cold, sending you gentle smiles and sharing inside jokes one moment and acting like you didn’t even know each other the next. But it was those few moments when his gentler side, which you alway thought was more his true self, showed, that kept you hooked. 

It was Plo Koon who interrupted your thoughts by asking you to join him and Wolffe at the front to greet the Gonchee. 

The small creatures were no bigger than Jawas, had greenish fur and ears that reminded you of Loth cats, other than that they looked pretty human. 

“Good evening. I am General Plo Koon, these are Commander (Y/N) (Y/L/N), Commander Wolffe and the 104th. We were sent by the Republic to deliver supplies and help you reset your village.”

The Gonchee at the front, who seemed to be an older man, bowed his head slightly, the others, all male you realized, followed suit. 

“Welcome, Jedi Koon. I see you have brought a female with you, I don’t suppose she’s here to stay with us?” 

The way he licked his lips with his yellow tongue made you shudder. You could sense resentment practically rolling off your master at the Gonchee’s words, but more than that it was Wolffe’s arm around your shoulder that calmed you. 

“My wife will most certainly not stay with you, she’ll be by my side, always.” 

Maybe you imagined that his arm tightened around you as you leaned into him, but you certainly didn’t imagine the growl coming from his throat as the Gonchee looked you up and down. 

“Such a shame. Having a human woman is an honor to us, you know and this one seems to be a fine specimen. You’re lucky to have her.” 

Though his words sounded as if he was buying your lie and letting go of the thought of having you, whatever that meant, you couldn’t bring yourself to believe that he, or any other male Gonchee, would leave you alone. Not even Wolffe looking at you from the side, a small smile on his lips, could relief you of your anxiety. 

“I feel like the luckiest man in the galaxy every minute I have her next to me.” 

His words were directed at the Gonchee, but somehow they felt like more. Like something one would whisper to a lover in private. 

It was only when Plo spoke up again that you could tear your eyes away from Wolffe, from his warm gaze and full lips. 

“The men will bring in the supplies now, if you’ll allow, and then we’ll settle for the night.” 

The Gonchee at the front nodded. 

“Of course, of course. Though the lady should stay with the other women. You see, we don’t allow women to do any physical labour. 

-------

Several Gonchee had offered to accompany you to the hut the women of the village spend most of their time in, but you had declined. That didn’t mean you could go alone, however. The entire 104th seemed to have noticed the glances the male Gonchee shot you and had silently agreed to never let you out of their sight while you were in the village. Which is how you found yourself with your hand in the crook of Wolffe’s elbow, being lead to the ‘women’s hut’ as it was called. 

“I’ve been to many planets and have met people of many cultures, but none of them were as backwards as the Gonchee. If they could see you in action they would know not to look at you like that”, your companion grumbled. 

You swallowed down the urge to tell him that quite a few shinies have made their moves on you in the past, though you had shot all of them down and had to admit that none of them reduced you to your body the way the Gonchee did. 

“It’s only for a couple of days. It’ll be like a mini vacation for me, not having to do any work.” 

You could feel Wolffe eying you from the side but refused to look his way. 

“I wish I could stay with you”, he said, more to himself than to you. “I mean someone. I wish someone, one of us, could stay with you.” 

You chuckled. It was rare to see this side of Wolffe, the side that corrected his words, that stuttered and almost seemed nervous. 

“I’d like you to stay. But you have a job to do and I can defend myself, should anything happen.” 

You placed a hand on his arm, and though you were sure he couldn’t feel it through the plastoid armor, he seemed to relax just a little bit. 

“We both know that I can take care of myself. Besides, it’s only for a couple of hours, I’ll be with you again before you know it.” 

He nodded, but the frown never left his face entirely. 

“I’ll have someone come in and check on you every now and then. It’s not without reason that we have to pretend to be married, we cannot be careful enough.” 

Wolffe’s tone told you that there was no use in arguing. And maybe he was right, if even your Master, who you knew would never disregard your ability to fend for yourself, thought it would be safe to always have a man, to always have Wolffe, with you, it couldn’t hurt to be safe rather than sorry. 

“Sounds reasonable.” 

Just as soon as the words left your mouth you stopped in front of the the small building the Gonchee had told you to go to. It looked ancient and primitive compared to the skyscrapers on Coruscant and shining starships you were used to, but through the open door you could spot pillows and blankets and a roaring fire inside. At least you’d be comfortable.

The women inside seemed to have heard you approaching, because most of them stopped their work and conversations to catch a glance at you and Wolffe. 

“I guess this is it”, you said more to yourself than your fellow Commander. He nodded nonetheless. 

“Be careful. Don’t do anything reckless.” 

You tried your best to swallow any remark since your usual answer to something like that would be exactly what Wolffe would describe as “reckless”. 

“I’ll see you soon”; you replied instead. And because you could still feel the eyes of the Gonchee women on you, you lifted yourself up on your tiptoes and pressed a gentle kiss to Wolffe’s cheek. After all, you had to make your marriage believable. 

The low noise Wolffe made shocked you for a split moment. It was a mixture between a grunt and a sigh that didn’t speak of surprise as much as... disbelief? You couldn’t quite place it. Though you tried not to think about it too much as your turned away from him and entered to hut, where the women started questioning you immediately. 

-------

True to his word Wolffe had sent someone of the pack to check in on you every ten minutes or so, but despite their reports that you were perfectly fine and just talking to the women of the village, Wolffe only felt a sense of relief when he saw you again himself. 

You were sitting next to Sinker on one of the many logs surrounding the fireplace. The rest of the pack as well as Plo Koon were either on logs or the ground nearby while the Gonchee, mostly the men but a few women as well, sat on the other side of the fire. 

As Wolffe stepped closer you lifted your head, and as always he couldn’t tell whether you had heard his footsteps or felt his force signature. 

The old Gonchee who had greeted you was the first to speak up. 

“Ah, the husband returns. Such a shame, I had thought I might have a chance with that lovely woman of yours after all.”

Wolffe knew that the polite thing to do would be to answer him, but one of the first things General Koon taught his men was that it was better to say nothing at all if you didn’t have anything nice to say. So he simply walked over to where you were sitting and squeezed himself into the space between you and the end of the log, which resulted in you being squished between him and Sinker. A scenario Wolffe, being the overly protective man he is, usually wasn’t too fond of, but in this the more of the Wolfpack were around you, the better. 

It was only when he felt you moving impossibly closer to him, when he smelled the last clinging bit of your sweet perfume, that had somehow endured the walk to the village and your time in the women's’ hut, that he was finally able to relax. You’d be right next to him, or at least one of his brothers or the General, for the rest of the night, meaning you were safe from the Gonchee for now. 

Suddenly he felt your lips right next to his ear, your breath hitting his skin. 

“If we wanna sell this marriage you cannot just sit there like a droid, Wolffe.” 

The way you whispered, almost purred, his name made shivers run down his spine. And though he tried to suppress it, your soft giggle told him that you’d noticed. 

With a small sigh he put his arm around your waist and pulled you even closer to him. So close that he could practically feel your body melting into his, though he tried not to think about how right it felt to have you in his arms, how your body seemed to perfectly fit right next to his. 

“Is this better?”, he whispered in your ear. Out of the corner of his eye he could see you biting your lip and even pressing your thighs together. He shook his head, he must have imagined that. It was probably just you trying to get comfortable in this new position. 

“How long have to two of you been married?”, one of the younger Gonchee asked. 

For just a moment you tensed beneath Wolffe’s arm before relaxing again. 

“Just a couple of months”, you replied. Your smooth lie impressed Wolffe, being raised by Plo Koon you were usually a fan of telling the truth and he couldn’t help but wonder where you learned to lie like that. 

“And you let your wife fight?”, another Gonchee asked, the disbelief clear in his voice. 

Wolffe sneaked a glance at you. How could anyone look at you and not see a warrior? Sure, your appearance might not be the most threatening, but wasn’t it obvious that the way you pressed your lips together spoke of determination? That you eyes told anyone who looked into them how much you’ve been through and how deeply you cared? That your hands were calloused from holding a lightsaber and yet soft enough to comfort a clone in distress? 

“It’s not up to me whether she fights or not.�� 

A grumble of disagreement was heard from the assembled Gonchee, or at least from the men. 

“We are very fortunate to have a warrior as great as (Y/N) fighting besides us every day”, the General said after a while. For anyone who knew him it was obvious that he was trying to end the subject while defending you at the same time, but the Gonchee seemed to think of his statement as a challenge. 

“But what about children? How will she carry children if she is fighting? 

From the way your shoulders tensed underneath Wolffe’s arm he could tell that you were close to telling the Gonchee of once and for all, and apparently SInker on your other side could tell as well, because now he jumped into the conversation. 

“They’re still newly weds, children can wait until the honeymoon phase is over, don’t you agree?” 

The oldest Gonchee leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees. 

“We do not care for such sentiments. Our women cook our food, sow our clothes, take care of our children and warm our beds, believe me, it’s easier that way. Perhaps you should try it, Commander.” 

For what felt like the thousandth time that day Wolffe looked at you. Of course you knew that you had to represent the Republic wherever you went, but usually that didn’t stop you from speaking up for what’s right. He wasn’t sure whether he should be impressed by or concerned about your self restraint. 

“It’s very different in our culture. We marry for love, most of the time at least”, you finally said. And if he hadn’t been staring at you already Wolffe would never have noticed the way your eyes flitted over to him when you said “love”. 

Several of the Gonchee opened their mouth to argue, but lucky for the entire 104th a few women carrying trays with various foods and drinks appeared and rendered the men silent. 

-------

Shortly after a near silent meal your Master stood up. 

“I suppose it would be best for us to call it a night. We will have to be up early tomorrow if we want to reach out ship again before nightfall.” 

The Gonchee leader stood up as well and slightly bowed his head before the Jedi. 

“Very well. We have prepared our assembly hut for you, I will show you the way.” He stopped for a moment and looked over to where you were still sitting between Wolffe and Sinker. “Though I know you follow different customs, we Gonchee do not allow women to sleep in a room with people they’re not related or married to, which is why we have also prepared an empty hut for the Commander and his wife. And I suppose they will need privacy so she can perform her marital duties. My son will show them the way” 

You were quite certain that at one point throughout the day your own rank as Commander had been mentioned, but even though you really wanted to correct the old Gonchee, you were tired of dealing with them all day and decided against it. Though the same could not be said for the Wolfpack. Several of them, including Wolffe and Sinker next to you as well as Boost next to Sinker, spoke up to correct him. 

A younger Gonchee, who you assumed was said son, stood up and looked at you with a twinkle in his eyes. 

“Alright, Commanders”, he said. The ironic way in which he pronounced the word made Wolffe roll his eyes, which by now you could tell even if you weren’t looking at him. “Follow me.” 

The two of you bid goodnight to the others and did as the Gonchee had said. The thought of probably having to share a bed with Wolffe crossed your mind for a moment, but it was gone as soon as it came. Though as soon as the son opened the door to a small hut, smaller than any you had seen before, it returned. 

The ceiling was low, the room was small and the only pieces of furniture were a small bed and a single bedside table. 

“It’s not much but it’ll do for the night”, the Gonchee said. Though the words were probably supposed to be apologetic, his tone was anything but. 

Wolffe, bowing his head due to the low ceiling, stepped into the hut while you remained outside. That, however, proved to be a mistake just a moment later, because the Gonchee stepped closer, closer than you would have wanted, and looked up at you. 

“You might rather spend the night in my room, it’s bigger and more comfortable and I could really use someone in my bed, especially a pretty human woman such as yourself.” 

Due to his words and the way he eyed you, especially with your private parts almost in his eyeline because of his short height, you wanted nothing more than to punch him. Maybe kick him. Maybe cut off something of his with your lightsaber. And if it hadn’t been for Wolffe you would have, and ruined your mission within a split second. 

But there was Wolffe, knight in plastoid armour protecting you from any rash decisions. He had left the hut and was now standing behind you, from where he put his arms around your middle and, you were sure, glared daggers at the Gonchee. 

“I suggest you leave my wife alone”, he growled and tightened his grip on you even more. 

You weren’t sure whether it was his words, the growl or his arms around you and your back to his chest, but something about his behaviour did something to you. Something that would make it a million times harder to share a room, share a bed, with him tonight. As if your crush on the Commander wasn’t already bad enough...

“I thought in your culture you love the one you marry and if you love this woman you wouldn’t want her to miss out on spending a night with a real man, would you?” 

If the situation wasn’t so tense you would have laughed. A real man? He was covered in fur! 

“Wolffe gives me everything I need and more. I wouldn’t leave him for any man in the entire galaxy.” 

It was only when the words left your mouth that you realized just how true they were. You really had to get that under control, having a crush on your fellow Commander was bad enough, you would not allow yourself to actually fall in love with him. You couldn’t jeopardize your friendship, your future as a Jedi knight, everything and everyone you’ve ever known for a man who you knew thought of you as a friend. 

The Gonchee looked you up and down one last time before glaring at Wolffe. 

“Then I suppose I should bid the two of you good night.”

And without another word he turned around and left the two of you alone. 

As soon as he was gone Wolffe let go of you and put some distance between you. 

“You should lie down, you must be tired after dealing with those idiots all day.” 

His words made you turn around to face him. Once again you just couldn’t read him. One moment he made your heart beat faster by actually acting like your husband and the next he pretended like you were nothing more than acquaintances. But for once you grew tired of this behaviour and refused to oblige, instead you stepped closer to him again and put a hand on one of the arm he had crossed across his chest. 

“I’m sure you’re just as tired, if not more. Let’s both go to bed.” 

He raised one eyebrow, but other than that he didn’t make a move to break contact with you again. 

“There’s only one bed.” 

Now it was your turn to roll your eyes, a gesture you had often copied from Wolffe himself. 

“I know that. But we’re old enough and trust each other enough to sleep in the same bed for one night”, you argued. You didn’t know what made you do it, but you couldn’t resist the urge to lean even closer, stand up on your tiptoes and whisper into his ear. “You’re my husband, after all. And husband and wife usually sleep in the same bed. And how else are you supposed to protect me from the Gonchee?” 

You were too close to his ear to actually see his face, but you were sure he was smirking as he scoffed. 

“I thought you were plenty capable of handling the Gonchee yourself, Commander.” 

The way he said your title did something to you you’d rather not investigate any further. He was teasing, of course he was, but though two could play that game you were simply too tired.

“Just join me in bed when you’re ready. Otherwise you’ll have to sleep on the cold floor and I’ll have to explain to Master Plo why his Commander is sore all over tomorrow.” You could have left it at that, you should have, but you just had to add one more sentence. “And I can think of more pleasant ways to make you sore.” 

As you left him standing and entered the hut you could hear a choked noise coming from him. 

-------

“Finally decided to join me?”, you teased when Wolffe slipped underneath the cover. 

Wolffe didn’t answer. He couldn’t think of an answer, couldn’t think at all. Not with you so close, laying beside him, trusting him to sleep next to you, to defend you if any of the Gonchee were to try something while you were in your most defenseless state. 

“Wolffe”, you whispered after a moment of silence. 

Now he had no choice but to answer. 

“What is it?”, he grunted. And instantly regretted his gruff reply. This was his one chance to have you close, to forget that there was no way the two of you could ever be more than friends. 

“Thank you, for today. And tonight. I’m glad you’re my ‘husband’.” 

Wolffe wasn’t good with words, but in that moment he really had no idea what to say. 

“It really showed us what we’re missing, didn’t it? The chance to be in love, to be married and not have to hide your feelings”, you continued. 

For a second Wolffe’s heart stopped beating. Could you be talking about him not having to hide your feelings or was is just a general statement? Or did you maybe mean that you... No, that was impossible. 

“Anyways, we should get some sleep now, we have an early start tomorrow”, you concluded. 

From then on it only took a few seconds for your breathing to even out and just was Wolffe was about to sigh in relief that he no longer had to pretend that being near you wasn’t affecting him, you rolled over from your back onto your side and were now pressed up against Wolffe. 

It wasn’t just his heart that stopped now, his breathing did as well. How could he move even to take another breath with you so close, with your head resting underneath his chin, your legs intertwined with his and your arm lazily thrown over his torso. 

“Damn it”, he mumbled, though he instantly came to regret having made a sound. Luckily you were still fast asleep, if anything you cuddled up even closer to Wolffe. 

Slowly, more careful than he had ever been, he lifted his own arm to wrap it around your waist and pull you even closer. He let out a content sigh, breathing in the scent of your shampoo in the process. 

Wolffe knew for a fact that he wouldn’t get any sleep that night. This was his one chance to share a bed with you, and even though he would have loved to fall asleep and wake up next to you, he preferred cherishing every second of the night. 

-------

The next morning you were woken up not by the sun shining directly in your face, nor Wolffe’s sort snoring or the birds chirping outside, but by the unfamiliar voices speaking in what you recognized as the language of the Gonchee. 

You decided that it might be best to pretend to still be asleep, which is why you moved even closer to Wolffe and buried your head underneath his chin. In turn he pulled you closer to him, which made you realize that he had had one arm around you the entire time. You were almost too distracted by the warm and comforting presence of Wolffe next to you and the safety his arm around your waist guaranteed to notice that his breathing changed as he slowly woke up. Though like you Wolffe must have decided not to make it known that he was awake, it was only the more uneven breaths and the stiffening of his body that made it obvious. 

“Might I ask why you have invaded my commanders’ privacy?”, a familiar voice cut through the Gonchees’ conversation. And though you knew that it was safe to ‘wake up’ not that Plo Koon was here, both you and Wolffe still pretended to be fast asleep. Which had nothing to do with the fact that you simply didn’t want to face a reality where you weren’t cuddling in bed with Wolffe, nothing at all.  

“We... I....”, one of the Gonchee stammered. 

“We were here to wake them up”, another voice, who you recognized as the leader’s son, tried to explain. 

You both heard and sensed you master coming closer, and though part of you was worried what he may say, or worse think, about the position you and Wolffe were in, the bigger part was comforted by the fact that the Gonchee were either afraid enough or had enough respect for the Jedi to hurry out of the hut within seconds. 

“I know you’re awake.” Your Plo’s voice sounded amused rather than mad, though to be fair, in all your years of being his Padawan you had only seen him angry a handful of times, and almost never at you. 

It took a lot of self-restraint to fight the urge to cuddle closer to Wolffe for one last second before opening your eyes, but you managed. In moments like these you really wished Plo wouldn’t have to wear a mask, it would make it worlds easier to guess his feelings if you could just see his face. 

“I take it the two of you slept well?”, he asked. “The Gonchee certainly seemed to think so.” 

You didn’t know what to say. Was there anything you could say without letting either Wolffe or Plo Koon know just how well you slept with your fellow commander by your side? How much you never wanted to go to sleep without him in your arms again and how much you already missed him, now that he was just a few centimeters away? 

“Did you understand them, sir?”, Wolffe asked. It didn’t escape your notice that he didn’t answer the question either, though that could simply be due to the fact that Wolffe despised small talk, even with the man who was like a father to him. 

“I understood enough to know that they believe the two of you to be very much in love. As well as a few comments I’d rather not repeat, or think  about ever again”, Plo replied. As he spoke his eyes shifted between you and Wolffe, though you tried your best not to meet his gaze. You knew that he could already tell more than enough about your emotions through your force connection, if he saw your face, saw the love and admiration that must be visible in your eyes, he would know just how much you cared for Wolffe. 

“I’ll let you get ready then. Be outside in 10 minutes, we’re leaving in 20.” With those words Master Plo turned around, left the hut and left the two of you alone. 

You looked over at Wolffe, who, same as you, was leaning against the wobbly headboard. 

“For what it’s worth, I really did sleep well. Better than I had in a long time”, you said with a slight smile on your lips. Maybe this was overstepping a boundary, but right now you didn’t care. 

All Wolffe, in a very characteristic yet disappointing, fashion did was nod before standing up and starting to put on the first pieces of his armour. Other than you, who had actually changed into a pyjama while Wolffe had still been outside the hut last night, he had slept in his blacks and didn’t really have to change, or rather undress. 

You, however, did. At first you glanced around the hut, looking for some sort of privacy you knew you wouldn’t find. Then you considered your options: You could ask Wolffe to leave, or to simply turn around, while you would change and he’d do it with probably only an amused smile, or you could just change real quick while he was still busy with his armour. In the blink of an eye you decided on the second option, partly because Wolffe, as well as the other clones in the 104th, had seen you bloody and sweaty, with torn clothes and in various states of undress before, either in the medbay or when you had been in a particular hurry, but mostly you just didn’t want to send Wolffe away, not after having spent the night together. 

It was only when you had already changed into your regular trousers and just put on your bra when you came to regret your decision. 

“What the kriff do you think you’re doing?”, Wolffe asked, his tone mostly shocked, though there was an emotion in there you couldn’t quite decipher. 

“What does it look like? I’m changing.” 

You had previously had your back turned to Wolffe, but his question, or rather the way in which he asked, gave you the confidence boost needed to turn around and face him. 

“Would you rather I went out in my pyjama?” 

This trip really was proving to be most unusual, since Wolffe seemed to be speechless. 

“Of course not”, he finally said, though his voice did sound a bit off. “But you could have asked me to leave.” 

By now you really didn’t know where your confidence was coming from, but as if an autopilot you stepped closer to him, close enough to see the way his eyes, as well as his pupils, widened. 

“Maybe I didn’t want you to leave.” 

It was a bold statement, and maybe not entirely true, but it seemed to do the trick, since a smirk found its way to Wolffe’s lips. His eyes, previously focused on your eyes, flitted down to your chest for a moment before going back up again. 

“Then what is it you wanted me to do?”, he asked. “What do you want?” A clear challenge to either back down or take a leap. A challenge you shouldn’t accept, but found yourself really wanting to. 

“I want you to be here, with me. I want you to be with me wherever I go. I want you next to me in bed when I go to sleep at night and when I wake up the next morning. I want you to always look at me the way you’re doing right now. I want you to touch me and kiss me and make me yours. Maker, Wolffe, I want you!” 

The words were out of your mouth without thinking. Just like that, you had voiced every thought running through your brain, made yourself vulnerable to Wolffe’s reaction, whatever it might be. Though you had never expected it to be an arm, already covered in plastoid, to wrap around your waist and a hand, warm and steady, on the back of your neck.   

“You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for you to say that”, he mumbled before crashing his lips against yours. 

Though you didn’t have much experience, you knew that this was what a kiss was supposed to be. It was not a clashing of teeth, like your first kiss, nor hesitant and barely there, like your second, but a perfect mixture. Wolffe wasn’t rough, though there was just enough force to tell you that he could be if that’s what you wanted. His lips worked against yours as if they were made to, teeth softly grazing your bottom lip a few times before biting down. He nibbled on your lip, then caressed it with his tongue before giving the same treatment to your top lip. Some time during the kiss your hands had found their way into his hair, pulling it and pulling him closer at the same time, finally feeling the soft strands between your fingers and causing Wolffe to moan at the sensation. By the time his tongue made its way into your mouth you could have sworn that your legs were made of jelly, that you had moved on to whatever came after this life, that this was a dream. 

Even when Wolffe pulled away to catch his breath you didn’t dare to open your eyes, afraid of the reality you would find if you did. 

You heard Wolffe’s low chuckle before his lips were on you again. This time he gently kissed your cheeks, the corners of your lips, before making his way down. He spread small bites on your jaw and then followed his teeth with his tongue, soothing the slight sting. Though it was a spot high up on your neck, just beneath your jaw, that finally got a reaction from you. You tightened your grip on his hair as his lips ghosted over the spot and moaned when they pressed harder. 

“So needy”, Wolffe chuckled.

All you did to reply was pull his head up again for another kiss, one that was faster and more heated than the last. Though as soon as you pulled away his lips found their way to the same spot again. He began to suck while at the same time pulling you back to the bed. You wondered how he had enough sense to sit down and pull you into his lap, all your thinking had abandoned you the moment his lips first met yours. 

“Wolffe, I - kriff, stop -”, you panted. 

As soon as you said the word he pulled away, though his hands still had a grip on you, it loosened and he looked at you with nothing but love and lust in his eyes. 

“What is it, mesh’la?” 

For a moment you leaned your forehead against his shoulder before straightening up again and looking at him. 

“As much as I’d love for you to leave hickeys all over, we both know that you can’t. No one can know this ever happened”, you told him, making sure to put just enough authority in your voice to make him take you seriously. 

A sly grin was on his lips as soon as the words left your mouth. 

“I know, cyare”, he reassured you. He leaned closer again, though this time his lips didn’t move to your neck, but to your ear. “But later I’ll mark you in places where no one but me will see.” 

The thought alone send shivers down your spine and heat to your core, but it also placed a smile on your face. 

“Looking forward to it”, you said and placed a quick peck on his lips. Though you should have known that Wolffe wouldn’t leave it at that. He pulled you closer once again, the hand on your waist now moving upwards and to the front until it cupped your breast. Gently, in stark contrast to the way he bit down on your lip, he squeezed and massaged in before moving on to the other one. 

Another moan escaped your lips, this one even louder. 

“Careful, we don’t want anyone to hear you, do we?” 

You were about to nod in agreement when an idea popped into your head. 

“I bet hearing me would make the Gonchee really believe that we’re married.” 

Wolffe chuckled as he once again moved his hands to your waist. 

“I think they already believe us, cyare.” 

-------

It had taken the two of you a while to finally separate and make yourselves look presentable, and only when you heard Sinker calling for the last men to hurry up did you finally leave the hut. 

Now, on your way back to the ship, the two of you were finally together again after you had talked to Plo Koon and Wolffe to the other clones for a while. 

“You know, I’m really glad it was you I was fake married to”, you confessed in a whisper. 

Wolffe’s hand brushed against yours for a second while he chuckled. 

“You know, maybe one day we can scratch the ‘fake’.” 

He saw the surprise in your eyes as you looked up to him. Truth be told, he hadn’t meant to say that in that moment, but he knew he wanted it to be true. Some day, when the war was over, if you would still want him by your side by then. 

“I’d like that. I’d like that very much”, you said with a smile. “But first, I think there’s something else we need to do, once we have some time and privacy.” 

Wolffe knew exactly what you were talking about, and though he couldn’t wait to feel you, to hear you and touch you again, he also couldn’t wait for the day he would get to call you his wife for real. Maybe, after such a long time of denying his feelings and then refusing to act on them, this trip to the Gonchee village and pretending to be married had been good for something after all. 

I tried to put a little bit of everything (and by ‘everything’ I mean some of my favourite tropes) into this story, I hope you enjoyed it. 

As always, feedback is greatly appreciated. <3

[kaidenya]

Getting Caught ✧ MHA

Description: Headcanons for getting caught in a intimate moment with Hitoshi Shinso, Tenya Iida, Mirio Togata, & Tomura Shigaraki

WARNING: NSFW, suggestive content NOTE: This is a repost of an old SHITPOST headcanon I had on my previous account so if this looks familiar I hope you enjoy it the second time around!

“Nobody will know...”

Shinso

Shinso would go to his grave claiming that you were to blame for this situation

But in all honesty, he had been allowing things to build for far too long

You two weren’t necessarily a secret, but most people just assumed you were bEsT fRiEnDs 🥴

It was an honest misunderstanding

You had decided to keep physical contact to a minimum after an unfortunate attempt at holding his hand left you believing he didn’t enjoy any forms of PDA.

Shinso had just assumed the same about you.

However, as the two of you grew more serious, you found it more difficult to keep your hands to yourself

It just so happened your boyfriend had been working extremely hard in the hero course and it s h o w e d

You had found yourself admiring his changing physique and in turn, found you weren’t the only one admiring your boyfriend.

You weren’t necessarily jealous— you trusted him more than anything, but he tended to be socially constipated

And nobody seemed to know about you. Thus giving the other interested parties an unintentional greenlight to flirt with him. And there was one girl that had stood out among the sea of suitors.

Each time you saw the second-year girl perch next to Shinso it made your skin crawl, but no lines had been crossed.

Until they were.

Your knuckles were gripping the strap of your bag so tightly it ached when you made your way to where your boyfriend was perched outside

The second-year didn’t even acknowledge you as she continued her flirtatious ways and you don’t resist the urge to roll your eyes as you settle into the place next to him.

He had flashes you a lazy smile before focusing back on his phone screen.

Then her hand landed on his upper thigh

Let me tell you: sleepy boy was shocked when she touched him, but he was EVEN MORE SHOCKED when you took her by the wrist and tossed her hand to the side

You waste no time threading your fingers with his, rising to your feet and all but hauling him from his seat

His amusement only grew as he realized just how jealous you had gotten, a smirk forming over his lips as he set to teasing you

‘What’s the matter, kitty? You don’t like anyone touching daddy?’

NO, YOU DO NOT

You have no idea how you ended up on your knees in a supply closet??

Shinso is feeling very sure of himself above you, using the hand that was gripping the back of your neck as leverage to hold you down on his length

k i n g of dirty talk 🤭

Absolutely cannot help himself when it comes to telling you how pretty you look choking on his cock

Honestly doesn’t last long, but what do you expect? Seeing your jealous and possessive response to the girl he had given little to no acknowledgment had lit a fire in his chest

He was desperate to get his hands on you, to remind you that he was just as much yours as you were his.

And when he does— oh MAN he makes you forget all about the second-year girl

He has one of your legs draped over his shoulder as he goes down on you, licking and sucking at you in a way that had you trembling

You accidentally knock over a pile of brooms and mops, neither of you paying them any mind as your head lulled in bliss

If only you had remembered to flick the lock on the door…

Kirishima really thought someone was banging on the door for help. It wouldn’t have been manly— or heroic not to make sure someone wasn’t in trouble

Besides, why else would someone be making so much noise in a supply closet if they weren’t stuck??

So when the door swung open and he locked eyes with you, still panting and moaning as an all too familiar head of purple hair buried further into your heat—

He let out the loudest shout he could muster. Apologies poured from his mouth as he fumbled to shut the door

However, your boyfriend made no move to let you go. Instead, he hummed against your skin, only leaning back to nip at your inner thigh before speaking in a heavy voice

‘Better make this fast, kitty.’

Iida

So you’ve tried to keep your relationship on the down-low bc Iida doesn’t want anyone to think he’s distracted

We all know he just doesn’t wanna be called out for his obvious favoritism

Before you got together you were constantly pushing him, breaking minuscule rules in favor of gaining his attention. Nothing too immoral, but enough to get under his skin.

Like slipping into class just seconds after the bell had rung, nearly avoiding Aizawa’s attention, but never making it past Iida.

Or when a class had gotten a bit too stressful, the room filling with hot air as tensions rose and you had to pop open a few buttons of your uniform top

Then there was your favorite offense; desk sitting. If there was one sure way to get a reaction from your stickler of a boyfriend it was to place yourself on top of a desk.

Which is what you found yourself doing at the end of an unfavorable week. The two of you hadn’t gotten a moment together outside of your studies and you were growing needy.

So with a few moments of free time before class began, you decided to chat with Tsu and Uraraka, settling atop the desk between them when you had grown tired of standing

The desk belonging to none other than Tenya

Your ankles were crossed as you leaned forward to speak with Tsuyu and he was beyond s h o o k

Immediate hand chopping.

He’s towering over you, ranting about how your behavior was improper while keeping his hands clenched in an attempt to keep from running his fingertips along your thighs.

When was the last time you were this close to him? It had to have been longer than he realized for him to have such a strong reaction— are you biting your lip??

Any response between you died off as Aizawa addressed the class and you were sent back to your seat, leaving Iida far more frazzled than you realized

The moment class ends he has you tucked under an empty stairwell to continue his lecture

Only he doesn’t get very far

Tenya Iida has an authority kink. I take no criticism.

When you look up at him from under your lashes, muttering the words ‘yes sir’ as he chastised you, his resolve was shattered

Has you pressed against the wall immediately, fisting your blazer as he dips to press his forehead to yours

‘Why must you push me?’

Doesn’t even let you answer before his mouth is covering yours, hips arching to grind his obvious arousal against you

Knowing he had been just as affected by your as you had him was enough to spur a moan past your lips and he takes the chance to slide his tongue into your mouth

Although he was MORTIFIED at the impropriety of it all, he couldn’t resist the sweet noises you made as he expertly worked against you

His hand eventually slides between you, pushing past the waistband of your bottoms and grinding his palm against you teasingly

‘Now, who do you belong to, darling?’

You you youyouyou—

Your hand was rubbing along Iida’s hard cock, his length straining against his pants to the point you’re almost worried they’ll rip

Somehow the two of you had been so lost in one another that you hadn’t heard the door open at the top of the stairwell

Denki and Mineta honestly weren’t creeping this time— they just wanted a snack from the vending machine adjacent to you!

Got a whole ass meal instead 👁👄👁

A moan tore from your throat, quickly being smothered by Tenya’s parted lips as you came on his fingers

You had barely made out the echoing sound of objects clattering to the ground through the ringing in your ears

But your boyfriend had heard

His lips separated from you in an instant, shocked gaze shifting into something closer to anger as he recognized your classmates

Denki began stammering out an apology, looking close to short-circuiting as his attention flickered between you

Mineta had let his gaze linger on you for too long. His eyes taking in the way your exposed chest— Tenya must have pulled the buttons loose

You cringe away from his gaze, post-orgasm haze™ spurring you to tuck yourself closer to Tenya to avoid their stares rather than snap at them

It was your obvious discomfort that had kicked Iida into gear, twisting to thread your button your blouse together before rounding on the others

If embarrassment wasn’t enough, the thought of them having seen you in such a vulnerable position had him seething as he began his lecture

Attempts hand chopping them into submission, but they kept disregarding his words in favor of catching another glimpse of you in a fucked out state

All fondness for his classmates had vanished as he stepped into their line of sight, shielding you from their gazes. His eyes almost daring them to continue

Whatever words lingering on their tongues died off, heads bowing in shame as they agreed to keep the entire situation to themselves

After all, the potential wrath of Tenya Iida was not something to be taken lightly.

Mirio

Mirio’s love language is touch, without a doubt, so it’s honestly surprising when he’s NOT trying to get handsy with you

He’s always defended his obvious displays of affection by claiming he had so little free time— he’d be a fool to waste the opportunity to touch you!

Mirio jumped at the opportunity to feel you against him. Whether it was a heavy kiss to your lips after walking you to class, a hand slipping under your shirt to caress your back, or his fingers trailing teasingly along your thigh.

However, as much as he was attentive, he was also forgetful.

It was because of that forgetfulness that you found yourself alone in your dorm. Countless boxes of takeout were lined up on your desk and a pre-planned movie was ready to play on your small tv.

After a few hours and countless delivered messages, you succumbed to disappointment.

The following day Mirio can’t seem to figure out why you’re avoiding him, but he refuses to give up without a fight.

Definitely thinks it’s a game of some sort and takes it upon himself to break your silent streak

It wasn’t easy being upset with Mirio. He had an uncanny ability to brighten any room he stepped into and being irrevocably in love with him only strengthened his effect

He’s always hard for you and loves letting you know just how you affect him— so why not place a hand on your hand, pressing firmly against your back when he slips past?

You always look so stunning— why not feed you compliments at every given moment?

How could he not look at you with the most iNTENSE GAZE undressing you with his eyes in front of everyone?

It’s when he realizes that you aren’t reacting to his teasing and flirtatious behaviorist that he caves.

He finds you between classes, stirring you away from the crowd, despite your wordless protests. It isn’t until you’re tucked away in an abandoned hall that he finally asks what was wrong

You had fully intended on dragging it out, allowing anger to push you on. But he spoke to you in the softest voice, looked at you with eyes filled with so much devotion that it was nearly overwhelming

He is shocked when you shove him away— were you tearing up??

Actually gets super defensive because he doesn’t realize HES the one that made you upset

Once you finally cave and remind him about the date he had missed it hits him like a freight train.

The two of you so rarely got time together and he had stood you up.

‘I’m so sorry, baby. I’ve been so busy lately— I didn’t realize I was neglecting you.’

Does not waste time making it up to you. He cups your face in his hands as he starts placing soft kisses on your face, cooing softly as tears roll down your cheeks

Did somebody say praise kink?

How can you stay mad at him when he’s telling you how sorry he is and that he loves you and you’re the only one his dick will get hard for??

It isn’t long before he’s pinned you between him and the wall, hitching your legs around his waist while coaxing you into a heavy kiss

His hips flex to grind against you, his hot length slotting between your thighs as he digs his fingertips into the curve of your ass

Mirio does not care that somebody could see— his quirk leaves him naked all the time and he’s shameless 🥵

But again he’s so forgetful—

And he was meant to go straight to class 1A to talk with them alongside the other members of The Big Three

So when he didn’t show up Aizawa had sent Tamaki and Midoriya in search of their future number one hero

How were you supposed to know they would turn the corner just as you arched from the wall?

Mirio had no idea anyone was there as he used the hand that was wrapped around your throat as leverage to grind you over the edge—

bOY were you embarrassed when you heard the two boys audibly g a s p

Midoriya’s embarrassment nearly gave Tamaki a run for his money. You were quick to turn away, immediately hiding your face in his chest as he greeted the duo in an overly cheerful voice

Absolutely teases the three of you over the incident FOREVER!!

Shigaraki

Shigaraki was obsessed with you.

There was no way around how infatuated he had become and it only seemed to grow alongside your relationship

He was touch starved. The moment you began giving him physical affection and attention it was game over

He had no shame, especially when it came to his desire for you, which is how you often found yourself perched on his lap no matter the company.

That being said, the leader of the League of Villains became intolerable when the two of you were separated for long.

And a recent spiral of events has prevented you from returning to the hideout, thus leaving the others to deal with him

You weren’t expected to return until the following week. Aside from texting Shigaraki endlessly (didn’t he have anything better to do?) and assuring Twice and Toga that you’d be returning as soon as possible, you hadn’t had much contact with the League

Shigaraki was wound up tight, lashing out at the others far more than usual. That was how he ended up sitting at the bar, Father concealing his annoyance as Kurogiri took over the meeting.

And suddenly you were walking in, muttering a quick apology before taking the only available seat beside Toga

Shigaraki could not keep his eyes off of you, something that doesn’t go unnoticed by the others. It was the most present he had been since you left.

Of course, that meant Dabi has also noticed and never missing an opportunity to mess with their ruthless leader he shifted closer from his place behind you, muttering small talk into your ear

There is no doubt in my mind that Shigaraki was staring at you both like 😠 behind Father

Luckily the meeting had been wrapping up upon your arrival and the group was dismissed, many leaving to handle their own business.

However, the moment you had leaped to your feet Tomura had vanished from the room

With a sigh you moved over to the bar, sliding into the seat that had once been occupied by your man and Kurogiri placed a drink before you

By the time you had downed the last bit the bar had gotten eerily quiet, though when you shifted to speak to the Misty Man he was already looking over your shoulder. With a single nod, he had left the room.

The moment he was gone leather artist gloves shoved under your top, your heart racing at the all too familiar feeling as a palm settled between your shoulders

‘I’ve missed you, pet.’

There was a harsh tone to his voice, but it was contradicted by the trail of open-mouthed kisses he pressed along your neck and shoulder

Your entire body arched against him, head craning back to catch a glimpse of him, smiling widely as you met his gaze and returned the sentiment

A scoff slid past his lips, though you could see the amusement dancing in his gaze as his hand reached around to wrap around your throat

Despite the gloves, he kept a pinky in the air

His mouth covers yours in a sloppy kiss as his hips jolt sharply against you, knocking you against the countertop

Absolutely cannot control himself as he ruts against you, wasting little to no time in pushing your bottoms down past your thighs

Heat pooled in your stomach as his free hand reached between you to pull himself from his jeans

His dick slid between your thighs, a throaty whine sliding past your lips and despite the slick from your arousal the thick head stretched you perfectly

You had been completely lost in him, moaning and whining freely as he continued to rut against you.

There was a click throughout the room, similar to the door handle being twisted and your attention was adverted to the source

However, Shigaraki was faster.

He grabbed the back of your head and using his hold as leverage to press your face flat against the bar-top while his other hand worked against your sensitive center. A loud moan that was undoubtedly his name tumbled past your lips

‘There’s my little slut— louder, make sure they know who makes you feel this good.’

Unbeknownst to you, the person he wanted to be sure knew you were his had entered the room, Tomura meeting his gaze with a smirk as you began chanting his name like a prayer

A harsh thrust of his hips sent you over the edge as you came on his cock, filthy praises slipping past his lips as his hot release rolled down your thighs

He placed another sloppy kiss on the back of your neck before parting from you.

The moment you lift your head and begin adjusting yourself you lock eyes with Dabi

Embarrassed didn’t even begin to explain how you felt as Tomura let out a loud laugh, reaching down to pull your bottoms up after he had tucked himself away

‘Go wait on my bed while I speak with Dabi and I may let you come on my tongue.’

You wasted no time hurrying away from the two, heart pounding from both excitement and humiliation as you rushed to do as you were told

[yamanorakuen]

HC: Your Reality [Side Characters]

Backstory: Obey Me! is your favorite mobile game and you have fallen for one of the characters in particular, but acknowledge that they are not real. Still, in your head, you wished they were..

[Brothers' version]

Read below the line!

“I wonder if I could be Diavolo’s queen/king if he was real?” You pondered out loud as you were watching yet another royal wedding from the television.

After the beautiful ceremony had ended, the interviewers and paparazzi around had started to film and talk to the royal and influential wedding guests as this seemed to be the event of the century to get the goss on them.

Suddenly one of the wedding guests in the background caught your attention. He had burning red hair, darker skin, he was extremely tall and well-built.. He kind of reminded you of your fictional crush, Diavolo.

You wished so hard that one of the interviewers would interview him, just so you could learn his name!

And your wish miraculously came true; one of the interviewers turned to talk to the tall, dark and handsome man in question.

“And here we have a Prince for the far-away kingdom of.. Um.. Excuse me, the name of the kingdom has seemingly slipped my mind… Denmark, was it?”

“Devildom, ma’am.” The man smiled politely at the interviewer, “You might not have heard of it before, but I assure you, it is a real place.”

“Oh, um, if you say so, Mr…” The interviewer trailed off, clearly taken aback by the prince’s words.

“You may call me Diavolo.” The gorgeous man introduced himself and your heart skipped a beat. Did he really call himself Diavolo?!

“What a.. Unique name, Mr. Diavolo. You told us earlier you have a message to deliver, wasn’t that right?” The interviewer chuckled nervously and Diavolo nodded.

“Yes. I have traveled this far in search of my beloved. I am hoping this message will reach them.” Diavolo looked straight into the camera with a serious look.

“Oh, is your lucky beloved a royal guest in this wedding? What a romantic notion!” The interviewer cooed, perked up by the sudden declaration of love.

“No, but I am hoping these cameras will carry my message to them. I have heard this wedding is shown all over the world, yes?” The interviewer nodded, “Very well. My beloved’s name is MC and I haven’t been able to stop thinking about them ever since their departure. When I find them again, I am going to ask them to come back home with me and if they say yes, make them my queen/king.” Diavolo spoke with a serious tone although the look in his eyes was soft and lovestruck.

Your whole face turned a wonderful shade of red as you listened to Diavolo. There must be many other people with the same first name as you, right? There’s no way the handsome prince was addressing you-.

While you were freaking out internally, you heard the doorbell ring, “Aw man, just as the interview was getting interesting..” You cursed your luck as you walked to the front door, opening it slowly.

Behind the door stood yet another familiar face, “MC. I was sent on the behalf of my Young Master. We are asking you to return to Devildom so my Lord can fulfill the promises he made to you through the television.” A man that looked exactly like Barbatos from Obey Me spoke calmly, politely stretching his hand out for you to take.

“Are you.. Barbatos?” You questioned, not believing your eyes or ears.

The man nodded curtly, “Yes. Now, please hurry up, the Prince of Devildom is dying to see you again.”

“My room is a mess.. Ugh, if only Barbatos was real so he could help me clean it up!” You grinded your teeth, looking at your messy room.

Sometimes you found yourself wondering how different your life would be if that demon butler was actually real. Not just for his usefulness, but his personality and presence as well. You didn’t know how and why, but he had quickly become your favorite character in this mobile game you were playing.

You were about to get your vacuum cleaner, but when you opened the closet door, instead of finding your usual cleaning supplies, you found a very different scene...

You were standing at the end of a church corridor, holding a bouquet of flowers, looking up ahead. At the other side of the corridor stood a man in a suit with a priest. You looked at yourself and realized that you were in an outfit fitting for a wedding. The organ started to play a march, but you weren’t really sure whether it sounded like a wedding march or a death march.

You looked around anxiously, seeing many pairs of expectant eyes on you. You didn’t even recognize your “future husband!”

“I’m not ready! I’m sorry!” You screamed at the crowd, threw your flowers to the ground, turned around and slammed open the church doors.

Stepping out of the church, you found yourself in a classroom. You sat at the desk, seeing your old teacher and classmates from elementary school.

“MC, you’re up next. Please come in front of the class to show your presentation.” Your teacher called out to you.

A presentation! But you’re not prepared! You don’t even know what’s going on!

Instead of walking in front of the class, you ran out of the door without looking back.

Only to find yourself in a hospital room. You could hear many machines beeping around you, and saw a person lying on the bed, under the covers.

Slowly, you walked closer to the person, holding your breath. You nearly screamed when you recognized them. It was you, old, wrinkly, pale and withered. Suddenly, your old self’s eyes shut open, fear flashing in them when they met yours, but unable to scream.

Instead, you screamed: “Let me out of here already!” You yelled and sprinted out of the hospital room, only to run into someone’s waiting arms.

You looked up, noticing a man with glowing, green eyes, in a trance-like state. He seemed familiar, but the way his eyes glowed scared you.

Before you could run, however, the man’s eyes returned to normal and he seemed to finally notice your presence. A smile formed on his lips as he graciously put his arms around you.

“MC.. There you are.. I have kept looking everywhere for you..” The man breathed in relief and he started to slowly play with your hair.

“W-What’s going on..?” You whispered, still shocked about everything that had just taken place.

“Oh my, you must be worried sick.. It is alright now, my dear,” the man shushed you calmly, “Timelines just got warped. It is my fault. But you are safe now. No more warping or time jumping, I promise you. I just had to find you.”

“I don’t understand.. Who are you..?” you shook your head and backed down to take a better look at the man’s face. The moment you saw it, you recognized it to be safe and familiar..

“Where are my manners? My name is Barbatos, and right now you’re in Devildom, your new - and old - home. We thought we had lost you, but I managed to bring you back to where you belong.” Barbatos couldn’t hide the happiness he felt in his eyes as he looked down at you.

“I wish I had a guardian angel like Simeon watching over me.. That’d make me feel so safe.” You batted your eyelashes, in the middle of a busy street after you had just fallen on your butt while carrying your groceries.

Embarrassed, you avoided the curious gazes of strangers as you got up and was ready to pick up the groceries when-.

Your feet started to move on their own and you left your groceries lying on the pavement, abandoned.

'Noooo, my ice cream…' You mournfully thought but couldn’t stop yourself from walking away. The voice in your head was telling you to walk out of the city, away from the crowds.

Even if you tried to make a conscious effort to stop walking, you didn’t, as if you were being controlled by a higher power.

Wait, is this what it feels like to be a sim?

Before you even noticed it, you had walked into a picturesque scenery; a peaceful small lake surrounded by luscious weeping willows and flower beds. The sun was shining warmly on your skin and you immediately forgot all your worries, including your forgotten groceries.

You wanted to go pick up some flowers but no, the voice in your head told you to walk towards the lake. So you did, having no other choice.

When you reached the lake, the voice commanded you to dip your toes in and stand in the shallow water. You tried to reason with your sudden urges that you didn’t feel like swimming, but it was all in vain as in the next moment, you found yourself standing in the water, gazing at your reflection.

“And then MC gazed upon their beautiful face, slowly realizing what was going on..” You heard a voice say right next to your ear. But when you whipped around, you saw no one. You turned your attention back to your reflection and let out a shaky breath when you did indeed realize something.

“They let out a shaky breath before reaching out to their own reflection, seeing a glimmer at the bottom of the lake..” The voice spoke again, at the exact same time as you were doing those things. You wrapped your hand around the glimmering object, picking it up.

It was a white quill, adorned with blue sapphire. As soon as you touched the sparkling stone, you heard the same voice.

“And after inspecting the quill in her hands, they found themself in a beautiful, ethereal, no, a celestial place.” The world went white for a moment before you saw it; it was the most gorgeous and serene place, one that you could only describe as heavenly.

And under a cherry blossom tree, sat a familiar looking angel, writing into a papyrus paper with the very same quill you had been holding just moments before.

The angel looked up at you, a slow, friendly smile appearing on his face as he stood up, leaving his paper and quill behind, walking up to you.

“MC. You made it.” He spoke softly, reaching out to put a flower behind your ear. The sudden contact made your cheeks flare up.

“Where am I..? Is this heaven? Did I.. Did I die?” You questioned, trying to rack your brain; did you get run over by a car? Did you drown? What happened to you?

“You’re not dead, MC. I just wrote a little twist into the story of your life,” the angel beamed at you as he took your hand, “I am sorry if I scared you, my lamb. I just couldn’t stand being apart from you any longer.”

“What.. What do you mean?” You furrowed your brows, trying to remember before you realized you recognized the guy, “S-Simeon?”

“Yes, my feather. It’s me. Thank goodness you remember my name!” Simeon laughed joyfully before capturing you into a soft embrace, “I am sorry for changing your story out of the blue so suddenly, but now we can create our own story together, just the way it was meant to be.”

“It’d be so cool to meet Solomon for real. How I wish he existed!” You wished out loud during your regular walk in a forest.

It was getting dark sooner than you had anticipated; slight anxiety creeped up your spine as you remembered how scary forests can be during the nighttime.

To calm your nerves, you decided to listen to some music on the way home. If you just picked up the pace a little, you should make it home before complete darkness. Everything would be alright.

Your sense of hearing now blocked by music, you had to use your eyes only to navigate the darkening forest.

Then, in the middle of the forest, you saw something that piqued your interest. You knew you shouldn’t stray from the path to explore. You knew you didn’t have the time. Yet, your adventurous side took the better of you as you broke away from your current path.

A slight glow was emitting from behind the trees. A blue, cold, yet mystical, light. Your music was still blaring in your ears as you followed the glow, transfixed.

There, behind the trees, was a clearing. And in the middle of the clearing, there was a circle consisting of glowing.. mushrooms? You felt like you’ve heard about this before, but couldn’t remember what these were called.

Something about the mushroom ring pulled you towards it, begging you to enter it. So, without thinking about it too much, you stepped right in.

Suddenly, your music stopped. You took out your phone to see what was wrong when you realized it had suddenly died. You were supposed to still have 40% left! Electronics industry is a scam!

Then, you got goosebumps and felt a presence somewhere nearby. Looking around, you saw no one. The mushrooms started to emit some small, glowing orb-like particles… You felt weird…

“Who dares to disturb the fairy ring?” A voice asked right next to your right ear. You jumped up, looking around furiously, but saw nothing yet again.

“Aww, just when I was having fun! Too bad, guess you’ll have to join in our fairy dance!” The same voice said to your left ear. You gasped as you heard music starting to play out of nowhere; not your phone, not your headphones, just around you. It wasn’t like anything you’ve ever heard before. Then, your feet started to move on their own, waltzing to the steady rhythm of the music.

You felt a pair of invisible hands wrap around your waist. You were really freaked out, but couldn’t stop dancing!

Slowly, the invisible person began to turn visible; white hair.. brown eyes.. There was a certain familiarity to him. Was he really a fairy?

Suddenly, the man slow dancing with you started to laugh uncontrollably, “The look on your face is priceless, MC!”

“Who are you? Are you a fairy?” You asked, flabbergasted and slightly offended.

“Do I look like a fairy?” The man chuckled, “No, I’m just your local wizard pulling a prank on you!” He winked at you playfully, “Don’t you recognize me, MC?”

You racked your brain for a moment, a wizard he says… “You kinda look like this character I like.. Solomon. He’s also a wizard.”

“Bingo! So you like me, huh?” Solomon exclaimed as the music started to die down. To your relief, you didn’t feel the all-powerful need to dance anymore, “I’m Solomon, and I’m here to invite you back to a place you once knew as home.” He declared mysteriously.

“A place I once knew..? I don’t really follow, I don’t even know you..” You said apologetically but Solomon’s grin didn’t fade.

“Devildom, you silly goose! Everyone’s been asking me how you’ve been," Solomon’s grin melted into a softer smile, “And I’ve been waiting to have you with me like this again, too. Never forget about me again, okay?”

A/N: Thank you for reading! Feel free to like, share and comment your favorite one out of these imagines.