#just kinda. relishing in this peace and …happiness?

[lexirosewrites]

Kinda sorta sleeping beauty AU Part 3

Robin drops the rope into the boat & it is instantly floating away across the lake, cutting through the water on a direct path to the shore of the island. Eddie has no oars nor does he need them it seems. He is quickly entering the thick fog surrounding the island. He wants to panic, he wants to swim away, but when the breeze shifts his nose is tickled by baked apples.

When a strange dark tendril reaches up to wrap around the boat, to stop its progress, to crush the wood & drag him down, Eddie doesn't think. He rears back his hand & stabs it w the dagger. The tendril releases him & the boat seems to speed away to the island.

When it reaches the shore he hops out & pulls it onto the sand. The fog is unmistakably pouring out from behind the trees. Eddie takes a breath & as he relishes the hint of apple in the air he closes his eyes & sees hazel twinkling like stars. He hears bird song & sees the bird from his dreams hopping along a branch before flying further into the trees. Eddie swallows his nerves as best he can, and pushes forward into the treeline.

He walks for a time before he feels himself being stalked. The forest is unnatural in its silence so he hears the shuffle of leaves as something tht isn't him moves among the trees. He hears a strange shrill clicking & turns in time to avoid the claws of a beast with no face but a thousand teeth. Eddie never trained formally to fight but the dagger seems to know what to do as it arcs in the air & stabs into the neck of the creature. The shriek it emits hurts his head but he keeps his arm moving. Stabbing it over & over, injuring its arms, then managing to cut an obvious tendon in its leg, till finally he is stabbing the creature in a place he assumes is its heart.

When he is sure it is dead he stumbles away, the image of the entrance to the maze in his mind. The hedges move w a breeze & fog pours out from the maze. It has smelled of rot & ichor since he'd stabbed the tendril in the water, but as he catches his breath before entering the maze he breathes in warm baked apples. Just as in the dream he feels himself warm from within starting w his heart.

He moves through the maze not having to rely on the scent entirely as he'd walked the correct path in his dream. When he comes upon the clearing in the center he realizes he hadn't been hearing the singing for there is the man from his dream, but he is sleeping. There is no stone bed only a pool of water pouring out fog tht the man is floating in as he sleeps. His breathing is as if he truly is in a deep peaceful sleep. Eddie approached the pools edge & without thought only following an instinct he dropped the dagger into the pool & grasped the sleeping man's freezing cold hand.

The pool of water slowly begins to glow from beneath. Eddie pulls the man from the water, and drags him into his arms. The man is cold, still asleep, but now Eddie can see movement behind his closed eyelids. Following a scrap of knowledge his uncle had given him when Eddie had his first rut the bard knight tucks the mystery man's nose into his neck. He focuses on releasing calming pheromones.

There is an intake of breath deeper than before, then plush lips brushing against his mating gland where the scent is strongest, then the omega in his arms sighs as he awakes. Eddie pulls back to look at the most beautiful human he'd ever seen.

At the same time they each reached out to touch the others cheek.

"You are real?" The omegas voice was music to Eddie's heart.

"I am," Eddie assured, "I dreamed of you."

"I dreamed of you too. For over 100 years I dreamed of you."

"What is your name my beautiful dream?"

With eyes twinkling in happiness his love answered, "Stephen, but I wish for you to call me Steve."

"My Stevie." Eddie answers, and then they r meeting in the middle to share a kiss.

When Eddie leads them out to the shore where he'd moored the boat Robin was standing there. She ran to them & hugged Steve to her tightly as Steve clung to her in return.

The sun was beginning to fully rise as the enchanted boat took them to the docks of the town, as they approached ppl gaped in wonder. Nancy was there apparently rounding up ppl to form a search party for Eddie, but when she saw the boat moving without oars directly from the island as it carried 3 ppl upon it she began laughing w relief.

The island began sinking in the distance.

[Part 3 of 3, an epilogue is also on the way]

his Stevie!!!!!!🤧😭💕

***links to come later because tumblr is acting up and won’t let me add hyperlinks right now***

(link to part one, part two)

(link to epilogue when it’s posted)

[shatterthefragments]

Ok but for real us being soft over the Vessels’ tummies has helped me so much today

Like my pants were falling off my hips all day again. The same pair of capris that I was wearing last week and made the note: “Pulling a Vessel with the way my (loose ass) pants (with stuff in pockets) are coming down my hips”. And uh. Same today again. And so I didn’t tie them tight enough (partially bc I like not having to untie them to take them off). And so they were under my belly button and sliding down all day. Which is fine. But especially when I was doing stuff they slid further down and underneath my belly. Held up only by a hip. And if my shirt lifted up then like. It was all exposed. Soft round belly. Love handles. That crease by your hip (and above it too) (far rounder than all the vessels combined but that’s ok I’m fat and it’s okay.)

And I’m. Okay with it. (Today). I’m soft and squishy and round and it’s okay. And you know what? It’s even cute. Cute and soft and squishy and OKAY!

[elizaleclerc]

intertwined, sewn together 🌊

lando norris x reader

summary: fem reader & lando share a sweet day w friends on a yacht <3

song: not a lot, just forever by adrianne lenker

author’s note: love this sm my heart ugh!! fluff & cute summer vibes. kinda grumpy x sunshine ; allusions to a bad childhood <\3

word count: 1.8k

You reclined on the plush deck of the yacht, basking in the warm rays of the sun as they caressed your stomach. The smell of sunscreen and tanning oil lingered in the air, leaving a sticky sheen on your skin. You relished these lazy days on the yacht, surrounded by your friends Lily and Carmen who chatted animatedly next to you.

Lost in the pages of your book, you barely registered their conversation as you lay with one elbow propped on the ground and the other hand holding the book, using it as a shield against the bright sun. However, your peaceful reading was interrupted by the rowdy boys behind you. Alex, George, Charles, and Lando were engaged in a game of cornhole, their shouts and cheers growing louder with each round. Their competitive banter blended with the sound of the cornhole sacks hitting the wooden board, making it difficult for you to concentrate on your book.

With a deep sigh of frustration, you carefully placed the book down and turned to your friend Lily, who was sitting next to you on the deck of the yacht. The sound of raucous laughter and shouting from the boys had grown increasingly louder, making it difficult for anyone else to carry on a conversation.

"Could they be any louder?" Carmen asked, her voice barely audible over the noise.

You nodded in agreement, “I know right, it’s like they are the only ones on the damn yacht.” You turned over, and, now laying on your stomach, you propped yourself up on your elbows and watched the boys play.

Your eyes were immediately drawn to Lando, his intense focus on the game evident in the way his brow furrowed and his arms swung the sandbag with ease. You couldn't help but admire how effortlessly he moved, his muscles flexing with each throw. His fingers ran through his messy summer curls, adding to his charming and carefree appearance. He was perfect in every way, and just knowing he was yours made your heart soar with happiness.

Lily and Carmen resumed their conversation, still reclining on their backs. You found yourself growing quiet, a natural state for you. Your introverted nature preferred observing to actively participating in conversations.

As a child, this led to struggles in making friends. Some labeled you as mean, but the truth was that you simply had little patience for most individuals. Your shyness was often viewed as a weakness and your silence as threatening, but slowly you emerged from your shell. Childhood experiences had left you with deep scars, ones that most people could never imagine. For a long time, you kept these memories buried deep within, trying to forget they were real. But then Lando came into your life, and he helped unravel all the pieces of you that had been hidden away. He didn't run away or judge you; instead, he loved every part of you as if you were made just for him. And because of him, you met others who saw and appreciated the real you as well.

That’s why you loved these people on the yacht. Not just Lando, who you’ve been dating for three years now, but even his friends and their girlfriends. They were lively at times, but they could be calm and relaxing too, having real and deep conversations. When you started dating Lando, they welcomed you with open arms, and the group quickly felt like a newfound family, one that you desperately needed. 

Lando was sunshine personified. His deep, rich laugh was infectious, bringing out the same pure happiness in everyone around him, including you. You couldn't help but notice how his eyes would crinkle at the corners when he laughed so hard that tears formed in his eyes. And with his perfectly tanned skin and light brown hair, he looked as if he had been sent down from the Sun itself just for you to love and for him to love you back even more fiercely. His genuine empathy and understanding towards your struggles made it feel like he could see right into your soul, and his persistent effort to get to know you only further solidified your growing feelings for him.

The two of you truly seemed like opposites, but everyone around you saw how much love was between you and Lando. As you watched him play cornhole, a small smile spread on your lips. It was inevitable, Lando seemed to just have that effect on you. 

“Lando, looks like you’ve got an admirer,” Charles shouted to him as he must have caught you staring. Your face flushed, even more so with the sun beating down. Lando caught your eye, shooting you a wink. 

“Good, I’m on fire! Best game I’ve played yet.” Lando proudly proclaimed, which made you grin even more. 

Carmen turned on her stomach now to watch along with you. “George, baby, how are you doing?” She asked him. 

Lando was the one to respond though, “Oh, he’s playing like shit. You better take his place.” Everyone bursted out into laughs, everyone except George, who always got slightly offended at jokes made at his expense. 

“Yeah yeah, whatever.” George sighed with a wave of his hand. “Let’s play another game, I’ll beat you this time.” 

“That’s what you said five games ago,” Alex laughed, which caused the guys to break into another fit of chuckles.

You were enjoying watching them play, but as the sun beat down on your skin and sweat began to form on your brow, you knew it was time to take a break. Walking over to the cooler, you grabbed a cold bottle of water and some freshly cut strawberries. The icy liquid provided instant relief as it cascaded down your throat, while the juicy sweetness of the strawberries left a refreshing aftertaste. 

Feeling rejuvenated, you made your way to the edge of the yacht and settled into the welcoming shade. As you gazed out at the vast expanse of ocean before you, you couldn't help but feel a sense of tranquility wash over you. The rhythmic lapping of waves against the boat and the gentle breeze caressing your skin were soothing in a way that only being on the ocean could provide.

Lost in your thoughts, you reached for your book and lost yourself in its pages. The sound of laughter and splashing from your friends faded into the background as you immersed yourself in the fictional world within. Time seemed to pass quickly as you turned one page after another, until you noticed the sky beginning to change color. A soft orange glow now painted the horizon, signaling that sunset was near.

You moved from your spot on the yacht and went back out to see what everyone else was doing. Lando was laying out on a large sunbed, clearly exhausted from his hours of playing cornhole. As you looked around, all of the boys were laying out too. You couldn’t find Carmen or Lily, but you assumed they were still trying to soak up the last bit of sun they could for the day. 

“There’s my pretty girl,” Lando smiled as you approached him. You stood beside his sunbed as he kissed the top of your hand. “Where did you run off to?” 

“I went to read for a bit. It was kinda distracting earlier when you and the guys were playing.” You explained. He motioned for you to cuddle up next to him on the bed. As you tucked yourself by his side, he smirked. 

“Distracting because I was so good looking?” He bantered and you rolled your eyes. 

“No, because you guys were being so loud.” You joked and he faked a frown. You smiled, “But you’re also very good looking.” 

He tilted your chin up so he could kiss you softly, taking in every bit of you and the strawberry taste still on your lips. As you laid your head back on his chest, he ran his fingers through your hair, playing with it lazily. “I love you a lot you know”

You traced your fingers along his torso and grinned to yourself, “Yeah, I know.”

“Good. Just making sure you don’t forget it.” He leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to the top of your head, his warm breath mingling with the soft breeze. As the sun began its descent towards the horizon, you both sat on the sunbed, watching the stunning display of colors in the sky. The vibrant oranges and deep blues blended together like a masterpiece, filling you with a sense of awe and wonder. Despite all the pain and suffering in the world, moments like this reminded you of the beauty and magic that still existed. You could feel the warmth of the cooling sun on your skin, leaving a subtle tan as it slowly made its way towards the horizon. The peacefulness of the moment was enough to lull you into a blissful sleep.

~

Charles propped himself up on his cushioned chair, and saw you asleep on Lando’s chest. “She knocked out, huh?” He smiled at Lando.

“Yeah, guess so. The sun makes her tired sometimes.” Lando replied in a low voice to try and not to wake you up. 

“You know, I never heard her say she loved you back earlier.” George remarked from the other side of Lando. 

“She doesn’t have to, I know she does.” Lando replied, which confused the guys. He saw their perplexed expressions. “You know it took her a long time to say it in the first place but…I’ve known her long enough to where I know it without her having to say it.” 

“I still don’t understand.” Alex piped up next to George. 

“I mean, cmon, what’s so hard to understand? You saw the way she watched me earlier. Her eyes said it all. And the other day when she peeled oranges for me without me asking? And yesterday, when we got home, she rambled to me about the book she was reading. You could just see the light and love in her eyes. She never used to be that way, not when I first met her.” Lando knew the other guys still might not get the full picture, but he remembered how you were before you guys started dating. He remembered how you would shut out the world and not let anyone in. He knew that you used to not express how much you liked things or even smile when you ate your favorite foods.

He knew you loved him, he knew it went without saying. You were his everything, and simply being nestled next to him, feeling the gentle rhythm of your breath against his side, was enough to make his heart swell with love. No amount of conversation could match the pure joy of watching you smile or hearing the sweet melody of your voice. The two of you were intertwined, sewn together as the perfect pair.          

[sunsburns]

kiss of life (iii.)

pairing: luke castellan x aphrodite!daughter reader

masterlist

summary: you have never doubted aphrodite when it comes to soulmates, she's the goddess of love, she knows what she's doing and you're getting pretty sick of people telling you she's made a mistake with your soulmate, specifically. you refuse to believe that she could be wrong, but luke castellan is making it really hard for you to have hope.

—or: you and luke are off on your quest you're totally not having second thoughts about choosing him, he's your soulmate after all... right?

word count: 3.2k

warnings: filler chapter (sorry gang), reader's pov, reader is lowkey unreliable and is hiding something, pre-tlt, luke's character is kinda inconsistent but whatever, angsty fight with luke and reader, low-key happy ending

a/n: everyone might've moved on but i'm still here 😔… gang i think i’m coming back to my active era (no one cheered) anyways there’s so much i wanna write for this series so enjoy this little filler!

You'd always been a fan of bad ideas, but choosing Luke Castellan as your companion for the duration of your quest had to be your worst one yet. You felt a pang of doubt, questioning your choice, especially after witnessing the outcome of his quest—a failure that seemed impossible to shake off from the whispers of other campers. A failure your siblings wouldn't let you forget.

"I was there when he came back. I know what happened," you muttered, frustration creeping into your voice as you stuffed clothes into your bag.

Your siblings meant the world to you. You cherished the bond you shared—the familial camaraderie that bound your cabin together. As the eldest, you revelled in guiding and nurturing them, relishing the role of guardian and friend within your cabin's close-knit circle. Yet, like any family, they can sometimes be suffocatingly overbearing.

Alexis, your brother, ever ready to smack a reality check, had been the first to warn you against choosing Luke Castellan, and now he spearheaded a group of your siblings, all urging you to reconsider with reason.

"But that's just it. You don't know. Not really. None of us do." Alexis told you, reclining against the shared vanity in your cabin. The absence of the younger kids, off with Chiron for a lesson on constellations, offered you some peace of mind, sparing them from witnessing the escalating intervention.

As Silena sifted through the clothes strewn across your bed, her soft humming filled the room, a stark contrast to the weighty silence that hung over the conversation. "No one but Chiron and Mr. D knows what happened on that quest. He refuses to talk about it." she mused.

"There's not a lot of glory in that." Alexis shrugged, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips.

"He's been so weird and different since he returned," Silena added, "I remember he used to smile. It was such an attractive smile. And he used to talk... He barely ever talks anymore."

Alexis snorted, "That's called depression, Silena."

"It's just so sad." She frowned and sat on your bed, her gaze distant, "Pretty people don't deserve to be depressed."

"Amen to that."

You couldn't help but roll your eyes at their melodramatic exchange, a fleeting smile tugging at the corners of your lips as you focused on folding another pair of pants. 

"He still talks." You said.

"But it's not the same," Alexis countered, his expression grave. Deep down, you knew he was right.

"And the way he's treated you," Silena scoffed, "constantly icing you out..."

"Avoiding you for months..." Alexis added, stepping closer to you with a solemn expression. "Refusing to even talk to you."

When he tried to put his hand on your shoulder, you couldn't help but shrug it off, not wanting his sympathy.

Their reminders, well-intentioned though they may be, served only to deepen the wound already festering within you. Like a knife twisted in your back, the memories of Luke's avoidance and unanswered questions pierced your thoughts with relentless precision. You vividly recalled the disappointment etched across his face in the infirmary, a silent testament to his dismay upon discovering your role in his fate. The weight of his unspoken words hung heavily in the air, a haunting reminder of the rift that had formed between you before it even started.

Your siblings were very careful with their next words: "Do you think that maybe... just this once... Aphrodite got it wrong?"

With a heavy heart, you stormed out of the cabin, your mind reeling with conflicting emotions. You swore up and down to Alexis and Silena that you were fine, that you only needed air. The need for clarity drove you to seek solace in the quiet embrace of nature, the gentle flicker of a breeze offering a touch of comfort amidst the turmoil raging within.

Throughout your life, your unwavering loyalty to your mother, Aphrodite, and the Gods has been a source of solace and guidance. You found comfort in the subtle manifestations of them, from the celestial dance of stars to the gentle caress of sunlight filtering through the trees. Even in the casual interactions of everyday life, you sought traces of your mother's hand guiding your path.

As you gazed into the dancing flames, the remnants of fruit smouldering in their fiery embrace in a tin can, you found yourself caught between hope and despair during your offering for your mother. Silena's words echoed in your mind, a harsh truth you were reluctant to confront. Maybe you didn't have a soulmate. Maybe it was a mistake. Maybe you're unlovable.

Yet, amidst the cloud of doubt, a flicker of defiance ignited within you. The mere thought that Aphrodite could be mistaken in matters of love seemed impossible to you. You had witnessed firsthand the intricate tapestry of fate woven by her hand, guiding souls to their destined counterparts with unfailing precision. 

The yearning for that connection, that soul-deep bond, burned within you like a beacon in the darkness of uncertainty. It was a desire as old as time itself, the longing to find solace and belonging in the embrace of another.

As the flames dwindled to embers, their dying glow casting flickering shadows upon the ground, your prayers went unanswered. 

The weight of your impending quest pressed upon you like a heavy cloak. Questions tumbled over one another in a relentless cascade, each one a dagger aimed at the heart of your resolve. Where would you need to go? Would you need to defend yourself? Would monsters come after you? Should you choose someone else? Could it be that Luke was nothing to you but a mistaken thread tethered into your life?

Your shoes stepped over twigs and dry leaves on the ground until you stepped out of the forest. Passing by the armoury, you forced a smile upon your lips. You forced yourself to be excited for your first quest rather than dread it. It was a rare privilege bestowed upon a child of Aphrodite, you should honour it.

As you approached the heart of camp again, the familiar clang of sword meeting dummy rumbled through the night air. The rhythmic sound, though commonplace in the realm of demigod training, carried an ominous weight under the cover of darkness. You would have assumed that all campers were asleep.

Luke Castellan, a boy who had become synonymous with the darker days since his return from his quest, stood amidst the training grounds, his silhouette illuminated by the pale moonlight. The sight of him, bathed in the ghostly shine, was haunting. With each precise strike of his sword, a muted testament to the rage that plagued his restless spirit, he seemed to exude an aura of both determination and despair.

No wonder you were so exhausted.  

You dared not meet his gaze, instead keeping your head bowed as you navigated the familiar path through the training grounds. Every fibre of your being screamed for you to move faster, yet the pull of his presence was undeniable. Despite your best efforts to remain unseen, Luke's voice cut through the night, calling out your name with a sense of urgency that sent a shiver down your spine.

Shit.

With a sinking heart, you felt his hand land on your shoulder, stopping your escape. You couldn't avoid him now. Turning to face him, you were met with a sight that mirrored the restlessness within your own soul. His features, etched with lines of weariness and frustration, betrayed the weight of the burdens he carried.

You were distracted by the way he was looking at you. Brows furrowed, his lips turned and pulled into that permanent frown that had you wondering if he had ever smiled since he came back. Yet, despite the weight of his solemn expression, there was a flicker of something in his eyes – a glint of warmth, of familiarity, that almost stirred a faint glimmer of hope within you.

Almost. 

"You're making a mistake." He insisted. "You need to choose someone else for your quest."

You tried not to seem too disappointed. "I can't pick anyone else." You protested, and he raised his brows at you, doubtful. "The Oracle told me to choose you."

"She told you to-?" A scoff escaped him, "The Oracle doesn't tell you who to choose. She doesn't say anything about who you should bring-"

"Luke-"

"The Oracle tells you what your quest is, then a weird riddle about something that will happen on your quest that will put you on edge the entire time."

Luke had stepped closer to you as he spoke as if his words would've sunk into your head clearer if you could hear them better. He spoke to you a lot that way, hoping you'd cling to every word he had to say; good and bad. Mostly bad.

The Oracle's cryptic words lingered in your mind. She had not revealed much about your quest, offering no subtle hints or insights into Eros' whereabouts to make your life easier. Instead, her assurance that success hinged on bringing Luke Castellan along had left you grappling with uncertainty. "He has all the answers you seek," she had urged, her words echoing with a weight that you struggled to comprehend.

"It has to be you."

"What else did she say?"

You hesitated. "That's it," you replied, your words falling short.

"That's it?" He didn't believe you.

"Just a few hints of where Eros might be, I guess." The lie slipped from your lips effortlessly. 

He caught it quickly but never urged you to admit it. Luke remained silent, his expression unreadable as he mulled over your words. 

You sort of wished he fought you over it.

You wished he'd do anything with you. At least try to.

"If you don't want to come with me, that's fine," you conceded, "I'm leaving tomorrow morning, with or without you."

"Really? You'll just leave?"

The bitterness in his tone was unmistakable. Yet, despite the resentment that coloured his words, there was a flicker of something in his eyes – a glimmer of regret, perhaps, or maybe resignation. It only annoyed you further.

Luke Castellan was possibly the most confusing person you've ever met. He didn't want to join you on your quest, but you couldn't leave without him either? What's his fucking deal?

He intrigued and frustrated you, like some curse had been placed upon you, and you wanted to understand every part of him while he wanted nothing to do with you. Perhaps Aphrodite was being cruel when she chose him as your soulmate, but you weren't any better when you put him in the position of joining you on your quest.

"I don't know you." You admitted the words hanging heavy in the air between you. "You've made a really good effort to make sure that I don't know anything about you. I did my part. I picked you. If you don't want to come, that's... fine."

It pained you to say it. You did not want to go alone, but you weren't going to force someone to accompany you who clearly didn't want to be there. However, the uncertainty of what lay beyond the safety of the camp walls loomed large in your mind. You haven't left the protection of the camp in years, you weren't sure of what was out there other than the stories the summer campers would tell you, of their close calls and near misses. 

Luke Castellan was the perfect example of what leaving camp does to someone.

Despite the weight of your decision, you held your head high as you turned on your heels. You doubted Luke had anything more to say; he was a man of few words, after all.

You left him there, just as he left you by the docks for months. And then you lied to yourself, clung to the belief that your mother, Aphrodite, would safeguard your journey and that your brother, Eros, awaited your rescue.

And so, the next morning, after bidding your tearful goodbyes to your siblings and friends and earning a proud pat on the back from Chiron, you swallowed your pride and left.

The Oracle's words were etched into the very fabric of your being, a relentless mantra that monopolized your thoughts as you trudged toward the top of the hill and left the safety of campgrounds. Each step forward was a testament to your determination, each footfall a declaration of your unwavering commitment to the quest ahead.

As you climbed, you couldn't help but imagine the faces of campers upon your return. You pictured the awe in their eyes, the pride in their voices, and most of all, the look on Luke's face when he realized the extent of your lone success, his disbelief mingling with a begrudging respect.

"Hey-"

The sound of your name startled you out of your thoughts. You were trudging through the grass when you spotted a body sitting under a pine tree, shaded from the sun by its leaves.

Luke looked up at you, frowning, "Took you long enough."

His dishevelled dark curls fell over his eyes, a stark contrast against the vibrant greenery surrounding him. With a resigned sigh, he rose to his feet, his movements fluid yet tinged with an air of impatience Luke picked up a bag by his side, tossing it over his shoulder. It wasn't until he emerged from the tree's shade that you noticed the subtle changes in his attire. Gone was the signature orange camp shirt, replaced instead by a more subdued navy tee that hugged his frame. His old cargo pants remained the same, but different nonetheless.

Eyeing his bag, you could spot smaller daggers strapped to the sides, prepared for anything. It took you a few seconds to process why he was there. You squint at the sun as he steps out from under the tree. "You came."

He huffed, "Obviously."

You let out a breathless chuckle, maybe one of relief since honestly, despite everything you'd been trying to convince yourself of, you were terrified to leave on your own. 

"Why?" you asked, your voice betraying a hint of uncertainty as you adjusted the straps of your own bag. The question hung in the air, unanswered. Of course. You almost rolled your eyes as Luke began to descend the other side of the hill. With a fleeting glance over his shoulder, he wordlessly beckoned you to join him by tilting his head to the side impatiently.

You grinned then, wide and bright. "I know I said I didn't care if you came or not, but I'm glad you're here."

He showed no sign of acknowledgment of your sentiment, his gaze fixed ahead as he continued to walk once you joined his side.

As the minutes stretched on in silence, broken only by the rhythmic crunch of leaves underfoot, you found yourself lost in thought. It was only when the distant hum of passing cars reached your ears, their blurred forms darting through the forest's fringe, that you were jolted back to the present.

Drawing to a halt near the forest's edge, you felt the weight of uncertainty settle upon you. With a hesitant pause, you turned to face Luke, the question that had been gnawing at your mind poised on the tip of your tongue.

"Why'd you stop?" He asked.

"I just..." Your voice wavered, uncertainty lacing your words as you struggled to articulate your thoughts. You worried that if you said the wrong thing he'd leave you stranded right there and return to camp while the two of you were still walking distance from it. It annoyed you a little; how much you had to walk on eggshells with him.

You couldn't help but wonder how different things might have been if you hadn't chosen him. You were being stupid when you picked him, you decided. You already regret it. Maybe Luke was right, the Oracle was just trying to get into your head.

"What made you change your mind? About coming on the quest?" you finally managed to voice, your eyes meeting his in search of answers.

He looked at you, brown eyes flitting over your expression, before licking his lips and simply stating: "If you break an arm, so do I."

That had been the closest Luke Castellan had ever been to admitting he had a soulmate.

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[itoshiexx]

wonder

synopsis: sae wondered what it was like to be loved by you.

pairing: itoshi sae x gn!reader | words: 800 | warnings: established relationship, tooth rotting fluff, sae is stupidly in love with u

notes: why hello! i'm barely alive! i know i kinda disappeared but i was struggling with personal issues and my mental health, so i didn't really have creativity to write. i'm not sure i like this either, but i couldn't let sae bae's bday go by without posting anything. also this is slightly inspired by the song "wonder - shawn mendes". thank you for your love and patience! <3

masterlist

there are certain things itoshi sae would never admit. like the way he loved calm walks at the beach or how seagulls were his favorite animal. how he secretly regret hurting his little brother’s feelings when he was a stupid teenager. how his life was way lonelier than the world could even imagine, making him hate the walls of his oh so empty apartment.

mostly, he would never admit he wondered what it was like to be loved — not just by anyone, though, but to be loved by you.

he’s not sure when it started. he can’t pinpoint the exact moment his heart began beating faster and his black and white world was filled with color, but he does know that, inevitably, it all comes back to you, like you’re some sort of big bang that created his whole existence. itoshi sae doesn’t think he was actually himself before he became yours.

if you ask him, he’d say it’s a bit pathetic, really. he was never a guy that cared about romance, and he definitely didn’t believe in the concept of a love that could sweep you off your feet, like the hollywood movies desperately tried to sell. perhaps one of the reasons he liked you so much was because you managed to prove him wrong, and not many people were able to do that. 

sae was usually right. but you, in his life — that was even more right than his stupid beliefs. 

“sae, i need to get up,” your voice breaks him from his stupor, and, instinctively, his hold on your waist tightens. it’s some sort of protection, he thinks. not to you, but to protect him from the pain of having you stray away. 

(he never wants to let go).

the football player twists his body to trap you even further on the mattress, burying his face on your chest and tangling his legs with yours. your giggle reverberates through his whole body and brings warmth to his cheeks. his heart flutters, and he can’t even find it in him to hate it. 

you must have put a spell on him, he concludes.

“i’m serious. i need to make breakfast,” you say again when he doesn’t answer.

“don’t wanna.”

“you don’t want breakfast?”

“nuh-uh.”

you giggle again, and this time, you seem to give in, relaxing your body and welcoming him in your embrace. sae can only sigh in satisfaction when you card your fingers through his reddish-brown locks, relishing in the peace only you seem to be able to give him.

“i wonder what people would think if they knew how clingy the all mighty itoshi sae can be,” the teasing lit in your tone doesn’t go unnoticed by him, and you earn a scoff.

“shut up,” he quips, although there’s no real bite in it. “you love me.”

and you must not be from this world, because it’s easy — the way you pick up on any slight nuance of his voice or demeanor. it’s so fucking easy for you to read him like an open book and to give the reassurance he so desperately needs; albeit unaware. 

your voice becomes impossibly soft, “i do, baby. i love you so much.”

you kiss his forehead, and after wandering around for so long, sae thinks he’s finally home. 

for a while, you two just stay there, in bed, wrapped in each other in a way you can’t know where he starts and where you end. the thought of being one with you makes him happy, but that’s just another item in his long list of things he would never admit. 

your sweet voice breaks the silence. 

“we’re gonna be in bed all day?” there’s nothing but pure curiosity in your voice. no judgment — you never judge him, despite the way he deserves it sometimes. the thought makes his chest tighten with the amount of love he has harbored just for you.

sometimes he thinks he’s too small for it, and he’s scared all this love will overflow and consume him whole. though, it’s even scarier to think he wouldn’t mind: sae is yours. you can have all that he has and all that he is. 

“just a little longer,” he whispers, a little more vulnerable than he would like. but it’s okay. it’s always okay when it’s you. “please?”

you hum in agreement, continuing to caress his hair. 

“of course. whatever the birthday boy wants.”

sae allows himself to close his eyes and bask in your warmth, on the safety that you so effortlessly gave him. by smelling your perfume, he’s filled with gratitude for all the times he wondered what it was like to be loved by you.

“happy birthday, love.”

he’s glad he doesn’t have to wonder anymore.

© 2023 itoshiexx. do not plagarise, translate, or repost any of my work on here or other sites.

[skzstannie]

"Just Breathe"

SKZ -> Minho x GN!reader

genre: exes to ??, hurt/comfort, angsty wc: ~1,200 cw: brief descriptions of a panic attack, reader has claustrophobia but it's not directly mentioned

summary: After a nasty breakup, you're hoping to never see Minho again. However, when your stuck in an uncomfortable situation, Minho is right by your side yet again.

A/N: Well hello again! It's been forever, so I thank you for being so patient. School has been stressful as ever (I'm actually procrastinating as I write this), but I wanted to get something out to you guys even if it's short and kinda shitty (but oh well). I have a few requests, and once school eases up, I'll get right on them! Just want to make sure they're good quality.

Not proofread (oops)

Happy Scrolling! | Masterlist

"What I wouldn't give to live in a different apartment complex right now," you sigh, standing as you wait for the elevator.

The elevators have had a vendetta against you all week, and you've been trying to not let it get to you, but after waiting for the fifth minute with no luck, your patience starts to run a little thin.

Taking the stairs is always an option, however, you live on the 15th floor, and 30 flights of stairs is certainly not for the weak. You would know, as yesterday you took the alternative route. It left you a sweaty mess with sore limbs and blisters on the back of your heels, something you're not looking to experience on the daily.

Finally, the elevator dings, signaling it's arrival, and you pick your bag up from the floor. A load of people step out the elevator, explaining why it took so long to arrive. You step in, turning to press your floor. The doors begin to close, but a hand sticks itself in to the gap before they close all the way. Your eyes narrow at the person before they're even in your view, upset that you're once again behind held up.

All you want is to go upstairs and lay on your couch to take a nap.

What sliver of patience you had left in you quickly diminishes once you see who has stopped the elevator.

Lee freaking Minho, your ex. Things didn't exactly end well between the two of you. There were multiple accusations of cheating going around about the both of you, and neither of you were putting enough trust in the other person. He thought he was the one to end it, and you thought you were the one to end it- so things didn't end on a very concise note. Not that you were complaining; after the blowout fight you two had, you were hoping to never see him again. This was unlikely though, as he lived in the same apartment complex as you.

His eyes widen upon seeing your agitated stance, and he scoffs when you roll your eyes. You hope for a moment he'll just turn around and walk out upon seeing you, but your heat drops when he doesn't. In fact, he has the audacity to even ask you to press his floor.

"17, please," he smirks at you, sarcasm dripping from his tongue.

"What, you can't reach over there yourself?"

"No can do sweetheart, you know I'm not one for unnecessary movements," he snaps back, leaning back against the cool elevator wall.

You scowl at him before relenting, reaching over to press his floor for him.

It's silent for a moment, and you relish in the peace of not having to hear him run his mouth. All good things must come to an end, unfortunately.

"You know, if you keep scowling like that it might stick forever," he comments, crossing his arms over his chest. You once might've fawned at the way his shirt tightens around his chest and arms, but the only emotion you feel now is annoyance.

"I'm sure you know from experience, right?" you shoot back, keeping your head facing forward as to not give him any satisfaction.

Just try to ignore him.

You can see out of your periphery how he rolls his eyes, pulling his phone out of his back pocket to busy himself.

You breath a little easier upon seeing he's going to leave you alone now, and you bring yourself to watch the different floors pass as the elevator goes up.

You watch as you hit floor 10, then suddenly the elevator jerks to a stop. You stumble a bit, not expecting the jolt. The number disappears, and the elevator, once lit with the overhead light, turns pitch black.

Your breathing immediately picks up, and you crouch on the floor to try and ground yourself.

"Y/N?" Minho says, his voice shaky and apprehensive.

"Shut up," you tell him, focusing on trying not to hyperventilate.

"It'll be fine," he says, trying to reassure both you and him, "I'll just press the emergency button, and hopefully they'll have it up and running again soon."

You don't respond. You bring your hands up into your hair, subconsciously tugging at the strands roughly. You squeeze your eyes tightly, anything to distract from the panic bubbling up through your chest.

You feel a hand rest gently on your back, but you immediately push it away. as if it's burned you. Minho's brought out his flashlight from his phone, illuminating the elevator in a soft glow.

"Don't touch me," you rasp out, falling back onto your bottom. You bring your knees up to your chest, burying your head between them.

"You need to calm down, you're going to give yourself a panic attack."

While you'd love to scream at him, tell him that he's not allowed to comfort you anymore. That he's not allowed to tell you what to anymore. That he had his chance to be a good boyfriend, but he threw it away.

You wish you could tell him all those things. Scream in his face, tell him how badly he'd hurt you. He'd hurt you bot only by accusing you of cheating on him, but also with hanging out with your ex-best friend, someone he knew had hurt you very badly in the past, enough for you to cut all ties with her.

While this is what you wanted to do, you know your body needed something different.

Throughout your relationship, Minho was your rock. Through thick and thin, he'd always been there for you. Every accomplishment, every set back. Every celebration, and, in turn, every panic attack. Unfortunately, the latter happened more frequently than you'd like to admit, and he'd gotten quite good over the years at comforting you through them.

So, deciding to listen to what you knew your body needed, you gave in.

"Please just hold me," it came out as a whisper, but Minho had no problem hearing you over the silence encompassing the elevator.

While you were having your own internal battle, Minho was also contemplating his options.

He knew if he held you, if he comforted you, all those emotions he'd suppressed for the last few months would resurface. He'd worked so hard to get his life back on track, all for you to inadvertently ask him to throw it all away.

In his heart, he knew what he needed to do. It was the just the two of you in this elevator, and he'd be a monster to tell you no, especially since he knew what would happen if he did.

So, with that, he quickly dropped down onto the floor. He wrapped his strong arms around you, and immediately you felt the panic begin to subside. It was amazing what this presence could do to your fragile mind in times like these; it never failed to amaze you.

You leaned your head against his chest, taking slow and deliberate breaths to try and slow your heartrate down.

"That's it. You're ok, we'll get out of here. Just breathe." He let his arms tighten around you, and he realizes just how much he missed having you in his arms. How natural it felt for him to comfort you in this way.

"I'll get you out of here."

[gremlinmodetweeker]

Mischief and Mayhem

So this story did not go how I wanted. I'm not too happy with it, but I needed it done and over with. So! I hope you all enjoy some monster hybrid!König and take care!

TWs: König being a menace, a referenced lunchroom brawl

Wordcount: 3k

Art from This Post

Story Below the Cut

Mischief and Mayhem

So, training didn’t work either. Getting through to König was certainly turning out to be more of a challenge than expected. He was big, tall, stubborn and most of all, mischievous.

It was a trait that hadn’t gone on record, and it was a crying shame it wasn’t because it would’ve helped prepare you for him. He liked to unsettle you. He relished in your discomfort. At the very least, that’s what it seemed like. It didn’t help that he had a penchant for destruction.

You first saw it when he was fiddling with a ring at lunch.

“What’cha got there, König?” you asked as you slid into the seat across from him.

He held examined it for a moment, almost like he didn’t know himself. He held it up with a flick of his wrist, “A ring.”

“Okay I can see that,” you internally sighed, “I was asking why you had it.”

“You said what did I have, not why did I have,” he stared at you blankly, as though it were the most obvious answer in the world. In a way, he had a point, but it still unnerved you.

You picked up your knife and fork to tuck into your meatloaf, “Okay, sure, whatever. Still, why do you have it?”

“I found it,” he replied.

“Where?” you felt a tendril of suspicion curling in your gut.

“Not here,” he snorted.

Well, that was helpful.

You were about to ask more when a sobbing sergeant burst into the room.

You immediately snapped your head up to look at the poor man as he ran to a group of men. From the corner of your eye, you saw König tilt his head curiously. He seemed strangely interested in the scene, almost amused. 

Something wasn’t right here. König never looked interested in anybody else.

You walked over to the poor sergeant, practically beside himself with misery. He looked pathetic, and the men around him were quick to glare at you, almost as though you were violating his manhood by approaching him when he was in such a vulnerable state. You took a deep breath. You were a higher rank now, you could do this.

“Um, excuse me,” you shuffled awkwardly, “what’s going on here?”

“Why do you care?” one of the men grunted.

“Can’t you see him crying?” another sighed, “leave a man to grieve in peace.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry, did he lose somebody?” you asked nervously.

“Not somebody,” the first man said as he rubbed his friend’s back, “something. He lost his wife’s ring.”

“He’s been searching all day,” the second looked down sadly at his companion.

You glared back at König, who was watching you, completely still.

“I think I might know where it is,” you said slowly.

The man immediately raised his head and blubbered, “Y-you do?”

“Here, follow me,” you instructed and stalked back over to where König sat.

König, for his part, looked the perfect part of innocent where he sat. His hands were tucked under the table in front of him to keep them hidden, most likely still fiddling with the ring. His big round blue eyes, downward tilted as though always sad, looked up at you as you approached with a small squad of men.

“König,” you crossed your arms, “give it back.”

“Give what back?” he asked.

“The ring. I saw you playing with it earlier,” you snapped.

“What ring?” König had the gall to look confused, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Ma’am,” a man behind you cut in, “you’re not seriously saying the colonel has anything to do with this, are you?”

You looked back at him irritably, “I’m telling you I saw him with a ring earlier this morning.”

“I’m sorry miss, but I don’t think König took it,” a man with warm sepia skin looked at you sternly, “as his handler, you’ve gotta know that König isn’t that kinda guy.”

“No I’m serious!” you whirled on the group, “I saw him with it just a few minutes ago!” you turned back to König, “alright up on your feet. I’m finding that ring.”

König begrudgingly got to his feet before you. You instructed him to stretch out his arms before you, which he gladly did. He gave the others a knowing look before glancing back down at you as you stuffed your hands into his pockets. All that came out was…

“König what the fuck,” you mumbled as you pulled out the contents of his pocket.

“Men, I think Private Weiss might have what you’re looking for,” he nodded to a gruff looking man sitting at a luncheon table. Beside him sat a shining ring.

“Damn bastard,” the sergeant hissed as he jogged over to the man with the others following hot on his heel.

You watched as the sergeant punched the private square in the temple. Not a moment later, there was a brawl rolling across the floor with chairs being hurled while food flew through the air.

Meanwhile, the man with the highest authority in the room, König, stood by and watched gleefully.

You fisted the handful of König’s pocket contents and pulled König down to your height roughly with a growl, “What the fuck did you do.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry,” König sighed, “I guess I must have given it back to the wrong person.”

You were fuming, moreso when König chuckled at how bright red your face slowly flushed.

König looked you up and down with an appraising eyes before shifting his weight to one foot, “You look cute when you’re angry.”

“Excuse me!?” your eyes nearly popped out of their sockets.

König stiffened, his eyes going wide before darting away from you.

“I’m sorry,” his voice was uncharacteristically small.

“I-You know what we can deal with that later. Why did you set me up like that?” you scowled.

“I’m sorry handler but you set yourself up there,” König shrugged, “but look, wasn’t that fun?”

“Fun?” you scoffed, “König you stole a man’s wedding ring. What fucking part of that is fun!?”

“The part where he punched Private Weiss in the face, really,” König replied blithely.

You glanced back behind you to where a few people were finally breaking up the brawl that had sprawled over the floor. When you looked back at König, he was practically glowing with mirth.

“You’re a dick,” you spat.

König faltered briefly before steeling himself again, “So?”

“So?” you squawked, “so? That’s seriously the best you can come up with? I-” you shook your head, “look, I can’t have you doing that again. You can’t be causing fights on base for your own ‘entertainment’ or whatever.”

König sighed. It felt like you were punishing a petulant child rather than a grown soldier. You could hardly believe that this was actually what you were doing. You were hired to be a handler for a man, not a malicious school boy. You were really going to go bald by the end of this contract.

“Seriously,” you said, “don’t go pitting soldiers against each other. You could get dishonorably discharged for that kind of shit.”

“Nobody else has figured it out,” König replied.

“Well I did. So do something else to have fun. Go play video games or whatever,” you instructed him sternly, “if I can figure it out, it’s a wonder somebody else hasn’t.”

“Most people don’t really pay attention to what I do,” König huffed.

You didn’t know quite what to do with that. On one hand, something about the way he said it made you terribly sad. On the other, he still stole a man’s ring to start a fight.

“Look, it doesn’t matter if people don’t know it’s you, what matters is that it’s a shitty thing to do,” you tried to reason with him, “like come on man. We’re not in kindergarten anymore.”

“Nein,” König muttered

“So then act like it.”

König rolled his eyes. You hoped he got the message, but a part of you worried he would just be more secretive next time. Either way, time would tell if he actually listened or not.

For the rest of the day, life on base was unusually calm. There weren’t any fights, nobody lost belongings, nobody discovered anything unfortunate in their room. Everyone seemed to be having a wonderful day.

König, on the other hand, was not.

He seemed miserable now. He was constantly under your watch to ensure he didn’t get into any trouble, but it seemed to be bearing down on him. In fact, the constant observation seemed to be putting him on edge.

“König, do you need anything?” you asked for the umpteenth time as he sat doing his paperwork.

He glanced up at you with a bitter glare, but quickly shook his head and went back to his work.

You noted that his leg was bouncing so hard that the water on his desk was shaking. His free hand was constantly clenching into a fist, then relaxing to rub his fingertips together. Then he’d do it again, hiss, fidget, and settle again. You hadn’t seen him sit still once since he sat down.

You couldn’t help but wonder if this was because of you dressing him down so thoroughly that morning. You couldn’t help but think about how ridiculous he was acting if this was all because of that. Any other hybrid you dealt with would take any instructions on the chin and push forward, correcting their behavior to be a better soldier. The way König was sulking was driving you up the wall.

Unfortunately for you, it kept getting worse. As the week went on, König was coming undone at the seams.

He was a wreck under your care, and you were getting worried. König wasn’t acting childishly, you realized. He was acting… Anxious. Why was he so anxious? How was it that this big hulking soldier flinched when spoken to? It was completely bizarre.

Worst of all was the call you got from the higher ups.

“You’re a damn handler,” the man on the line spat, “figure it out! If he keeps going like this, I promise you I’ll personally assign you to the lowest ranking infantryman on base.”

“I’m sorry sir,” you stammered, “I don’t know why he’s been like this!”

“Well, figure it out!”

The line went dead, leaving you holding the heavy landline phone in a limp hand. Dread washed over you at the thought of reassignment. Was König really getting that out of hand?

That night, you went online to your discord group. Somebody had to know what was happening. You sent a message to your fellow handler friends and waited for a response.

“What hybrid type is he?” one user asked.

“Have you read his medical files? Maybe you should read them over again,” another person offered.

You had his file spread out before you, but nothing stood out. Everything seemed normal. The only detail that caught your eyes was a simple black block label under his psychological profile: SEVERE SOCIAL ANXIETY.

It wasn’t much, but at least it helped you understand. Something about what you did caused König’s anxiety to flare up. Was it how you spoke to him? Was it what you said? What had caused the flare up?

You sighed and leaned your head into your hands.

Nothing about this was making sense. König was an enigma of a man. Whenever you tried to talk to him, he’d grunt at you or give you one to two word answers. Somehow, he’d actually regressed under your care. You could scream. How had you fucked up so badly?

You pulled out books on hybrid types, trying to analyze the pages for anything that could explain König’s recent behavior change. Unfortunately for you, nothing came up. Long nights of pouring over old texts and messaging your friends were fruitless. It was a maddening cycle.

You’d get up, join König at breakfast, watch him regress over the course of the day, then come back to your room to read and search for answers that never came. The worst of it was that the longer you floundered, the worse König got.

You joined him in the gym, the only place König seemed to wake up again.

You watched him swing from ring to ring in the gym above you as you watched below. König was like a different man in the gym. All the boredom and anxiety left his system when he was doing something active. As soon as the thought passed your mind, it clicked.

König was bored. Painfully bored.

But if he was bored and without an outlet for his anxiety, what could you provide? Nothing in his notes gave any ideas. All they mentioned were an inordinately high IQ matched with an impressive physique. He was the perfect super soldier. He was honestly somewhat intimidating not based on his size, but rather his sheer capabilities.

You needed to learn more about him, but he kept giving you such short answers that you wanted to strangle him.

When König finally trudged over to you for water, you stopped him from leaving.

“Hey, König, do you have a sec?” you asked, trying to be as gentle as possible.

Despite you efforts, he was rolling his eyes as he turned to you.

“So, um, how’ve you been feeling lately?” you watched him carefully for any expressions.

“Meh,” he grunted.

“Okay but, like, what does that mean?” you could feel your hair turning white on your skull.

König shrugged awkwardly, eyes darting to find an exit opportunity but he was unfortunately trapped with you.

“You looking forward to tonight?” you tried to excite him.

König squinted at you, “What’s happening tonight.”

“We’re training your shifted form, remember?” your frown squirmed on your face.

König’s expression fell into one of horror, “No? Why are we doing that?”

“Because I need to get used to your form, remember?” you awkwardly chuckled, “why, is there a problem?”

König shifted his weight from foot to foot, thinking carefully before he finally said, “Sometimes it’s harder to control impulses when I’m shifted.”

You crossed your arms over your chest and leaned back, “What sort of impulses?”

“Ach…” König hissed as he rose and slumped back, “I… I have impulses. You told me I couldn’t act on them.”

“Wait,” you threw up a hand, “you mean the thing about hurting people?”

“No, it’s…” König wobbled side to side, “I like to be entertained.”

You nodded slowly. You were grateful he was opening up, but something seemed wrong about what he was trying to say. 

You continued onwards, “So what does that mean?”

König sighed and turned. You were about to grumble when you saw him curl a finger, gesturing for you to follow. You obliged, walking over to a bench to sit beside him. He looked so heavy, almost as though the weight of him and his feelings on the bench would make the metal crumple at any moment. You perched delicately beside him, nervous of what was to come.

“When I ‘hurt’ people, it’s fun because I get to… I get to make a game,” he explained, “it’s fun. I set up a scenario, and then I watch it play out. It’s strategy, ja?”

You nodded slowly as you attempted to follow along.

“I just get so bored on basse. There’s nothing to excite me, keep me stimulated,” he explained, “so messing around and setting up dominoes to watch them fall makes me feel… Accomplished. Like I did something. And it’s funny! It’s funny to watch them struggle!”

You leaned forward to put your chin in your fist, a bit blown away but what König was saying. On one hand, it made sense. He was far too intelligent for his own good, so it made sense he’d constantly be searching for stimulation. It also made sense that König would take joy in setting up scenarios and watching them play out. He was a colonel, he was used to playing with people’s minds. 

Of course, that didn’t mean you could let König continue to run rampant on base. He’d been nothing short of a menace, and you’d noticed that most people on base seemed to relax in the past few days. But of course, König’s personal performance had suffered with the ban on pulling practical jokes. And fundamentally, the health and wellbeing of your hybrid was of utmost importance to your career (and your mental sanity), so unfortunately…

You sighed, already regretting what you were about to say.

“Alright, so, if the impulses are hard to control, how about we make a deal?”

König immediately perked up. He swung his clothed head to face you, the first time he’d actively looked at you in ages.

“A deal?” he asked in the politest tone you’d heard since you’d started talking to him.

“What about,” you hissed through your teeth, “we put some caps on these pranks. No more emotional torture, okay?”

König huffed, “What I did wasn’t emotional torture, it was just light ribbing.”

“König.”

He rolled his eyes and sighed dramatically, “If you really must. I will not make people cry, does that sound good enough?”

You pulled your lips into a line, but you gave him a cautious nod.

“Wunderbar,” he nodded, “then I get to play my games again?”

“Hold on just a sec,” you interrupted quickly, “you gotta put a cap on it. I’m letting you pull one stunt a day, alright?”

König bristled, “One?”

“One.”

König hummed and hawed over it for a moment, then gave in with a sigh, “Alright, one. I can manage with that. It will… It will take the edge off.”

You frowned, “Okay so, your big thing is you like making and solving problems, right?”

König nodded.

“Well…” you thought carefully, “okay, so, tomorrow I’ll get you a book. Today? I guess I’ll just have to deal with whatever you give me, rihgt?”

König nodded solemnly, “I’m afraid you might. I’m sorry about that.”

“So does that mean you’re going to throw me or…”

“I just…” König snorted, “I might be a bit of a handful. Nothing bad, but not easy, you understand?”

You grimaced, “I think so.”

You had the horrible feeling tonight, training with König would be absolutely miserable. The worst part? You knew you were right.

Konig Dump

Alternate Universe Stories

[miguelswifey04]

Could I ask some fluff with clingy Miguel? 🌿 Like the reader had been dedicating all day to their hobbies, reading, just for the sake of some peace and quiet, and at the end of the day Miguel kinda starts acting like a needy cat, not admitting that he wants attention but it's still pretty obvious? And ofc the reader just showers him with all their attention BUT with a bit of teasing

yes so cute!!! 🤎🧘🏽‍♀️

clingy! miguel x calm! reader (fluff)

you had spent the entire day immersed in your hobbies, relishing the peaceful solitude and the freedom to lose yourself in the world of books. it was a rare opportunity to indulge in some uninterrupted "me time," and you had enjoyed every precious moment of it.

as the day turned to dusk and you began to wind down, you couldn't help but notice the subtle shift in miguel’s behavior. he had an air of playfulness about him, yet there was an underlying need for attention that he couldn't quite conceal. he laid on top of you, laying his head on your stomach as his big arms wrapped tightly around your waist.

you softly closed your book and looked up at miguel, a knowing smile playing at your lips. "something on your mind, mi amor?" you asked, your tone even and teasing. miguel’s cheeks flushed slightly, but he maintained an air of nonchalance. "oh, nothing, mi cielo. just thought i’d spend some time with the love of my life," he replied, feigning nonchalance but failing to hide the longing in his eyes.

in that moment, your heart melted at the sight of his vulnerable desire for closeness. you couldn't resist indulging his needs, fueled by a mixture of affection and playful teasing. "well, how could i resist such a charming invitation?" you replied, your voice brimming with mirth.

as you closed your book and gave miguel your full attention, his face lit up with pure delight. he was like a cat, reveling in the affection showered upon him, and you were happy to oblige. with a mischievous twinkle in your eye, you playfully tousled his hair, eliciting a giggle from him.

the evening passed in a flurry of laughter and affectionate touches, as you indulged miguel’s need for attention. you showered him with kisses and tight embraces, cherishing the opportunity to make him feel as adored as he made you feel every day.

in the soft glow of the evening, the two of you found comfort in each other's arms, basking in the pure joy of connection and love. miguel’s needy facade faded away, leaving only the intimate bond that had grown between you.

as the evening wore on, you realized that the peace and quiet you had sought earlier in the day paled in comparison to the sweet serenity you found in miguel’s presence. together, you created a space where both of your needs were met, where you could revel in togetherness and bask in the warmth of love.

tags 🏷️!! @kairiscorner @emiemiemiii @sabcandoit @meeom

[thegreenthepeacetheorange]

Everlark (Catching Fire, Ch. 17)

katniss looking at peeta to help save her like he did last year when they're being questioned by haymitch and effie after the individual assessments is so cute (and this time he can't because he did something equally rebellious!)

peeta painting that picture of rue is so him. soft but glaringly rebellous. revolution through kindness. and katniss loves him for it

the fact that they both did something similar and scandalous, without meaning too. again being so in tune. and the fact that it makes katniss appreciate peeta in a new way. catching fire is really her falling for him so completely, after really uncovering every part of him. she's so fascinated by him

they have haymitch so stressed though. a single mom who works two jobs!

katniss initiates the hug with peeta, after a few days of frostiness

her finally understanding what peeta said about not being a piece in the capitol's games, after learning just exactly how he avoids being that through his personality and choices

i made this post a while ago and here katniss kinda confirms how loving peeta/her relationship itself is an act of rebellion and defiance in the face of the capitol: "the beauty of this idea is that my decision to keep peeta alive at the expense of my own life is itself an act of defiance... my private agenda dovetails completely with my public one."

she's saving him selfishly for herself and her own peace of mind but she knows that her doing this is revolutionary

"i just want to spend every possible minute of the rest of my life with you" peeta pls

them sleeping together again making katniss realise how much she's craved him and his warmth. they chase away each other's nightmares wrapped in each other's arms ugh

them just lazing together in bed speaks so much to the relationship they've developed since the victory tour. they're so content and at peace just being together.

the rooftop scene!!!

another instance of them having normalcy in their lives and how they relish being together in it. it's nothing extraordinary but they're so happy just being together.

peeta sketching katniss, katniss lying with her head on his lap while he plays with her hair

her allowing him to live in that moment forever. her joining him in that moment forever. ugh.

the toasting ceremony that suzanne made up. like if it wasn't clear that everlark were the intended endgame from this then idk for you! district 12 couples marry by toasting a piece of bread (ahem) over a fire (ahem). the toasting ceremony symbolises union. one of the things that went over my head reading this as a 14 year old

[matildareddx]

kinda domestic!abby x reader

[ warnings: very brief mention of ow*n,and that's pretty much it this is just pure fluff honestly,,,, enjoy!]

the soft glow of the lamp casts a warm, comforting light in the dimly lit bedroom. lying in your back, you watch abby's back rise and fall as she sleeps peacefully, her head resting against your shoulder, you can feel her warm breath tickling the skin of your neck.

it's one of those days, were she comes back late in the night, completely exhausted from a particularly long shift at work. she didn't utter a single word, simply undressing to her underwear, and getting in bed with you, crawling into your arms. and you were more than happy to oblige, gently undoing her tight braid before wrapping her in a warm embrace.

tracing delicate patterns on her back, relishing the feel of her warm skin under your touch. you move your hand up, her soft blonde hair feeling like silk between your fingertips, as you gently run your fingers through it. you feel her arms wrapped tightly around your waist, not even thinking about letting you go a minute sooner than she has to.

holding her close, you look at her calm expression, deep asleep, and your mind travels a few years back, reminiscing about your journey together. the difficulties you encountered, and her previous relationship with owen, when you truly believed you would have to bury your feelings for her six feet under and never be able to be honest about how much love you had for her. you smile warmly at the bittersweet thought, because you couldn't have been more wrong. now, she's here with you, happily snuggled into your safe embrace, and you can't help but feel immensely grateful about how far you two have come together.

this kind of moments with you, quiet, peaceful, comforting, filled with love and affection, make abby's world warmer, brighter, as she never thought someone could love her as purely and selflessly as you do. and as you bask in the warmth of her love, you can't help but feel utterly blessed to have her in your life.

matildareddx © || 𓆩♡𓆪

[alright first serious post i'm totally not nervous (i'm actually dead on the floor) hope u like it i love abby i love fluffy abby i love her i love women]

please like and repost it if you like it!! big kisses have a good day [✎ (❁ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈) ༉‧ ♡*.✧]

[aphinthestars]

Birthday Smooches

Tell a friend to tell a friend she's BAAAAAAAACK

I know I'm 3 days late to Miguel's birthday but I've been INCREDIBLY busy yall have no idea but that's an adventure for another day, since I took so long to complete this drawing yall get a one shot with it! It's still canonical to my lore btw

Yall know I love my art a little sketchy, let's me put out art faster + it has been looking good with the type of coloring I've been doing but what most of you probably didn't know is I use a rainbow pencil brush to make them! I like to use it since it helps me find mistakes faster and it looks cute, I kinda liked it enough to leave it for this drawing :3

Slight content warning for the one shot: Just one suggestive comment because it's Aph, she loves to make those LMAO

Miguel had never liked his birthday, not when he was younger and not now when he was older.

He had celebrated after adopting Didi, not wanting to tell the small girl that the reason he didn't celebrate was because of her own grandmother.

He wouldn't kill the peace like that, not for his kid.

For years it was just him and Didi celebrating, the occasional appearance of Gabriel to celebrate but not much else.

Not until he started dating Aph.

Though Aph had also had horrible experiences with her birthday, her friends had made them lighthearted and celebrated no matter what so she believed in celebrating the life she had.

Miguel couldn't break her heart like that.

Once again, he thought, once again he was stuck celebrating for someone else's sake.

But it didn't feel like it.

Aph knew the person she was dating, knew her partner like the back of her hand.

So she made sure all the celebrations were made to think about him and only him.

Like making sure people didn't bother him during that day which let him work in his projects in peace.

Buying him his favorite lunch and eating while watching one of his favorite movies, having a nap on the couch afterwards.

Dancing in the kitchen to their playlist.

Baking him his favorite cake, chocolate tres leches, getting the recipe from his favorite bakery by pleading and pleading.

But finally and Miguel's favorite tradition for his birthday since he and Aph got together.

Birthday smooches.

Though Miguel wouldn't admit it he loved the tradition to death, he couldn't wait for it every year.

Aph started doing it as a joke but at the face of her sweet man she couldn't stop the tradition.

She would give him a kiss for every year of life, the only time Miguel relished getting older as every year he would get another kiss.

Miguel would be so happy to see his face covered in her lilac lipstick, making him look like a field of lilacs.

He was enamored and he knew it.

"Quit your moving, cielo"

"Can't help it"

"Miguel I'm not gonna keep kissing you if you keep squirming" Aph huffed giving him a taunting pat to his chest.

Miguel chuckled tightening his hold on her thighs "Fine, but I expect perfect imprints, last year they were sloppy, mi luna"

Aph scoffed "I'm gonna do something else sloppy later" She teased pressing another kiss to the side of his face.

He laughed, one of those laughs that make your whole chest and belly move, a laugh that showed his fangs from his mouth being so open "Happy birthday to me"

She sighed, getting into a fit of giggles "Happy birthday to you, mi sol"

"May you live a long and happy and beautiful life, mi corazón" Aph spoke softly, pressing a kiss to his nose.

Miguel looked up at her, hearts in his eyes as he felt the tops of his ears and cheeks warm "Thank you, mi tesoro"

Taglist: @sweetimpurity @sweetimpurityloves @stressedmacaronisalad @bluemadnessstuff

[tired-teacher-blog]

hi teach! how are you? i'm kinda new to your account and i gotta say i adore your writing 😌✨

is it okay if i request any spicy and relationship headcanons for best jeanist? i can barely find any content of him lately 😔

if you don't write for jeanist it's okay! i hope you have a great day/night! ♡ (ps: thanks for the follow🥺)

Hi baby ❤️ your words are making me incredibly happy, you have no idea! And you're absolutely right, there is barely anything out there written for him so let's change that shall we? 😍

Relationship headcanons

Characters : Best jeanist/ Gender neutral reader

Genre : Fluff/ Suggestive themes/ Headcanons

Please do not read if you're a minor

Masterlist|Second Masterlist

SFW :

Meeting the pro hero for the very first time, you were instantly captivated by his flamboyant personality and alluring appearance, however, his eccentricity was a bit too much for you to handle, which was why you kept a little distance between you two, and settled for admiring him from afar.

That was until you learned more about him, and understood that underneath that charming surface, lays a selfless and brave man, one who strives to spread peace and serenity among civilians, even at the expense of his own safety -like a real hero should do-.

When you finally gathered up the courage to confess your newly discovered feelings for him, you were met with a concealed smile from underneath his ridiculously high collar, he was pleasantly surprised to learn about your sentiments and fervently confessed his own.

Being with him is a literal adventure, he is mesmerizing and does everything passionately which is exciting. He is straightforward, and you love that about him.

He has always been proud of you, cheering you on and motivating you to follow your dreams no matter how tough things get.

He talks about you all the time, he just manages to find a way to slip your name into any conversation he's having, no matter if serious or casual said conversation is, he's just smitten and never gets bashful to show it.

You love shopping dates with him, he just has the best taste in clothes and you end up with amazing pieces of garments each and every time.

In addition, he makes you try them out for him once you're home, like a little fashion show just for his eyes. He enjoys your excitement and the little twirls you do in order for him to have a good look at the way they fit you, and he finds himself unable to keep his hands and lips away from you, turning your fitting session into a make out one, -or something even spicier-.

You are his confidant(e) and he trusts you with his life, keeping nothing hidden from you, and seeking your advice when things get tough.

NSFW :

He's so vocal during your intimate times, and body worship is his thing! He enjoys praising you while his lips and fingers cover every inch of your skin. He usually uses fabric related descriptions to address you during those moments, such as: soft, elegant, firm, silky, shiny, velvety, luxurious.

He has an extremely sensitive neck, something you always use to your advantage, because just a simple touch of your fingertips to his skin can bring the most delicious groans out of his mouth. And you usually don't stop at that, adding your lips and teeth to the mix and relishing the goosebumps appearing under your touch.

He goes nuts when you put on a sexy lingerie set for him, not only because of how alluring and enticing you would look, but also because of the way his fingers glide along the delicate fabric before reaching your flesh.

He is passionate and extremely gentle with you, he never does anything hurriedly and always asks how you're feeling before taking the next step. You communicate well and tell each other instantly if one of you wishes to take things slower, or do them harder and faster.

His mouth can do wanders, wether he's kissing your lips, nibbling on your earlobe, sucking on your neck or teats, plunging his tongue into the wetness between your legs, you are always writhing and shuddering and begging for more. And it's vice versa, because you -too- get to witness his aroused expression and needy pleas everytime the roles are reversed.

@battydora

[ritzcuit]

i like to think about the quiet moments in dhurkedatz mountain home ..the quiet mornings smiles. i go back and forth on their sleeping. who falls asleep easier who wakes earlier... but i like the quiettttt moments where the sun is barely awake.... and well of course they share a bed, why bother, even if they have some luxury of space they'd gladly give it up for the growing kids, right? plus it keeps warm :-) so one of them stirs, and gets to catch a glimpse of that quiet moment, looking over at his partner, and all those little feelings....

the dhurke who finds it familiar but different in so many ways, and it's different enough that he doesn't mind finding it familiar... waking up next to another warm body of someone you trust and care about so deeply...it's only natural. he probably has no shame about it at all. there's a million explanations for why looking at datz's resting face makes him feel happy. well they're safe right? they're safe today as well, so he'll savor it... :)

or datz who wakes and get caught up watching the way morning sun passes over his best friend's face, nothing ferocious or putting on a big smile or furrowed brow stressing over tiny details, it's Just Dhurke...and what a rare view that is, huh? he's kinda stealing it, here, he wasn't really *meant* to get to see this, but datz's always prone to being places where he wasn't meant to be, and it's soooo early and it's fine, probably, if he relishes it... 'cause otherwise it'd be unappreciated and well, that'd be a damn shame...

or the dhurke who wakes, and holds his breath and slips out of their bed as carefully as he can, because datz can and will wake up at the drop of a pin, but they're safe, near as dhurke can tell, anyway, and he doesn't want to disturb his friend's sleep :( 'cause he deserves it.

and the datz who ends up waking up soon after anyway 'cause hello, wait, where'd his warmth go hello, he was sleeping with that you monster omg how could you............, </3

or

the mornings where both of them sleep in a little too late and get pounced on by loud rabid children LMFAO bc yeah they're safe in the moment but that doesn't mean they have peace. there's never peace actually

or maybe moments where one of them wakes up and catches the other with that soft, fond look in their eyes, just watching...

or moments where that happens and then they both go wide eyed, a mutual understanding that, wait, if either of make One Peep, we'll be set upon by the hounds. (the hounds are the aforementioned brats)

ijust like to think about it........................

[spaceratprodigy]

D, F and H for fairh and max hehe <3

@hibernationsuit — [ The Fluff Alphabet ]

More Faith and Max content? Don't mind if I do <3

–

D. Domestic (do they want to settle down? how are they with cooking and cleaning?)

I mean, realistically yes. Considering how their lives have been since meeting and even before that, they've been through a fucking lot. They want some rest, they want a peaceful life for themselves to be possible, but there's so much work ahead of them before that can ever be done. But the moment they can have it they are relishing in every moment together that they can, finally being able to breathe and relax their shoulders for the first time in their entire lives.

So, my own personal standing is that canon Faith and Max don't have children. It's not something they want, it's not something that happens for them, and they are more than happy about it, because being together is what's most important. However, I will humor the thought because y'all already know in several AUs they do have a daughter together :]

Faith is quite good at cooking! It's a bit rough for her having to acclimate to exclusively Halcyon food, and often needs Parvati and Max to remind/encourage her to eat, but she enjoys cooking for sure. She does have a preference for baking, having quite the sweet tooth, herself. Max is not that into sweets, but he will try anything she makes. It's fine, it tastes better when it's off her lips anyway. Max I think is fine at cooking, not bad but not the greatest either. He cooks just enough that is satisfactory for his own needs. But if he's cooking for Faith, he puts a noticeable amount of more effort into it.

I think they're both pretty good at keeping clean generally. Too much clutter and lack of organization would bother Faith and she would end up tidying up anyway, but their space is most definitely lived in. They have their own things here and there, their own projects left out for when they return to them in a bit, some books and schematics sitting around, things like that, but not anything that's unbearably messy.

–

F. Fiancé (how do they feel about commitment? how fast do they want to get married?)

Their story is genuinely a slow burn despite me always getting right to the good stuff. By the time they do realize what's going on between them and how very real their feelings for each other are, it is suffocating for them. They are terrified. This is such a new experience for both of them and they don't really know how to handle it, and then Fallbrook Arc happens and it makes everything even more complicated. Because now they're faced with the thing they were trying to avoid acknowledging blowing up in their faces and how they now might lose the best thing that's ever happened to them if they don't wise up and get it together.

But once reciprocation and reconciliation on Scylla happens, they cannot be pried apart ever again after that. Marriage isn't exactly a thing that's on their mind for a long while afterwards, they're just so blissed out of their minds having each other and being together that that's all that matters.

What does spark marriage talk, however, is Gorgon. Let's just kinda skip to the end of these thoughts. Nobody walked away from Gorgon feeling okay. The entire crew was miserable, depressed, hollow, they stayed huddled in the kitchen for days together, no one wanting to be alone after that mission, after everything. Faith and Max were holding each other tighter at night after that.

One day, they need to talk about it. Not really any specific conversation in mind, just needing to get anything off their chests about that place and everything they saw, everything they discovered, what it did to so many people and how it continues to haunt Halcyon. Something leads to another, Max brings up how Faith would feel about making their companionship a little more permanent. How after everything, everything they've been through, and whatever more is to come, if some fate is to befall them, they die with no one to doubt how deeply their love ran for each other, they die not ever being alone, they die knowing they were each other's.

Without a word to anyone but themselves, they start wearing matching rings.

–

H. Hugs (do they like hugs? how often do they do it, and what are they like?)

Faith is Very Weird about being touched in most cases. She likes physical intimacy, but she isn't exactly a people person and it's very hard for her to find that kind of comfort within someone. She doesn't trust or feel safe around most others to put their hands on her in any way. There are few exceptions as her story progresses, but the safe bet is to let her initiate any kind of physical contact.

I think Max is in a similar boat of physical touch not exactly being his strongest love language. So even tho I don't think either of them are super mushy gushy, I do think every touch between them is so charged and intoxicating. They are definitely more private about it.

As for the hugging, I can see it being a very deep experience whenever they do. This long desperate need they didn't realize they craved for so long, the starved feeling that comes with it as they hold on, melting into each other and not wanting to let go, not wanting to lose that comfort. When was the last time they felt something like this? It is a huge sign of love between them to do this.

[amidstnamjin-and-binchanlix]

i don't wanna look at anything else (now that i saw you)

Warnings: Uhhh. Not much. Just some v v light angst, and Jackjack being a teeny tiny bit of a dumbass lil shit. Mentions of alcohol and getting drunk fuk yeah no don't do too much alcohol, kids. body and image insecurities, too.

Pairings: Jackson Wang/Reader

Plot: In another lifetime, another universe, your happy ending has always been in front of you all along.

Genre: light angst, eventual happy ending

And I can still see it all (In my mind)

All of you, all of me (Intertwined)

I once believed love would be (Black and white)

But it's golden (Golden)

And I can still see it all (In my head)

Back and forth from New York (Sneaking in your bed)

I once believed love would be (Burning red)

But it's golden

Like daylight, like daylight

Like daylight, daylight

I don't wanna look at anything else now that I saw you

(I can never look away)

I don't wanna think of anything else now that I thought of you

(Things will never be the same)

I've been sleeping so long in a 20-year dark night

(Now I'm wide awake)

mixtape: all i have left to give - part 1 - part 2 - part 3 - ending 1

Oooooooohhhhweeeeeee

This is crazy

So much has happened since I last posted.

i got psychiatric help so guess who's on meds now? yay (not)

i mentioned here before that when I write the mixtape series, it's not necessarily in chronological order. I already have a rough draft in my mind of how it would go, and I am already planning to write the prequel to the first part, but it won't necessarily mean that it will come first. I also have an idea of what will happen for the ending(s?), but I have yet to muster the energy to write continuously right now bc so much has happened irl

With that being said, my next part will be a glimpse of one of the "what-if" endings. If it irks you that my writings are all over the place, I'm so sorry but I rly cant force my brain to write at one linear pace. As I always say, I hope I don't disappoint, and I'm so sorry if I do.

Thank you so much for loving my babies and for giving them the time of the day. Every time I get a notification of likes/reblogs/kudos/bookmarks, it warms my heart bc wtf it is more than I ever hoped for

thank you so much once again! this part is for those who are rooting for my babie jackjack because hey, he's a fuckin sweetheart and i love him to bits

just a little trigger warning for some insecurities because this is kinda self-projecting, i'm so sorry T_T

🌅

Soft morning light greets you when you open your eyes.

You've always relished in these times—the seconds or minutes of blank bliss and silence in between waking up and lucidity. These are times of peace before facing the storm of the day.

You stare at the ceiling of the room, the cream-colored walls, then the photos that line up your drawers.

So much has happened these past few months. Sometimes, you still can't believe that you've survived through it, that you powered through it. You genuinely thought it would end up killing you, and that you'd die hurting inside out.

But you lived, and you're happy now.

You turn your head to the side to find him, still slumbering. You take a deep breath and dig your fingers into your palm, afraid that this will all be a dream, and that you'll wake up with sweat on your forehead and blood on your lips and sheets.

You honestly would never have made it without him.

The one and only constant in your life, your ride-or-die.

Jackson.

He had been there through everything—the treatments, the hospitalizations, the relapses, and the recovery. He was there to see you fall apart at 3 a.m., see you struggle with breathing at random times of the day, there to see you bleed out from the love you had (have) for the other men who were supposed to love you back unconditionally.

He was there through everything, and he never once let go of your hand.

Sometimes, you think how it would be if you ended up with them; what would happen? Would you be happier? How would it be different from how it is right now?

But then, you think, they never loved you the way you wished to, the way they should've until you were on the brink of death. There would be too much resentment, too much guilt, too much pain. You would never be truly happy.

You feel guilty thinking about these things. You are genuinely happy— happier even—than you've ever been. Jackson never made you feel like you have to be someone else, like you have to live up to someone's high expectations. You never have to cry again, except when he goes on tour and you miss him, or when you're so happy with him that tears just can't help but make confetti in your eyes.

But then, you and Jackson both know that it is inevitable, that the love for the seven men who were once the center of your soul would never really go away. And he's okay with it, you're both okay with it. You've both made peace that they will always be a part of your life. All that matters is Jackson is your home now, that he's the one that you'll come home to. He's the one that you will make a space for in your heart, and the only one that will occupy it and stay for good.

Jackson is home, and he always will be.

You reach out and carefully brush Jackson's hair away from his still-closed eyes. Moments like this you miss the most when he's away on tour and you can't go with him. It gets lonely, but his coming home with the biggest and proudest smile on his face makes everything worth it.

He is worth it, and he always will be.

You scoot closer to his sleeping figure, wrapping your arm around his waist. Februaries are always cold, so his body warmth is heaven-sent. It is also one of the things you miss during times apart. You grew up in a non-affectionate household, touch-starved to the point that you became touch- repulsed. But after getting to know how Jackson feels like home, you can never get enough of his touch. You can never go for too long without it, and you can say you almost reverted to being touch-starved.

You shift to wrap yourself around him, slinging your leg lightly over his. You hear him groan as you bury your face in the crook of his neck, trying not to miss him already. You still have two weeks left before he leaves again for his next tour, but you can already feel the creeping sadness and pit in your stomach.

You're getting separation anxiety again. Maybe it's time to talk to your therapist.

Your fingers find themselves curled on his arms lightly, tracing shapes and absently doodling on his skin. 

"You're up early," comes Jackson's sleep-laden voice, his arms wrapping around your shoulders.

"'m not up yet," you grumble, subtly inhaling the scent of his skin. "And it's already seven AM; not early."

Jackson chuckles. "Okay, okay. No need to get pouty."

You huff. "I'm not pouty," an irony as you can actually feel yourself pout more when he says that. "It's really just not early."

It is early, you actually know it. But you want to spend more time with him before he sets off to wow the whole world again while you stay behind and wait for him to come home, so no, it's not really early.

You feel him kiss your hair. "Ah. I'm still here, but you already miss me." He laughs lightly. "What would you do without me?"

You know it's a joke, but your abandonment issues have been seriously acting up for a while now. You have to swallow before answering.

"I'd die without you," you blink rapidly to stop yourself from crying, trying to keep your tone light. "Terribly, so."

"Hey," Jackson tries to push your shoulder gently to look at your face, but you don't want him to see your crumpled expression.

"Hey, don't cry. It's too early for you to cry." You sniff, not wanting to let go of him. "I'm joking. You can never get rid of me at this point."

"But you can get rid of me," you fail to not sound miserable. "You can find someone else and settle down with them, someone whole."

A pause.

"Someone not broken."

"No." This time, Jackson's tone is firm, almost angry. "I don't like you talking about yourself like this, and I won't get rid of you. Is that what you think of me?"

"No, but you—"

"'But I ' nothing '," he says. He sits you both up and he puts his hands on your shoulders. "I fought nail and tooth just so I can have my happy ending with you. I fought with the law, I fought your soulmates, and I will fight all over again just so I can have this until we grow old and wrinkly. Why would I get rid of someone I've wanted my whole life? That's fucking stupid."

Your lips curl in a slight pout, trembling with all the tears that want to escape. You absently touch your chest, used to the phantom pain that came with the soul-scraping before. It's gone now, but all the things you used to do, used to go through, as well as the painful memories are still here.

"I..." You start, voice hoarse. "Sorry, I just don't want a repeat of that, you know?"

"I know."

"And I know you're not like them, but there are so many reasons things don't work out. And not to be dramatic or what—erm—," you clear your throat, "but I won't survive the next time I go through that again." Not if everything goes into plan, that next step you are planning with him. "It'll kill me."

You won't survive another soul-scraping, you just won't.

"You won't. I won't leave, I promise." Jackson presses a tender kiss on your lips, running his thumb on your cheek as he cradles it gently. "As I said, we'll grow old and wrinkly. We'll be that meme on Facebook where we grow old together and play bump cars with wheelchairs."

You snort softly. "If you damage my rhetorical wheelchair, I'm using yours. You crawl on the ground."

He grins, a lovely sight on his pretty face. "I'll always crawl my way back to you," he croons.

Jackson leans in and captures your lips in a gentle kiss. His hand finds its way inside your top and you flinch unintentionally. He tenses, then pulls away.

"I'm sorry," you hurriedly say.

"Hey," he says, eyes searching your face. "No need to apologize. I'm sorry. We don't need to do anything you don't want to."

"No, no. I want to." You pause, biting your lip. "It's just... my scar." You absently trace your myectomy scar. He looks at you, willing you to go on. "It's ugly." Among all other things.

"You will never be ugly." You open your mouth to retort but he silences you with a serious look. "I love you, scars and all. But as I said, we don't have to do anything. I just want to spend my time with you, and I'm good."

God, you think, I really think I'll marry you.

You surge up with a fierce kiss to his lips, taking your top off before you can change your mind.

"Wait, wait." Jackson puts his hand on yours, stopping you from taking your shirt off. "No."

"No?" You swallow thickly.

"No, not like that," he says hurriedly, seeing your mood shift. "Is it a good day?"

You know what he means, and it is not.

"No," you agree in a small voice. "It isn't."

You've gotten far from your insecurities, but they sometimes come back sneakily, like they did yesterday and today, of all days.

"We can keep your shirt on if you'd like?" he offers.

You take one look at him. Yup, you'll definitely marry him.

"Please?" You implore with your eyes.

He smiles softly. "Then we keep your shirt on."

His smile turns wicked.

"Won't stop me from eating you out from under it, though."

---

"Mark!"

"No," Mark says flatly. "You're not backing out of this."

"But—"

"Do you love him?" he asks.

"Yes!"

"Do you want to marry his ugly face?"

"He's not ugly, but yes!"

"Do you want to spend your lifetime kissing his ugly face?"

"Again, my Jackson is not ugly, but yes, I do!"

"Did you change your mind then?"

"Y—no, I did not!"

"Then why are you backing out?!"

"Because what if he doesn't want to?" [Name] bursts out to which Mark snorts impatiently. "What if doesn't want that for life? That's a lifetime of commitment, Mark. I can't undo that shit."

"You think he would want to?" Mark asks, almost angry, his patience growing thin. He rolls his eyes to heaven when he sees you in near tears.

"He wants to marry your equally ugly face," to which you splutter a 'hey!', "he talks, breathes, and sleeps nothing but [Name], [Name], [Name]." He sighs.

"Do you really think he would let go of you now?"

You know at this point that your fear is redundant and irrational, but you can't help it. Not when your own (ex-)soulmates didn't want you. It took you almost dying, and choosing your dignity and self-respect before they turned around. And even then, it was too late. Your soul is having none of it.

Mark softens at your silence. "Did you talk to your therapist about this?"

You nod. "Yeah. He said that I should start forgiving myself and moving forward and that I should believe that not everyone is like them. Not everyone will leave me."

"He's right. We won't leave you. We're stuck with you, just like how you're stuck with us. Okay?"

"Okay."

"Okay, good. Now, give me my hug because I just got from a long tiring flight because someone didn't want me to ride her private jet." He glares at you.

You laugh. "I told you, I need to fly here earlier than you since you can't cancel your meeting."

"You could've—I don't know—waited for me, maybe?" He pulls you in a tight hug.

Before you two can pull away, however, you both hear the sounds of Jackson's voice and the door opening.

Oh, shit.

You two freeze on your hug. You don't understand why you did but you just feel guilty, like being caught with your hand down your pants. You and Mark pull away from each other quickly.

"What's this? Hugging without me, huh?" Jackson jokes, but you can hear the slight insinuation in his voice, one that Mark does as well.

"Yeah, I'm stealing your girlfriend, Wang. Watch out." Mark smirks lightheartedly.

This bitch!

Jackson's eyebrow twitches. "You wish." They embrace in a brief hug before he turns to you with a soft smile on his pretty face.

Wow. Years in and you still can't get your heart to shut up over his smile.

"Hey," he says softly. "This is a very nice surprise."

"I missed you and the bed was cold," you pout slightly. "So here I am."

"Ah, I knew it. You just want a bed warmer." In the background, you can hear Mark fake gag, and Jackson gives him the finger.

"No, I want my Jackson not an electric blankie, smartass."

"Your Jackson, huh?" Mark fake gags again, and you smile at Jackson's 'fuck off, Tuan'.

"This is not what I signed up for, so I'm leaving you lovebirds to it."

"About time." This time, it's Jackson who grumbles, and you and Mark both laugh. "Shut up."

---

The next few days of the tour see Jackson busier than ever, and so are you. With the tour coming to its end, you scramble to get the last steps of your surprise into place. After all, Jackson deserves the best, and you don't want to give him any less.

This also means that you both get to see less of each other. You miss him and it sucks, and Jackson sometimes gets to receive the burnt of it, unfortunately.

"Hey. It's okay, everything's going to be okay," he says. You are so close to bursting and just saying fuck it, but you can't, so you let out a frustrated growl.

"It is not, stop saying that again and again." It is not. The local producer and local venue producer are being tough nuts to crack for some unknown reason, and are uncooperative. They are the only remaining people you need in on the plan, so it is taking too much time and effort on your part. Not that Jackson is not worth it, but the headache is just a bitch to deal with. "It really isn't so I ask you to kindly fuck off, Jackson. I don't need you patronizing me right now."

"Hey," he says firmly, his jaw heavy set. "I'm not doing anything, so don't take your shit out on me."

Ah, shit.

"Jacks—"

"Is it because I'm taking much of your time?"

"What?"

"Is it because I'm taking your time away to be with Mark?"

Your jaw drops. "Excuse me?"

"You think I don't see how you spend your time with him? How close you two seem to be nowadays?"

Aw, hell no.

"Jackson, no. What the fuck?"

"No, no. It's okay. You don't need to explain, you know? If you want to be with Mark-hyung, it's fine. I'm not gonna stand in the way."

"What are you talking about? Are you saying I'm cheating on you?" you ask in disbelief.

Jackson shakes his head. "I'm saying that if you want to be with him, you don't need to start picking fights just so we can break up." His eyes turn sad. "I'll let you go, you just have to ask."

Your chest hurts at that, stirring up old feelings you thought you'd never be able to feel again. "And you're gonna let me go, just like that?"

Silence.

You laugh humorlessly. "Wow. And you think of me that way, too."

"[Name]—"

"No." You thank whatever fuck there is that you had the foresight to book a separate room to plan your surprise (not that you sleep in it, with you opting to always sleep beside Jackson since arriving) and take your bag from the chair by the window of the suite.

"Thank you for clearing that shit up. At least I know now where I stand."

Jackson grasps your wrist delicately. "Sweetheart—"

You pull your wrist away from him. "Don't 'sweetheart' me, Jackson." He stops at the sight of the brimming tears in your eyes, the hurt painted in it.

"I trusted you with shit, you knew how I abhor those things you accuse me of. You knew how I hated my mom because of the things she did, and yet you dared think I am like her."

"I didn't—"

"Yes, you did, Jackson. Because if you only knew how full I am of you since the day I let those bastards go from my life." You sniff. "It's only and always been you, you, and you. Everyone knew that; everyone knows that."

"I don't—"

"Yeah, you don't. So I'll spare you the time and just leave you be. I never plan to force myself into something or someone, and I don't plan to start now."

Jackson tries to refute that it isn't the case, but you slam the door shut in his face behind you before he can even get a word in.

[ah, these kids. what do i do with you two?]

Jackson looks at the door you just slammed shut in his face, then to the dresser in his suite that you never opened. You two had always been intertwined, but you always gave him his space and privacy. He walks towards it, opens it, and takes the velvet box with the sparkling ring in it.

All I can say is you two are idiots, and everyone will agree with me.

---

"You what?!"

You grumble, shielding your bottle away from Mark. "Please don't shout at me, I'm already having a hard time as it is." You try to pull off your pitiful face, but Mark only makes his own face at you.

To be fair, Mark finds you pitiful, but not in that way. And he kind of wants to punch Jackson in the face right now too because seriously, you and Mark? It's like him and his sisters, what the actual fuck?

He can't blame the man, however. Everyone in the circle knows how Jackson has been wounded by the relationships he was in before, so it's easier for him to switch to defense mode. Jackson has always been prone to leave before he gets left when he feels like the other party is slowly losing interest.

But the dumbass has always been prone to the dumbest dumbassery in the group. And this? This takes the cake, Mark could roll his eyes to heaven.

"And you didn't bother to, I don't know, explain shit to him?" he asks with the patience of a saint.

You pout. You had the audacity to pout and Mark feels the patience slowly slipping away from him. "No. It's not gonna be a surprise anymore if I do."

Holy fuck.

"Are you shitting my dick right now?" he mutters. You only snort and Mark pulls away the bottle from you.

"Hey!"

"Listen to me. It's not gonna be a surprise anymore if you two break up because there'll be no one to surprise. You know he is a dumbass and you decided to be a dumbass too?"

"Hey! He accused me first! I didn't accuse him anything when he shot that sexy ass shoot with the ashes and stuff—"

"—Cruel." Mark supplies helpfully.

"Yes, that. I didn't do that with the main dancer when they've been cute and friendly and shit off cam, and yet he accuses me with you." You belch and gag, and Mark steps away slightly from you to avoid any impending projectile vomiting. "Like 'ew'."

"I agree with you, but how dare you, bitch? Are you saying I'm 'ew'?"

You level him with a look as much as you can with your drunk face, and Mark has never had the urge to headlock a woman before.

"Anyway," you say forlornly, "at least I know where we stand now." You sniff, and Mark feels bad for you (a little).

"No, you really don't. I thought that by now, you would know how he is."

"You weren't there when he said it!" You burst out angrily. "He means it! Do you know how it feels standing there and being practically told that he knows I'll leave him for other people, and that he'll let me?" You burp loudly again. "Me, of all people? When he knew how I detest that shit. With all the things I went through?"

And then you burst into ugly sobs.

[ah, jackson. you really are one dumbass.]

"Hey, hey, no," Mark says, wrapping his arms around you. "Don't cry. You're not allowed to cry. Doctor Im told you you're still healing; you're not even allowed to drink."

"Yet here I am," you say with a shaky laugh that morphs into another sob. "Again."

You're not sure if you're just talking about drinking or the fact that you're on the brink of losing yourself again over lost relationships. It's tiring, really. But it is what it is, as they say.

"Can you—can you please get my bag?" you ask Mark. "By the door, tossed it earlier," you slur.

You've never really shown Mark the ring you want to propose to Jackson with. Mark assumed that it is flashy, and you're never one for flashy things, so you're embarrassed about it.

That's not it, however. Completely the opposite, actually. The engagement ring is totally simple, a silver band encrusted with small diamonds on top. The only flashy thing about it is the bigger diamond heart in the center and the smaller gems that surround it on both sides.

The smaller gems are the highlights, you think. You took them from the necklace with both the birthstones that were gifted by Jackson to you during your first year anniversary and had them cut delicately to fit the ring you had in mind. On the right heart side are your birthstones, while on the left are Jackson's. You know some might find it too feminine, and Jackson might not be able to wear it that much in his line of work, but the ring is the most beautiful thing you have ever created in your life.

And now, Jackson won't be able to see it. That thought brings you to a fresh round of tears.

"Too girly, isn't it?" You ask Mark, who is silent. "And it should be the other way around—he should be the one asking me to marry him. I still would've asked him to marry me with this, Mark. That's how I don't give a shit. I just wanna marry his ugly face, but now I can't."

"You wanna marry me?" Comes a soft voice behind you and Mark. You jerk away, and Mark gently unwraps his arms around you as Jackson steps forward.

"I'll let you lovebirds talk," Mark says as he pulls away, but your wide eyes (as wide as bloodshot eyes can be) are only trained on Jackson. Mark pats Jackson's shoulder with a low 'we'll talk later', and Jackson only nods. It is silent until Mark closes the door behind him.

"You wanna marry me?" Jackson asks again. "You're gonna ask to marry me, [Name]?"

You can only nod, your eyes shut as your tears don't stop falling.

"Stay here," he only says. It's not like you're going anywhere, so you stay put. However, when five minutes turn to fifteen, then to twenty, you start to think that Jackson has either gone to sleep or gone off to god knows where. Before you can even think about getting up and running after him, the door to your suite opens.

"Come here, stand up." Jackson takes your hand and helps you stand up. He wipes your face with his hand, then with the cold cloth that someone hands him (whom you recognize is one of his staff). Other staff start to fuss over you as someone turns on the overhead lights.

"Wait, what?" you ask as someone starts to powder your face. "What's happening?"

You turn to Jackson, who's being ushered into a suit. You are ushered yourself by the few staff he had roped into helping into the other room to change into a tulle sweetheart dress.

"We're getting married."

---

"So, Jackson..." You hear the host through the speakers start his next question as you wait backstage with Mark. Even with the elopement, you're still going through with your plan.

That other plan.

"No," Mark says flatly. "You're not backing out of this."

Here we go again, but this time, Mark is a little less pissed and more exhausted with your shenanigans.

"No, I'm just saying. Maybe I should do this in private instead? This is the equivalent of putting a girl on the spot with marriage proposals, which, for the record, I absolutely detest because fuck having choice and not cornering them into whatever they want, right?"

"While I do agree with you, he'll pee his pants and probably hump you if you do this than to be put off, trust me," Mark says. "And besides, everything is ready. All it needs is the execution."

Mark has a point.

Before you can wimp out again, you hear your name being called to an uproar of cheers. You're lucky Jackson's fanbase is mostly supportive of your relationship since you two came out a few years ago, though it is not without some minor hiccups and a few outrage from the unsupportive ones. What matters however is you lucked out, and you can never be more grateful.

"[Name] [Last Name], ladies and gentlemen!" You hear the host say as you see Jackson's blinding grin when you step out from the backstage.

Oh, you swoon. My smitten darling [Name].

Steady, girl.

"So, Miss [Last Name]—"

"It's Mrs. Wang, actually." You hear gasps from the audience, and Jackson's blinding grin turns lovelier and wider. "We actually got married in secret, and you forgot this at home." You hand him his ring as you grin mischievously.

"Okay, Peeta Mellark." Jackson rolls his eyes good-naturedly as he slips on his ring. "What a way to break it to them."

"My, my." The host fans himself with a wide smile. "Is this what you meant when you told me you'll be getting me a high rating?"

"I hope so," you say sheepishly. "If it doesn't, then no worries. I still have another trick in my hat. Don't you worry."

You look at Jackson and can't help but laugh inwardly at his clueless smile.

Oh, dear.

The interview goes without a hitch, with it mostly centered on your married life. You were originally nervous about how it would turn out, but it had been so far so good. Nobody threw shoes, and all that happened was a little 'booooo' when asked if you had had your honeymoon yet (which not yet, because you were both busy for a while after his tour).

"So, [Name]," the host asks again with a little waggle of his eyebrows. "What is this other trick of yours you mentioned earlier?"

Ah, shit. Here we go.

"Ah." Your smile turns a little serene, and you see Jackson sit up straighter in his seat. Nobody would notice it if they are not in tune with him, but he practically owns your whole soul, and you'd like to think that you do his, too, so you notice it.

"Have I told you my story about my soulmates?"

The host shakes his head. "Pray, do tell."

"Well, not everyone gets lucky with theirs. Everyone knows that." You smile sadly, the audience turning quiet.

"Yes, of course. A very sad fact that everyone is very well acquainted with." The host smiles sympathetically at you.

"I used to think it was the end of the world when mine didn't want anything to do with me. I kept thinking that something was wrong with me, that maybe I was really not worth their time. That maybe I was meant to suffer and die hurting."

You pause, then you look at Jackson. "But then I realize, I have you," you say softly.

You look back at the host.

"What more can I ask for when I have him?"

Your smile turns happier as the audience lets out a quiet 'aww'.

"I really like doing things unconventional and my way so..."

You bite your lower lip as you look once again at Jackson, who has his eyes trained on you and hanging on to every word you say.

"Would you give me the honor of being my forever soulmate, Jackson?"

It was like a time warp. The moment he said yes, cheers erupted, and everything blurred and warped in your ears. All your fears, all the hurt and pain? It was gone.

This is your happy ending, you deserve it, my dear [Name].

Go live it.

---

Meanwhile, somewhere a thousand miles away, a group of young men smile sadly at what could have been, and what was lost. Their chests perpetually ache with the loss of a piece of a soul they can never get back.

[moonjxsung]

hi my lovely 🩷

sorry for taking a moment to respond. if I'm honest, I got a bit emotional at first reading it and I just knew I wouldn't be able to say anything that made sense.

I know 100% what you mean about how difficult it can be when we fall into roles that just kinda end up defining us for so long that it becomes difficult to step away or act in any kind of way that doesnt fit the description because of all the uncertainty around it. you're not sure about the social response to it. you're not sure if it will change your relationships with others. and with that, no one wants to feel as though they of any less value or that they're less liked simply because they're not "fulfilling their role". But what you said about finding comfort in the loneliness and with yourself is so true and honestly a unique perspective. I think I came to terms with the fact that at the end of the day, the person who'll understand me, who can and will be there for me the most in life is myself fairly early on. But what you said about giving ourselves credit, and relishing in that alone time, I guess it hit a bit different.

Also, I hope I'm not overstepping but can I just say, I'm glad you took that decision to start medication for yourself. I know it's not an easy choice from admitting you need support, to seeking out that support, and then actually sticking to it. But if it's helping you then I'm so glad.

And once again, thank you for being so welcoming to everyone, irrespective of what theyre carrying 💕

Also, the lion comment 😭 I don't think there are words to even describe how sweet you are. Thank you 🩷

I hope you have an amazing weekend, upcoming week, and month. I hope you stay safe, healthy, and happy. And take care my lovely xx

-🦁

I love you my little angel 🥹 you’re doing absolutely amazing and I hope you give the grace to yourself that you deserve. It’s really not easy being able to look introspectively and draw those conclusions about yourself, but I’m proud you’re taking the steps to better yourself and see how you can make small improvements to just be happier overall. It’s such an “up and down” process and by NO means linear, and the starting point always feels like you’re at the bottom. But when you finally work your way up and find the peace to make wholesome connections and learn to live for yourself, it starts getting a whole lot easier. Just know that you’re on the way up right now, and even if you hit another low, you’re strong and SO capable of getting back up again. We all believe in you!!!

Thank you so much for the kind words about my medication too 🥹 it’s been helping a lot again, and I just feel more contained overall. It was such a bad week at work and I’m glad I started it when I did or I think I might’ve been a lot worse this whole weekend. It was just another example of realizing I needed to make a change and make the change on my own, but like the advice I passed along to you, that never means you’re alone, either. You always have a support system as long as you have me and this blog 💓🫶

I love you so much dearest, stay safe and healthy and I can’t wait to hear how you continue to get better, because I KNOW you will. You’re so valuable and I’m lucky to know you in any capacity !!❤️👼🦁