#his words. he said it makes sense. after telling me my symptoms don't make sense before

[deplcythebattery]

holy fucking shit guys. i have FND. my neuro officially diagnosed me with FND i have a diagnosis i don't have to wonder any more it's no longer question mark after question mark i have FND and it makes sense

[letsgetrowdy43]

Do first, think later—

Jack Hughes x Reader

Request: Jack’s gf finds out she’s pregnant but Jack doesn’t know how to process it at first. So she felt alone and decided to take a trip back home to Michigan to see family but Jack freaks out and flies out of NJ to see her

She and Jack had their fair share of pregnancy scares over the span of their relationship, no matter how careful they were there was always a chance and a moment of pure fear while staring at the time on their phones as they watched the negative sign slowly appear.

This time though, this time was different.

The symptoms were really strong, nausea was insane, her boobs had grown a cup size, and the food aversions were becoming intense. That's when Jack suggested maybe testing, just to stop the stress from building, fingers crossed that the tiny stick would show the answer they both wanted. But as that second line appeared both Y/n and Jack went down a spiral, her hands covering her mouth to stop the gasp that was bubbling up in her throat.

"Okay, we can-" the tears started as she looked up at her boyfriend who stared at the counter in shock. All of the colours drained from his face as he swallowed thickly, finally looking at her, "I need to go for a walk," he said making a bee-line for the front door. She cried quietly while following him to the door, disbelief filling the empty space between them as he ignored the pleas for him to stay, "Can we at least talk about this before you leave Jack?" "I need to leave, I'll be back," he promised, still not fully looking at her as he slipped on his sneakers and was out the front door.

He didn't return that night, or the next, finally on the third day, she finally got confirmation on where he was. She had called Jack multiple times, then she called Quinn, Ellen, Dawson, John, Jesper, and then finally she called Nico who answered immediately.

"Please tell me he's with you, if he's not I'm filing a missing persons report," she said desperately as he let out a sigh. "Yeah he's here, physically at least, he seems zoned out," Nico frowned as he peaked into the living room at the twenty-two-year-old who was quietly staring out the apartment window. a weight lifted off of her chest as she heard the words, "Okay good, at least he's safe."

"What happened? if you don't mind me asking," he asked, shutting his bedroom door so that Jack couldn't hear their conversation. Tears welled up in her eyes as she sat down on the edge of her and Jack's bed, surrounded by clothes and a suitcase, "I'm pregnant, and we thought it was just a scare, but it wasn't, and then he left." "Oh." "I'm really fucking scared Neeks," she cried as her hands wiped away the smudged mascara from her cheeks, "I'm going home to my parents, I don't want to be alone right now," she tried to find a strong voice but lost as she received the notification with the confirmation of her flight. "You do whatever you need, I'll make sure he's safe, you go and be with your family," he said as she whispered a thank you and hung up to finish her packing.

Within the next twenty-four hours the girl found herself in the Detroit airport, Quinn waited for her in the arrivals, pulling her into a hug as he helped her with her bags and led her to the family van.

"He's gonna come to his senses," Quinn said reassuringly as she cried in the passenger seat, her puffy face hiding in her hands as Quinn ran a hand over her back. "He disappeared when I needed him," she frowned. "Trust me, I am not excusing his actions, I'm so mad at him for doing that to you," livid was more the word he would use to describe it, his brother was a much better man than the one who abandoned his young, pregnant girlfriend, "he's more of a do now, think later kind of guy, you know that, he just needs time, and when he comes back to his senses he's gonna hate himself."

She knew it was true, there was never an action that Jack Hughes made that he didn't immediately cringe after. He lived a life of regret, and this was going to be one of those things in his life that he's gonna look back at and be disgusted at for the rest of his life.

"So are you going home to your parents or mine?" Quinn asked as he looked from the road to her. She frowned and thought for a second before she looked at him, "Probably yours, if you think your mom wouldn't mind, I don't think I can tell my mom and dad yet, not while I'm so panicked," she mumbled as the tears started back up again.

Quinn frowned, trying to think of something to say to take her mind off of his idiotic brother, "So I'm gonna be an uncle? I've always wanted a nephew... a niece would be pretty sweet too" The girl grinned at his dorkiness, "Yeah? I've always thought Jack would be a good girl-dad," she grinned as her hand slid down to touch her stomach, her eyes widened at the realization that she was going to be a mom.

Jack returned to their shared apartment the night she flew back to Michigan, his heartbeat in his ears as he searched the apartment for her, only to be met with an empty closet and a lack of her bubbly presence. He chewed his bottom lip nearly off as he did another search of the house, his head spinning with nerves as he stumbled upon a sticky note stuck to the fridge.

"I'm going home for a bit, please call me when you're home and safe, just need to hear your voice -- Y/n <;3"

His phone started ringing loudly, his shaky hands fishing it out of his pocket as he re-read the note over and over again.

"Hello?" "Why is your girlfriend asleep in your old bedroom, looking like the shell of herself, by herself? So help me Jack if you did something to upset that poor girl I will have your head," Ellen scolded over the phone, his body deflated at the sound of his mother's voice instead of Y/n's.

"I fucked up Mom, like so bad," he started, and so did the tears, "I left her here all alone when she really needed me, and I just walked out," he stated rambling, choking on tears as his breaths grew short. Ellen started to tear up at the sound of her son in such distress, "Honey, I need you to breathe, can you do that for me?" she asked as she heard his cries grow quieter on the other end.

"What did you do? I'm sure you can fix it." "She's pregnant, I'm gonna be a dad," Ellen's jaw dropped as she stood in the silence of the Hughes Lakehouse, looking over to Jim who stared at her with furrowed brows. "I'm gonna give you some advice Honey. You are going to get on a flight as soon as you can and fix this in person," Ellen said as she hung up the phone and left him to deal with the issue of his own.

Jim stared at her with a quirked eyebrow, "we are gonna be grandparents," she grinned as Jim choked on his coffee.

Less than twelve hours later, Jack was on the porch of his family's summer house, his heart beating at a fast pace as he stared at the door, trying to convince himself to open it. He took a deep breath and opened the door to be met with Luke who looked at him with a confused look, "you look like shit dude," he said as Jack rolled his eyed. "Thanks, much appreciated, where's Y/n?" "She's out in the back, she was sitting on the dock," Luke shrugged, unaware of all of the tension floating around the house.

She was exactly where Luke said she would be. Sat prettily at the edge of the dock, watching the sunset on the rippling water, a foot in the lake as she stared away numbly.

He stood at the shore, hands shoved in his pockets as he watched her, staring so peacefully, but looking so small, so unsure of herself. He hated that he did that, just as Quinn had suspected. Jack knew they could do it, they could be parents, but in the heat of the moment he wasn't so sure, and now it was leading to be the biggest regret of his life. Even with their young age, a family was everything he dreamed of, this just happened to be a few years earlier than his original plan.

She looked back at him, tears in her eyes as she ushered him to sit next to her, "Please stop just staring at me, it's making me nervous," she sadly joked as he walked over and sat down on the aged wood right next to her.

He stared at her as she watched the horizon, her bottom lip pulled between her teeth as she ignored his gaze, "I'm sorry, about it all," he frowned as she blinked away the tears in her eyes. Jack knew he was gonna need to say a lot more but the words were dying on the tip of his tongue as she ignored him some more.

"We are just so young, and the positive showed up and I just blanked and all of sudden I was in Nico's living room with a million missed calls from everyone and I realized that I'm going to be a Dad." The tears started as he reached out for her hand, she pulled away from his grasp, wiping away her own tears. "I came back to reality and realized that I fucking failed you, I've never hated myself more for something in my life, cause you're my person and I left you, and by extension, I left our baby and holy shit I'm the worst ever Y/n," she finally looked at him to see his face red and puffy, her hand reaching out for his now, "I'm so sorry, I don't think I will ever be able to say it enough times to make it right, but I hope you know how much I truly mean it."

The tears that rolled down her cheeks itched as she tried to calm herself down enough to form a coherent sentence, "I'm so mad at you right now." "I know baby," his hand reached out to tuck her bangs out of the way of her tear-stained cheeks. "You disappeared, and I was at home worrying myself ill, I almost called the authorities!" she gave him a very much-deserved scolding, as she curled up into a ball, knees pulled up to her chest as she let out a tired breath, "I can't even be mad at you either cause you were scared!" "No no, be mad, I hurt you" "I can't cause I feel the same way, I don't know how to be a mom, I'm twenty-one," she cried as he wrapped his arms around her and hugged her into his chest.

"We are gonna be great parents," he said, cupping her face in his hands as she cried, "You are so kind baby, and our baby is gonna be the most loved baby ever, and we can finally get that house in Hoboken we've been looking into," he started listing off all of the things to look forward to with this baby on the way, "we may be young, but there is no one out there that can be as compassionate and as kind as you, and you're about to be the hottest mom that's ever walked this earth," she blushed a bright red as she leaned into him.

"You're gonna be a good dad too," she said once she calmed down a bit, her lips pressing a short kiss to his shoulder. He grinned as his fingers intertwined with hers, "you think?" "I know you will be," she took his hand and placed it on her stomach, he leaned forward to capture her lips in a slow kiss, a mixture of passion and emergency filled their kisses as her hand wrapped around the back of his neck. He smiled into the kiss and pulled away with a grin, "your boobs grew," he smirked like a horny teenage boy as she rolled her eyes. "You're like a twelve-year-old," she smiled as he nipped at her jaw before pressing a kiss to it. "Suck it up, I'm your baby daddy," she grimaced at the term before he kissed her once again.

-

-

-

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

aita for throwing out expired food from the family fridge?

I (17F) live with my dad (54M) and my mom (53F), but my mom works out of the country a lot. My dad is normal and seems to have a sense of shame(? for lack of a better word) when my mom's at home, but when she's working abroad, sometimes for months at a time, my dad kinda spirals. Necessary background is I'm also mildly immunocompromised.

When mom's home, he never does weird stuff, but once she's been gone for about 3 weeks, he starts getting weird.

He does things like cut mold chunks out of (soft) cheese and then put it back in the fridge, and once full on tried to convince me that so called 'live foods' like yogurt and kefir and tofu don't expire because 'they're already fermented' and putting expiration dates on them is either (when he's being more normal) a technicality/regulation or (when he's being weirder) a lie by Big Grocery™ to sell more food (for those who aren't familiar, live foods are fermented in specific ways with very specific bacteria, after they expire they go bad with things like mold just like any other food).

I've tried ignoring it and just not eating it, but it was making the other food in the fridge go bad faster and my dad started getting food poisoning symptoms, also my dad wouldn't buy new food if there was an expired one still in the fridge. Also, with things like the cheese, when he puts it back, I risk eating moldy food without realising it cuz there's no way to tell a mold chunk was cut out until I bite it and taste mold alos on multiple occasions, I've said I tasted mold in something and my dad has lied saying he didn't do this, only for me to see the moldy cheese trimmings in the garbage later when I'm throwing something away.

I've talked with my dad about this and it always goes something like this:

My dad: *drinks a pintglass of expired newman's own lemonaid*

*15 minutes later*

Dad: *coming back from the bathroom* I just had explosive diarrhea.

Me: You know how you drank a glass of expired lemona—

Dad: And it's delicious!

Me: Well, I'm just worried it's making you sick...

My dad: *5 minute rant about Big Grocery™*

Anyway, I started just throwing out the expired stuff, but he'd take it out of the garbage, even when there was something nasty on it, like used coffee grounds or 12 hour old egg shells dripping salmonella-y egg. So I started opening the containers of expired food and spilling them into the garbage bag (they're hefty bags, so it's not making a mess in the can) and sometimes I'd put a handfull of (clean/unused) cat litter into the bag too if it was something like bad produce (think limp carrots or slimey lettuce) so he couldn't just rince it and put it back.

Then I cleaned the fridge with bleach spray and now things aren't going moldy as fast and we have so much more room in there (I didn't get rid of anything but expired food, I wiped non-expired containers off with the bleach spray and put them back), also, my dad's stomach problems have stopped.

I still don't think I did anything wrong, since I know my mom would have done this the second she came home and my dad wouldn't have objected, but since I did it, he yelled at me for wasting money, called me a stooge to Big Grocery™ and compared me to his brother, who thinks leftovers go bad in the time it takes to drive home.

What are these acronyms?

[captain-mj]

Would you be interested in writing about Simon being hit by a love potion / chemical that makes him not inhibited and he is so openly in love and affectionate with Johnny and Johnny doesn’t believe it and of course he has feelings for Ghost but Ghost is clearly compromised (his feelings are real) by the chemical and Soap doesn’t want to take advantage of him? 😩😩😩

Oh? Someone being afraid of taking advantage of someone and being overly respectful of their boundaries? I love it thank you

Soap watched the dart slam into Ghost. It was from some sort of sniper rifle clearly, even though it was clearly just a dart.

He panicked, of course, expecting it to be poisoned.

Price went after the person while Soap tried to see if Ghost was going to drop dead.

Ghost did not drop dead, of course. He hummed instead.

"How do you feel?" Soap had forced him to the ground, a little surprised that he had been able to do that.

"You're gorgeous." Ghost said softly, staring up at him. His eyes were a bit wider and softer, the perfect puppy dog eyes.

Soap paused and stared at him. "What?"

"You're gorgeous." Ghost repeated. "I love your eyes. They're so blue." He sounded wistful.

"Uh... Maybe... don't talk..."

Ghost continued staring up at him with his puppy dog eyes. They were... so big and so soft and Soap had to look away before he did something they'd both regret later.

Clearly, they had dosed him with an aphrodisiac of some kind. While yes, Ghost may not be showing the typical symptoms, it made the most sense. If he felt very turned on, he may act flirty.

"Do you feel hot?"

"My face does but I think that's because I'm blushing."

"Why are you blushing?" Okay, that was helpful. If he had a flush that imply fever and he was sure the medics would

"I always blush around you." Ghost interrupted his thoughts.

"I said don't talk."

"You asked a question." Ghost protested and moved, spreading his legs and stretching a bit. Soap looked away immediately, a habit he had a feeling would be forming.

Price came over the comms, telling him he had the guy. He hadn't killed him, but before Soap could even protest, he answered the unspoken question. "We need him alive so he can tell us what he gave Ghost."

Soap grumbled, but conceded. He glanced at Ghost to see him looking straight at him, almost hungrily. Desperate for Soap's attention.

"Stop looking at me like that."

"So I can't talk or look at you?"

"Exactly."

"I'm your lieutenant, shouldn't I be giving you orders?" Ghost said softly, head tilting back. "I feel so hot."

Soap looked at him, worry for his health fighting with worry of doing something... untoward to him. To Simon. He had read Ghost's files. Knew that there was things that happened to him in the past if Soap ever.... ever was looped in with those things. Those people.

Fuck Ghost's forgiveness, Soap would never forgive himself.

"Let's walk to evac and you can get out of your gear."

Ghost looked up at him, head no longer tilting but instead lolling back. He straightened before Soap could ask and he stood up. Soap went to walk beside him but Ghost grabbed him, leaning weight on to him. It made Soap's heart skitter in his chest. His nerves were bad. Too bad. He couldn't...

"Let's get your feet under you, Simon." Soap stood up a bit straighter and tried to help him. Ghost stumbled but managed. "What are you feeling?"

"Dizzy. Lightheaded. Butterflies."

"Butterflies?" Soap frowned and looked up. Their eyes met and they were so close. Ghost's were half closed but stared into him.

"In my stomach. I feel like a little kid. You remind me of the football player at my high school."

Soap couldn't get a word out.

"I lost my virginity to that guy. He was awful in bed. I bet you'd be better." Ghost leaned forward as if to kiss him.

Soap quickly turned his head and hurried them along, ignoring that Ghost's feet stumbled.

He needed to get him to Price.

What if Ghost acted like this with Price?

What if he acted like this with everyone??

Price, himself and Gaz would never judge Ghost for what happened while he was drugged, but if he acted this way in front of the others, Soap wasn't sure they wouldn't. Ghost may not be quite scary enough to ward that off.

They got to evac and Price joined them. Ghost looked at him and just... nodded before moving to look at Soap again.

Thank God.

"You okay, son?"

"I'm fine." Ghost leaned into Soap, arm going around him. He pulled him closer and Soap winced. "My gear."

"You can take it off now. Doubt you'll need it in the air."

"Help me take it off?"

Price wheezed. "Yeah, you can handle that Soap." He started to walk away.

"Wait! Captain! Captain!" Soap whispered desperately but Price was already gone. "Alright... let me help you." He turned around and started to gently unbuckle Ghost's tac vest and slid it off him.

Ghost let out a sigh of relief as the weight left him. He stretched and then took off his helmet, relaxing into Soap again.

Soap couldn't do this! Ghost wasn't in his right mind! He tried to gently push him away and Ghost adjusted, nuzzling into his neck. The cold feeling of his mask pressed right against him.

"Simon, come on."

"You smell nice. Do you wear cologne?" Ghost took a deep breath, hands on Soap's hip to keep him close.

"No." Soap wheezed, looking away.

"You're gorgeous, Johnny. Has anyone told you that recently?"

"Yes. You. Ten minutes ago."

"..........well you deserved to hear it again." Ghost nuzzled into him. "You're warm too. So warm."

"Weren't you just complaining about being hot?" Soap finally managed to get some space between them.

Ghost looked at him and Soap swore his pupils were in the shape of hearts. "Feels okay when it's you."

Our father who art in heaven. Hallowed be thy name.

Soap felt so flustered. "Simon. You're not..."

"I've loved you so long."

THY KINGDOM COME

"Ghost, you're not in your right mind."

"I just didn't know how to tell you. I didn't think you'd like me back."

Oh dear God.

Soap put his hand over his mouth. "You... You don't mean that. This... poison will wear off and I won't bring this up, okay? I don't..."

Ghost watched him before moving Soap's hand away and slipped off his mask. He leaned forward and kissed him and Soap froze.

How many times had he thought of kissing Ghost?

Ghost tasted like smoke. Not cigarette smoke or the smoke from explosions. Smoke from campfires. Something sweet underneath it. Soap didn't kiss back. He couldn't.

Ghost pulled back, so soft. Unbearably soft. Soap let himself look at him. Scarred and broken, but still Ghost.

"Johnny."

Soap swallowed. "Simon."

"Do you not love me back?" Simon's giant doe like eyes staring at him. Staring into him.

"You're not... I can't... Listen, what if we talk when you come down?"

Ghost shook his head slowly but he moved closer. He put his head on Soap's shoulder and wrapped his arms around him. Soap slowly hugged him back and patted his back.

Ghost ended up falling asleep which was very unusual and Soap made sure to slip his mask back on him.

Price helped Soap get him to medical and they quickly checked his vitals. Next, they put him on an iv just in case.

Soap stayed with him. He couldn't let him be in the hospital alone.

Ghost just... kept staring at him. Giant eyes.

They ended up holding hands. Ghost looked very happy about it. Soap felt flustered.

It was a gradual change. Ghost straightened a bit more. He fixed his mask. He grew agitated and complained about being in the hospital.

Their hands stayed linked.

"Fucking embarrassing." Ghost mumbled.

Soap laughed.

"Meant it though."

Soap stopped laughing. "What?"

"I do love you. Johnny MacTavish."

"You're probably still..."

They made eye contact.

"Oh..."

Ghost blinked at him slowly.

"I love you too Simon Riley."

[schizosupport]

I apologize if this is too personal, but what does it feel like to be multiple people at once? (Please correct me if my wording is off or ask for clarification if necessary)

Hey! So I think that this feels incredibly different for anyone who has this experience, and I don't think that my experience is particularly typical.. But at the end of the day I am only the authority on my own experiences, so I will talk about those.

For me, it's like. I'm rarely multiple people *at once*, though it does happen. Most of the time I'm kind of no-one. I have a hard time conceptualizing myself as a real coherent person, I'm somewhere outside of conscious existence. And then sometimes I'm someone. And when I'm Someone, it's not always the same Someone.

For me it started when I was struggling a lot with taking care of myself. I was living on my own, and the combination of adhd, negative symptoms and disorganisation meant that my living space was rotting around me and I was barely eating etc. I would spend hours upon hours just lying on my sofa and looking up into the ceiling.

At that point a dude named Elias started to be a thing. His name came from the word "alias" because he was like a secret alter-ego. Elias has higher standards than I did. And he was grumpy about it, but ultimately he was there to help me. Sometimes he would "take over" and break us out of the funk. He would feed me, try to make my space less of a health hazard, etc. Elias was also having an identity crisis of his own, because WHAT is he, WHY is he?

Around this time I had lost contact with a friend who had been my main social interaction for the past 11 years. It was a pretty toxic relationship, and one of the ways we "made it work" is that we would come up with roleplay characters who didn't hate each other and who didn't abuse each other, and then we would pretend to be anything from loving siblings to friends to lovers. It meant I had spent years cultivating different personas that were a necessity to my mental safety. They felt very real to me. When I fell asleep as one of them I would have their dreams etc.

So I think partially my brain was struggling because now I was "me" all the time - and who was I?

So there was Elias. Then came M, who was a direct descendant of one of the characters that I had used to be around my ex-friend.

And on top of this, I always have had the tendency to experience age-regression which may or may not be related, but would over time get entangled with this other thing.

In the beginning I was very cruel to Elias and M. I didn't consider them real people, but rather some fucked up play pretend of mine, so I thought I could abuse them freely the way I would abuse myself.

Things changed slowly after I met my fiancé, who was a DID system when we met. They didn't push me about it, but I could sense that they disapproved of the way I treated my "others". And so could the others. Elias bonded strongly with the main alter of my then-girlfriend. Eventually they would become a couple, and it wasn't until years later that I (Quinn) started dating said alter. So in a way it was also my brain's response to the divided identity of my loved one.

Anyways that's all just lore but like how does it feel... Well it's kinda just like. Sometimes I'm a different person with different sensibilities and exact relationships and vibe. And when I'm in such a mindstate, some of them have declared their own name and autonomy, and I don't think I get to invalidate that even though in my current mind-state it feels "not real". Because by now they've been telling me that *they* feel real for years, and who am I to deny them their existence?

At the end of the day the body/brain is real and we are all just different variations on that theme. Any of us is as real as anyone else of us.

[princessasmosprincess]

Charmed, I'm Sure

Chapter 16

Summary: No human has ever avoided Asmodeus's charm. Except for you.

Pairing: Asmodeus x GN Reader/MC

Genre: Drama, angst, a little fluff

Warnings: Nonsexual nudity mentioned

***

Asmo needed to calm down. Lucifer would handle everything. It would be fine.

He threw the bloody handkerchief on the vanity, giving it one more glance before turning his back to it.

He caught his reflection in the mirrored wall of his bedroom. His teary face was beautiful. He flashed a peace sign at himself. Wouldn’t this be a sight for his fans? It would probably do numbers on Devilgram. All he needed was the perfect caption. What was that old quote from that dead author? Tears are diamonds? Pearls? Whatever, he could always ask Satan later. He reached for his D.D.D. to take a selfie when his eyes landed again on the handkerchief in the reflection of the mirror. His heart clenched at the red splotches on the pale pink fabric.

None of this was his fault, it couldn't possibly be. You fainting after he charmed you was just a coincidence. And the blood was just…

He couldn't rationalize that part away. But it still didn't make sense. Asmo was trying very hard to charm you so he’d invoked more of his power than was normally needed to charm an individual, but he’d never caused a person to bleed. A symptom like that was more like an effect of… A curse.

Asmo felt dizzy.

Those witches and their curse last night. They’d said it was for the demon who wronged him but Asmo had been too drunk to remember the details. Could they have cursed you as well? Were they jealous of you for being so close to him? That was hardly his or your faults. And even drunk, Asmo wouldn't allow the witches to do something like that to an innocent human. Would he?

No, stop!

Asmo practically ran to his private bathroom, throwing on the tub’s faucet as high as it would go. The bathtub couldn't fill fast enough, he was feeling a little envious of Levi’s control over water. The third born could conjure enormous amounts of water at the perfect temperature in seconds. Asmo dumped in two heaping scoops of floral bath salts, turning the water pink and shimmery. The room began to fill with the heady scent of jasmine and roses carried on the water’s steam.

Asmo stripped from his clothes and splashed cold water on his face to clear the drying tear tracks. His bangs hung damp and limp over his forehead. His hands shook as he gripped the edge of the counter. This was not because of him. It couldn't be.

A knock at the bedroom door caused him to freeze.

“Asmodeus?” It was Solomon, sounding muffled through the door.

Asmo schooled his voice into stability. “Yes?”

“I was just checking on you, are you alright?”

“Yes, I am.” he hoped he sounded aloof. “Why wouldn't I be?”

Solomon paused. “Lucifer and Barbatos were concerned. They said you were shaken up about what happened with MC. I wanted to make sure you were ok.”

“Oh. That.” Asmo gave a little laugh although his eyes didn’t show it. “I mean it was a bit of a shock but I’m fine now.” He picked up his clothes and threw them in the hamper in his closet.

Solomon tried the door handle, finding it locked. “Can I come in?”

“That won’t be necessary. I was just getting in the bath.”

There was another pause. Asmo bit his lip. He could never pass up an opportunity for someone to see his perfect body totally nude. Solomon would see right through him. He braced for the response.

“Ok…” said Solomon. “Well if you want to talk, you can always call me on my D.D.D., I guess.” He started to walk away.

“Wait!” Asmo went all the way up to the door but did not open it.

“Yes?” said Solomon.

“Tell me–” Asmo swallowed. “Is MC ok?” He wrapped his arms around himself as he waited for the answer.

“They’re conscious now.” He answered. “Lucifer is trying to get to the bottom of things but it seems like they’ll be alright.”

That was good. Better than good. But he had to know more.

“Was it a curse?” Asmo’s voice shook on the word.

“I don't think so.” Said Solomon. “Not a curse, and not a hex either, if you were wondering.”

Asmo frowned. “But not a human ailment, or you would still be there with them.”

Solomon was silent for a moment, as if he was pondering his answer. “That’s correct. Whatever is wrong with MC is out of my depth,” He said humbly. “But the important thing is that they’re going to be ok.”

Asmo breathed an audible sigh of relief. “Thank you.” His words were almost like a prayer, as much as words said by a demon could be.

As Solomon walked away, Asmo fought the urge to collapse on his bed.

Instead, he made his way back to the bathroom. The tub was finally full, the billowing white steam reminding him of mornings in the Celestial Realm from so long ago, he turned off the faucet.

He tried to ignore the muffled sound of Lucifer and Lord Diavolo who chose at that moment to have their heated conversation in the hall right outside of Asmo’s room. Barbatos’ cool, refined tone joined theirs. The three of them walked away, their voices fading into the distance.

With a deep cleansing breath, Asmo set his D.D.D. on a towel at the side of the tub, and slipped into the warm water.

His D.D.D. vibrated.

It was a text from Lucifer in the brothers’ group chat. Asmo tentatively opened the message.

Lucifer: I would like to inform you all that MC is ok; it seems they used Hell Poison honey in their tea this morning, accidentally poisoned themself. Barbatos has administered an antidote and they will make a full recovery. I trust none of you will disturb them as they rest, however long it takes.

Asmo stared at the message for a long time.

“Poisoned, huh.”

So it hadn't been because of him. Asmo wanted to sink under the perfumed water and never come back up again.

At least now he could rest. All that worrying had been exhausting. Asmo leaned back and closed his eyes, letting the warmth and the scent of flowers take him.

…

Asmo woke hours later from a dreamless sleep. His stomach was growling. He hadn't eaten anything since breakfast and based on the position of the moon in the sky, it was well past dinnertime.

He got out of the tub and quickly toweled himself off. He pinned his bangs back with a couple bobby pins and made his way to the closet. Asmo chose a pair of pink silk pajamas, they were comfy but still beautiful. He rarely got use out of them since he preferred to sleep au naturale.

Stepping into his soft pink slippers, Asmo made his way into the hall and down the stairs. It was an unusually quiet night. He rounded the corner of the hall leading to the kitchen, stopping dead in his tracks at the scene before him.

Three of his brothers sat on the floor, huddled next to your bedroom door. They were sleeping. Beel was in the middle with Levi and Mammon leaning on either side of him, each snoring in their own unique way. A portable gaming device dangled from Levi's hand, the cheerful music from the pause screen playing on a loop.

He glanced at the door. Maybe he should check on you, just in case. He reached for the doorknob.

Soft footsteps descended the back staircase, Asmo turned toward them, pulling his hand back as if the doorknob had burned him.

Satan carried a few blankets in his arms. “It seems MC kicked the three of them out of their room hours ago. I tried to get them to go to bed or even sleep in the common room but they refused.” He whispered. “Did you eat yet?”

“No, I was just about to when I came upon this ridiculous scene.” Asmo rolled his eyes, hoping his body language didn't give him away, he'd already embarrassed himself enough over you today. He took a blanket from Satan and spread it over Mammon. He removed Mammon’s sunglasses, which were hanging crookedly on his face and slipped them into the inside pocket of his leather jacket. “This is a pathetic way for demon lords to behave.”

Satan raised an eyebrow, spreading a blanket across Beel’s lap. “Since when do you care how demon lords behave? I remember you’ve complained over your duties as the Avatar of Lust quite regularly.” Some days Asmo’s laziness could rival Belphie’s if he felt a task didn't benefit him enough to put in the effort.

“It’s– it’s not like that.” Asmo crossed his arms, looking away. “I just don't get why they’re so hung up on this human.”

Satan switched off Levi's gaming device after making sure his progress was saved, setting it down on the floor next to him. “It seems they’ve grown quite fond of MC in the short time they’ve been here. And they’re not the only ones.” Satan took a long look at Asmo.

This time Asmo stared him down. “What are you saying?”

Satan’s face broke into a catlike smirk. He shrugged. “Lord Diavolo and Solomon and Barbatos, not to mention the angels. And even Lucifer was worried about them.”

“And what do you think about them?” Asmo asked, trying to deflect Satan’s observation.

“What do I think about them?” Satan repeated. “I think they’re a decent enough person. And their mere presence disrupts Lucifer’s life, I’m quite pleased about that.”

A very Satan answer.

Asmo’s stomach growled loudly. “Is there anything left of dinner or did Beel get to it first?”

Satan suppressed a laugh. “I left some soup for you on the stove but you’ll have to heat it up.”

After ensuring his older brothers were properly tucked in, Satan went back to his room, leaving Asmo in the dark hall.

Not wasting another moment, Asmo opened your bedroom door and entered quietly.

You were asleep, as expected. Your chest rose and fell evenly, and you snored lightly. Asmo could hear soft, lilting classical music playing from a record. A large, expensive looking bouquet of flowers with a card indicating it was from Lord Diavolo sat on the table behind your bed. Underneath it was a smaller scraggly bouquet made from flowers found in the House of Lamentation’s garden. Judging from the gaudy color choices and clumsy execution, Asmo would guess the tiny bouquet was arranged by Mammon. Next to the bouquets were a few textbooks and carefully copied class notes in Satan’s handwriting. Single serving prepackaged snacks and cakes littered the rest of the table.

Asmo tentatively approached your bed. You were sleeping so peacefully. No doubt assisted by the medicinal tea Barbatos had left on your bedside table. You’d finished almost the entire pot, by now it had long gone cold. A note in Solomon’s handwriting detailed which magical remedies could be mixed with Human World pain relievers, underneath that was a recipe for miso soup. Asmo tore up the recipe and threw it in the wastebasket at the corner of your room. No good could come of making one of Solomon’s recipes, no matter how well-intended.

His stomach growled again, very loudly this time. Asmo froze, expecting you to wake.

But you didn't, you just snuggled even more under the Ruri-chan blanket that had been lovingly draped over you and continued sleeping. That tea was quite effective.

Asmo took the empty teapot with him as he exited your room.

In the kitchen, he turned on the burner underneath the cold soup pot. It would take a few minutes to heat up to an edible temperature so Asmo made himself busy.

He fetched a kettle and filled it with water to boil, setting it on the stove over a burner. Asmo pulled out the canister of medicinal tea Barbatos had left on the counter. He inhaled the herbal, floral scent of the leaves and closed his eyes. He detected several restorative herbs that were effective in healing demons, so surely they would help a human like you. With this and some rest you would get better, he was sure.

He dumped out the spent leaves and replaced them just as the kettle began to boil. Once the freshly boiled water was in the teapot, it would take several minutes to steep the tea.

Asmo dished himself a bowl of soup and pulled up a stool to the counter so he could eat while he waited.

The silence in the house was so deafening. Most nights at this hour Mammon was fighting with Levi, and Beel could often be found rummaging through the kitchen to look for one more thing to eat. Now the three of them kept their sleepy vigil outside your room. When had they all become so focused on you?

It couldn't be their pacts. None of the brothers had ever become so dedicated to a pact owner. The closest was Asmo with Solomon but even then it had never gone to quite this extent. What was so different now?

Asmo couldn't figure it out.

He finished his soup and washed his bowl before picking up the teapot and bringing it to your room. He set it back in its place on your bedside table.

You hadn't moved at all in the time he’d been gone. That was somewhat comforting, it meant you were sleeping soundly. Or at least that’s what he hoped.

Asmo really studied your face this time, something he’d avoided before, afraid it would remind him of what had happened just that afternoon.

Dark circles ringed your eyes. Your complexion, while still ashen, was no longer the disturbing gray color it had been at RAD. The pale moonlight shone through the window, lighting your face.

Asmo clenched his fists. No one had taken the time to do your skincare for you.

He looked to your private bathroom door. Surely you had some sort of skincare routine in place. But there was no way it was anywhere near as good as what he had. Asmo used only the best on his skin.

Suppressing a sigh, Asmo skipped out of your room. He had to do everything around here, didn’t he?

He gathered a small basket of products. Just some micellar water, toner, eye cream, moisturizer, and a lip mask. Minimalism wasn't usually his thing but it would do for now.

He found himself humming as he returned to your room. Silently shushing himself, he entered again and sat slowly on your bed. Now that he'd seen their effect at work, between the medicinal tea and the record, he was sure you wouldn't be waking up anytime soon. He could always use one of Belphie’s sleep spells if you started to stir. It wouldn't be as powerful being cast by Asmo but it would be enough to keep you sleeping if need be.

Asmo washed his hands in your private bathroom and then got to work. He slipped a pink bunny ear headband over your head to push your hair out of your face. He then swiped the micellar water across your skin with a cotton pad. Cleansing was one of the most important steps in a skincare routine. Next he applied the toner and dabbed the eye cream under your eyes, hoping it would alleviate your dark circles. Once he pressed the moisturizer into your skin with his palms, it was time for the lip mask.

He applied the pale pink gel with his ring finger, running it gently across your bottom lip first and then up until it caught on your Cupid's bow. He kept his hand there a moment, taking in the delicate shape and the charming curves. Your lips were so soft, so warm, so unmistakably human. Beautiful.

Asmo withdrew his hand.

Humans were such fascinating and frustrating creatures.

He wiped the remainder of the lip mask off on a cotton pad, still feeling the ghost of your lips on his fingers.

He glanced at you one last time as he shut the door behind him.

***

Cross-posted on AO3

[angelbroad]

"Follow me if you want to live"

Type: Fanfiction

Fandom: One Piece

Characters: Nami, Rusla, Franky Vinsmoke Sanji

Some level of ingenuity in the lab Donquixote Doflamingo had in Punk Hazard, but the Strawhats did not expect it to be such a maze. Nami thought Law would be somewhat useful, and he was, but there were times where she genuinely questioned how certain people tolerated his devil fruit ability. That, and the ability in itself was more off-putting than someone like Moria's. Nevertheless, they had a common goal, and Luffy seemed to trust him so she would too as his Navigator. They needed to destroy this SAD chemical so they would halt Doflamingo's operation, and Nami was always up for making the rich less fortunate.

But now they had come to a new dilemma. In search for the SAD, they had come across what appeared to be a testing room of sorts, and its test subjects were giant children. Despite the room itself seeming comfortable enough for the kids to live in, all it took was footsteps and voices on the other side of a large door for them to beg the group to help them escape. Nami had already decided she would the moment she had laid her eyes on these kids, but the fact that the group did not know what was behind those doors put them in a difficult position.

Until a new crack manifested on another wall. The occupants of the room observed as a new door big enough for the large children to fit through opened and a girl wearing a cloak for protection from the cold weather appeared. She had white skin, brown eyes, and curly blonde hair that reached her elbows. The young girl motioned for them to follow her inside.

"Follow me if you want to live.", she said.

Seeing as they had no other option, the group and the children chose to follow. The blonde girl closed the passage behind them and sprinted in an effort to catch up to the Strawhats.

"Hey kid uh, thanks but who are you?", Franky asked as they were running and trying not to be turned to paste by the giant children.

"My name is Rusla.", the girl answered.

"You live around here?", Sanji asked, clearly unable to focus on just running.

"Hell no. This place is a hazard."

"Trust me, we can tell.", Nami responded, remembering just how wacky this island's biomes were.

The girl's clothes underneath her cape were rugged, pirate-like. So she clearly wasn't a marine, and even if she was a disguised one, the navy wouldn't send someone so young on a mission like this. She looked only around her mid-twenties.

Nami turned her head forward again, "What is this place anyway?"

"Secret passages. In case of an emergency.", Rusla replied.

"And how do you know all this?"

"I've overheard my Captain talk about this with Doflamingo. I don't think they could tell I was listening in."

That made Nami turn her head again, "Your Captain works with Doflamingo?" This could not be good.

"I never thought this patrnership was a good idea, but Captain didn't seem to think my opinion mattered much."

"At least someone in your crew has a brain."

Rusla shook her head, "First Mate's always ignored."

True to her word, Rusla did help them find their way outside, and not towards an ambush by an opposing party. The children also seemed happy to be outside.

"Well, thanks.", Nami had said.

Rusla nodded, and stayed with them for some time after that. Up until the children started to show violent behavioral symptoms, and she had to explain it was because of Ceasar's addictive substance experiments. After Chopper had fixed them an antidote, Rusla explained everything about the SMILE fruits, and it only seemed to help the Strawhats out even more. After all, Law would want leverage over Doflamingo. Why go through all this trouble if otherwise?

"And why are you helping us, exactly?", Nami had finally decided to ask, "I mean, your Captain works with Doflamingo, doesn't make much sense that you want to help us."

Rusla was about to leave before Nami spoke up, but that question made her go back to better explain her situation.

"Listen I...I've been part of that crew for the better part of a decade.", she explained, "And only because I had nowhere else to go, no one to turn to for any assistance. So I put up with anything that was demanded of me, no matter how harsh it was. But now that I'm older I have no excuse, Marineford nailed that down in my head."

"I believe that.", Sanji said.

"Why? Because she's a woman?", Nami asked, annoyed.

"No! Come on, Nami."

Nami grunted, but the girl seemed to have at least some good intentions, and Nami's years of experience as a liar only helped her see through people more clearly. Rusla wouldn't tell them what Captain she was under, but she seemed to know a lot about the operations in Punk Hazard. That could only mean her Captain was one that was very close to the Warlord.

"Will we be seeing you again?", Nami asked, as it looked like the crew and Rusla would now be going their seperate ways.

"Hopefully not.", Rusla replied, "That would mean trouble for all of us."

Nami agreed, and she found herself looking back several times before Rusla's figure disappeared in the icy winds.

[hide-in-imagination]

How do you think the plot of the series would have progressed if Luna and Ambar had stayed in the mansion much longer during the fire, before they come to save them? I mean, they were in the place for quite a long time breathing in the smoke directly, if the firemen got to the place later, it could have turned out much worse. So, back to my question, what do you think would happen next if they had to go to the hospital immediately, because they were already unconscious after inhaling a lot of smoke? I mean it in the sense of Simbar, like how Simon would probably react if he and the boys subsequently came to the mansion and they told them that both Ambar and Luna were in the hospital, etc. I don't know if you didn't already answer a similar question, but after what I this came to mind, I just had to ask my favorite Simbar creator 😅❤️

Anyway, I have to say that I love the new chapter of Roads! Although I cried and I read it for about two hours, because after reading one paragraph I always had to put my phone down and breathe every single sentence I just read, so I love how you described the whole situation, it was really something, incredibly good you described everything and i love it! At the same time, I hate the thought of waiting for the next chapter, but I know that the wait will always be worth it, and especially I can't wait for more updates to your other stories, like Cruel Summer or even a oneshot about Simon. I can't even put into words how much I love your work! And above all, please take care of your health and enjoy the summer! XOXO 💋❤️💞

🥹🥹 I can not explain how much your message meant to me, I genuinely teared up a little 🥹 💕

I'm so happy that you liked the chapter so much 😭 I worked hard on it. It makes me feel so good that the effort payed off. I mean, of course at the end of the day we writers write for ourselves, because we enjoy it, but it really warms our heart when our readers tell us they loved it too 🥹 So thank you so much for that, and thank you for having so much patience with me hahah I know the waits are very long.

I promise to enjoy the summer when I go to Canada, hahah. God, I miss the sun!!

Now, as to your question. I... actually wrote something along those lines already SDLKJFS. SPOILERS, I GUESS. But, um, that's in the universe of one of my works, not in the universe of the actual series, so, I'll answer according to the canon material.

So, I did some research about this, and it is to my understanding that most victims of smoke inhalation would be treated to on site immediately instead of taken to the hospital, either because there was a paramedic with the firefighters or the firefighters called emergency medical services. Now, it sounds way more dramatic if they're taken to the hospital, and I guess they would be if their symptoms were bad enough, so, for drama's sake, let's forget about reality for a second, shall we? 😂

So, I guess the guys would go to the hospital immediately after being informed of what happened. If the girls are conscious and well enough to have visits, they could talk. Since they're rich they might each have their own private room, or they might share because they're legally family, I don't know. Like I said, it depends on how bad their symptoms are. They could just be in observation and have no rooms at all.

I imagine Matteo would make a quip to Luna about how "I know I did this to you once (end up in a hospital bed) but I wasn't expecting you to get even with me." 😂

Simón would be very worried and in Care-taker Mode, and in his case, unlike Matteo, he would probably have to deal more with the emotional damage rather than the psychical one. You know, try to reassure Ámbar that Sharon will be fine (she was taken to the hospital too but is in way worse condition), and support her through her guilt, because she'd probably feel bad for 1- The fact that her godmother burned the mansion, she can't believe she would do that, and 2- What if her godmother dies and the last thing Ámbar did was betray her by telling everyone her plans?

Suffice to say, Ámbar is crying, and that doesn't help her poor lungs that are recovering after being deprived of oxygen, so Simón would try to calm her down, and just, hug her, you know? She needs it. She needs to be held right now.

I imagine the girls would be free to go home after a few hours (their symptoms stabilized so they have no reason to keep them, but they're advised to come back for a check up if any other symptom shows up in the following days), which would bring up the problem of-- Where can they go to? Sure, it's not like the whole mansion burned down, far from it, it was a couple of rooms at most, but that still means damage to the house foundations, and that needs to be checked and secured before they're allowed to go near the area. Not to mention the smoke needs to clear out. Could they use the opposite wing of the mansion? Is it far enough from the damage? Would it be safe enough? Maybe. Tbh I'm not sure. But I do think it'd take at least a day before they're permitted to stay there. And this affects everyone.

I imagine Matteo would be like "You're all coming to my house", but 1- While his dad is rich and the house is big, they can't fit all those people, and 2- Even if they could, Matteo's dad wouldn't permit it, so, I think Simón and Pedro would go to Matteo's house with him (much to Matteo's annoyance because he wanted to help Luna and her family but his dad only allowed the guys to stay) while Mónica, Miguel, and Luna would be received at Nina's house. (Alfredo goes to one of his friend's house. Maybe his girlfriend/not girlfriend?👀 I don't remember that storyline, but you go, Alfredo, take the chance to flirt.)

I imagine Rey and Maggie have their own apartments so they would be fine (Or they would be held in jail, I don't know, I honestly don't care sdfjn)

Where does Ámbar go though? skjdfn. I guess Matteo's dad could be convinced to let her stay as well. After all, he knows Ámbar from when she used to date his son, and he probably approved of the relationship because of her high status, so he might have no issue with her staying. Hell, maybe he would even want Matteo to get back together with her 😂 But it becomes clear very soon that she's dating that other guy Simón now, and plus, Luna is the new heir of the Benson fortune, so he approves of Luna now (status-seeking money-leech).

((Was it ever mentioned what Matteo's dad thought of Lutteo?😂 I don't remember and I don't care. If my estimations are contradicted by canon, sue me, I'm not re-watching Matteo's scenes))

I would love it if this forced Simón and Ámbar to share a room 😂 But I'm sure that wouldn't be the case. The guys would offer to share one so that Ámbar could be comfortable on her own.

(Although, Simón could sneak into her room after everyone goes to sleep...👀 It was a very tough day for her and maybe Ámbar would appreciate not having to sleep alone. Just a thought.)

After that, the mansion is deemed safe enough to be inhabited again (as long as they stay clear of the damage zone, which they'll have to start working on repairs for, obviously) and everything goes back to pretty much normal.

That's all I can imagine, anon. I hope it served your curiosity ❤️🫶

[ofmymuses]

heads up! below the cut is long and personal (probably oversharing too KSDFJH)—

hi friends!! i'm in the mood to word vomit about the past few months so, here goes nothing~ if you have any comments or questions or anything like that, both my dms and inbox are open ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ ♡

so, i've been in a transitional "era"(?) for the past few months as i try to navigate a whoooole lot of change - too much change almost. i won't get super into it rn but one of the changes is that i've recently made the decision to stop my antidepressants.. and let me tell you.......... it's been an experience; like i said above, i'm trying to navigate all of these new thoughts and feelings since coming off

obviously i've noticed a big change in myself - mostly with how i think and how i feel emotions. i can't afford therapy right now so i've been talking to my best friends and my fiancé instead and we all agreed that i have bpd (they're diagnosed with bpd so i very much trust their opinions). despite this, i'm still going to get professionally diagnosed once i save enough money to do so. regardless of what it is, i've known that my brain's wiring is different for some time now so i can't say i'll be very surprised

i don't think i ever really showed symptoms of bpd before because i was medicated, you know? but now that i'm off of it, my true self is shining more. it's been interesting learning new things about myself. it's honestly really cool learning things about myself that i didn't know before. but i (desperately) need to learn how to manage all of these new experiences because i've never dealt with them before. i'd been on meds for....... god. a very long time. if anyone has any recommendations for videos or books or posts about managing bpd or anything along those lines, i would appreciate them being sent my way!! i probably won't publicly answer them so that i can save them so thank you in advance to anyone who sends resources my way ♡♡

something i also wanted to quickly note is my fiancé.. so, as you may know, i broke up with my long-term boyfriend back in the summertime and shortly after that, i met the literal light of my life. we met at school but how we "met" was just us looking at each other across the room and smiling. i eventually wrote him a little note that i liked his art and when i went to the washroom, he slipped one back saying that he really likes my smile and the rest is history 🥺 we just recently moved in together into the cutest little apartment we went to the mall not long ago and we were looking at one of the merchandiser's jewelry and he jokingly said something along the lines of: "i would ask you to marry me with one of these $10 rings, i don't care" and i said back "and i would say yes" so he told me to pick one out and i picked up the first one that caught my eye (it resembles a tiara with a blue heart in the middle + white crystals going across).. at this point, the cashier was almost done ringing up his order so i had to pick quickly and it turned out that the one that had caught my eye fit perfectly on my ring finger. so i took that as the biggest sign of approval and went with that one. later that night, i got him to help me adjust it and as he was giving it back, i told him to ask before giving it back (mostly as a joke) so he got on one knee and "proposed" before sliding it on my finger. technically, it was a proposal and i did accept but we're seeing it as more of a promise ring until he can get an actual ring. but i still like to call him my fiancé and he calls me his girl + his wife and i'm just :'')) very happy

sooooooooooooooo, yeah! that's pretty much all i wanted to dump DFGKHGJ this year has been the biggest transition of my life but i finally feel like i'm where i'm supposed to be. i don't know if this is going to make any sense but the person i created myself to be in order to fit in growing up doesn't fit the environment i feel i'm supposed to be in so unlearning everything and letting my authentic self come out has been challenging but so rewarding. it has made me a bit sad that a few of my family members have been worried about me because imo, there's nothing to worry about. but anyway

i feel like i could go on and on about the shit that's been going on but one or two topics is enough for now. so thank you for reading my brain dump! i hope you have a lovely rest of the weekend 🥰

(also i didn't proofread this so please ignore any mistakes)

[stardust-in-my-mind-blog]

my son of the driest wit

my son is eleven

one of my lucky numbers

he has my eyes and my sensitivity and a mind like mine

he sings with me and he's one of my greatest fans

he tells me his friends think I'm cool which is nice

kids are really honest and I trust them more than most

he's also sick this week and keeps surprising me

because when you're sick everyone turns into a child

and sometimes he's eleven or sometimes he's younger

when the symptoms are overwhelming

he feels things with such intensity and I remind him

that we are running gaming computers in our heads

so we get better graphics but it also takes more energy

luckily I said it in a way that makes sense to him

he likes his neurodiverse kind of brain now

didn't so much like it when it made him so different

but he has a group of friends that love his humor

and he constantly surprises me with how he thinks

today I got to tell him the story of finding out about him

he's always known he was a surprise in my plans

but I've always told all of them they came from the stars

and I was lucky they chose me as a mom

because he's sick he wants me near

he's not really a cuddly guy and gets overstimulated easily

but when he's sick that all disappears

he wants to lay next to me and hold my hand

and so I told him that I'd tell him that story

what was going on in my life and how

his father and I broke up after three months

and knew we just did not work as partners

but ended up finding out we'd created something

I told him about a man I loved and had gone to visit

before I found out and confirmed I had a passenger

he enjoyed hearing about it and told me

as I was telling him about different adventures

me and this man had gotten ourselves into

that he could imagine it in his mind

I think he was seeing me as a different character

not just as the mother he loved but the woman I was

before I decided to change my life completely

before I decided to change myself completely

it was the role I was going to take the most seriously

and I told him about how sometimes

you can love two things just as desperately

but you end up having to choose just one

I hadn't told him about this before

he wasn't really old enough to grasp the complexity

and I underestimated him even tonight

I told him how I'd wrote this email to him that was

at least a small novel about all my feelings

and I've obviously always had plenty of them

I linked a song and I think put lyrics and just

tore my heart out and smeared it all over my computer

and how this freaking guy wrote back

"you got four days"

yeah, that was it and that was a common dynamic

and he laughed at that because he has a friend

that's also a girl with a lot of feelings and a lot of words

to tell him all about them and he doesn't always

know what to do with all of it but he still likes to listen

I think he liked seeing me like that too

he likes to see me as all my selves which I'm still learning

I kind of thought I was supposed to play

this perfect mother role so that's something to think about

I told him I had four days to visit because this man

was leaving to go to war in a desert like his own dad had

so I went and visited and that love we couldn't quite

figure out but always had was still there

and to my son I said, still kind of bewildered to know

even though I lived it and I knew it but to say it

somehow gave it a new meaning and a new feeling

"when I told him I was pregnant he said something to me..."

and this kid didn't even miss a beat and left me laughing

"did he offer to buy you some plan B?"

and he said it with curiosity and not a lick of judgement

I don't even think he knew why I was laughing

fuck I'm still laughing because it's so logical

and when I got myself together I shook my head

and told him that the man offered to help me raise him

I'd already framed the whole thing kind of like a folk story

as a joke to keep everything light and upbeat

and I let him sit with that a moment but he didn't say anything

and then I went on to tell him about how

I made the choice for him because he had friends

and family and a life that he'd leave to come here

and it wouldn't have made him happy back then

at least that is what I had decided and I knew

I had to at least try to make a family with his dad

that also wasn't quite ready but we all

did the best with what we had to work with

there was good and bad and ugly and it didn't work

and the kids are very aware of why their father and I

just did not have the same way of thinking about anything

except how much we loved them and wanted to give them

the life we never got to have as kids because our parents

also didn't have what they needed to make things work

in a way that gave us all what we needed at their age

and to this day I get to watch my children trust the world

with arms wide open and make friends and take chances

he wanted to hear more so I told more stories

and it was fun because I got to see things in a whole new way

I got to tell him about my poetry and a loyal reader

that turned out to be a best friend holding my hand

and he thought that was the coolest thing in the world

for someone to do for his mother that he now knew more of

it's a really cool story and I like being part of it

and that's kind of a new role

[hadtochangeuserbecauseimparanoid]

One thing that has been a big theme and roadblock in my healing process lately is how much I hate how much I talk. Like, I probably hate myself for it more than anyone else does, and I've said stupid shit so you can only imagine. I've noticed how bad I am at interrupting when I get excited or think someone is misunderstanding and I legitimately still can't catch myself every time, part of it is it sadly triggers babe so he doesn't respond in a way that I respond internally well to. I end up beating myself up for it and just trying to instill in my mind to stop talking at all so I can't ever again. And of course I have adhd so it will never stick, plus I know its not healthy to 100% shut up forever so I break it eventually. I honestly just have so much trauma around being autistic and missing social queues, not seeing perspectives fully in the moment because I get defensive, not being shown healthy examples of stuff growing up ect, so I ruined relationships and friendships, and I've gotten so much better but I still interrupt and I still ramble where even I notice and hate how much I repeat myself and I don't know how to notice and stop. My brain has always output like a fucking jambalaya of words that would make much more sense in a different order, I don't know why, I have psychosis symptoms bc of bpd so maybe it's that dysreguleting my speech. And I hate when I interrupt each time I want to kill myself because it's always bc I misunderstood and then babe forgets what he was saying and it's always met with an awkward silence. Like I just want to rip my vocal cords out sometimes so I literally can't ever do that again I never mean to do it but I don't know why until after it's pointed out. And it feels so stupid this has been an addressed issue for almost two years like. I'm lucky we are extremely communicative and healthy because I really need this place to vent this without him seeing it dude, I don't want him to feel bad ever for any of it, his dad always fucking interrupted him I've seen it, usually bc he gets defensive or "knows more" and I do it there too (not bad but like, if he is critiquing a song and I happen to like q thing I'll interrupt and he'll forget the point yk). He should never feel bad for letting me know he wants me to work on being mindful of it, it's just so hard woth stuff like that and catch myself ig. I don't see how I didn't even care enough to interrupt until after and I hope trying to note it here can help me notice before more. I have already quite a few times I've just been slipping lately balancing that with other things I'm working on ect.

I just do hate how much it makes me want to fucking kill myself though, I have compounded so much of my trauma around that one personality trait of mine. I'm extremely talkative, I always have been, no one liked me because of it, I would sing out loud in class to myself until 5th grade, then I stopped talking because I realized why I was bullied, go figure. Then I started dating and that was just a flurry of examples as to why I should just shut up and maybe kill myself because I can't seem to figure out how to talk without annoying someone or making someone feel bad without meaning to. or when I was younger just straight up not having manners with friends parents. I just, I'm so tired of being myself dude. I'm tired of genuinely and soley feeling like a burden in other's lives. I can barely take care of myself financially because of my disabilities on top of it all, I'm hoping to get a job that I can do soon but time will tell.

There's just so much constantly on my mind and nowhere to put it, and at the core of it it's not just me hating myself for the mistakes I've made and could continue to, it's also just that I've started to hate my bubblyness, my passion, the level of emotion I feel no matter the emotion, and in the end being alive with the personality and cocktail of disorders I was given. I don't know if when I heal I will even love myself thereafter. I don't know if healed me will still be considered very talkative, I don't want to be annoying or even very talkative, and I have so much to say. I don't think I could ever find people who match this level of energy either I just don't. And I can't bear to keep existing this way with only people around me who would eventually grow tired of my high energy, I don't know if other people I could be friends with exist, I also haven't fully opened the gates to anyone I know rn but beeb and a little to the pl00g bc he's chill and a good friend. But even he mentally goes "okay that's enough slices" when I talk and I know it. Like, idk what to do hahahahaahahah.

Anyways since this is going to my secondary instead, now to make food I don't want and food for babe and then after I'll sit in party silently playing stardew, hearing him have fun talking a storm with his friends. And when we get done with the day, bc we don't have bud to go take smoke breaks, we'll talk again while going to sleep, and I'll inevitably talk enough to either interrupt again, or just talk enough to where he asks me to let him sleep, oooooo or I'll show him something while he's in a safe place in game and he will barely glance then immediately start talking to the boys in party and I'll want to kill myself all over again. And I'm tired of that. Need to find a way to communicate that, tried recently, did not work, he did not understand what level of "things that would make me feel like I'm not being heard or being looked at negatively for anything I did vocally that isn't obviously a thing that needs to be angry towards" or whatever wasn't specific enough. It really isn't, but idk what more to add or change to elaborate better. I also have been asking for quality time but we need money for most anything bc even driving to a place we could have a picnic or forage. I like just talking too but like, what is there to talk about. Snuggling makes him fall asleep. And smoking seshes are typically rushed bc he's in lobby for a game his friends are waiting to start. Where at this point do we get to spend time? Meals? He eats while playing at this point, I try but if lots of people are on he doesn't wanna get off or that might not all be back on for a while. And I get that but it's to a point I've almost given up until money isn't an excuse.

Idk I'm just also a little heartbroken because I don't have any clue how to say any of this. I don't know if anything would even change because like I said, what would we do? I don't want to just play games together I want to be present in reality together more often, but we can't do shit when we're broke.

I don't know why I'm still typing anymore honestly. I need to go make us food I don't even want. Don't have any time to cry in the bathroom either bc I have to face babes mom and dad face on upon exit, and they're probably home by now :)

[zgvlt]

capture my heart, my voice into art sebek zigvolt x reader

summary: As payment for his help in class, you offer to draw something for Sebek. As the weeks go by, it gets difficult to pretend that you're still drawing Malleus and he's only talking to you about his Young Master. Neither of you do a good job at pretending.

tags: gender neutral reader, sfw, fluff, classmates to friends to lovers, 6.0k+ words, not beta read

author’s note (see end notes for more): The first fic to a mini-series I'm making based on the five senses! The prompt for this fic is the sense of "sound/hearing"

[you can also read this on AO3]

Sebek Zigvolt is, in every shape and form, terribly obvious with showing his interest. Not the most verbally honest, though he usually is rather blunt about everything, but still honest — everyone can tell with his expressive face (the eyes, the mouth, the eyebrows), his stance (he moves with his whole body), and his voice (his words do not always reflect back on his tone).

Sebek is oblivious to this aspect of himself, or perhaps interprets it in a different way — it's only passion and devotion, is it not? 

There is truth to that statement of course, but you can tell he expects that analysis of him to be about his Young Master, the Malleus Draconia, other adjectives omitted. After all, he's aware that he's known to be a person whose prime interest is Malleus, and he is proud of that. 

It's just that he doesn't seem to be aware that those same symptoms of interest are beginning to leak again in the face of someone else entirely.

Sebek is a person who appreciates talent, can take the time to praise it even coming from someone who isn't fae — Epel Felmier would be an example. Sebek is also a person who, upset as he is to admit it, has difficulties with the more subjective, abstract subjects, to wit: the arts, and anything to do with creativity and imagination over formulas or instructions.

Unfortunate. If he were an artist, he would certainly create portraits upon portraits of his Young Master, maybe even create sculptures or, best yet, gargoyles. 

He supposed not everyone could be as talented as the prince, after all.

Despite his inadequacies, Sebek did take an interest in art, and that was how he found himself taking an interest in you.

You usually sat near him — out of coincidence, he assumed — and now and then you would ask him to repeat things the professors had said, clarifications on instructions you had potentially misheard. He, of course, chided you for not listening properly — or perhaps it had to do with your human hearing. Nevertheless, he would repeat everything previously dictated perfectly.

He knows it's perfect because you don't ask him to repeat it again, clearly satisfied. Of course you are! Receiving help from a student like him?

And then Sebek... worries, just a bit. He will call it sympathy (or pity) if asked, but it's worry. He's a natural worrywart, so when you keep asking him to repeat things, or when a wave of confusion or concern flashes over your face, his natural instinct is to act on it. He is a knight (to-be) after all, isn't it okay for him to want to help, even if it's not directly tied to his duties to the heir of the crown?

"Hopefully I got everything..." you murmured, flipping through your notes as soon as class ended. Sebek thinks back to the few times he looked at you the past hour, the way your eyebrows would furrow and the occasional huh you would whisper, and he knows that no, you didn't.

Sebek sighed, almost like it was a chore for him, and said, "let me take a look, human! I'm sure you must have missed out on something again."

"Thank you, Sebek." 

Sebek is used to people rolling their eyes at him, or even blatantly covering their ears, so it's odd when you simply smile and hand him your notebook, like you're relieved to have his assistance... as you should be, and it's good that you recognize that! It showed you have far more awareness than most humans. Still, it doesn't make it any less baffling for him.

"Surprisingly, most of what you've written matches my notes," he said, and promptly ignored the way you seemed delighted by such a fact. It was just notes, it wasn't an achievement or anything, "but you're missing a few key details, i.e., two ingredients for the potion — the geranium and mint."

"Geranium and mint..." you retrieved your notebook from him, your pencil immediately meeting the paper as you began to sketch a flower — Sebek will assume it's a geranium, since mint is more herb and leaves than flower. 

That was another thing he noticed about you — you liked to draw. He saw it on occasion, the motion of your hand indicating you were sketching something as opposed to writing, but this was the first time he had actually seen you at work. 

“Drawing, huh,” Sebek said, subconsciously peering over your shoulder to get a closer look — only because he had been (note: put himself) in charge of making sure you had been writing down the right things. “It’s a useful talent, being good at art.”

You hummed, throwing him an inquisitive glance. “You’re not going to scold me for doing something unnecessary? Every plant in the room is labeled so it’s not like I actually need to draw this.”

“So you mean the bare minimum? Clearly, human, what you’re doing simply elevates your work above everyone else’s! What if we had a test where we needed to identify the ingredients, and Professor Crewel got rid of the labels to test us? To have a reference image without having it developed or looking at a book is excellent thinking!” Sebek explained for you, failing to notice your look of bewilderment. “Now, if only you could listen more attentively to the professor, I’m sure your work would be on par with mine!”

“That’s more difficult than you think, maybe because I have human hearing,” you said with a laugh, although Sebek did think it a possible reason, “so I hope you don’t mind if I keep asking you for your notes after class. Can I look at your analytical magic notes as well?”

“I should really be going back to the dorm now. I don’t know about your after-school responsibilities, human, but I still have to attend to my duties to the Young Master, and you’re holding me back!” he complained, already bringing out a black notebook. “But it’d be troublesome if you fail the exam tomorrow because you missed something important! Heh! Aren’t you so glad to have a responsible classmate like me, human?!”

“Definitely,” you replied, not even hesitating as you swiped the notebook from his hand, “but if you really need to go, you can just leave this with me, then–”

“Out of the question,” Sebek interrupted, “so hurry up, human!”

“Okay, okay, just a minute!” And then Sebek started counting down from 60 in his head, deciding to take it literally as opposed to the figure of speech. 

… 57, 56, 55, 54, 53–

“You know,” you spoke up, just after eight seconds of writing, “I feel kind of bad for taking up your time like this. I feel like I should pay you back somehow.”

“You absolutely should, and it’s good that even a human like you can realize that! But should is different than could, and I question what you’d be able to give me in the first place.”

“It’s a useful talent, being good at art,” you repeated his own words back to him. “And before you say anything, of course I was listening. Your voice is loud enough to hear at any distance, you know?”

Unable to determine whether the latter part was a compliment or insult, he decided to ignore it by taking it as a fact that everyone was simply too quiet by comparison; thus, he focused on the former point instead. Sebek thought about it — while he’s never seen you draw anything else other than a flower and some leaves, though something gave him the impression that you did draw other things during class, your offer carried a hint of determination that Sebek could admire, even if there was barely any basis to prove the extent of your capabilities.  

The first year took another glance at your alchemy notebook — well, he at least liked the way you drew the ingredients. He wouldn’t have brought it up otherwise.

“I could draw you.”

“Just why would I want my likeness taken? There’s no reason for it — I don’t have anyone to give it to,” Sebek asked with confusion, one that you mirrored as you absorbed his reply.

“What? Why would you give…? I mean, is it not the typical request to have a drawing done of you — not of you you, mind you, I mean for someone to request a drawing of themselves?”

“Is it? That’s odd, I doubt that many people in this college are in the midst of courting someone,” and even if they were, would they even have the eloquence to court someone as properly as I would? Sebek sighed — no wonder a majority of these students weren’t in relationships — it wasn’t just that they wanted to focus on their studies like him, but that they were unable to get someone to agree to become their partner. 

That aside, even if one wanted to get a portrait or sketch done, there were far better options for the subject choice. 

“That said, I wouldn’t be against a well-meaning attempt at drawing the Young Master,” Sebek suggested. It was not a requirement per say — if you said you wouldn’t be able to, he would understand it; after all, it was difficult to actually capture the prince’s greatness in one still frame, but was not any paper or canvas with said prince’s likeness great? That was why he would appreciate even the attempt itself, if you agreed.

“I should have expected this,” you replied, a tinge of amusement laced in your voice, “like I could, if you want, but I don’t have a good frame of reference. It’s not like I have the opportunity to get up close and personal with him.”

“Well I’m not giving you a chance to do so either,” he huffed, “so don’t expect that out of this exchange, human! However, I will allow you to go to my room to check the portrait of the Young Master I have displayed! I believe that will make sufficient reference, yes? And, to make sure you are not lacking in passion, I will talk about the Young Master to inspire you!”

A part of him wondered if you would refuse. He knew a lot of people were unappreciative, blind to the splendor of the Great Malleus Draconia, so while he would be appalled he would not be surprised. However, after a minute of you looking down at his notebook, you made eye contact with him once more and nodded.

“If you don’t think I’ll be a disturbance, I’d be glad to.”

There weren’t enough people in school willing to listen to him talk about his Young Master Malleus, so he was more than just a little exhilarated at the opportunity to talk to someone, even if it was just so he could inspire you to draw his dorm leader to the best of your abilities. 

Sebek enjoyed stories, not just reading but telling them as well. That was to say, Sebek, a person who had a lot to say about anything and everything, genuinely enjoyed having someone to talk to, and it just so happened that of all possible topics, he found that talking about the tales of the Malleus Draconia’s Martial Might would not only be the most interesting for him, but for everyone else as well.

Not only was it interesting, but it was incredibly easy for him to recount everything without so much a reference on hand. Reciting everything from memory, allowing him the freedom to move as animatedly as possible and subconsciously showing off his own talent for martial arts — the motion of his hands as he (the best he could with the space in the room) recreated any poses or actions that you might have difficulty imagining from his words alone, eventually standing up to demonstrate a kick or two himself. He would argue he still had a long way to go, though. 

Still, what was even more eye-catching about Sebek at that moment was not his athletic prowess or memory, but his face — a handsome face, yes, but it was always a sight to behold when his serious (or as others would describe, intimidating resting face) expression turned beatific, beaming with pride over Malleus’ achievements and abilities as though they were his own, or perhaps because they represented a goal for him to accomplish, a greatness he wished to become. 

Whatever it was, it lit Sebek’s eyes up like lightning to a stormy sky, and with the lightning came the booming thunder of his voice, loud and yet, paired with his jubilant mood and exuberant expression, it was difficult to find it terrifying. 

(But if you were to be asked, with how often he’s helped you, when was the last time you’ve found him terrifying?)

Unbeknownst to him, he made for quite the captivating sight.

And then, approximately an hour into retelling the first part of his story, he finally noticed it — he understood that looking at the speaker while they were talking was the polite thing to do, just as he was predominantly looking at you as his audience, but you’d hardly glanced at the portrait on the wall! Had you looked while he was looking away? Not impossible, but improbable — he made sure to keep his eyes on you, not looking away for more than a few seconds at a time, so he would have known! Did you not think it was a good painting?

“Is there a problem, human?” Sebek asked suddenly. You had barely asked him any questions but you were drawing in your sketchbook, so he didn’t think you were distracted or uninterested or anything of the sort, but why would you stare at him so inquisitively if not to question him? “You keep staring at me. Do you take issue with something I’ve said, or maybe you’re not sure if you heard right? I know Young Master Malleus’ skills sound otherworldly, but you need not to see to believe, I assure you they are the absolute truth!!!”

“A problem…?” you muttered quietly, or at least quietly by Sebek’s standards. You seemed torn about whether to actually speak up or not, before eventually deciding that you should. “I suppose there is one, but it has nothing to do with you… or your Young Master! It’s just getting late, isn’t it? I should probably go and actually start that essay we have due tomorrow.”

Right. There were obligations to be fulfilled — schoolwork on both of your ends, and his own guard duties that would resume once more for dinnertime. Still, he could not help himself from being the slightest bit upset, a feeling he couldn’t quite keep to himself.

“That’s… unfortunate. I was nearly done with the first part of the tale,” Sebek claimed, frowning as he stood up, already having accepted that he should escort you out of his dorm room. “I was getting to the best scene of that part, too…”

No more than a minute had passed before you made your offer, “I can come back tomorrow?”

Sebek perked up immediately, unaware that his excitement was bleeding through his face.

“Do you want — are you able to?”

“It feels like I should be asking you that,” you replied, shutting your sketchbook tightly, “since you’re so busy all the time… I mean it doesn’t have to be tomorrow, but I can come back to… have more time to refine my sketch and to, you know, listen to you.” At that, Sebek grins, teeth all on display and eyes once more alight. Perhaps lightning does strike twice in the same place.

When exactly did he begin anticipating your presence? When did he start saving snacks in his drawers instead of eating them, storing them to share with you when you came over?

“If you could change one thing about yourself, what would it be? For me…”

Your sketchbook laid atop his desk, untouched for what must have been twenty minutes — or, practically since the time of your arrival.  

When did he stop asking you about when you’d finish the sketch (sketches? There had to be more than one at this point), and when did he stop caring about how fast he got through his recount of his Young Master’s achievements? When did he start looking forward to the random exciting and yet mundane conversations he shared with you instead? 

And why did it delight him that he was capable of sharing conversations with you outside of his Young Master and outside of academics?

“If I have something I’m lacking in — obviously there’s many things, as I’m far too young to compare to the Young Master and Master Lilia — I just work hard to improve myself,” Sebek replied. Neither of you seemed completely satisfied with his answer, probably because Sebek knew it wasn’t quite right. Not that he owed to you any story or secret about himself, but he supposed he could mention one thing.

“...Although, back when I was younger, I used to pull up my ears a lot, hoping it would look the same as my mother, and the Young Master, and…” and everyone else in the Valley. “Of course, I know now that you can’t change things like that without magic or potions, and certainly not for good!”

You looked up from the papers in your hand, choosing to look at him again, like you tended to do when you were in his dorm room. It still baffled him why you looked at him a lot (was it really just out of politeness?), but he never bothered to tell you to stop for reasons he couldn’t quite understand himself. 

The sound of papers shuffling in your hand prevented silence from encompassing the room. Homework. The both of you were supposed to be doing homework. How did the both of you get here?

“I think I get where you’re coming from,” you commented, “but if you ask me, you’re already fine, though.”

“Fine?”

“As in good. Physical appearance wise, aren’t you already good as you are?” you let out a non-condescending laugh, “I mean, maybe you could let your hair down, it’s always good to let your hair rest from products every now and then, but hey! If having it up is more convenient for you!”

He didn’t really register that part about his hair (although he did hear it, and he might think about it eventually), a little too focused on the first part. He felt like a fool — his heart was thumping, and it was a comment about his ears for crying out loud! Get yourself together, Sebek Zigvolt!

“Compliments are unnecessary, human. I’m already helping you anyway, I’m not going to stop because of some lack of praise on your end!” Not that there was a lack of praise. It embarrassed him at times, how easily the praise and gratitude came from your end, and yet he still looked at you expectantly for it every time he did something to help you, or did anything he thought admirable in general.

“Except I’m not complimenting you just because,” you insisted, a firm gentleness to your tone, “we’re friends now, aren’t we? I’m just letting you know what I think.”

“Friends! How bold to attach a label like that just on your own!” he exclaimed, and yet he did nothing to discourage it. 

He and Silver were the only two people from Briar Valley born in the same generation, and he would rather drink black coffee (without the milk!) than admit that guy was his friend… which meant that, for Sebek, friends were incredibly few and far between. He never quite considered the importance of having any close confidants, everyone too unworthy, and yet… Friend. It was a label that felt right to describe what relationship he had with you at this moment.

Yes, he supposed there was no shame in having a human friend, not if that friend was you.

He hadn’t known that you and Silver shared a class together. While he knew he shared almost every class with you, hard not to notice when you went from sitting near him to right beside him at every given opportunity, he hadn’t realized the one exception had been a class with Silver. Not that it mattered, he just naturally assumed that because the two of you were in different years…

There really wasn’t an issue with you being classmates with Silver… or there wasn’t going to be, until his fellow guard asked you a question.

“Aren’t you in the same grade as Sebek?”

“Mhm, classmates, even.”

“Really? Then, what do you think about him? Isn’t his voice the most annoying you’ve ever heard?”

Sebek held his breath, stopping himself from barging into the conversation uninvited, even if the conversation was about him in the first place. He stood still against the wall, hiding — since when did he start hiding? — from a person he grew up with in Briar Valley, and from a person he actually considered a friend, a label he attached to you in his head. It was too quiet, he wished either one of you would be a little louder.

“What? Of course not!” you replied, as though you hadn’t even thought of it. He can’t see you from his position, and he’s unwilling to sneak a peek in the case that you coincidentally lock eyes with him, but he thought you at least sounded genuine. Really, you could have stopped there and Sebek would have been able to move on with his day, but you just had to add one more thing.

“Actually, I like his voice a lot,” you admitted, and Sebek loathed that he couldn’t hear what else you had said thereafter — was he too far away? Were you whispering? Today in particular, couldn’t his hearing have been more fae-like? Silver might have said something, too, but he hardly cared about that now, couldn’t care less about why Silver even said such a thing in the first place.

You liked his voice — something that was a part of him, and something that was more than just his usefulness to you, something outside of his identity as Malleus Draconia’s guard. Sure, you mentioned being fine with other aspects of him, but it was one thing to say it to his face, where he could pin it on politeness and a desire to curry favor, and it was a different thing to say it to someone else, not knowing he was just around the corner listening.

There was a part of him that wanted to reprimand himself — him and not you, although he wished he could still blame you for the things you make him do, the things you make him feel. It was always easier to blame you because you were human, you and your humanity that was as warm as sunlight, but if he had blamed you then it would not be instinctive but forced. 

He detested the sudden surge of affection he felt for you then and there. Aside from the fact that it was so simple a statement that he should have felt nothing at all, he hated how he appreciated being seen as someone apart from his Young Master’s guard and devotee. He’s always felt pride in being associated with the prince, so why did it suddenly matter that he wanted to be more than just that classmate you always went to for help, that classmate who was dedicated to Malleus Draconia, when it came to you? 

However, even with the bouts of self-admonishment and confusion, he didn’t do much of anything to stop himself from feeling exhilarated at such modest and meager praise. Sebek was never exactly insecure about his voice, he was proud and always spoke loud enough to be heard, but he still knew what people said about his volume, even if he didn’t necessarily agree. Why did it matter if people thought differently? Why should it matter if he was liked by the human populace? 

Perhaps that was partly why the comment caught him so off-guard. How unexpected it was, how you committed to not simply finding it alright, but to liking it!

Simply put, he was electrified by you. There was the shock that stuck with him for what felt like eons but what must’ve been minutes, something so difficult for him to comprehend, and then the shock died down to what it was now — tingles, all over his body and even his mind. It must have infiltrated his mind as well, for even when he willed himself to finally walk away from the scene he couldn’t quite stop thinking about you, to the point that he had missed the knowing stare Silver had thrown his way as he passed.

Sebek wondered if there were other things you liked about him, and with a newfound desperation he wished he could find out without having to actually ask, for pride’s sake.

Sebek’s never been that aware of his voice before, but because of your words he’s been rendered conscious of it. As he told you about his training today (actually, he was supposed to continue with the fourth part of Young Master Malleus’ Martial Might, but you ended up asking about his day so he ended up deviating from that), Sebek wondered — did his voice sound nice today, and did you like it today as well? 

In his head, he thought himself quite foolish again for not having gotten over it, but since that day it, and by association you, was all he could really think about when he had nothing else to keep him occupied. 

It was strange. He had always assumed thinking of someone who wasn’t Malleus or Lilia would be nothing but a distraction, but that hadn’t been the case. Funnily enough, you had not distracted him at all — rather, he was quite motivated to finish all his tasks so he could have free time to either talk to you or think about you.

He hadn’t tried very hard to stop himself from thinking about you. It was normal to think about things that bother you, and he was no longer that cowardly kid who ran away from things that scared him. In fact, he actually quite indulged himself in imagining what exactly you thought of him.

Did you actually like listening to him talk? Or did you just like the sound of his voice? He knew holding your attention wasn’t something guaranteed, but he’d like it if you paid attention to the times he told you about his childhood or his family, or a memory that he happened to recall while talking to you. 

If you liked the sound of his voice… what did you like about it? Was it the volume? A tone or accent he wasn’t too aware of? Maybe pacing or pronunciation? 

Then there was your voice — Sebek found he quite liked it as well, although unlike you he’s never voiced that opinion out to anyone. You didn’t talk much the first time he brought you to his room to show you the portrait, but the more times you sat down with him on the floor or atop his bed you talked to him more and belatedly, Sebek realized there was something in particular he liked about you — when you talked to him, listened to him, you made it a point to at least lock eyes with him for a few seconds. Even when you weren’t looking into his eyes, your eyes were still on him.

Sebek liked that you looked at him, an intimacy he’s only ever read about and imagined for himself far into the future, but never thought he would get a glimpse of now. It almost felt wrong — shouldn’t these types of feelings be reserved for those in relationships? That was always what he was taught, but the thought of being liked by you in some way or another felt too good to pass up. 

Sebek wanted you to keep looking at him, so just as he was coming to terms with the fact that there were things — many things, so it seemed — he liked about you, the way you kept looking down at your sketchbook whenever he opened his mouth gave way to a bitter taste whenever he closed it. It was annoying, and he wasn’t sure what displeased him more — that you’ve been drawing so much today, or himself for being annoyed that you were drawing his Young Master. He was the one who asked for it, wasn’t he?

At the same time, he was talking about himself and not retelling a tale, so he wasn’t exactly talking to inspire you, was he? When he asked about your day he listened quite attentively, so he would at least like the same courtesy extended to him.

“Human, you’re not being very polite right now!” he scolded, attempting to mask his own frustrations. It wasn’t going too well — Sebek had come off as insulted, glaring at the object atop your lap as though it had personally offended him, and, unbeknownst to him, jealous. “Right now, shouldn’t you be paying attention to me and me alone?”

“I am–”

“Not completely,” he countered, quickly swiping the sketchbook while you were too busy being surprised at his change of attitude. A part of him did feel bad — he knew he was just as impolite to do as such, and you’ve told him before that it was rude to peek without permission, so he loosened his grip in case you wanted it back immediately. “Can’t you just continue this later? What needs your attention so much that you have to sketch while we’re–”

“Wait, Sebek, just let me close it!”

“Close it? Surely I can do that for you,” Sebek sighed, looking down to shut the cover quickly, only briefly getting a glimpse of the page with a smiling man and–

Sebek looked back up to watch your expression shift into one of fluttering embarrassment, a fluster that only affirmed that he had not been affected by an illusion or some newly discovered delusion of his. He knew what his young master looked like better than most people, and that hornless, human-eared boy on the page was no Malleus Draconia.

Oh.

“Could I…?” he asked, even though he had already seen — perhaps he just wanted to confirm it really was him you’ve been drawing, and maybe just for your sake as well. He thought you’d prefer it if he asked anyway.

You reached out a hand, still not making eye contact with him, turning to one of the first few pages with drawings from far earlier. The page you flipped to had a sketch of the First Prince of Briar Valley, and as much as he liked it and would have appreciated seeing it some other time, there was something else he wanted to see more.

“It was probably obvious, but I finished sketching Malleus weeks ago.” As you explained, you allowed him to turn the pages for himself, letting him discover what else laid on the pages. “I drew him a few more times just so you wouldn’t get suspicious, but after a while you stopped asking about if I was done or if you could see so I just…”

He flipped to the next page, seeing multiple sketches, of different sizes and poses and angles, all of the same person. Then he flipped to the next, and the one after, and although you drew other things as well, the fact stood that you had developed a favorite subject. 

“I like the way you talk. I mean, for a while, even before this, I’ve already, you know,” you suddenly confessed, although you didn’t appear or sound prepared for it at all, “I mean you’ve always helped me in class even when you say you won’t do more than give me a few hints, and whenever I ask you to repeat something you don’t just say never mind like people normally would?

“And then you made that request and I thought it was a good chance to get to know you, but then you just had to be so–” you paused for a moment, openly letting out a small shout against one of his pillows. Sebek understood the feeling, he wished he could do the same as well but his will to look good and put-together in front of you would not allow it. Not that he was that put-together at all, with his mind doing sprints and his face and ears heating up as hotly as a dragon’s fire.

“Your expressions whenever you talked about Malleus or Lilia, or something that annoyed you, or even when you were scolding me… all of those were so cute, and cool, and you were so passionate about everything that I just had to–” you made an up and down motion with your hands, “–but that’s no excuse. I should have asked you first if it was alright. If you want, I could just give you those sketches and let you do whatever you wanted with them.”

Sebek didn’t speak immediately. He had listened, yes, but he wanted to flip through the pages a little longer, in particular comparing your first depiction of him to the latest one from today. It would be wrong to say one had more effort put into it than the other, unfair considering he thought they were both excellent, with a bias he thought he was now allowed to have. 

However, there was one clear distinction — the first, and several after that, looked almost like an experiment, as if you were just trying to figure him out. The one from today, though, was drawn as if you knew who he was, like you were sure of your perception of him as a person, and most of all, you drew him as if you enjoyed drawing him, as if you liked him for more than just his voice and his expressions.

It was then that Sebek realized just how you saw him.

“...No,” Sebek replied, oddly softly, but that did not last for very long. The first year cleared his throat, his voice booming once more, “absolutely not. You will be keeping those, and you may continue to draw me as much as you want under ONE condition —

“You… I demand you give me a portrait, a sketch, any artwork of you!” Sebek huffed, attempting to maintain whatever confidence and composure he had left. “Normally, in these situations, I should send in a painting of myself first, but as you already have so many sketches of me, it’s only right that I have something with your likeness as well! That– that is to say, ahem, I can also give you other things, of course. Since you like my voice, surely I can ask Master Lilia for some books containing fae poetry? Or… human! Are you laughing?”

“No! No, I’m just…” you shaking shoulders and puffs of incredulous laughter slowed to a stop, “you’re not mad? And you seriously like me back?” As if noticing the look he was giving you, you reiterate your statement, “I don’t doubt your feelings and I know you’re not lying, I just never would have… you said you wanted to focus on your duties, so I never would have thought you would be interested.”

“I remember telling you once — I did want to, in the future,” Sebek said, openly showing his uncertainty. He had never been in a relationship before, so he had no idea how to proceed — it was as if the advice he’d received from his seniors had mysteriously vanished from his head, leaving nothing but crumbs on how to woo you, “I don’t know now, considering my priorities, but… I want the chance to capture your heart for myself, and just for myself — if you’d let me.”

“Sebek…”

“I now know well how you see me, so this time, let me tell you what I think of you. Make sure to listen closely!”

my other sebek fic end notes | masterlist of all my works | series masterlist

[1] I know Sebek gets slandered for his voice, but I really like it! Personally I like loud people, when I talk to people who talk loudly I understand what they’re saying really well and I don’t have to ask them to repeat 🥺 and, well, Sebek is the type of person who’ll chide you for not listening but will repeat something anyway. It saddens me when people say “whatever” or “never mind”, Sebek would never! Also his diction? His expressiveness? His passion? Sebek would make a wonderful speaker for a talk, or debates, or honestly even theatre! He’s so wonderful! The whole purpose of this fic was just to show how much I love Sebek’s voice! I think it’d be cute if he talked softly for you as well, but Sebek is Sebek so no matter the volume I think he’s cute.

[2] In choosing the reader's personality, I went with someone he can admire (talent wise and eventually personality as well) but also help at the same time, for the sake of his ego and because he wants to be someone useful, wants someone to praise him. Sebek is a certified dog boy, after all, so the reader thanks and praises him quite openly (most of the time). Compared to the rader from the stories told, the charm you hold, they’re a lot less smooth, though. I wanted them to have their typical “teen embarrassing moment”, and in this one it’s drawing your crush and doodling his name on your sketchbook (bc Sebek checks their notebooks they cant play MASH or FLAMES there lol)

[3] Flower symbolism isn’t exactly constant everywhere. Geraniums symbolize friendship and happiness (which is why it’s mentioned at the very start, where they’re just beginning to be friends) but also stupidity and foolishness. The latter two, I wanted to give it a nice connotation, so they’re stupid fools who will be in love with each other soon, of course.

[4] Mint I mostly went with because of Sebek’s hair color (also doesn’t he seem like the type to use mint-scented shampoo…?), but I also like the meaning of “virtue, protection, personal strength”, I thought, “that’s so Sebek!”

[5] You could say this is my second fic with an artist!reader, but compared to the Vil fic I wanted to distinguish how this reader isn’t really a professional or anything (unless the reader imagines them to be). They just like art and they draw, no specific style other than they at least use a pen/cil sometimes, which I feel like is more relatable for people. And Sebek likes what the reader makes, that’s about it, really.

[6] (“Is it? That’s odd, I doubt that many people in this college are in the midst of courting someone,” and [...]) In this part, I just wanted Sebek to call everyone in NRC, excuse my language, bitchless. I just think it would be funny that out of all people, Sebek’s one of the few people who gets himself a significant other. 

[7] Malleus’ Martial Might is a reference to Sebek’s 2022 Valentines Day card

[8] Silver’s question is a line ripped from his SR Labwear card, although I used the JP translation from twstarchives as reference, so I’m not exactly sure if the wording is the same on EN.

[9] The reader could be the prefect (who happens to share multiple classes with Sebek) or from another world but not necessarily Yuu, I just decided to leave it ambiguous who they were and if they were magicless or not since it doesn’t really matter. I just wanted them to be in their first year as well.

[10] For the ending, instead of being in a relationship right away I went with Sebek basically deciding he should go through the “courting” process first… basically there isn’t exactly a label yet, but there’s a mutual affection, or “MU” as we would call it in Filipino terms. I decided to cut it off there because I didn’t want to give too much information about the reader for immersion/imagination purposes.

[jaeminscoffee]

Pairing- Huang Renjun x F!y/n

Warning(s)- Yandere themes, emotionally manipulative!Renjun, mind break, y/n poses symptoms of Stockholm syndrome, temper tantrums, undertones (not mentioned) isolation and emotional deprivation as 'punishments', overall messed up. not proof-read.

Type; wc; drabble; 1.19k

It was your fault. It's all your fault that it came to this. 

Or so said that small voice in your head as you watch the man you thought you knew oh so well pick and throw anything that came into his line of sight. 

"J-Jun.. Calm down" you cautiously approach him, voice as shaky as your form when he pays no mind to your silent pleas. "He needs help, this isn't healthy, you don't want this?' How're they supposed to know your wants, huh?! Did they dedicate themselves to reading you well like I did? Did they devote themselves to you?! Are they the ones having a future with you?!" goes a row of well arranged books on the shelf as he continues ignoring your existence. 

Renjun is a sweet guy, a really sweet one for that matter. Never once has he taken the initiative to hurt you. Never once has he ever tried replacing you. Never once has he made you feel worthless. 

If anything, he makes you feel like the only woman in the world with the way he looks at you. The way he talks to you. The way he does everything he can in his power to keep you happy. 

Then why're you two such an imperfect couple? 

'You're yet to come around the fact that we're destined to be together, Y/n. You'll see what I mean as the time passes', "Oh aren't you a little oblivious? Baby, we're meant to be. Doesn't mean there isn't a mountain of things we have to work on.' 'Quit being stubborn, would you? You brought this upon yourself! All I ever did was tell you what's right because you can't seem to be able to do anything right!' He'd say with that loveable smile of his. The same soft one he'd coaxed you with into falling in love with him. 

Ah.. That's right, you're the problem here. 

"Renjun, th-they don't mean anything-you know that! They're just trying to look out for m-" 

"Look out for you? Why? Am I hurting you? Do I make you do things against your will? If anything, Y/n! You're killing me. You're chipping away at my sanity bit by bit! Don't you see??" The exasperated tone Renjun speaks in kills you, your knees feeling weak as it fails to hold your form upright. 

"I-i'm sorry, Jun.. I didn't.. I didn't know.." you zone out while speaking. 

You're hurting him. He's right, you are hurting him. 

Renjun is a sweet guy, a really sweet one for that matter. He always puts your needs and interests before his. Took you to places you'd say you'd always wanted to go to. Got you gifts almost every other day. Stayed at home when you'd seem even a little out of it. Yet, he never asked for anything in return. 

All he ever wanted was for you to love him as much as he did. 

Of course you're hurting him. 

"That's the thing, Y/n.. You never know anything. Do you know how much it hurt me when you actually took their words into consideration? You don't know anything, yet. Just, just hold on until it all makes sense will you? Please, you're killing me.." the last bit came off as a whisper as he kneels down in front of you. Hurt evident on his face as a lone tear escapes from the corner of his eyes. 

In a way, Renjun knows the way he's going about dealing with you is wrong. He doesn't want to use brute force trying to get you to come through, he really doesn't. He's been trying to coax you with words and actions solely. He wants you to feel his love for you, and he's pretty sure he's doing a good enough job with that. But with how slow the things have been processing, he may as well resort to force. 

You're easy to break. Easy to coax, easy to fool. Renjun noticed so. He knows how easy it is for people to play with you. To play with what belongs to him. Which is why he'd sworn that no matter what, he'd protect you and lead you down the right path. Because obviously, a gullible little girl like you wouldn't know what's good for her. 

You stay quiet as he shifts to situate himself right in front of you, shaky arms coming up to cradle your face gently, urging you to look at him, "They don't want you to be happy. Don't you see, doll? They're trying to take away what's keeping you happy. I make you happy, don't i?" his eyes widen comically as he awaits an answer. 

"You do," you reply meekly. 

He makes you really happy for that matter, excluding episodes that take place as such the one right one, he's done nothing to make you unhappy. Even right now, all of this wouldn't have happened if you'd ignored your 'friends' and never tried voicing it out to him. Because it doesn't make sense. Whatever they'd said doesn't make sense.

He isn't hurting you. You're hurting him. 

"Then why would you listen to them? Baby they're trying to take advantage of you. They're trying to keep you all to themselves. They don't want you to be happy. They don't want me to be happy. They don't want us to be happy." you choke back a sob. That makes sense. They're trying to tear the two of you apart. They're trying to get you to make a mistake. They're trying to take Renjun away from you. Of course this makes sense. 

They don't want you to be happy. But Renjun does. 

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, Jun" you shake, guilt overtaking all of your senses as you mutter apologies after apologies, saying how it was never your intention to hurt him, saying how you'd make sure to never contact those 'friends' again, saying how you'd stay beside him no matter what others say as he rubs his hands around your shoulder in a calming manner. 

"I know you didn't mean to hurt me, doll. But you did, didn't you? Will you make up for it, for me?" 

You nod your head vigorously, albeit knowing what "making up" entails.

You don't want to stay away from him. But this was an effective method of showing you his worth. Showing you that he's your life line. That he's the one keeping you sane. 

That he makes you happy but you managed to hurt the one source of happiness you have. 

"When 3 weeks pass, I'll take you to your favorite cafe, hm? I'll feed you all your favorite foods! Buy you a lot of clothes, okay? But I'll need you to behave for me. For just 3 weeks." he coos into your ears. 

As you find comfort in his embrace, ignorant to the slight smile playing in his expression as he once again had you playing his games, you let out a sigh, one of relief or defeat, you're not really sure. 

But the one thing that you are truly positive about is;

'Ah.. I am the bad guy here. Renjun truly is a really sweet guy'

[xhopelesslyromanticx]

Learning to love you- Jesse Lingard x Reader

Masterlist

summary: In which the reader and Jesse are figuring out how to deal with an unplanned pregnancy. All while hiding it from her brother Marcus. Based on Billie Eilishs „Halley‘s comet.“

I don't want it And I don't want to want you

It was a dark and cold morning when you made your way to the black car parked in your driveway. You buried your face in your scarf as it was freezing. You opened the car door before sitting down in the vehicle, shivering as you closed the door.

„Did he see you leave?“ Jesse asked, sitting in the driver seat of his black Mercedes, dressed in some black tracksuit and looking pretty tired.

„No of course not Jesse.“ you sighed, running your hand through your hair as you stared out into the foggy air.

Trying to avoid Jesses stare on you „I was careful, I promise you don’t have to worry.“

Jesse could tell you were pressed about this as he started driving down the road. The two of you not talking to each other at all. This was a shitty situation to be in for both of you.

What had happened was that Jesse and you had what could only be described as a one night stand. You had both gotten pretty drunk at a party and it just kind of happened. And what started of as just a one time thing soon turned into a regular occurrence. Both of you agreeing to keep it casual. The messy part of the story was that Jesse was your brother Marcus best friend and teammate.

Well, not exactly the messiest part of all. No, the even messier part of this story was that Jesse was currently driving you to the hospital. After your period was late you had taken a pregnancy test and it had turned out positive. The positive test was followed by at least twenty more. Each of them telling you the same thing; you were pregnant.

It had taken you a lot of courage to call Jesse and tell him about it. He of course freaked out and even started to yell at you at some point. So you see that’s why you were not really fond of the idea of being with him at the moment. He had been incredibly rude and you had cried all night after the phone call. Till he texted you that he wanted to make sure it was true before doing anything else and that he would pick you up at 5am to go to the hospital.

In your heart you knew that it was true. All the symptoms and this weird feeling you had the past four weeks finally making sense.

„So are you never gonna talk to me again?“ Jesse spoke up after a while, clutching onto the steering wheel as you sighed.

„What can I even say.“ you whispered, crossing your arms as you stare out the window „You already have made up your mind.“

„Made up my mind?“ Jesse chuckled before shaking his head „I’m sorry that I didn’t jump up an down in joy when you told me that I got my best friends sister fucking pregnant!“

You bit your lip, trying to resist the urge to cry again. Was this already hormones?

„Well, it isn’t my fault either Jesse!“ you now hissed back, looking at him from the side.

Jesse looked at you before sighing „I know it isn’t Y/n! Okay? I’m just fucked if this is really true.“

„What’s supposed to not be true? I have taken about twenty tests. I’m fucking pregnant Jesse!“ you yelled, completely fed up with his narcissistic behavior.

„And you are a hundred percent sure that it is mine?“ he now hissed and you could immediately tell he regretted it.

You chuckled, staring out the window again. Oh, were you pissed off by the guy.

„I honestly can’t believe you right now.“ you bit your lip, already feeling tears fill your eyes.

Jesse didn’t say anything, he just stared at the road as he questioned why he was such an idiot sometimes. The rest of the car ride was dead silent and neither of you said a word.

„So you are definetly pregnant.“ the doctor said as you were sitting on the hospital bed.

You could hear Jesse sigh in the corner as he nervously paced up and down the room.

„And ehm…“ the woman weakly smiled at you, probably feeling sorry that the father of your child was currently acting like his life had just ended „I’ll give you a call to make an appointment next week and we can do a first ultrasound check up and then and discuss everything else.“

You nodded, looking down at your hands as you fumbled with the hem of your shirt.

„I’ll give you two some time.“ the blonde woman now said before leaving the room. And with it leaving you behind with Jesse sitting on a chair in the corner and cursing under his breath.

„Fuck, fuck, fuck!“ the guy said, burying his face in his hands. The sight of it made you sad. He looked truly upset about this. He couldn’t even pretend to be happy that you were carrying his child for a second.

After you stayed in that room and Jesse didn’t talk to you or try to comfort you at all, you finally decided you had enough. You stood up from the bed before putting on your grey coat that was hanging at the door.

„I won’t tell Marcus.“ you said, your voice cold and emotionless.

„That you're pregnant?“ Jesse furrowed his eyebrows as he looked at you confused.

„No, that it’s yours.“ you answered, grabbing your purse and scarf „I’ll say it was just some one night stand. It clearly didn’t mean anything to you…“

„What are you even talking about?“ Jesse sighed, thinking you were joking.

You looked back at him one last time before saying „I’m saying that you don’t have to be involved in the babys life. Okay? You’re free Jesse.“

With that you walked out the hospital room and as you made your way out the hospital, somewhere inside you kind of hoped he would follow you. But he didn’t.

But in my dreams I seem to be more honest

And I must admit, you’ve been in quite a few

„I wish you could come to the game with me tomorrow.“ Marcus sighed as he sat down next to you on the couch „But if you’re sick it’s probably a bad idea.“

It had been almost a week since you had last seen Jesse. You hadn’t told your brother you were pregnant yet, excusing the constant throwing up with the flu.

„Yeah, It’s probably not a good idea.“ you mumbled, crossing your arms as you stared onto the ground. The last week had been incredibly hard. You felt rubbish and there was no one there to support you or someone you could talk to.

„Are you okay?“ Marcus asked, sounding worried as he looked at you from the side „You seem sad latetly.“

You smiled weakly, your eyes probably giving you away „I’m fine. Don’t worry.“

As you awaited your doctors appointement a lot of questions ran through your mind. How where you ever gonna make this work? You were still studying and living with your brother. You had no job and you couldn’t actually afford a child by yourself.

You felt like you were gonna fail this child and maybe it was unfair to put someone into the world and offer them zero stabilty.

You also didn’t understand why you felt upset about not seeing Jesse. After all he had treated you like crap since finding out you were pregnant. So why on earth would you ever miss him? You kept having these weird dreams of the two of you and the baby as a family. It made you sad that subconsciously you obviously wanted him in your life.

Halley's Comet Comes around more than I do But you're all it takes for me to break a promise Silly me to fall in love with you

At least the nausea had gotten a little better. Just in time for your appointment on Thursday. You scrolled through your phone as you waited for the clock to hit four, so you could finally head to the doctors. All day you had been way to nervous to do anything as you paced through the house nervously. All the while your brother watched you confused and at some point even telling you to chill and sit down.

Then a couple hours later you were laying on the hospital bed as you awaited your doctor. When she finally came in you noticed she wasn’t alone.

„What are you doing here?“ you asked with furrowed eyebrows as you looked at the guy standing behind the doctor.

Jesse stood there completely dressed in his training attire, indicating that he had left training just to come to the hospital. He was out of breath and looked like he hadn’t slept in a while. He looked even worse than you who had been up sick all night last week. Jesse didn’t answer you, he just walked around the bed stopping by your head as your doctor started to do the ultrasound.

You looked up at him but his eyes were fixated on the screen. You felt the cold feeling of the ultrasound thing against your stomach as your doctor started to search for the baby. The room was silent only the sound of the machines could be heard.

„So I was right.“ the doctor smiled as she pointed at the screen „You are about six weeks pregnant and this is your baby.“

She pointed at the smallest looking thing on the screen. It was about the size of a ricecorn.

„It’s so tiny.“ you mumbled, making your doctor chuckle and nod „Yes it’s still very early.“

You then felt a hand grab yours and when you looked at it you saw that Jesse was holding your hand as he kneeled next to the bed. He looked at you with glassy eyes before looking at the screen again.

„That’s our baby.“ he then said and you felt yourself also tear up as he caressed your hand with his thumb.

For a moment the whole world and all your problems seemed to dissapear. It was just the three of you.

„And then I was thinking I want go get little baby adidas shoes.“ Jesse gushed as he drove down the streets, the biggest smile plastered on his face.

You chuckled as you stared at him from the side with furrowed eyebrows. He had been talking about everything he wanted to do for your baby since you two left the hospital. It was kind of confusing to you that he suddenly seemed to be head over heels about the pregnancy.

„Jesse?“ you spoke up and he raised his eyebrows as you sounded quite serious „Do you actually mean all of this?“

Next thing you knew Jesse pulled over, The cars passing honking he had abruptly done so. He turned off the car engine before turning to you. You looked at him and you had never seen him look that serious.

„Y/n… I…“ he stuttered, clearly nervous before grabbing your hands „I‘m so sorry for what I did last week. I‘ll forever regret reacting that way.“

You felt yourself tear up as you gave him a weak smile „It’s okay Jesse. I forgive you.“

„Good because I really want this baby.“ he whispered and you could tell he was also trying not to cry „I want it and I promise I’ll always take care of it.“

A tear rolled down Jesses cheek as you gently took your hand to wipe it off. Putting your hand on his face as you looked him in the eyes.

„Hope is gonna have a little sister or brother Jesse.“ you giggled, making him smile as he leaned in to place his lips onto yours.

It was different than the kisses you had shared previously. Normally it was just a sexual thing but this time it felt different. It was tender and soft. It was kind of like; love.

I haven't slept since Sunday Midnight for me is 3:00 a.m. for you

The next few weeks your life seemed to have turned upside down. Your body was trying to get used to the fact that it was now the home of another person as you tried to balance online school and the constant nausea.

You had been basically living at Jesses house as he had wanted to be by your side if you needed anything. Telling Marcus you were staying at a girlfriends house as Jesse and you hadn’t yet figured out how you were gonna explain your brother that you were in fact pregnant.

It was almost the twelfth week of your pregnancy which is normally around the time that people tell their family and friends. But of course your situation was different.

So for now you were staying up all night watching Netflix as you couldn’t sleep very well due to feeling sick. You had watched each Tv show that even existed but it wasn’t all that bad. Because at least you had Jesse.

But my sleepless nights are better

With you than nights could ever be alone

You also felt this incredible connection to the thing growing inside of you. It was like you loved someone you didn’t even know yet. For the first time in your life you felt like you weren’t ever gonna be alone again.

All the aches and pains became worth it when you thought about the little one. Dreaming and wondering if it was gonna be a girl or boy. Imagining it’s whole life and how much it was gonna be loved by both Jesse and you. How Hope was gonna soon become a big sister.

It was about the fourteenth week of your pregnancy when you were awoken by a sharp pain in your stomach. Immediately getting worried you tried to call Jesse, who was already in training by that time.

Of course the call went straight to voicemail as you started to slightly panic. Googling your symptoms as all the worst case scenarios came up.

„Pick up. Please Pick up.“ you tried calling Jesse again as you started to get dressed, struggling to put on clothes as you felt like you were about to die because it hurt so much.

But the call didn’t go through again. You thought about what to do and you knew you couldn’t drive in this state, that was for sure. After contemplating you did the only thing that your motherly instinct told you to do.

You picked up your phone, dialed the number and held it to your ear. Just a few seconds later a voice apperaed at the other end of the line.

„Hey Y/N?“ your brothers voice appeared and you immediately got nervous „Everything alright?“

„Hey Marcus.“ you mumbled, trying not to start crying as you were incredibly scared „No everything's not fine actually. Listen I know this is gonna sound weird but I really need to talk to...Jesse.“

„What?“ Marcus asked and you could tell he was super confused. You could hear voices shout his name in the background before Jesses voice apperead.

„What’s up Marcus?“ Jesse asked and you could hear him and Marcus talk.

„It’s my sister.“ Marcus told his best friend and Jesse immediately started to panic „Is she alright?“

„No! She said she wants to talk to you, what the fuck is going on?“ Marcus hissed and next thing you knew Jesses voice appeared on the phone. He had probably ripped it out of Marcus hand.

„Y/n? Are you okay?“ Jesse asked worried, ignoring Marcus uporoar in the background.

„No, Jesse.“ you voice was shaky and you tried not to cry „I woke up and I have this weird pain in my stomach.“

„Fuck.“ Jesse cursed, as you could hear him start running „Okay just stay put Y/n okay? I’m gonna be home in like ten minutes alright?“

The next ten minutes felt like an eternity as you waited for Jesse to get home. You knew after this you would have to tell Marcus what was going on. You prayed for your baby to be alright as you waited in front of the door. The fresh air helping to manage the pain.

Then Jesses car pulled up and out stepped not only Jesse but also Marcus. Oh, fuck.

Your brother looked absoluetly pissed off. Had Jesse already told him?

„What the fuck is going on Y/N?“ your brother yelled as Jesse ran over to you. So he hadn't told him yet. Great.

„I’m sorry he insisted on coming with me.“ Jesse said out of breath as he grabbed your hands and when he saw your pale face he immediately looked worried again „Is it really bad?“

„Yes, it’s a little better now but I think we need to go tho the hospital.“ you whispered as your brother was currently standing a few feet away from you looking absolutely baffled at Jesse holding your hands.

„Okay let’s go get you in the car.“ Jesse tried to remain calm as he helped you walk to the car while Marcus kept asking the same question „What is happening?“

You rolled your eyes at your whining brother, dressed in his training attire as Jesse put you in the front seat.

„Yo, what the fuck is this Jesse?“ your brother went on and on as Jesse closed the car door. You saw he was trying to not flip at Marcus as this situation was already super stressful and Marcus constant nagging wasn’t helping.

„We need to go to the hospital.“ Jesse quietly said and Marcus immediately looked terrifed „Why is she sick?“

„No…“ Jesse mumbled and he looked down at his hands „Well not techincally.“

„Well, what is it then?“ Marcus hissed, feeling like he was losing his mind and no one was explaining shit to him „Why is my little sister at your damn house Jesse?“

„She…is…“ Jesse stuttered and you buried your face in your hands, knowing he was about to drop the big news as you watched the interaction from inside the car „She is pregnant.“

Marcus looked at you through the window in absolute shock. His eyes then fell on Jesse and it was like he put two and two together and finally understood what exactly had been going on behind his back.

„Wait a minute.“ Marcus hissed, shaking his head while looking at his best friend that was scratching his neck and looking at the floor in shame „You got my sister pregnant?“

Jesse didn’t dare to say anything he just slowly nodded as he looked his best friend in the eyes.

You looked at your brother, who looked like he felt deeply betrayed and how could you blame him. He had just found out that both his best friend and his sister had been lying to his face.

„I’m sorry we didn’t-“ Jesse tried to say something but he was cut off by a fist hitting his face. You gasped as Jesse covered his mouth with his hand.

„Ouch.“ Marcus whined, shaking out his hand while Jesse looked at him shocked. His lip slightly bleeding.

„What the…“ Jesse hissed, looking at the blood on his fingers and then at his friend.

Marcus just furrowed his brows before groaning „Oh, come on. You fucking deserved it.“

Jesse raised his eyebrows, knowing Marcus was right but he just hadn’t expected this from the guy. And you were also quite suprised as your brother wasn’t normally a violent person. But maybe he was right and Jesse did kinda deserve it.

„Now get in the fucking car and drive my sister to the hospital!“ he yelled and you almost chuckled, this was typical Marcus. He just cared to deeply to stay mad for long.

Jesse didn’t say anything else as he made his way into the car. Marcus hopped in the back seat as you started heading of to the hospital.

„Can you go a little faster man!“ Marcus yelled popping his head between the front seat „She clearly is in pain.“

„I’m driving as fast as I can!“ Jesse hissed and you giggled at the interaction between the two „Are you okay love?“

Marcus scrunched up his face in disgust as he punched Jesses shoulder „Don’t call my sister that!“

I was good at feeling nothing, now I'm hopeless What a drag to love you like I do

„My lip fucking hurts.“ Jesse whined, looking at his bruised reflection in the rearview mirror as you waited at a red light.

„That’s what you get for knocking up my sister.“ Marcus hissed, sitting in the backseat with crossed arms.

The trip to the hospital had revealed a that the pain you had been enduring was some kinda round ligament thing. Apparently a lot of women had it and it would go away with resting. So luckily nothing bad.

Now you were on your way to McDonalds as you were really craving junk food and Jesse said yes to your every wish. That was one perk of being pregnant.

„What’s even the situation between the two of you?“ Marcus asked and you held your breath as you hadn’t yet discussed this with Jesse „Are you gonna get married or what?“

„What?“ you squealed at your brothers silly question.

„Yeah, I mean you are in a relationship right?“ Marcus asked but it was more directed at Jesse than you.

„We haven’t discussed that yet Marcus.“ you answered, not wanting Jesse to feel obligated to say something.

„So you just used my sister for sex?“ Marcus stated emotionless and you gasped at the guys audacity.

„Marcus!“ you hissed, feeling super uncomfortable with the whole situation.

„No I didn’t!“ Jesse now hissed, clearly offended by the accusation.

„Well if you aren’t in a relationship…“ Marcus shrugged and you could tell he was still very much pissed off at this whole thing.

Jesse shook his head taking a deep breath in „I fell in love with her. That’s why I even slept with her okay?“

It was dead silent for a second as you couldn’t believe what Jesse had just casually revealed. He loved you?

„You love me?“ you asked, looking at the guy in the driver seat.

„Yes…“ he smiled at you, before placing his hand on your thigh.

„I love you too Jesse.“ you smiled putting your hand on his.

It was a beautiful moment until you heard Marcus pretending to gag in the backseat. „Oh my god… I feel like I’m gonna throw up.“

I've been loved before, but right now in this moment

I feel more and more like I was made for you

The rest of your pregnancy was absolutely blissful. Jesse and you were falling in love with each other more everyday and your brother started to get used to the idea that his best friend and sister were gonna have a family.

You moved in with Jesse and the two of you started preparing for the baby to arrive. Painting and decorating it’s room, buying all kinds of baby stuff and starting to dicuss names.

Hope also was thrilled to hear she was gonna be a big sister and soon enough the whole world new about the new addition to the Lingard family. Then your due date arrived as you awaited for the birth of your daughter. That’s right, you were gonna have a little girl.

And the day she came into the world your life had forever changed. Finally you felt whole. It was like your whole life you had prepared for her. She was the cutest little baby with her dark curly hair and brown eyes. She was your whole world.

I'm sitting in my brother's room

Haven't slept in a week or two, or two

You sat on the chair in the corner of your brothers room as you watched Marcus and Jesse just stare at the little thing laying on the bed. She was now two weeks old and it had been one hell of a ride. Adjusting to parenthood was definetly hard.

„She is so cute when she sleeps.“ Marcus gushed looking at his niece as a tired looking Jesse chuckled „Yes, she hardly sleeps though.“

He winked at you as you gave him a weak smile, way to tired to say anything.

„So did you finally decide what her name is? Baby is starting to sound really good to me.“ your brother joked, making you chuckle as you leaned back into the chair.

Jesse looked at you with raised eyebrows as if he was asking for permission. You slowly nodded as he looked at the baby again.

„Her name is Haley.“

I think I might have fallen in love What am I to do?

[lovelenivy]

fake fic title game! (if still doing?!)

'Love, Obviously'

yes, absolutely still doing! thank you <3 this one's a bit tough but let's see. (ps. sorry it took so long 😭)

;;;

Sherlock doesn't understand what's wrong with him.

I must be ill, he thinks, because that's the only explanation he can come up with for what's happening to him. The accelerated pulse, the shortness of breath, the odd feeling in his stomach – those are just a handful of his symptoms. He finds it quite... troubling, to say the least.

He'd thought about asking John to have a look at him, but it always seems to get worse whenever Sherlock is around him, especially whenever John touches him. It's as if he's the cause of the problem, meaning an examination would be impossible because of it. So Sherlock discards that idea and decides to ask Molly Hooper instead – of course she mostly deals with corpses, but it's worth a shot, he thinks. It could prove helpful in finding out what's the matter with him.

One afternoon when John is at work, Sherlock goes to see her. She's busy for the first half an hour he's there, but finally she finishes up and he has her full attention.

"What do you need?" she asks with a small smile, slipping off her contaminated gloves and tossing them in the bin.

Sherlock gets straight to the point. "I need you to examine me," he says simply, not really looking at her. "I think I may be sick."

Her smile fades, face full of concern. "Are you all right?" she questions, and then stops to think. "Wait, but John is a doctor – wouldn't it have been easier to just ask him? Not that I'm not unwilling to help," she hastens to add. "I just... don't understand why you're asking me when he lives with you."

"John seems to only make it worse," Sherlock tells her as she snaps on another pair of gloves and gestures for him to sit, which he does. "I don't exactly know how, but he does."

Molly starts her examination. "What do you mean?" she inquires, using a light to check his pupillary response.

Sherlock lifts his shoulder in a shrug. "My heart starts beating faster and harder," he says after a moment. "Uncomfortably so. And my stomach gets all..." he pauses, looking for the right word, "...twisted up."

Molly stops what she's doing, staring at him awkwardly. "Let me guess," she begins, and he can't tell if she sounds pained, exasperated, or amused. "You sometimes feel like it's hard to breathe, and your hands get all clammy too. And it doesn't happen every time – only when you're not busy thinking about other things."

He blinks at her. "How did you know? Do you know what's wrong with me?"

She huffs. "Sherlock, for someone so beautifully brilliant, you are an absolute idiot when it comes to feelings, especially your own. I don't think I'll ever understand it."

He frowns, feeling insulted. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"It means that you're not sick, Sherlock," she tells him, once again removing her gloves. "You've got a crush. Or worse, maybe – you're in love."

"Love?" he questions as though it's the most ridiculous thing he's ever heard in his entire life. (Perhaps it is.)

"Yes. Love. Obviously."

He stares at her. "In love with whom, precisely?"

"Well, I don't know, Sherlock," Molly nearly snaps, sarcasm dripping from her words as she heads for the door, "Why don't you ask the one who's been making it worse?" And with that, she leaves the lab.

Sherlock sits there for a moment, feeling a bit lost. Molly said that he must be in love – obviously. But it isn't so obvious to him. What does anything he's been experiencing have to do with love? And what's any of it got to do with John, like Molly implied? It doesn't make sense to him. He's not in love.

But... perhaps he should do as Molly said and ask John about it after all, because he still doesn't quite understand anything and is feeling more lost now than before as time goes by. John might just know why Molly had said what she said.

Or maybe not. Guess it's time to find out, then.

;;;

didn't know if i should finish it or not so i left it here. but maybe... 👀

[shelby-love]

TOMMY SHELBY

Life Amidst the Death

Requested: no

Prompts: none

Warning(s): none

Author’s note: My @ has Shelby in it, but I literally haven’t written about my favorite men. REQUEST PLEASE I WANT TO WRITE ABOUT MY PEAKY MEN

Let me know if you want to be on my Peaky Blinders tag list!

~

You walked along the pathway, shielding your eyes from the frost snow.

Although it wasn't unusual for Birmingham to experience bad weather, you still had a distaste toward it. Right now a blizzard was rolling in, and while the weather was still fairly calm, you had dashed outside to tend to your horses.

Knowing your horses were safe, secure and protected from the oncoming blizzard would be the only way to get you to sleep peacefully once night falls.

So, as the sun starts to set, you cross what on a sunny day would be your backyard and struggle. You walked bent over against the cold, protecting your face by stuffing it into the warm scarf that was wrapped around your neck protectively.

Suddenly, your leg gave out beneath you as it slipped on a hidden slab of ice that was hidden underneath a fair amount of crystalline snow.  

Toppling over, your arms come out to brace yourself, so you don't fall face-first into sharp ice.

Pain laced through you within a second of falling on the damp snow, landing straight on the ice with your hands and left hip. You cursed underneath your breath as puffs of cold air escaped along with the vulgar words. You glanced down on your hands where pain started to zap through.

Scarlet colored blood trickled down your wounded hand that was likely to have been sliced by a stray of sharp ice. You watched in horror as it started to drip down on the milky white blanket of snow, tainting it in red.

You rested your injured hand to your chest while pressing the uninjured one to your stomach and tried not to let the panic overtake your senses.

Partially running, you make your way across your backyard, leaving drops of blood along your tail. The scarlet like liquid travelled through your fingers, disappearing underneath your coat but leaving a noticeable trail along your arm.

You approach your house, a beautiful manor, vision swimming with unshed tears and open the door, letting the gentle warmth from a nearby fire wash over you.

Not only was your hand bloody and injured, but also your hip, which will be streaked by colors tomorrow.

"I will go get Mr. Shelby," a distant voice of your maid travels through your ears. You ignore it, settling down to kick your boots off in a haste. Several long moments passed before a voice entered your ears again.

"Y/N?" The sound of your husband's voice brought you back to reality. Tommy looks over you with his sharp gaze, noting the blood that's pooling at your feet. When you gazed over him, you took note that he looked like he was deep in work moments before you dashed into the house injured, with his glasses nested firmly on his nose and the sleeves of his shirt rolled up to his elbows. Even a pen is still firmly gripped in his hand. "You're bleeding, love."

"I slipped on the ice and cut my bloody hand," You say, voice shaking as another surge of tears threatens to fall from your already red-rimmed eyes. You cursed some more quietly, as pain seemed to attack your panicked senses.

Placing the pen back into his shirt pocket, Tommy walks towards you and grabs your forearms, not looking at all disgusted by the large amount of blood. He knew blood better than anyone, his own hands were coated in an invisible amount after all. The blood that seeps from your wound even gets on his own hands as he seizes your injured hand with narrowed eyes.

You let him lead you into the bathroom, mind numbed from panic. Once the light turns on you settle your eyes on the mirror and come to terms with how crazy you look. Tears run down your face in a mad race to your lips that are frosted with cold due to the snow. Tommy meets your gaze in the mirror, noticing the way you're fighting back tears that just keep falling.

"Hey, you're alright, love," he assures you, turning you by the hips to face him, keeping one hand lightly on your injured hip. "You're crying. Why?"

"I just scared myself Tom," you admit. Your heartbeat started to settle while you ran your injured hand under the tap, watching as the cold water mixed with the red blood and disappears down the sink. Tommy rummages through the medicine cabinet behind you, pulling out medicine and bandages.

"You cut yourself, Y/N. You'll survive." Tommy tells you gently, hoping that his words calm you down as you wipe the tears off your face. "Why are you so frightened?"

"I don't know. It just gave me fright." You tell him uneasily, handing him your injured hand, so he can tend to it.

With rough hands, that never felt more gentle than at that moment, Tommy ran some antiseptic over the cut with precision. You winced as it started to sting but refrained from pulling your hands away from his.

Tommy looked up at you, "Y/N, I can tell when you're not being completely honest with me."

You paused instantly, the last few days before snow started to fall flashed through your mind. The talks of truth with Polly, meetings with Ada where she shared all about her pregnancy and gushed how you'll have a girl for sure too.

All of it will become far too real once the words leave your mouth.

Everything Tommy has on his plate, all the priorities - they will shift.

"I'm pregnant, Tom. Alright?"

He blinks once before turning back to you, his brain not comprehending the information. "What did you say?"

"Don't make me repeat it," You said, resting your hands over your stomach.

He shook his head, composing himself. "When did you find out?"

You sighed through your nose, trying to remember the day you and Polly first talked about your symptoms. "A couple of weeks ago, when I said I was taking Charlie to see a play in London."

"Did you?" he asked, gently wrapping a bandage around your hand. “Go see the play?”

"You want to know if I lied to you? Of course, I didn’t!" You exclaimed. "Pol went with us to London. She took me out for drinks one night... I felt sick and she just-"

He waited for you to continue. "You know how she is Tom..."

Silence overcame the two of you, there was no doubt in your mind that he was thinking the same as you.

Even though this was pure happiness for the both of you, it's been over shined by the reality of what it could mean for your child.

Tommy rested his hands on your waist, looking at you with the serious look in his eyes. The one Tommy Shelby always wears, not Tom, your husband. "Y/N I'm your husband. You should have told me right away."

"I'm sorry. I was scared," You said quietly, stepping out of his grasp. You took your bloody coat off your shoulders and let it fall down on the floor.

Finally, after what looked like hours, you felt clean.

Tommy's expression changed into one of happiness, the one he used to wear all the time before war had sucked all the joy out of him. "Scared? This is the best news I've heard in days."

You smiled, turning back around, "Really?"

"There is too much death around us Y/N," he said. "We need some life."

You grasped his hands in your own and placed it on your swollen stomach. The relief you felt was instant and life that once seemed far too dangerous outside these walls seemed to have changed for the better.

This is exactly what he needed. Some permanent joy in his life to make up for all the joy he had lost.

From war, from the business, and now politics.

Playing house was exactly what you needed.

Just Tommy, Charles, you and the little human that was growing inside you.

Preferably a girl.

~

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