#like I know there would be some people who would hate me for this but certain “older” comics he's just...WAYYYYY too much of an asshole and

[enchanted-by-fae]

I Love You (and That’s All I Really Know) - Azriel x Reader

Pairing: Knight!Azriel x Princess!Reader

Summary: You were his princess, and he was just a knight. Azriel was ready to prove he's worthy of your love.

4.2k words

Warnings: Jousting (nothing graphic), fluff, slight forbidden romance, angst kinda, author knows nothing about swordplay or jousting, Az doesn’t have his shadows, Eris is a bad guy in this, low key this is just adorable.

A/N: This is my first one-shot so hopefully you guys like it! The title and the story itself were influenced by Love Story by Taylor Swift. I was also kind of inspired by the first episode of House of the Dragon and the movie A Knights Tale

Azriel knew it was wrong. You were his princess and he was just a knight. The grand tourney would be held on the morrow and Azriel was ready to win. Not just the tourney but your affections as well. He needed to prove that he was worthy of loving you. 

The knight had been in love with you for years. He was best friends with your brother, Rhysand. They grew close as brothers, training together to one day become the greatest heroes your world has seen. Alongside their other best friend, Cassian, the three were inseparable. 

Azriel still remembers the day he first met you. He was still just a squire and didn’t even know who you were at first when he saw you. All he had seen was a girl chasing a rabbit on the grounds and he couldn’t help but be curious as to what you were up to. He saw you run into the forest after it, leaving him to chase after you. He would’ve felt responsible if something had happened when he could’ve prevented it.

“Hello?��� he called out, not wanting to admit he actually was quite afraid to enter the forest alone. He had rumors as a child that sprites and faeries occupied this land and he wasn’t ready to learn the truth just yet. Azriel waited at the edge of the forest for your response but he never heard one. 

“Okay Az, man up,” he spoke aloud to himself. He took the first steps into the forest, looking for a sign as to where you could've run off to. “Sprites, if you live here then I beg you to please leave me alone,” he rambled. Azriel was able to find his bravery the further into the forest he ventured. He was going to be the world's greatest knight after all. After searching for a while Azriel began to question if you even ran in this direction. “Miss? Are you there?” he called again. 

He stopped for a moment to take in the surroundings, “where did you go?”, he pondered. Most people thought Azriel hated talking, in reality he just didn’t like people brushing him off. He found that the less you talk the more people pay attention when you actually have something to say. Of course, he never was like that with Rhys or Cass. His best friends were the only people he could truly be himself around. Another time he loved talking? When he was alone. He loved talking to himself. Who better to listen to him than- well, him.

“Okay,” he sighed out, “this better not be some game. I’m starting to get freaked out.”

“I didn’t mean to scare you,” a soft voice said behind him. Azriels eyes practically sprung out of his head as he completely stilled, scared to death at the mystery voice.

“Oh, sorry. Did I scare you again?” a girl. It was a girl speaking. Az let out a massive sigh of relief, finally being able to breath again, and turned to face the person he’s been searching for. You were the princess. He hadn’t recognized you as such when he saw you run off.

“You’re highness,” he immediately bowed. You just stood there, giggling. Azriel couldn’t help but be annoyed at that. “I came looking for you, not wanting to see you in trouble,” he explained. 

“Trouble? What kind of trouble?” you questioned.

Az thought that surely you couldn’t be serious, “well the forest is a dangerous place. It’s rumored that sprites and faeries live here.”

“Oh, well I haven’t seen any sprites. And I don’t think I’ve seen any faeries either,” you beamed. “I just came to help a rabbit friend,” Azriel thought at that moment you must be insane.

He looked at you quizzically, “a rabbit friend?”

You nodded your head, “yes- well, I mean that we’re friends now. He had a thorn stuck in his paw and the poor thing was in pain. We get along quite well now!” Azriels brows furrowed and you just giggled at him. “You think I’m crazy, don’t you?” you laughed. He had never heard such a lovely sound before. If he could, Azriel would only listen to your laugh forever.

“I’ve just never heard of someone having a rabbit friend before,” he reasoned. 

You just gave him a small shrug before starting the walk back to the palace. “I’m not crazy, just so you know,” you told him. Azriel just looked at you, in hopes of an explanation. “I just think that animals deserve the same respect and love as people. We did invade their homes after all.”

Azriel had never thought of it like that before but he supposed you were right. There’s something so beautiful about nature but then people came along and built palaces and villages. Taking over the land. He admired the way your brain works.

“Hey, you’re my brother's friend aren’t you?” you inquired. 

“Yeah, Rhysand and I are pretty close,” he answered. 

You looked at him with a smile, “he has good taste in friends then. Thank you for coming after me,” you gracefully inclined your head in gratitude.

Azriel offered a smile in return, “of course, princess.”

“Please, call me Y/N,” you asked him.

“Of course, Y/N,” he corrected. Just then he remembered he hadn’t told you his name, “you can call me Azriel.”

“Azriel,” you tried it out. “I like it!” you proclaimed. Now Azriel was offering you a chuckle of his own. He couldn’t remember the last time someone who wasn't Rhys or Cass got him to laugh. In fact, he couldn’t remember when someone who wasn’t his friends got him to talk this much. 

The two of you made your way back to the palace, chatting the entire way back. 

“Well, Azriel, I should get back to my lessons. I’m sure my tutor is having a fit,” you explained. “Thanks again for the escort,” you then started the journey to your study and Azriel just stood there watching you walk away.

“My pleasure, Y/N,” he whispered to himself. 

—

The two of you maintained a steady friendship throughout the years. You grew into a lovely young woman. Always compassionate towards your people, and you still cared a great deal for animals. You also were pretty brilliant. Azriel found himself amazed at some of the things you came up with. Your mind was one of the things he loved most about you. 

As you and he got older, he found himself falling more and more in love with you. He almost confessed it to you just a few months ago at your nameday celebration, but he chickened out at the last moment. He was just a knight. They typically didn’t marry princesses, especially bastards like him.

He did have a plan, however, to make his love for you known. The king was throwing an upcoming tourney to celebrate Rhysands marriage to Lady Feyre. The champion prize was having a wish granted by the king. He planned to ask you for a token of luck before he was to joust and when he won, that will be when he asks for your hand.

—

“Princess Y/N,” Azriel greeted as he found you roaming the gardens, guards lingering behind.

A graceful smile bloomed across your face, “Az, please just call me Y/N,”

Azriel shook his head, a smile of his own appearing, “I just like to tease you.”

“Well don't! It’s not nice to treat your princess that way,” you justified.

“You just said to not call you princess!” he exclaimed. He loved it when the two of you had these playful arguments. They made something in his stomach pleasantly twist.

You were trying to remain serious but couldn’t help the laugh that escaped, “you should still treat me as a princess.”

If things went his way tomorrow, he would treat you as a princess everyday for the rest of his life. He just slightly bowed his head towards you, “of course prin- Y/N.”

You gave him a playful head shake at his correction. “Are you ready for the tourney tomorrow,” you changed the subject. 

Azriel tries not to give away his plans for tomorrow regarding you. He wouldn’t want to spoil the surprise. “Of course I am,” he shrugs nonchalantly.

You turn towards Azriel, who's now walking beside you in the garden. He watches as you study his face slowly, looking for any signs of deception. Azriel has known you for a long time but you've known him for a long time too. You know all of his tells just as well as he knows yours. Yes, you were definitely onto him.

“That's great Az,” you say finally. He lets out a silent breath of relief.  “I’m sure you’ll win, the only other real competition is Cass,” you add.

Az paused, he completely forgot Cassian was jousting too. He should tell Cass of his plan to propose to you. His friend was enough of a romantic that Azriel was sure that he could get him to throw the competition. 

Cassian married Lady Nesta just a few months ago and they were disgustingly adorable. Lady Nesta was the eldest sister of Rhysands new wife, Feyre. He thought it was nice how his brothers found sisters to wed. He was even happier to have you all to himself now that Cass was out of the way. There were a few years where all Cassian could do was flirt with you. Azriel had never been more jealous in his life. He eventually snapped and let his brother in on his affections for you. His friend backed off after that.

“Oh, I’m not worried about “The Lord of Bloodshed”, or whatever he wants to call himself,” Azriel teased. Cass had started to call himself that after the first battle the three of them fought together. Az had never seen anything like it, he was almost demon-like out there. It was strange as Cassian was much different when he was with his friends.

You just giggled at Azriels teasing, “You’re not worried about perhaps the greatest knight this kingdom has ever seen, Sir Azriel?” Az couldn’t help the fluttering of his heart as you used his proper title. 

“Trust me, sweetheart, if anyone here is the greatest then it's me,” he confidently replied. Azriel didn’t miss the flush of your cheeks at the term of endearment used. 

“Then I wish you luck,” you curtseyed, “I shall see you on the morrow then?” 

Az gave you a bow and took your hand in his, placing a delicate kiss to your knuckles, “you shall.” Your face flushed to deep crimson before pulling your hand back and stalking off back towards the palace

—

Azriel found Cassian in the training yard, and he wasn’t alone. He found his two best friends in an intense sword fight. Both of them were very good. Az found peace in knowing Rhysand wouldn’t be competing tomorrow, as the tourney was to celebrate his marriage. That just left him to deal with Cassian, who at that moment knocked his opponent on his ass, leaving Rhysand as the loser. 

“Well, well, well, look who decided to show his face at training,” Cassian called out to Azriel, helping pull Rhys back to his feet.

“Nice fight,” Azriel turned towards Rhysand, “sorry you had your ass handed to you.”

Cassian let out a chuckle, “he sure as hell did.” Rhysand was not amused, scowling at them both. “Oh wipe that face off, Rhys. You’re probably just tired,” Cass smirked, “Feyre wearing you out?”

Rhysand just looked at Cassian with a devilish grin, “something like that.” 

Azriel just stood there, laughing at his friends. “Cassian, could I speak with you about something?” he asked. Cassian just looked at him with a quizzical brow.

“Why do you just need to speak to Cass?” Rhysand questioned, “I am your prince, after all.” Azriel was starting to ponder if pulling rank was a family trait. 

Azriel never actually told Rhysand about his love for you. He didn’t want to make him uncomfortable but he supposed it would be nice to have both his best friends backing him up tomorrow. 

Azriel took a deep inhale before speaking, “I’m going to wish for Y/N’s hand in marriage when I win tomorrow.”

Rhysand and Cassian dropped their swords simultaneously, staring at Azriel.

“You- wait my sister?”

“Finally!” The two exclaimed at once. Cassian wrapped his arms around Azriel, “you have my congratulations, brother,” he beamed.

“You knew about this?” Rhysand questioned Cass. 

Cassian let out a sigh as he backed away from embracing Azriel. “yes, Rhys. I knew,” his response laced with guilt.

Rhysands confusion grew deeper and deeper. The only thing holding Azriel together was that he didn’t seem angry. “How- how long have you been in love with my sister?” Rhys asked.

Azriel shit his eyes, breathed, and reopened them, “since the day I met her.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Rhysand seemed more hurt than the fact his best friend was in love with his sister. 

Azriel felt guilt coursing through him, “I didn’t know how you’d react. I thought you’d be angry,” he confessed.

Rhysand just blew out a sigh, “Why would I be angry?” It was now Azriels turn for confusion. “I honestly couldn’t think of a man more deserving than you to marry her,” Rhys informed.

“You truly mean that?” Az couldn’t contain the small grin he had.

Rhysand nodded, “of course,” he walked over and clapped Azriel on the shoulder, “she’d be lucky to have you. And you’d be lucky to have her.”

“Does this mean I have your blessing then?” Azriel queried.

Rhysand gave him a wide grin, “of course, although it’s not mine you need. How do you plan to convince the king?”

“I have a plan,” Azriel told his brothers before bringing his attention back to Cassian, “I need a favor.”

“Anything,” Cassian responded. Azriel informed his brothers of just how he’ll gain your fathers approval.

—

Azriel was set to fight his first match against a knight he had never heard of until before today, he was good. Not as good as Azriel, however. Azriel beat opponent after opponent, the crowd cheering his name. He loved the rush of the sport but if he was being honest with himself, he only cared if you were cheering his name. Which you were.

Azriel picked out your voice instantly, as it was the loudest. He looked at the royal box where you were seated on the left of your father, Nesta on your other side. When you weren’t cheering for Az, you were conversing with the lady. Azriel thought it was sweet how well you got along with her and Feyre. The latter of whom was seated next to Rhysand, on the opposite side of your father.

Soon Azriel found himself going against Cassian. During the conversation they had the day prior, his friend had agreed to lose. He felt bad asking it of Cass, but Azriel needed to win. 

Azriel saddled himself on his horse once more and did a quick canter around the arena. He stopped just below the royal box.

“Princess Y/N” he called, using your formal title considering how public you currently were. His heart skipped a beat as you appeared before him.

“Yes, Sir Azriel?” you questioned, a mischievous smile gracing your face.

“Might I have a token? For luck,” he raised his lance high enough for you to bestow your favor. You nodded your head before you darted off to your seat to grab your gift.

“For you, good sir,” you came back with an intricately weaved wreath of flowers, placing it down on his lance. You leaned over the balcony just enough for Az to hear, “Win my heart, Sir Azriel.” You smiled at his dazed expression before returning to your spot besides the king. 

Azriel just sat there on his horse, amazed at what you had just said. He finally snapped back into reality and rode back to his starting position. He was ready to win your heart. 

—

Azriel was at his end of the fence, waiting for the signal to face off against Cassian. You were so close. Finally, Cassian emerged from his end of the barrier. Azriel looked towards his friend and noticed that he was riding a different horse. Then he noticed that the suit of armor was not the one Cass wore. And the killing blow was when the knight took off his helmet and revealed the face of Sir Eris.

Azriel called for a time out before the joust could begin, needing to check what happened with Cassian. He took off on his horse towards the opposite end in search of answers.

He arrived towards his new opponent, “Sir Eris, what has happened to Cassian?”

Eris let out a scoff, “you mean that idiot?”

Azriel glared at him, “yes, him.”

“Oh, well you see,” Eris began, “he lost.”

That wasn’t right. Cassian doesn’t lose. Especially to fools like Eris. Azriel never liked him. He was always full of himself. Thinking he was better all because he was to be the king of his own kingdom someday. Rhysand was in line for his own throne, and his friend still maintained humility.

“I doubt that is the truth of the matter,” Azriel defended. He hadn’t seen every tournament today, he was busy competing on his own as there were multiple tournaments being held. It was all meant to lead up to this, the grand finale. Azriel hoped that Eris was just making a show of himself, rather than telling the truth.

“Oh but it is,” Eris smirked, “I knocked him down myself. See for yourself.” Azriel followed to where Eris’ line of sight went, the royal box. 

There he sat, next to his wife. Cassian was hanging his head in his hands, upset by the defeat and that he wouldn’t be able to help his brother any longer. Nesta rubbed comforting circles on his back and you moved to sit at his feet in hopes of cheering him. 

“I wish you luck, Sir Azriel,” Eris mockingly bowed his head before placing his helmet back on.

Azriel galloped back to his end of the arena. He took a few deep breaths, thinking everything through. He knew he could take down Eris, but it would’ve been helpful if he had the guaranteed win he had with Cassian. If he lost, he’d never be able to marry you. He had to clear all the negativity from his mind. He would win. He could do this. Azriel would do as you told him and win your heart. 

The signal went off for the grand finale to begin. Eris galloped down first, charging with might. Azriel followed almost instantly, securing his helmet. Focus. He needed to focus. Azriel, with direct precision, aimed for Eris’s shoulder. It would earn him a few points if the blow landed. 

It didn’t. The blow just missed Eris and instead one landed on Azrael's shoulder. One point for Eris.

Their squires handed each of them a new lance, set to begin round two. They began their gallops down again. Eris landed another blow on Az on his shoulder. Eris now had two points on Azriel.

The third round would be the last if Eris landed another blow. The first to three points wins so that meant Azriel had to get at least one point, in hopes of continuing longer with a chance of a comeback. He had another option as well. If he knocked Eris from his horse then he would automatically be declared as the winner. 

Az blew out a breath, “okay, I can do this. Just knock Eris on his ass,” Azriel rambled to himself. He never could break the habit. “Easy enough,” he confidently whispered.

Azriels squire handed him his final lance, desperate to get this over with and to make you his at last. The two nights began their descents towards each other, lances ready to deliver their final blows. 

This time Azriel aimed further in, closer to Eris’ chest. He galloped and galloped. He had something to fight for. Someone to fight for. You. All he could think of was just how lovely you are and how he so desperately wanted to you to be in his arms.

Azriel landed his blow. Eris missed. He missed and was immediately knocked off his horse. He had done it. Azriel won. He removed his helmet and let out a laugh. Not because it was funny, but because he gets his wish and Eris gets nothing.

Azriel trotted over towards the royal box, ready to face your father. He got off his horse smoothly and there you were, looking at him in a way he had always hoped you would.

“Sir Azriel,” the king started, rising from his seat, “it seems as though congratulations are in order.”

Azriel kneeled before his king, “thank you, your majesty. The honor was mine.”

“You do understand what you receive for your victory, yes?” the king asked. 

“Yes, one wish granted,” Azriel nodded breathlessly. He could hardly contain his nervous excitement. 

The king took a moment, “that is correct.” The king began walking towards Azriel until there wasn’t much space left between them. “Stand,” he ordered. Azriel did as he said, rising to meet his king's eyes. “What is it you would wish for?” he asked.

“I would like to ask for the hand of Princess Y/N,” he nervously asked. Azriel took a fleeting glance towards you, making eye contact. He wanted to spend forever looking into your eyes. Azriel lost his nerves completely, knowing you were looking at him with such admiration. 

“I wish to make her my bride. I wish to make her happy for the rest of her life. I wish to love her, and to hold her. I wish for Y/N, my king” Azriel requested in his most authoritative voice. 

The king's face was one of indifference, “are you not a bastard?”

Azriel won the tourney. His birth status should not matter anymore. He was tired of the obstacles in his way. He felt his temper bubble to the surface. That was when Az felt a gentle hand place itself on his forearm. He looked to his side, and there you were.

“Father, the rules stated the winner would have any wish granted to them,” you came to his defense. 

“Yes but, Y/N, he’s a bastard,” the king justified.

“I love him, as he loves me,” you proclaimed. Azriel had no idea that you truly returned his feelings. Of course he suspected, that was why he had done all of this after all. Hearing it from you made his chest thunder with excitement. You loved him. 

The king looked between the two of you, “you truly love him?” he asked his daughter.

“Yes father, I do. Please grant him this wish,” you began to plead. 

Your father looked towards Azriel now, “you truly love her?” he asked Azriel, repeating the same question he had for you.

“I do,” Azriel said without a second thought. “I love her and wish to make her my wife,” he continued, looking down towards you. 

You felt his gaze upon you and turned to make eye contact with him, giving him a smile he had never seen you wear before but he somehow loved this one the most. “Please, father” you begged once more.

The king examined Azriel once more, then brought his gaze to you. “Very well, the two of you shall be married,” he declared loud enough for most of the arena to hear. Soon enough applause and cheers filled the open space, the crowd rejoicing in the news. 

With that the tourney came to a close, the king and his royal guard taking their leave. Azriel spared a quick glance to his friends as they left with Feyre and Nesta, presumably to give him a moment alone with his fiancée. He loved that he could call you that now. And soon, you'd be his wife.

When everyone in the royal box left and the two of you were as close to being alone as possible, he went to gently take your face into his hands. “Why didn’t you tell me you love me?” he asked you.

“Well, why didn’t you tell me you love me?” you retorted. 

Azriel let out a chuckle, “you have me there, princess.”

“I’m sorry I never told you. Truthfully,” you removed his hands from your face, pulling them close to your chest, “I’ve loved you since the day we met.”

Azriels eyes bulged, “you- you have?” You just gave him a shy nod in response. “In the name of honesty,” he breathed out a laugh. He couldn’t believe you loved him just as long as he did you. “I’ve loved you since that very day as well,” he confessed.

You giggled, “we’ve both been rather foolish, haven’t we?”

“Yes, my love, I’m afraid we have,” he giggled with you. Azriel wasn’t planning on wasting one more second. He removed one hand from yours, taking it to place back on your cheek. His thumb softly stroked the skin there. He leaned down, hovering just above your lips. “I love you, Y/N,” he breathed out.

“I love you, Az,” you whispered back just before he closed the distance. Finally, after years of waiting, he sealed your lips with a kiss. He had won your heart just as you had won his.

—

A/N: I've had this idea in my head for a little while now so I'm very happy I finally got around to writing it! You are all so amazing, I really appreciate all of your support 🥰❤️

[mokulule]

A Man has Needs part 3

First

Fandom: DP x DC Ship: Dead on Main (Jason/Danny) Summary: In which Jason keeps up ending up in Danny's bed and not even for any fun reasons.

Part 3

Daniel James Fenton, 20 years old, born and raised in Amity Park, Illinois. Graduated high school with barely passing grades. Currently enrolled in Gotham U’s aerospace engineering program, with (ironically) a Wayne Foundation scholarship of a type that was reliant on entrance exam test results rather than high school grades. Either his high school teachers hated him or he spent the gap year studying his ass off to ace the exams.

At least it explained what he was doing in Gotham of all places, Jason thought as he leaned on the kitchen island chin in his hand, laptop open in front of him. The WF scholarships for Gotham U were very good, yet still most people had the sense not to move to Gotham - and Crime Alley at that.

Him being from the Midwest might even explain some of the strange hospitality, though Jason felt he probably took it a level above most people.

Of family there was an older sister - like he’d mentioned. Jasmine Fenton was currently doing a PhD in the field of Psychology.

The parents, Jack and Madeline Fenton had doctorates of their own, though what little he could find published from them was from very disreputable paranormal sort of publications. They seemed to have very little basis for their theories - one of which was that ghosts were inherently evil - which was just absolute hogwash. They apparently lived off the payout of some early inventions they’d made and sold to the government.

Beyond that there was only an aunt.

Friends were much harder to judge. Danny’s social media presence was practically non-existent. He’d only just opened an account on Mugshot, Gotham’s favored social, this Monday, apparently due to encouragement from new Gotham U friends.

Jason absently drummed his fingers on the counter, as he stared unseeingly towards his laptop. Maybe Tim or Babs could find more, but Jason found himself reluctant to involve them, they would want to know why he was looking into the guy, they would want a reason to dig deeper than the basic background check Jason had already done.

Jason could not- would not, tell them about this… attraction? Jason rubbed his face tiredly. Attraction was a terrible word, that implied other things, but it was the best he had.

The oven timer had the kindness to beep then, signifying that batch of cookies was done, and distracting him for a few minutes as he transferred them to the cooling rack and got another plate going.

It was a limited reprieve however and all too soon he was back in front of his laptop. He had no other avenues, there really was only one thing to do.

Oo o oO

“We need to talk.” He flung the words out the moment a surprised Danny opened the door. The surprise however quickly gave way to a grimace as he registered the words.

“Do we have to?” Danny asked honest pleading in his voice.

Jason felt really tempted to say no, but forced himself to say “yes.”

“Okay,” Danny sighed, leaving the door open for Jason to step inside.

Jason closed the door after himself and felt his shoulders relax from their tense position and his breath come out in a relieved sigh. Safe.

He looked to Danny who wrung his hands.

Jason had meant to say something, ask something, he’d had a plan. He wanted answers. Answers… Jason opened his mouth, sound getting stuck in his throat. Just ask him what was going on? But what did it really matter?

“Ah! Please don’t say anything,” Danny interrupted Jason’s internal struggle. “I have been trying so hard not to make this awkward.”

Jason grimaced when he saw how uncomfortable Danny looked. Jason was making him uncomfortable.

“Okay look,” Danny took a deep breath and held up his hands, and looked at Jason with his big blue eyes, “will you please, just let me start, and if you really feel like you need to say something you can do so afterwards, yeah? Though it’s really not necessary.”

“Okay,” Jason managed mouth dry.

“I don’t know how to make this not awkward, but here goes, it’s okay.”

“Okay?” Jason reiterated brows raising in confusion.

“Yes, it’s okay, truly. Fuck, how would Jazz say it,” Danny looked thoughtful for a moment before meeting Jason’s eyes again. “You have needs, and that is okay.”

Jason frowned bewildered and alarmed. Needs?

Seeing Jason’s frown Danny unfortunately rambled, “I know it’s not exactly socially normal no matter which way you look at it, but it’s fine. I have a big bed, truly it’s fine. It’s nothing to be embarrassed about, or apologize-“

Overwhelmed, Jason held up his bag of cookies and Danny thankfully stopped talking.

“Coffee?” Danny croaked after a moment’s silence.

“Please,” Jason agreed.

Five minutes later they sat at Danny’s small table a plate of cookies between them, looking down at their steaming coffee, awkwardly avoiding looking at each other.

Jason didn’t know what to think. Had he gotten any information out of this? Needs… Jason had needs, and those let him to Danny’s bed? He cringed away from the thought.

Across from him, Danny poked the handle of his cup. “Can we just pretend this conversation didn’t happen?”

Maybe Danny had the right of it. For both their sanities, maybe that was best. Aside from his confusion, Jason had felt better after both times he’d slept at Danny’s. Would it be so bad to, just for once in his life, not question things? Jason was unsure how much of this was his brain being muddled in Danny’s presence, but he agreed with a nod, and took a sip of coffee.

Oo o oO

Danny wanted to scream. He had made such a mess of things! All his good intentions and he’d gone and made things awkward anyways. It was a relief his guest was willing to just go with it after all.

And, Danny lamented, his guest had even spoken earlier today, like in a full sentence and now they were back at single words or nonverbal. Poor guy. It had to be so uncomfortable to wake up in a stranger’s bed. If only Danny had an easy way to give him straight ectoplasm, but then that might actually overwork his starved core and make everything worse. The slow absorption of Danny’s ambient energy, probably was best for him.

Half still lost in thought he took a cookie and promptly groaned in pleaures, it was perfect and there was no way he could keep his train of thought. It was crisp on outside and chewy in the middle, and the chocolate bits were so rich.

“You made these?” Danny exclaimed between heavenly bites and was rewarded with a quick shy smile and a glance of blue-green eyes. Fuck, why did Danny’s guest have to be both hot and cute? Life was so unfair.

But it seemed the ice had finally broken, and they were back to something comfortable.

Oo o oO

Later in his own apartment, Jason tried once again to make sense of things.

Facts. Jason woke up in Danny’s bed twice, it was likely to happen again.

Apparently Jason had needs. He shuddered at the thought, because what did that mean? But in a twisted way it also made sense, because he had woken up twice in that man’s bed through no conscious decision of his own. There was something about Danny that drew Jason to him and while it was kinda freaking him out, it was also kinda not. Which in itself was freaking him out if he allowed himself to think about it.

But another fact was that Jason felt better, lighter somehow, than… actually he didn’t really remember when he’d last felt so good. Maybe he really had just needed some proper sleep?

And Danny himself?

Jason had no idea what his deal was. It was very odd how accepting he was of the situation - he’d said it himself, this wasn’t socially normal no matter how you looked at it.

He was clearly not normal no matter how you looked at it. But neither was Jason really.

-

And this is the end of part 3.

They almost talked? They gotta get props for trying right?

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[fixyourwritinghabits]

Hello. I realize this might be overly personal for this blog but I was wondering if you had any advice for my situation. I'm trying to get back into creative hobbies like drawing and writing and while I made some progress with drawing I've really struggled with writing. It's been about ten years. I struggled with my mental health a lot when I was younger and essentially let my depression/anxiety and ADHD destroy all my creative ability. Logically I know the answer is to just write and write badly, but I'm preemptively disappointed and upset that what I write will be. Well. Shit. Or that I'll never improve. Or that I have no idea what to write. And when I do have an idea what to write it's all just gone from my head the second I sit down to write. So. Er. I guess I'm wondering if you have any advice or resources for people like me? Thank you :)

When you're juggling various different Back-Stabbing Brain issues, various pieces of writing advice - getting up at 5pm, forcing yourself to do it, etc - just doesn't work. For me, it's been a struggle to figure out even in optimal situations, so you're not alone. For me, the following is what worked.

Figure out your peak writing time.

Unfortunately, in our capitalist hellscape, you may not be able to use that time to your advantage. My peak time is from 2pm-5pm, right in the middle of work and fades right when I get home. Not ideal. But I can use that knowledge to take advantage of that time on my free days, and I can strategically time my breaks to do some writing. Or just write while pretending to work. Not that I would ever confess to doing that.

Taking the time to figure out when your brain is most willing to work with you is also very helpful. My brain will not work for writing after 8pm. It can, however, still do the dishes. Forcing myself to put off chores so that I can write is super hard thanks to my ADHD (which hates chores until I need to do something else), but I can combat that by making goal lists, scheduling my writing time (with set alarms on my phone!) helps me manage that.

Change location.

I can't get a lot of work done at home. I've tried. I've moved my desk around, I've locked down my internet browsers when writing, I have ignored the way my cat stares holes into my back to try to write. My brain, though, knows that the bed is right over there, we've got that pile of books to read, and oh hey, Tasting History has a new video. Also my cat wants to steal my computer chair and then get constant pets while in said chair because she is a princess baby. It's a losing battle.

What does work for me? Dragging my work to the library. Finding a cafe with enough space and quiet music to get some stuff done. Breaking out a foldable desk on the porch so that there is a closeable barrier between me and my distractions (the cats hate this option).

Changing location is something that works for me. If you have limited options, build barriers between yourself and distractions. Pile stuff on the bed so that it's not easy to give in and lie down for "just a minute." Close doors. Bribe your cats (or your kids). Use a standing desk - shifting your position can help lock down some of the ansty need to be doing something (my chair-stealing cat is more than happy to help with this).

I know of one writer who only gets work done by locking herself in her bathroom, because it's just enough change of scene to get her thoughts to settle. I know another writer who can only get editing done sitting in his parked car. However wacky, trying different scenarios to get something to work can really help.

Find the right tools.

The only way I can draft is by hand. It sucks and I have carpal tunnel, but my brain cannot type words into a blank screen. I need a pile of messy papers that no one else can read to work from.

I'm also very particular about what I write with. I use Uni Power Tank pens from Japan (because they're the only damn pen I've found that doesn't smear my left-handed writing), and I cycle through different types of paper I exclusively work with. Right now it's Five Star Reinforced Filler Paper with the triangle holes, not the round ones.

I don't know why this works, it just does. I've changed up what I've used over time, but as long as I'm consistent and not trying to write a chapter using differently-sized paper (insert scream here), I can get it done. Test out different tools and find what fits for you.

Organization isn't helping? Embrace chaos.

Jeff VanderMeer wrote an entire series on post-it notes, napkins, and on the backs of old bills. I wouldn't recommend that, but if a little chaos gets the job done, then do it. Spread a story across several half-filled notebooks. Map dialogue using only flashcards. Instead of waiting to sit down to get work done, scribble away while on a bus or on the move (safely, of course). Use a speech-to-text app to talk out your writing. Sometimes the more tactile you can make writing, the more you can break up those barriers keeping you from writing.

Try out different things! You'll eventually find what works for you

[judesmoonbeauty]

Lover's Contract: Jude Jazza - Premium END

This is a fan translation only. Please expect grammatical errors and translation inaccuracies. This is a full translation. Creative liberties are taken for characterization and smoother translation process. Cybird owns everything. Re-blogs are appreciated, but please do not post my translation elsewhere. Thank you for your support! ☾.

The steamboat’s whistle vibrates into the late night air.

Carrying the target couple, the boat leaves the harbor.

Eventually, the outline of the ship, illuminated by the lights, disappears into the foggy darkness.

Kate: The boat’s gone.

Jude: Let’s head back.

As soon as we observed the elopement, Jude flipped his coat and turned his back to the sea.

Kate: …..Was this a punishment?

I muttered as I gazed out at the sea, only for amethyst eyes to look back at me.

Jude: Dunno.

Jude: Kinda people d’ya think they are?

After observing them I noticed —  How they held their glasses with sophistication, and the way they spoke and laughed with elegance.

(Even observing their confident demeanor, poise and mannerisms…..)

Kate: Those two….are likely nobles of very high social standing.

Kate: They didn't seem servile at all, and looked like people who grew up loved by their families.

Kate: I hate to say this, but there was such a sublime air about them that it’s hard to believe that they’d commit infidelity…..

Jude: Seems like yer eyes ain’t so rotten that they’re blind.

Jude: Right then, let’s suppose yer assumption’s spot-on.

Jude: Whatsit mean fer ‘em to abandon their homeland?

(If those two are who I imagine them to be —)

Abandoning their beloved families and hometowns would be an extremely heavy, and painful punishment for the two of them.

(In return for hurting their families and choosing love, they must abandon their hometowns.)

That’s the crime and punishment they committed.

Kate:….Those two only have each other now.

When I think about how they tossed away everything, and boarded the boat with only the clothes on their backs, my heart swells.

Jude: Plus, it’s easier bumpin’ people off from such respectable families abroad.

Jude: Don’t matter how they die, s’gonna be ruled an accident.

Kate: WHAT, isn’t giving up their homes the punishment?! Don’t say something so dreadful….

Jude: Huh? Weren’t ya wonderin’ if it was a punishment?

Jude: So, I just came up with the plausible endin’.

Jude: But even after I toldja, ya still complained. Yer bein’ too selfish, Princess.

Jude grumbles and starts walking.

Kate: Ah, please don’t leave me behind.

He glanced at me as I quickly stand next to him.

Jude: Ya can stay the night ‘n ponder alone.

T/l note at the bottom due to length.

Kate: I’ll go back with you.

Jude: With me, ya wanna be with me that bad?

Kate: Um, well…I like being with you.

I feel flustered hearing something like that out of the blue.

Jude: Speakin’ of, ya said “We’re together because we can’t completely fill the emptiness”.

(That’s what I said when I was consoling the woman target…!)

Kate: H-How do you know that, Jude?!

Jude: Yer so loud. Obviously, I was listenin’.

Kate: You were listening?! S-Since when?

Jude: That guy still had feelin’s fer her, so I went t’go get ‘er, he bawled ‘n begged.

Jude: Then ya were havin’ some drawn out chit chat on the balcony.

Jude: So, whose line’s that? I read all the scripts when I was investigatin’ the theater troupe fer the mission the other day.

Jude: That line, “Love is something you can’t get enough of, it’s also something you can’t give enough of.”

Jude: Don’t remember seein’ it.

(Yeahhh….that look, this means he knows everything.)

Kate: Just like you said Jude, those lines being from a play is a lie.

(If he knows, there’s no point in hiding it anymore.)

Love is something you can’t get enough of, it’s also something you can’t give enough of.

Those words -

Kate: I was just ad-libbing…..or rather, my feelings were spilling out for you, Jude.

Jude and I gaze into each other’s eyes, we touch each other, and repeatedly share our body’s heat.

Each time we do, I feel my heart filling with love.

But at the same time, my feelings for Jude grow more intense with each passing day —

(I could no longer say that loving you or receiving your love was "enough".)

Kate: I became greedy, after experiencing your love.

Kate: I want to love you even more. Jude, I lov—

The unfinished words melted between overlapping lips.

Jude: What’s this switchin’ back to bein’ a girlfriend without permission. Yer my lover ‘til the mission’s done.

Kate: But the targets are sailing on the ship, so the mission’s basically over…..

Jude: Ya don’t get it.

Jude’s eyes flicker alluringly as he gets closer.

Jude: Ain’t no way I can letcha go back lookin’ like that.

Kate: Looking like what….?

Jude: Like a woman in heat. Yer lil heads filled with unspeakable thin’s, ‘n what’s with all the questions?

Jude: If yer tryin’ to cover up yer perverseness, yer wastin’ yer time.

Jude: I know better than anyone, just how much ya want it.

The instant the whisper falls into the soft spot of my heart, it gets excited and pounds loudly…..

Kate: …..Mmn, haa.

His hand reaches the back of my head and firmly pulls me in.

— Only Jude and I are aware of the echoing sounds that lost in crashing waves.

[Event Master List] [Epilogue]

Translation Note: Jude uses "tasogare," meaning 'Twilight'. In archaic Japanese, it literally means "Who's there," and it was used back then because it was hard to tell who was who in the dusk. So, they'd say "tasogare" or "who's there". I thought the etiology was pretty cool. However, it's also a colloquial term used for those who spend the twilight/nighttime to think in depth. So, I decided to translate it this way.

It's so cute how Kate is learning to read people like Jude does, I love that so much!

Tag List: @sh0jun @theimaginativelyreticent @sapphire-323 @velisle @nateko @greatwitchsongsinger @injudescoat @aeyumicore @complexivelovely @yuoi-the-magnificent @husbandosandladders @cosmowgyral @lunaaka @rosalyne08 @8the-perfect-lie8 @voydsoul @goustmilk @kraiyne @midnightsrunaway @nawlink

If you wish to be added (and 18+ YO), or removed from my translations tag list, please let me know!

[iamumbra195]

The Outsiders incorrect quotes because I'm bored

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Dally: Legend says that when you can’t sleep, it means you’re awake in someone else’s dreams.

Dally, a raging insomniac: When I find out who you are, I’m going to kick your ass.

...

Darry: Yesterday, Ponyboy told me that when he was a kid and had nightmares of being chased by monsters, he would end the dream by finding me because I would protect him by fighting off the monsters or carrying him away. The funny thing is that when I was a kid, I remember constantly having nightmares where I had to save him from monsters.

Darry: ... I'm torn between thinking it's sweet and being annoyed that he somehow mastered the ability to psychically transfer his nightmares to me as a child

...

Ponyboy: Name a more iconic duo than my crippling fear of abandonment and my anxiety. I’ll wait.

Johnny: You and me?

Ponyboy: *tearing up* Ok.

...

Two-Bit: You know what I’ve realized?

Steve: That some thoughts are better left unsaid?

Two-Bit: Nice try, anyways-

...

Darry: You're smiling, what happened?

Ponyboy: What? Can't I smile just because I feel like it?

Soda: Steve tripped and fell down the stairs today.

...

Steve: You played me!

Soda, cheating at poker: Like the cheap kazoo you are!

...

Ponyboy: Can I have some water?

Byron: *starts chugging his water bottle*

Byron: *chokes from drinking too fast*

Byron: *spills water all over himself*

Byron, coughing: I don't have any water.

...

Random person at the church: How many children do you have?

Mrs. Curtis: Biologically or emotionally? Because there's a big difference.

...

Curly: *gets a text* Oh! It’s Tim.

Ponyboy: Did he get the stuff?

Curly: Yeah, he says he got us the clown costume, the power drill, and 12 gallons of blood.

Ponyboy: Whoa! Where’d he find 12 gallons of fake blood?

Curly: You wanted fake blood?

Ponyboy: ...

Curly: I’ll go call Tim

...

Soda: You can take away my rights, but can you take away my lefts?

...

Johnny: Dally and I were crossing the street, and this soc drove by and honked at us

Darry, sighing: What did he do?

Johnny: he chased him to the next red light, then reached into his window and...

Dally, grinning: Who wants a steering wheel?

...

Bob: I came out here to attack people and I'm honestly having such a good time right now.

Bob: *gets stabbed a minute later* Fuck.

...

Curly: FIGHT ME, YOU NERD ASS PUNK!

Angela: At least try to sound slightly more sophisticated when you threaten someone.

Curly: Oh, I'm sorry. I should ask; dost thou want to engage in a duel, my good bitch?

Angela: Somehow that's even worse.

...

Soda: What’s the dumbest thing you believed as a kid?

Darry: That naptime was a punishment.

...

Ponyboy: The first time Two-Bit opened a box of Cheerios and looked inside he yelled, "OH WOW! DONUT SEEDS!"

...

Johnny: So I have made the decision to trust you.

Dally: A horrible decision, really.

...

Two-Bit: Who thinks I can fit 15 marshmallows in my mouth?

Darry: You’re a hazard to society

Steve: And a coward. DO TWENTY.

...

*At the police station*

Darry: Hi, I’m here for Dallas.

Police officer: Who’s Dallas?

Darry: Ah, you must be new.

...

Ponyboy: So the other day Darry sent Soda out to get us some gas.

Ponyboy: And instead of getting gas, he got us novelty cookie cutters.

Ponyboy: Now everything we eat is shaped like a dinosaur.

Ponyboy: …

Ponyboy: I love it so much.

...

Angela: I hate when people ask me what sign I am. Bitch, I'm a sign from god. Start running.

...

Buck: What are you writing?

Dally: The fuzz wanna know what kind of weapons we have in the house. I'm letting them know it's private information.

Buck, looking over Dally's shoulder: This just says 'fuck around and find out' in calligraphy.

...

Johnny, having a panic attack: I don't dab. I stab.

...

Steve: Your existence is confusing.

Ponyboy: How?

Steve: Your presence is annoying, but the thought of anything bad happening to you upsets me.

...

Soda: Heads up, if you try to make a candle with food colouring, it will just sink to the bottom of the glass, and when the flame eventually reaches the bottom all the food colouring will catch fire and become one giant tall flame that you cannot possibly blow out and the glass will start to crack and then you'll throw your tea on it in a panic and then the extremely hot food colouring will boil and sizzle horribly and then the glass will shatter.

Darry, sighing: What did you do?

Soda, wailing: A MISTAKE

...

Two-Bit: So what’s for breakfast?

Ponyboy, staring at the eggs all over the walls: Regret.

...

Johnny: "You're an old soul" is just old people speak for "I've noticed you've been depressed since you were 9."

...

Ponyboy: Quick, what's your blood type?

Dally: How would I know?

Ponyboy: How would you not!?

Dally: Who am I, Karl Landsteiner, discoverer of blood groups?

Ponyboy, distressed: You don't know your own blood type, but you know who discovered them?!

...

Curly: *Accidentally punched Ponyboy in the face*

Curly: *Trying to decide between saying 'I’m fucking sorry' and 'Are you okay'*

Curly: ARE YOU FUCKING SORRY?!

Ponyboy, confused: What’s wrong with you?!

Angela: *wheezing in the background*

...

Darry: Can you please be serious for five minutes?

Two-Bit: My record is four, but I think I can do it.

...

Sylvia: Why are you like this??

Dally: I used too much "No More Tears" shampoo as a kid and I haven't felt a single emotion since.

...

Curly: I was arrested for being too tuff.

Tim: The charges were dropped due to a lack of supporting evidence.

...

Ponyboy: Do you think different paints have different tastes?

Soda: They do.

Darry: ... Why did you say that with such certainty?

...

Soda, euphoric from his first date with Sandy: Date someone who will drag you outside at 3am to look at the stars.

Steve: If anyone, and I mean anyone, wakes me up at 3am to go look at the damn sky they will be removed indefinitely from my life.

...

Tim: I have the sharpest memory here - name one time I forgot something!

Curly: You left me in a Walmart parking lot at 2am a day ago.

Tim: I did that on purpose, try again.

...

Dally: *choking on something*

Steve: Jeez, Dal, don't die on us.

Dally: Don't tell me what to do, I'll die whenever the hell I want

...

Angela: You can trust me! Let's not forget who pulled you out of the river when you were six.

Curly, dryly: Let's not forget who pushed me in

...

Dally: I am free of all prejudice. I hate everyone equally.

...

Darry: Don’t say a word.

Ponyboy: Fergalicious.

Darry: Pony, I said no words.

Ponyboy: Oh, I see how it is. Two weeks ago, when we were playing Scrabble, it wasn't a word, now suddenly it is a word because it’s convenient for you.

...

Soda: Steve, you need to react when customers cry!

Steve: I did. I rolled my eyes.

...

Ponyboy: 'Struggling with depression' would seem to imply that I am bad at being depressed when I am, in fact, very proficient at being depressed.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

That's it for now lol

[hyohaehyuk]

I was a bit skeptical at first but it seems this person works in the entertainment industry so it makes sense Jacob had said confidencial things to her

[elliewrites77]

Uncle!Sukuna Part 6

1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6

masterlist

Uncle!Sukuna who puts his plan for a second date on temporary hold. The day after the incident with Yuji, you sat him and Sukuna down for that "talk" about why they shouldn't resort to violence, and what other methods they could use to get their emotions out. He hated every second of it. But he did enjoy watching you in your professional element. You were stern and serious, but still had a gentleness about you that showed you actually cared.

Uncle!Sukuna who was falling, real hard, real fast.

But he pushed that aside, instead offering to take Choso out for the day that weekend. He could tell the boy needed some cheering up, and your worry was only getting worse, so he offered to take Choso to some "kid-appropriate guy stuff", and asked you to help Yuji with the finishing touches on his project. Both boys were up for it, and when Saturday hit, you and Yuji waved Choso and him goodbye.

Uncle!Sukuna who couldn't deny that the car ride was a little awkward. He still wasn't very good with kids, and honestly, he was starting to wonder what he was thinking when he offered to do this. He liked the kid, sure, but he knew very little about him. One thing he did know was that Choso and himself were very bad with people, and general socialization wasn't really their thing. So from the house to the mall, the car was silent.

It wasn't until he parked, turning the car off, that Choso spoke.

"I know you like my mom."

Sukuna is silent, stunned by the sudden call-out. He stares out the windshield blankly before his eyes move to the rearview mirror, meeting Choso's. Th boy looks calm and sure.

"You don't have be friendly with me just to get on her good side. She already likes you too." Choso added after a short period of silence.

His words make Sukuna's brow furrow. He ignores the part about you liking him back, turning his head to glare straight at the boy.

"Listen, brat. You're here with me because I wanted you to be, not so I could get brownie points with your mom. Now say something like that again, and I'll throw you in the mall fountain." He quickly got out of the front, leaving Choso to blush at his words. He has a small smile on his face when he climbs out.

Nothing more was said as they walked into the mall. Sukuna took him to the comic store first, that being the whole reason they were there. He watched as the kids eyes lit up, looking around at all the images of his favorite superhero's . It made Sukuna smirk.

"Get what you want. If you see something you think Yuji would like too, let me know." He said before they split up. Choso went to look for his favorites, making sure to keep an eye out for Yuji's too.

Sukuna kept his eye on the kid as he browsed, not caring much about looking at the selection. But his eyes caught on one of the covers, making him pause as a memory surfaces from the pits of his brain.

A young Sukuna is approached by his twin, the younger of the two having his usual grin on his face, while his older brother had nothing but a scowl. Sukuna barely acknowledged his brother until he is standing in front of him, looking far to excited for no reason at all.

"What?"

"It's our birthday tomorrow!" Jin replied. Sukuna rolled his eyes.

"I know that, idiot. Like you said, it's our birthday."

"Well I wanted to give you your present early."

Sukuna looked at his younger twin, confused. They never got each other gifts.

He doesn't get a chance to ask before Jin pulls out a flat, wrapped gift from behind his back. He holds it out to Sukuna, his grin never wavering. Sukuna slowly takes it, holding it in his hand for a second with a skeptical look on his young face.

"Open it." Jin encouraged.

Sukuna listened, tearing off the wrapping paper slowly to reveal a comic book still preserved in the plastic. Sukuna examines the cover, recognizing it as one he's seen Jin read before, one that Sukuna had actually been interested in reading (though he never said that).

"I know you've wanted to read it, so i thought I'd get you a copy. That way, it's something we can enjoy together." Jin admits, practically bouncing up and down with his excitement for Sukuna's reaction.

The older twin is surprised by the thoughtfulness of the gift, and his twins desire to have something they can share. It makes his chest feel full, but he clears his throat in an attempt to appear unaffected. Even at 10, he preferred appearing reserved.

"Uh..thanks, loser." He says after a second, ignoring his brothers grin. Jin can see right through him. "I didn't get you anything." He adds.

"That's okay. Just make sure to tell me what you think once you've read it."

Jin leaves, and Sukuna is left looking down at the colorful cover.

That comic was one of the few things Sukuna ever shared with his brother. It was one of the few things they could talk about and enjoy, finally having a common ground. Sukuna would never had said it before, but he could admit, at least to himself, now that this one comic brought him and Jin a little bit closer.

Which is why he picks it up, not bothering to look at anything else when he moves toward Choso. The kid had already picked out a few comics, some for him, some for Yuji (though he couldn't read that well yet). The two checked out, before making their way through the rest of the mall.

They walked through a few stores, Sukuna buying whatever Choso wanted without complaint. The kid was grateful each time, not expecting Sukuna to do so. But eventually, Sukuna was tired of hearing "are you sure? thank you" over and over.

"Say thank you again and I'll take it all back." He threatened. Choso laughed, nodding in agreement. Sukuna wasn't as intimidating when you got to know him.

They finished their afternoon with some food in the food court, before leaving with plenty of bags and two full bellies.

♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤

The care ride back was far less awkward, but the two still didn't talk much. They simply enjoyed the low music playing through the radio, and the easy ride home.

When they were close to the neighborhood, Choso spoke up.

"If you and my mom get married, would that make Yuji my brother?"

Sukuna blinked in surprise, glancing at the boy in the mirror. Choso had a curious look on his face, genuinely wondering.

"Yuji isn't my son." Sukuna answered after a moment, ignoring the feeling he gets at the idea of marrying you.

"So he'd be my..cousin?" Choso asked. That wasn't as cool as 'brother' but it wouldn't be too bad.

"I...I guess. Technically, yeah." Sukuna answered, trying to brush it off with a shrug. He didn't know why they were talking about this. "But your mom and I aren't even dating, so don't worry about shit like that."

"But you both want to date. Don't you?"

"Don't you have other things to worry about, brat? Since when are you so damn nosey?"

"Mom says it's good to be curious and ask questions."

"Yeah well, not about this. Just worry about your comics and your ma and I will worry about..all the other stuff."

Choso huffed, not happy with his question going unanswered, but figured it didn't make sense to push it. Not right now, at least.

"Well, I like you. And Yuji. So I hope, even if you don't date my mom, you both stick around." Choso admits. Sukuna looks back at him again.

"Yeah?" He sees Choso nod. "Well I...we like you too kid." He says, his voice a lot quieter and soft. His eyes return to the road, right as they turn down the street to your house.

Neither of them say anything more, but both feel a little bit lighter at the confession.

♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤

Uncle!Sukuna who walked into your house a few minutes later, to the sound of upbeat music playing and two voices, very off tune, singing along. He shares a look with Choso, before they walk further in. They stop at the kitchen, seeing you and Yuji dancing around together while seemingly baking. There's a sheet of cookies already laid on the counter to cool, telling Sukuna you both have probably been at this for a bit. He smirks as the smell finally catches up with Choso, who rushes forwards towards the two of you. The sound of his steps catches your attention.

Once again, Sukuna is sure his heart stops when you give your son a large grin, hugging him tightly. It gets worse when you look up, giving Sukuna the exact same beautiful smile.

You turn down the music as he walks into the room fully, Yuji immediately running towards his uncle to be picked up. His bright grin is in place as he starts to ramble about the things the two of you did. He's talking so fast that Sukuna can't understand but a few words, but he doesn't bother interrupting the boy. He simply holds him with one arm, staring at him with a raised, unamused brow. He sees you and Choso talking out of the corner of his eye.

Once Yuji has calmed down a little, you turn to look at them with another smile, handing Choso a cookie while you do.

"Did you get me anything, Uncle Kuna?" Yuji asks, staring at the man expectedly. Sukuna scoffs, wanting to call the boy spoiled for thinking he got him something. But he couldn't, because Sukuna did in fact get his gremlin of a nephew stuff.

"Yeah, but don't expect me to every time. I'm not gonna let you get spoiled." He glares slightly. Yuji ignores that completely, clapping happily at his uncle's words. He wiggled, wanting to be put down to go play. "tch. can't ever stay still." Sukuna mumbled as he set Yuji down. The kid immediately took off, grabbing Choso's hand on his way and dragging the surprised boy to another room of the house.

"Don't know where he's going. The shit's still in the car." Sukuna says with a smirk. His words make you laugh, bringing his attention back to you. "How was he?"

"He was lovely. We finished the project, I think it will score good, and then he wanted to bake some. Said his mom used to make cookies all the time, so I thought it would be a nice treat and help cheer him up." You answered. Sukuna was a little surprised at the mention of his late sister-in-law. Yuji didn't really talk about his parents much. But he didn't think much of it.

"They smell good. Surprised you let him have any before dinner." Sukuna smirked, knowing how strict you usually are about desserts before supper. He moved closer, leaning on the counter as you took the last back of cookies out of the oven.

You huffed playfully, setting the cookies down to cool.

"Well I'm not a monster. Finishing the project was a little emotional for him, so I wasn't gonna be strict with him about something as little as this." You replied. Sukuna frowned slightly at that, but he could understand why. "Also, I don't think I've ever heard of a pair of twins who are so totally opposites, I honestly wouldn't have known you were both related in any other situation." You teased.

"Wait, how'd you know Jin was my twin?" Sukuna asked, thrown back by your knowing something that he definitely never told you. Sure, you saw pictures, but him and Jin looked nothing alike, so surely the twin thing wouldn't be easy to assess. It was your turn to be confused, and you gave him a look as though the answer was obvious.

"Yuji, of course. He mentioned it a while ago. Did you not think that would ever come up?"

"Yuji talks about his parents that often?"

"Of course he does. He talks about them all the time. His dad apparently told him a lot about you, so he talks about that too."

Sukuna was shocked. Yuji hardly ever talked about his parents to him. He thought the kid was just a silent griever, like him, but apparently that wasn't the case. Sukuna frowned as he tried to understand why Yuji wouldn't want to talk about them with his own uncle.

You see this, understanding immediately where his confusion was coming from.

"Does he...not talk about them with you?" You ask softly.

"..No. not really. I figured he just..didn't like talking about them. Figured it might be hard for him." Sukuna answers. His frown turns to a slight scowl at the feeling that he might be doing something wrong. If Yuji wasn't coming to him to talk, didn't that mean he wasn't doing what he needed to in order to show the kid he could be there for him?

His thoughts are interrupted by your hand on his arm, and his eyes snap to meet yours.

"I don't think Yuji is the one who has trouble with it." You said gently. He got what you meant. "If you want to know why he doesn't, I think you should ask him." You added, just as the boys ran back into the room.

Sukuna watched as they excitedly showed you something they drew, contemplating your words. He knew you were right, you always were. He just didn't know how the hell to go about it. Talking wasn't his forte, none of this was, but especially not that.

But he remembered he told himself he would be better, and wanted Yuji to be open with him, even if he struggled with that himself. So he knew he'd have to figure out a way to talk to the brat, sooner rather than later.

He decided to save that for later tonight, though, when you turned to him with another pretty smile, as Yuji runs towards him to shove his drawing into the mans face.

Uncle!Sukuna who gets offended when you offer to pay him back for everything he got Choso, simply walking away without dignifying you with a response. He basically pouted as he helped you make dinner, making it seem like you has actually insulted him. It made you laugh.

Uncle!Sukuna who isn't surprised when he finds Yuji and Choso passed out on the couch once more. In the short time after dinner, while Sukuna help you clean up, they had gone to watch some TV. He will never understand how they can go from so energetic to snoring and halfway falling off of the couch.

Uncle!Sukuna who smirks when Yuji actually does fall off of the couch. He still didn't wake up, making Sukuna shake his head in disbelief. He was pretty sure the kid could sleep through anything.

Uncle!Sukuna who approached your bed room, knocking on the door softly. He couldn't help but admire you when you opened the door, obviously getting ready to go to bed soon. You smiled again, opening the door to allow him inside.

"They're asleep aren't they?" You assumed with a chuckle. He smirked, nodding as he examined your room.

"Knocked out." He confirmed.

"Yuji can stay here tonight, if you don't want to carry him back to yours." You offered, looking at him through your mirror. His brow raised, smirk growing.

"What about me? Can't I stay too?" He teased, giving you a flirty smile. You flushed, breaking eye contact and shaking you head fondly.

"You can if you'd like." You replied after a moment, looking back at him. You see his smile drop in surprise, making you smirk. "Plenty of room on the couch for you." You added, teasing him.

His shoulders dropped, a scoff leaving him as he shook his head. His reaction made you chuckle. He moves closer and you turn to face him fully.

Sukuna remembers he had a plan, to ask you out on another date. And while this wasn't how he intended to do it, it feels like the perfect time.

"Tease," He grumbled. His hands settled on your waste, holding you just like he did when he kissed you. "What are you doing next weekend?" He asked.

You flushed, hands going to his chest because you weren't sure when else to put them. This was the closest you two has been since your date.

"Um, nothing specifically. Choso won't be here, so I was just gonna get some stuff done around the house. Why?" You replied. You could guess why he asked, but you wanted to be sure before getting your hopes up.

"How about we get to that second date?" He asked, doing his best to appear confident in his questioning. He hoped you were on the same page.

Your instant smile reassured him that you did.

"Oh yeah? I don't know, the house could really use a deep clean." You teased. He scoffed, glaring at you with no heat behind it.

"Don't be a brat." He replied, making your smile grow. His jaw clenched as he hesitated. "You..do wanna go on another one, right?" He forced himself to ask. He wanted to be clear with you, straightforward to the best of his ability.

Your smile softened.

"Yes, Sukuna. I'd love to go on another date with you." You said. The look of relief on his face made you want to tease him more, but you decided to give him a break.

He smirked softly, pulling you closer. He didn't say anything more, and neither did you. You ended the night with a soft, sweet kiss, before he left your bedroom. He took Choso and Yuji to bed in Choso's room, before actually laying on your couch. Both of you fell asleep with little smiles, feeling more secure in whatever it was between the two of you than before.

♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤

let me know what you think! also, would ppl like to see a snippet that's about reader and Yuji's afternoon together while sukuna and choso aren't there? I realize sometimes i focus too much on one dynamic and might leave another out a bit. I assure you guys there will be plenty more about sukuna and reader in the next part! I just think it's important to build their relationships with Yuji and Choso.

I'm thankful for any constructive criticism! Thank you for reading, and all the support <3333

barely proofread

[moonydustx]

Hiiii!! I love your writing and was wondering if you’re still accepting requests? If so could I have one where reader is dressed in a similar outfit to Nami’s purple Zou outfit and there’s a big party happening and reader gets self conscious bc no ones talking to her during said party so she leaves to go back to her room that has a balcony and as she’s staring down at the party Law comes in to see why she left so she like tells him she feels ridiculous in her outfit and it turns out that Law was jealous that other people got to see her in such an outfit because he likes her so much that he was staring people down so no one would take her attention and he confesses how he feels under the stars on the balcony? and maybe there’s smut🤭🤭🤭 You can skip this request if you want!! I know i wrote a lot 😅

hello, anyone there?

Sorry for the delay in responding to your request and sort of answering your question, yes, I still accept requests, but I've been working kind of 10 hour days + responsibilities at home, which hasn't given me much time to write.

I made some small adjustments to your suggestion, I honestly hope you don't hate me.

•••

my reach

info: what sensations can a pirate life bring? After a victory, a celebration can mean many things.

warnings: text not proofread, will possibly have some errors as English isn't my first language. a kittle bit angst, F!reader have some insecurities, smut, doing in open skies, a little dirty talk.

For those who haven't reached Zou, this is the reference dress.

You didn't know what was echoing louder at that moment: the drunken voices, the singing or your thoughts. It was a party, you should have been happy or at least a little confident.

After so many fights and disputes, the alliance between the pirates had finally worked out and apparently you would finally have some time of peace. What didn't need many more reasons than this for Luffy, captain of one of the allied crews, to suggest a huge banquet, a party that would probably last for days and no one would question it. The good thing about having other crews together was that the reduced number of women - in the heart pirates it was the large number of two, you and Ikkaku - increased, even if not so radically, just enough to fill the fingers of one hand.

"You really didn't like it?" Nami turned you in front of a mirror, forcing you to look at yourself once more. "It suits you so much."

"I think it looks amazing." Robin added with a simple smile. "And it's a banquet between friends, there's nothing to worry about."

"I agree, but after being so stressed with so many events, I think we deserve a more dressed-up day." Nami added, adjusting one of the straps on your dress. "And also a little alcohol, a little flirting, seriously, being a pirate can't be just that and besides there are so many different people here."

"But don't you think it's a bit much?" Your voice wavered a little and you had to dodge the pillow Ikkaku threw in your direction.

"Don't listen to her. We've been underwater for so long and in our uniforms that I think she's lost her common sense."

"Don't talk nonsense." You shot back, laughing. "Okay, a little alcohol won't hurt." About the flirting part, you don't know how safe you would feel with that.

The main deck of the ship was something almost impossible to cross. Some people walked around each other, singing songs that were almost impossible to decipher, others toasted and competed over how many mugs they could down at once. You just went with the flow, keeping up with the others' hurried steps.

It wasn't long before a drink occupied your hand and you got lost in some almost frivolous conversations. The stress you had recently experienced seemed to prevent everyone from thinking about anything more serious and, to be honest, not even you wanted to get caught up in problems at that moment.

"Ladies." Sanji's voice came across the entire space, in his hand some appetizers and you tried hard to ignore the fact that he was almost drooling. "You are the most beautiful thing my eyes have ever seen, I would write poems about you..."

In a somewhat strange juggling act, you saw him try to balance the tray in one hand and, with the other, twist to alternate between your colleague's hands, placing a kiss on each of them. Except for you, to whom he just smiled in your direction and headed in the opposite direction. Even staring at the other women present, that seemed like a common situation so you allowed yourself to ignore it.

With an almost lame excuse, your feet took you to the other side of the ship, where you could see your captain's sullen face while being disturbed by other crewmates.

"A good victory." You raised your glass, toasting first to Shachi, then Penguin and finally Law, who seemed to be immersed in something inside his own mind.

"Look, I don't think we've ever seen you so..." Shachi couldn't finish speaking before getting elbowed by his crewmate.

"Are you enjoying the party?" Law asked as soon as the two left with some excuse that you didn't try to understand what it was about.

"Yes, as much as possible."

You even thought about commenting on how you had become an outcast, even though in the hours before you had been trying hard to achieve the exact opposite result. However, for a flash, you were sure that Law was analyzing you. From top to bottom, inch by inch.

"Is there a problem, Captain?" A smile filled your lips as you saw him startled as he was pulled out of his own mind.

"Dresses. You don't usually wear them." He seemed lost in his own words. "It looks..."

Beautiful? Interesting? God, the milliseconds of waiting before Law finished speaking seemed like a small infinity of possibilities in your mind. A place where he had a certain captive vacancy, but he wouldn't even dream of it.

"It looks different." He pointed out and you could only nod.

Different. Okay, it's not the worst answer but it's far from a good one. The relationship between the captain and the subordinate of the two of you was intrinsically... different. Strangely comfortable, uncomfortably distant. He would always prefer to discuss some decisions with you and to the jealousy filled with tantrums and laughter of some, he would insist that you were the best cook of the crew. On your side, you loved ask him for tips, from books to medicines, and whenever possible, you would insist on having him stitch you up after some battles. You hated scars and he was the only one who could prevent them. It was a different relationship, he occupied a somewhat different place in you, but that didn't need to be exposed.

Apparently, if the efforts to look even minimally pretty that night didn't affect him, it wouldn't make any difference anymore. With an almost invisible smile on your lips, you just nodded and left him there. You started talking to some, laughed with others, but it didn't seem to work. From the idea of ​​alcohol and flirting, apparently only the first part was working. Heavens, Brook hadn't even asked about the color of your panties.

Luckily, keeping the ships close to each other meant that it wasn't difficult for you to reach the empty deck of the Polar Tang. The sound of the party was getting a little more distant. The full moon illuminated the entire night and, in addition to reflecting on the sea, created an almost distorted shadow of your body. Was that what you were then? You let your hand run over your dress, analyzing every stitch. Nothing was out of place, nothing seemed wrong with the outfit. The problem must be you.

"I would invest a good amount of berries for your thoughts." Law's voice startled you, which made him laugh. "Did you need some time to breathe?"

"Yeah, I guess so." You leaned against the edge of the deck, drowning in your own frustrations.

"I still have some berries to invest." He tried to lighten the mood, leaning against your side. "I know my crew too well. What happened?"

"It's just... is that all there is to a pirate's life?" You turned around, frustrated. "Tonight I wanted to feel something different from all the stress we have. Something more interesting than the smell of gunpowder, than the sting of a blade."

"I think there's enough booze there for you to feel much more than that."

"It's not that, Law. Geez, I dressed in a way I've never dressed before. Makeup, heels, perfume and still, I'm an outcast." you said frustrated and saw a smirk escape his lips. "Man, this isn't funny. I mean, not even Brook cared about my panties?"

"About that..." he began, his fingers adjusting his hat that wasn't out of place, just like a nervous tic. "Maybe someone threatened to throw him into the sea before he could even speak."

"What do you mean?"

"And maybe I told Sanji that if he got close to you his balls would sink to the bottom of the sea too. And maybe I said something similar to Killer, but he's more rational so he didn't need that much of a threat. And I definitely punched Kid."

"You punched Kid?"

"He said some really disgusting things." Law spoke with a frighteningly ordinary naturalness.

However, for you none of that was ordinary. You just stood there, still, watching the little confessions that came out of Law's lips. So he had pushed you away from everyone? That wouldn't make any sense. Unless...

"Apparently I was brave enough to do all that, but I've been a coward in hiding what I feel. You don't look any different, you look beautiful and I can guarantee that I wasn't the only one who thought that."

"You just made sure I didn't know that, right?"

"Sorry." he commented still in a frustrated tone, but taking a few steps enough to stop in front of you. "I like you, I really do. It got to a point where I found myself reading more books just to know what to recommend to you, I found myself hating being a doctor because I have to stitch you up every time you get into a fight at the same time I wouldn't let anyone touch you for that." He sighed deeply. The short distance between the two of you made your fingers itch to hug him. "What you said makes sense, we're pirates, we shouldn't only feel war inside us."

"What else can we feel then?"

Your lips touched before his hands even reached your waist. It was hard to know what had given you goosebumps more: the cold wind against your bare skin, the way your body was leaning against the edge of the deck, making you imminent of falling, or the way he had advanced on you. Definitely the third option.

His tongue began to invade your space, tracing delicious routes through your mouth, a fight for space that you had no interest in winning. His hands traced your curves until they rested on your waist. Whoever invented the theory that two bodies occupied the same place would probably be a good spectator for the way the two of you snuggled together.

Law seemed to have no shortage of air since, when he gave you space to breathe, his lips simply slid to the hollow of your neck. Wet kisses mixed with small grunts that would be marked on your skin, drawn like a map just for him, just for Law.

His eyes met yours as his kisses continued towards the neckline of your dress. A loud request - but still silent - to explore you beyond where his lips could reach at that moment.

"We could go somewhere else." You suggested breathlessly and saw him bury his face in your breasts, sighing deeply. "I really don't plan on being naked here."

"Naked? Nah." Without even hesitating, he supported you on the edge of the deck, preventing you from falling towards the sea by slipping into the gap between your legs. "I've been looking at you in that dress for too long to want to see you without it now."

"You've been looking?"

"Tell me, wasn't that exactly why you put it on?" An involuntary sigh escaped your lips when one of his hands slid down the inside of your thigh. "You drive me insane normally, but this... do you want to know what I thought?"

The question was rhetorical since beyond the moonlight, lust illuminated the eyes of the man tied to you. A moan escaped your lips as his fingers trailed over the damp fabric between your legs.

"Shh, we need to be discreet, okay? Can you be a good girl and stay quiet?" His fingers intensified the pressure, small circles under the damp fabric sending your mind into a spiral. "I promise to take you inside, let you make all the noise you want. And then I'll leave you naked, have all my time just for you."

"What if I want to stay here?" The question sounded like a challenge and you could have sworn that behind the fabric of his pants something had pulsed. "You still haven't told me what you thought, about the dress."

"What I thought..." he gently pulled you down from the support and turned you back to him. Your body automatically leaned forward, seeking contact. "The first idea that came to mind was you like this, on my table. All beautiful ready for me."

His hands adjusted the fabric of your dress so that it was to the side. His nimble fingers traced an indecipherable pattern on the skin of your ass, outlining the thin fabric of your panties.

"May I..." He asked, still circling the piece and saw you nod. With a delicacy unfamiliar to you, you felt him pull the fabric aside.

"Fuck." The word came out of his lips involuntarily. The sight made him hungrier than any dish he had seen at the banquet.

"What else did you think?" You asked, hearing the sound of his zipper.

"You're smart, I believe you know very well what I thought."

Silent kisses ran down your exposed back. The cold night breeze made contact with your damp skin, causing shivers. The first touch of his cock against your pussy elicited a shy moan from you as his teeth scraped your skin, whispering a shh once more, even though thrusting inside you had forced him to press his face against the back of your neck. The almost inaudible sounds that escaped your lips were enough for Law to almost explode right there.

He should have stopped being a coward before. It was only the first time and he didn't know how he could consider staying without feeling you.

"I'm sorry." He said, moving slowly. "You deserved better than the deck of a submarine."

"We're under the stars. Do you want something even better?" You said breathlessly, stretching your hand to reach his dark strands of hair. Law practically put his head under your hand, sinking into your neck. "Law!"

"I told you princess, no noise." He thrust harder, watching you press your lips together and hold back another moan. "Such a good girl, my good girl."

"A p-princess, huh?"

"My princess, yes. All dressed up like that I couldn't think of anything better." You barely understood how he could form a coherent thought while he was thrusting torturously and deliciously inside you. "I could call it an angel too. The way this beautiful pussy is squeezing me is definitely divine." His laugh at your moan sounded almost devilish, however.

The thrusts began to intensify and you pulled his hand that was holding your torso to cover your mouth, vainly containing the moans that escaped. You could already be clawing at the stars when you felt him pulling out of you. An almost drastic fall from the sky you were in.

"I want to look at you, beautiful thing." He turned you around to face him, lifting you up again. "I want to see that beautiful face when you cum."

"Then come back here now." You locked your legs around him, feeling his delicious invasion of you.

His lips once again took yours, just as voracious - if not even more so - than the first time. His coming and going grew louder and louder as he felt your voice vibrate against his. Moans being censored by each other.

"Hold on to me." He pulled away just enough to ask and you readily complied.

The abyss was getting closer and closer, the knot in your belly getting tighter and tighter. You stuck your body to his at first for fear of falling, but each time it became even more of a need to merge. Your screams hid in the small gap between the two of you, your skin would surely be sore at the slightest since his teeth dug in there as he filled you with his seed.

"I think..." he supported you back, still holding your waist with one hand. With the other, he lifted the shirt he was wearing. Both your eyes and his were guided to where your bodies joined. "We made a bit of a mess."

"A bit?" Your finger caught some of your mixed cum, bringing it to your own lips. "Delicious mess."

"Keep it up and you won't be coming back to the party." A light laugh escaped him as he heard you grunt as he pulled out of you. "On second thought, we don't need to go back."

"Law, you're the captain of one of the crews that was more than essential to the conquest."

"Well, that's a good idea." He said as he adjusted his own clothes and then repeated the gesture with yours. "Some clueless people will be able to know that you are out of their reach."

"Am I?"

"If your captain says so, I believe you should agree." He pointed out.

Your hands comforted his cheeks, smoothing every inch you could touch. A calm, almost chaste kiss escaped you. Anyone who saw from afar would imagine it was just a simple kiss and would not even be able to consider what you were doing a short time ago.

"I - I mean, I really want to keep you out of their reach. Only within my reach." That was it, in so much time as captain and subordinate, you had never seen Law look so nervous.

"Sounds like a good plan to me, captain. However, I hope it is reciprocal." He nodded, stealing another kiss from you.

Going back to the party seemed different. As soon as Law led you back to the ship, you let go of each other's hands, a small agreement of secrecy silently negotiated between you. However, you could feel him in you, in unconventional - and delicious - ways. Occasionally, you could feel his gaze burning in your direction, with distant care.

"Can I talk to you?" Zoro's voice startled you before you even noticed his hand on your waist. "Would you like to have a drink somewhere more private?"

"I'm drinking..." You pointed to the mug in your hand, but it took you a few seconds to fully understand what he was saying. "Oh, no. I mean, thank you, but no. I'm accompanied."

"Accompanied? So your captain finally stopped being a wimp?" Zoro saw and glanced sideways, not surprised to see that whatever Robin was talking to Law about seemed like a distant subject. "Nami asked me to do this, to see if he would do something."

"Hey, swordsman." You could hear the irritation in Law's voice from afar and it was clear how unhappy he was at that moment. "Is there a problem with her?"

"No, Captain, everything's fine here." You smiled in his direction and waved at Zoro, who just ignored what Law had said and left.

"So..." You started, trying to give your best mischievous smile. Which was much easier after remembering everything. "My drink is gone and I think I'm tired. I'm thinking about going back to Polar Tang."

"Sure, I can accompany you." Law said in false modesty.

You could count on your fingers how many steps you took towards a more empty place before the starry night turned into a room you didn't usually visit. Your body soon found his bed, your dress turned into a pile of fabric on the floor. His kisses finally freed to explore every inch of your nudity.

"I think I need to make it even clearer that you're out of their reach."

[systlin]

You know I have repeatedly seen people in the forums of the hellpits of the Interwebs I have crawled through on this cursed quest for knowledge be like 'oh yeah the early ones are just planetary swords and sorcery fantasy they aren't that bad for the first five books'.

This, my friends, is a filthy fuckass lie.

Book THREE is this

And everything in this book is batshit

Go ahead if you don't believe me.

To summarize a lot of shit more succinctly;

Tarl ends up on Gor again for Reasons. He in the last book found that his city of Ko Ro Ba was burnt to the ground by the Flame Death for Reasons, and swore revenge upon the Priest Kings.

(No, it is never answered what the Priest Kings are priests OF. Themselves, I assume?)

So, he goes to the Sardar, where they're supposed to live. The Sardar is a mountain range that is entirely walled off with a log palisade. I will let y'all do the mental math on how absolutely bugfuck wild it would be to build a wall around an entire mountain range. He's told a few times that anyone who goes into the mountains dies, but goes anyway because He's A Speshul Boy.

He of course finds the door to the underground high tech ant nest that the Priest Kings call the Nest. It is guarded by two saber toothed tigers on chains. I would think giant two million year old ant wasp praying mantids could get a better security system but I guess not. He does some Manly Posturing but is about to get mauled to death when, unfortunately, a dude lets him in.

The dude who is like the butler or secretary or whatever for the Priest Kings is named Parp.

Fucking

Parp

Anyway Tarl is put in a room with a hot lady named Vika who is a slave. She insists she hates him because Norm seems to think that showing scorn and hatred is how women flirt (this is a common thread through all his books.) Tarl finds her disagreeable because she doesn't beg to suck his dick immediately. If I were her I would have killed him with a straight razor but whatever.

So THEN there's like fifty pages of bullshit about slavery and how it's totally great for women and they love it it makes their hot love oils just GUSH, and yes I am sorry for writing that sentence. Eventually Tarl escapes the little room and sees an actual Priest King, and goes, predictably, 'what the hell is this thing'

The Priest King introduces itself as Misk. Misk says that Priest Kings have no genders save for the Queen and her mate, but Tarl insists on calling the genderless alien bug 'him' through the whole book. Now, you will remember that Tarl came to this place in the first fucking place because he wanted to kill the Priest Kings for destroying his city, which is a fine motivation!

It goes out the window here. Misk tells Tarl that Tarl is a Good Special Friend Boy and Tarl is immediately like we are friends and I would die for you. Misk immediately shows friendship by putting Tarl in a Contraption that gives him a forced medical examination and cleaning and laxative. This is not the last time this happens to Tarl and you can really map out some of Norm's kinks by following such threads.

SO IT TURNS OUT that the Priest Kings and MISK SPECIFICALLY leveled Tarl's city to get his attention so that Misk could send Tarl on a quest for the last queen egg of the Priest Kings. Because, see, the old mother is, well, old. She isn't laying eggs any longer, and the priest kings are all, minimum, thousands of years old. Misk is two million years old. Process that for a sec.

Okay.

Anyway there has been an ongoing power struggle in the nest because a lot of the Priest Kings don't want to give up power, and power is determined by birth order from the current Mother. So several Priest Kings have been killing queen eggs for several million years. Misk smuggled out the last one and now wants it back to hatch a new mother. You will know where it is if you read my hatefic.

Leave aside the fact that there is no fucking way that egg is still viable. This is apparently A Threat, so Sarm...the main egg killing PK...and Misk now engage in a power struggle, each trying to use Tarl to kill the other. There is a scene involving gollums with suction cup feet milking the priest kings that is the weirdest fucking thing I've ever read, and I've read some weird shit.

Oh. Also there is a golden beetle that eats PK's. It exudes a pheremone that makes them nut so far as I can tell? And then it slurps their innards out like a spider. It also reproduces in the most horrible way. If you've read Bloodchild by Octavia Butler you know what I mean. It's sacred to the Priest Kings for some fucking reason. They offer Vika to it for this purpose, but Tarl saves her and now she loves him.

Also the PK's have thousands of slaves in the nest. They shave them utterly bare, make them wear plastic, and make them shower six times a day. Any who misbehave are sent to the Dissection Room. They theoretically all eat a kind of bland white fungus and vitamin pellets but I call horseshit. Slave Pellets Are People, folks.

SO. There's a big war in the Nest over who gets to be in charge. Norm manages to make a laser gun battle over a glowing probably nuclear reactor boring. They almost explode the planet but don't, and Misk's side eventually wins. Tarl sets out to retrieve the last queen egg for Misk, having utterly forgotten his fury at his actual whole city being leveled, with presumably his Free Companion and his father among the dead. But well, Misk gave him headpats and a literal gerbil cage to live in, so I guess that's enough for him.

The book ends there. It's. It's absolute fucking batshittery, every word of it. And I'm cutting out all the nonsense about slavery and how Men Are Natural Masters and women are Natural Slaves and a solid 50% of the more mundane but still absolutely wild shit here.

THIS IS BOOK THREE. THIS STILL HAD AN EDITOR

you know, as you are the resident Tumblr expert on the gor books, I for one would love it if you were to write a summary/essay/rant for some of the books so the rest of us can know what's going on without actually having to read it. I'm morbidly curious but not subjecting myself to that. I'm certain that you would to a wonderful entirely objective not at all opinionated job. So if you ever feel like bashing the books publicly some more, please do

oh, god

I should actually. I should. But god damn there's so many and every one of them has new heinous shit

For now, I'll drop this knowledge; in the most recent, published only last year, the protag is Agnes, an astrophysicist working at a small radio observatory.

This is important because she notes some weird shit in the orbit of Jupiter. As in, radio signals that are clearly of intelligent origin. She does the thing you would do, which is check to see if there are any probes there. There are not.

So she pokes her nose in further, and finds the Kurii planetoid ships. Thinking 'this can't be right' she sends. She sends the data. She sends the data to fucking. Colleagues to verify it.

Colleagues working at the VLA with SETI

The Kurii then 'vanish' her to gor, where the regular 'oh I love being a slave actually' shit plays out. She's told that this will be shut down on earth by one (1) senior scientist in Kurii pay saying it's nonsense no shut up don't look there again.

Me; dude. DUDE. IF SHE SENT THAT DATA TO SETI THEY ARE COUNTING HULL RIVETS ON THOSE THINGS WITH THE VLA AND EVERY ASTROPHYCISIST ON THE PLANET KNOWS NOW. IT'S GAME OVER BRO. CAT OUT OF BAG AND YOU WROTE IT YOURSELF.

THE ASTROPHYSICISTS SMELL UNLIMITED GRANT FUNDING DUDE. THEY ARE SEEING THEIR NAME IN TEXTBOOKS. IT'S OVER MAN.

EARTH IS GONNA BE LANDING SHIPS WITHIN A YEAR, DUDE

[americas-ass-writing]

Not the game they play

Steve Rogers x reader

Words: 4.1k

Summary: An arranged marriage flips your life upside down. What you thought you knew about your family doesn't seem to be true at all. How will Steve and you navigate your life together?

Warnings: angst, mentions of death, a swear word here and there, insulting of Sarah Rogers, yes that needed to be a warning, difficult family relationship, if I missed anything please let me know

A/N: This is the first part of a series. I had this idea for over two years with some scenes already written out or well thought through. Thank you all for encouraging me to finally do something with it. But don't come for me, you wanted this!

I promised to tag the lovely @ronearoundblindly 🩷

Divider by @saradika-graphics

Chapter One - Cannot stop the rain

The constant bustle of people and their conversations were a white noise like no other. One you can't concentrate on too long, especially when you have to hold conversation with whoever thought it was his turn to smooze a king.

Steve hates galas. He hates the pretentiousness that came with them and the people who attended but most of all he hates that he had no choice but to go. A king missing one of these was only excused when a serious matter arose. And those don't come by easily when you need them. He yearned for the times when he didn't need to attend these things, back when his mom still was the reigning queen and shielded him from this world. But with his mom gone he had to step up.

Gone where the days he travelled the world, studied art and made new friends. So easily replaced with duty and grief... and a stupid crown on his head. He was lucky enough he could hire his friends as staff, lucky enough his oldest friend was his right hand man and never left him alone for too long. James Bucky Barnes, his childhood defender, his best friend, his right hand and occasionally, much to Steve's dismay, his wingman. If only that would have worked out already. He seems to be casually watching people dance but in reality he watches the couples spend quality time together at a stuck up event. If he had a partner maybe this wouldn't be so bad? Maybe people wouldn't constantly come up to talk to him because he'd be dancing himself, someone in his arms, looking at him lovingly...

"Senator Lee is coming up next" a smooth voice mumbles over his shoulder, Sam Wilson. A friend he found in college, a politics major and his chief of staff. Steves eyes find the older gentleman approaching him. He's talked with him before, quite often actually, and he was always so kind and encouraging.

The small talk with senator Lee went by faster than Steve anticipated. Before the next person could swoop in to talk to him he excused himself to the restroom. Bucky, his honorary security detail for the evening since he refused to take his actual one, made to follow him. "It's just the bathroom Buck. I'll be fine and I'll come straight back here." he says lowly, his eyes rolling at the antics. He didn't need this much security before he became a king. Bucky hesitates for a moment, his eyes flickering to Sam who looks a bit unsure himself. "I mean... It's just the bathroom... No danger there. Nat wouldn't go inside with him either right?" Steve lets out a sigh at Sam's statement. Natasha, the head of security, ruled with an iron fist. She had all of them so scared they wouldn't dare to disobey her orders... except maybe her husband Clint but he got free passes for life.

"Right... Just come right back here?" Bucky looks at him and with a sigh and a nod Steve agrees. Before they can say anything else and before whatever lady just seems to approach them can start to talk, Steve hurries to the restroom. He locks himself in a cabin just for a few moments alone. But even those aren't truly alone.

The door to the restroom opens up not too long after him and of course that person takes ages to do their business. With a silent grumble Steve finishes up and leaves the cabin to wash his hands. Just then the door to another cabin opens and an older gentleman with thinning grey hair, in a three piece suit steps out. His eyes meet Steve's in the mirror as he walks up to the sink area himself. They look cold, although he has a smile plastered on his face. Fake niceties like Steve has grown used to.

"King Rogers." He acknowledges and Steve simply gives a nod. He isn't even safe in the fucking bathroom!

"Black isn't really your colour." Steve's brows furrow. What was that supposed to mean? "You know many families waited for the old crone to finally step down and let you be the king. Women shouldn't hold that much power, especially when there's no king at her side to keep her in check. Who would have thought it would take her to die for you to finally step up." The man seems calm and collected as if he didn't just insult Steve's mother.

"What the fuck did you say about my mom? Old crone?!" His blood was boiling and he was this close to hitting the old man if it weren't for his manners. His mom raised him better but she wasn't here to keep him in check was she?

"Oh calm down Steven. No need to get all flustered and angry. Hold your tongue before you say something you'll regret. We'll be one happy family soon after all." The man smirked and calmly dried his hands. He teaches over and turns off Steve's tab, the blonde frozen from anger. What did he just say? He must be demented. "What?" Is all that Steve can bring out. Confused and angry and still so so close to punch that guy.

"Oh you don't know. Can't say I'm surprised, your mother shielded you a lot. Now I have to do all the explaining. That's why women should never be in charge.” he rolls his eyes. “Are you familiar with the Hastings family?" The man hands Steve one of the towels and casually leans against the sink. Hastings? Steve has heard that name before... Wasn't that the royal family that fell from grace three generations ago? His eyes flit to the man.

"Sounds familiar." Is all he can grid out. What is this man on about? Is he just here to gossip?

"Clever boy." The smirk on the old man's face is uncanny. As if he can read Steve all too well. "You know exactly who they are but instead of going off to gossip like all the other royals out there you keep your answer neutral. What a good king you make." Steve's confusion grows.

"What does the Hastings family have to do with us becoming one?" Steve bites out. "Ah straight to business. Just how I like it. You see the Hastings family and the Rogers family go way back. Many, many generations in fact. King Joseph Rogers the first and King George Hastings even made a little pact, that yes, still stands today." His eyes search Steve's face and his grin looks so satisfied. "That the families will unite as soon as there is a male and female heir born into the families. Now ever since then both families only bore strong sons with an occasional daughter that was out of the age range for marriage. That is until roughly 30 years ago. When you and my granddaughter were born just two years apart." Steve's brow lifts. The old man was a Hastings. Wanting to fulfill a deal that was made over a hundred years ago... Bullshit.

"Whatever deal you're referring to will not stand with today's laws. So you can stop badmouthing my mom and trying to get me to marry your desperate granddaughter now." Steve spits. The man just grins. "Oh, it will Steven. Here let your lawyers check this and then get back to me about when my granddaughter can move in with you. " He laughs and hands Steve an envelope before he walks out of the restroom and back into the gala.

Steve's eyes fall on the envelope, it's burning in his hands but he needs to get this checked. He can't marry someone because of an old deal. He can't marry someone with a grandfather daring to insult his mom that's not even been dead for a month. Steve's eyes start to burn with tears. His mom shielded him from so much while she also did her best to prepare him for this life... He wishes she was here... That he wouldn't need to mourn her so publicly while also keeping his tears in to not seem weak. He wishes he could wear the dark blue suits she got for him because according to her that's the colour he looks the most handsome in. He wishes she could brush his hair out of his face one more time. Just once more with that sweet smile that was reserved for him only.

He takes a shakey breath and swallows the lump in his throat. A brief look in the mirror, a deep breath, straightening his tie. He can't show weakness. Not here, not ever. 'Safe the tears for your bedroom, Rogers.' the voice in his head commands. He wipes away the stray tear that got caught in his lashes, pockets the envelope and with another deep breath makes his way back to his friends.

They're chatting, most likely teasing each other. As soon as Bucky sees him both heads turn to Steve with a concerned gaze swiping up and down. They seem to come to the conclusion that he's okay and relax. "We need to leave." he says as soon as he reaches them. His tone more urgent than he wanted to. "Why you got diarrhea? Took you pretty long in there... I told ya to lay it easy on the hors d'oeuvres." Bucky teases with a grin that immediately falls as soon as he sees Steves eyes. Sam can't even get his joke in before Bucky declares that they're leaving. He leads Steve to the host of the gala for a quick goodbye and then out to the car they came in.

Within 10 minutes they're on the road. For the first time with only the three of them in the car, Steve pulls up the divider for privacy. Shielded from Sam and Bucky, he allows himself to spill a few tears for his mother before he can make it to the safety of his bedroom. He knows that will be away for another few hours, especially with the envelope that's burning a hole into his pocket.

Ever since you were young your family hasn't cared much for you. The only thing that was important to them was that you did exactly what they wanted... in every aspect of your life. You got the education they wanted, you went to college for what they wanted and you hid your interests to make them like you. At the beginning of your twenties you finally broke out of that circle. You moved far away with your friend and only occasionally visited for important matters, much to their dismay. Just like you were now.

The train ride never isn't boring, even with a good book and music. The most thrilling plot or the most beautiful lyrics couldn't distract you from the stranger sitting next to you. Somehow you always had the luck of them eating something disgusting, talking loudly on the phone, constantly bumping into you or being a stranger to the concept of headphones.

Your eyes wander over to your friend and her husband for the millionth time. They were sitting together, cuddling, yet somehow each minding their own business. Her husband looking out of the window, headphones in, music on and daydreaming. Your friend reading the newest book from her favourite author. How you wish you had someone to share a seat with... to share a life with. You wouldn't have a stranger next to you. You'd have a partner. You could cuddle and mind your own business at the same time... or play a game? Would you get upset at them winning Uno? Or would you love them too much to get frustrated?

You let out a sigh. You've been single for so long... a partner was still written in the stars and wouldn't come by anytime soon. So you'd have to deal with strangers next to you on the train, the couch for yourself and your family constantly badgering you when you'd move back and find a partner. It's not like you planned being almost thirty and still single. As a child you dreamed about being married with children at this age. Maybe having a little house and a dog. You wanted to be surrounded by friends, leave your family out of it as much as you could. Just enjoy life with your partner. But here you were, still alone. Maybe wallowing in self pity at a life that could have been would be a good way to pass time till you were back at your family's place.

You pull your suitcase after you. The walk from the train station wasn't too long and you know better than to ask anyone to pick you up. You don't want to inconvenience them or owe them. Last time you asked your mother and she made you wash all the dishes from the family party by hand after you played waitress during the entirety of it. You'd rather choose walking 30 minutes to the house than do that again.

As you come closer you spot your grandpa's car in the driveway. He must be here to oversee the preparations for his birthday party tomorrow. You briefly look down at yourself, jeans and t-shirt. It looks good enough but you already know you'd be criticised left and right. Never enough for them.

With a deep breath you ring the doorbell and wait. It's not too long before the door opens to reveal your mother. She takes in your appearance and sneers before she greets you. She steps to the side to let you in. "You visit your family that you never see and you show up dressed like some slob. You could wear something nice every now and then." She grumbles before she goes to the living room to announce that you're here. Well if you knew your grandpa would be here a day early you would have tried to wear something nicer. You leave your suitcase next to the door and follow her into the living room. You greet everyone and listen to your siblings' judgments until your grandpa stops them.

"Enough. Let's not ruin this joyful day for our family." He announces before he gets up and stands next to you. Joyful day? What happened? Did he finally win the lottery? You look at him confused.

"You all need to learn to not criticise her so much anymore. After all it would be a bad image to her fiancé and the press." Everyone nods along as if what he said did make any sense. Even your father who usually only shows interest for the drink in front of him, nods along. Has he got dementia since the last time you visited? "What?" Is all you can bring out at which your mother scoffs.

"Well dear... It took you a long time to find a partner, which in hindsight I'm very grateful about. You know our family has a long history and its history and glory shall be restored soon enough.” Your grandpa declares like it's some victory. “Many hundred years ago our ancestors made a deal with the royal family of Brooken. The first heirs of opposite sex shall marry and unite our families. It just never worked out age wise until you came along. Born just two years after the now reigning King Steven Rogers." He explains and you're absolutely sure they all lost their damn minds. No royal family would make a deal with commoners, especially back then.

"Well I recently met the young man and reminded him of this deal. He's more than eager to fulfill it and marry you. He'll collect you and bring you to Brooken tomorrow." He squeezes your arm, a smile plastered on his face. You can't do anything but stare at him and then burst out in laughter. They were messing with you. Or playing along with your grandpa's dementia... But no one else was laughing. They all looked rather serious... And the house looked so clean... Was this not a joke?

"This... This has to be a joke...?" You say, looking at him with desperation. "Why would it be? You'll restore the Hasting family's glory and finally be of use to us.” your heart breaks a little more. Were you truly this worthless? Did nothing you did for them before count? You look up at them, desperate to find any sign that this wasn't true. That they were playing a prank. The stone faces of your parents and siblings look back at you. This... This wasn't a joke. They'd marry you off to some stranger. To a king? To gain what? What about your life? What about your place? Your job? You can't just leave that behind for some king who's probably a huge asshole... Your long fought for freedom taken by your family and that guy. Back under control, every move watched and criticised.

The rest of the day has been cruel. Your family was between joy at your engagement to a king and anger at you trying to refuse. In-between all the explaining, that really didn't give you any new information or any that would make sense of the situation, you texted your friend which promised to call you later.

“It's not all that bad… at least he's handsome!” Your friend tries to reason. “Plus you'd be a queen! No more shitty job that doesn't pay you enough. You'd live in a castle and wear pretty dresses.” She offers and is met with a heavy sigh.

“Yeah that's great but at what cost? My freedom. I really love my one bedroom apartment. You know why? Because it's mine. I can do what I want. And in his castle? I probably won't even be allowed to hang a picture on the wall. There'll be people watching my every move and reporting back to him. I'll be just as miserable as I used to be at my parents place.” The white of the ceiling starts to become blurry with the tears that are about to spill. “What if I can never see you again? What if he won't let me have any friends?” Your voice breaks at the thought.

“He doesn't look like he'd be such an asshole. He looks nice and the articles write nice things about him too.” She reasons. “Yeah and who has big influence on the press? Him. Of course they wouldn't write anything bad about him.” You complain. “They have written not so nice things about him. Especially with him grieving his mother…” that you do feel sorry for. They seemed to have a good relationship, losing a loving parent isn't easy. “Give him a chance. You never know maybe he's a prince charming.” Her voice sounds encouraging.

“What does a king even want with a commoner? Why would a king make a deal like that hundreds of years ago? I don't get it…” you question. “Who knows maybe your family had blackmail material on the royals.” At that you snort a bit. “Maybe… he seems eager to get married. My family is eager for this. Why am I the only one who thinks this is a bad idea?” Your hands pick on the scratchy blanket your mother put on the guest bed for you. “Because you're the one who loses a lot for this. Your family gains royalty… at least they'll be royal adjacent? I mean they do have the stick up their asses like royals already. And he gains a wife? Dating must be hard when you're a king.” She muses. “His last relationship was six years ago. His ex left him for another prince and got married like a year after.” You hum at the information she found. His whole life could be found on the internet which makes you wonder what he even knows about you? Your family didn't even know you so he couldn't even get something accurate from them.

“Listen, I gotta go… but give it a chance? And if he's an asshole and you need out, you text me and we'll come to break you out ok?” you sigh at your friends offer but ultimately agree. You'll try, it's not like you can leave the house and flee without your family noticing and coming for you anyways. You place your phone on the nightstand and cuddle up in bed. Your eyes fall on the monstrosity of dress your mother picked out for you. Maybe if you truly wore that pink pile of whatever the seamstress had left over, he'd run for the hills and you'd still be free.

"Sorry Steve... I can check a few more things but this is airtight... They can force you to marry that girl..." his lawyer says. Steve sighs and looks up from his desk to look at the brunette who meets him with a warm empathetic smile. Maria Hill, top of her class, badass in their softball team and brilliant lawyer. Steve recommended her to his mom when the old lawyer retired. Maria showed her wits and was hired within two hours of her interview.

"There's no way a deal from over a hundred years ago still holds up! You're telling me there was not a single occasion where this desk could have already been fulfilled? Aren't the Hastings fucking hornballs with so many family members? They're not even royal anymore! How does this hold up?" Bucky rants, clearly trying to protect his friend. Maria meets his eyes and lifts an eyebrow.

"Well if you want to go through the entire family trees and history to try and prove that be my guest. Matter of fact is that King Joseph and King George thought of everything in their agreement. Even the downfall of royalty... Or in this case the downfall of one royal family. This seems to be their way back. Making Steve marry the granddaughter so at least she is tuly royal." Maria says dryly. "I will check it over once more. I think we all should get as much rest as this night still offers but... don't get your hopes up Steve." She adds as she gets up and takes the contract that was in the envelope before. "What if we kill her. Can't marry someone that's dead" Bucky suggests and immediately gets a slap on the back of his head from Sam.

"As your lawyer I would advice against the murder of the future spouse of your best friend. You'd be one of the first suspects and I'm sorry to say this Barnes but your pokerface isn't as great as you'd like to think." Maria states before she looks at Steve. He's exhausted, his face in his hands, his hair ruffled. "Go to bed Steve." She says softly, worried about her friend.

Steve let's out a sigh and gets up. "Dismissed. Good night." Is all he can say before he drags himself out of his office and up the stairs. His mind is a flurry of thoughts that just won't shut up no matter how much he tries. He lets out a sigh as soon as he reaches the third floor. To the left is his room, to the right the room of his mother. His legs move on their own, carrying him to the portrait of her that's covered in a black veil. In the last month he often stood in front of it. He wished it good night before he'd get in bed. Just like he planned to do today.

"Night mom..." He whispers, the tears in his eyes returning once more. "This is all so hard without you… you would know what to do with this stupid deal… I wish you were here." his voice breaks at that. He gulps and tries to hold back his tears. He isn't in the safety of his own bedroom yet. But he isn't sure he's gonna make it till there. His eyes wander to his door, so far away, and back to the portrait. He gulps and moves towards her door. Her room is safe too. Even if it brings sad memories.

He softly closes the door behind him, his eyes falling onto her bed. He'd often sleep with her as a child. When he had nightmares, when he was upset about his father dying, when he was sick. Just one more time he tells himself and takes off his shoes. He can sleep in the sweatpants and shirt he put on earlier, he doesn't need a fancy pyjama set. Hesitantly he slips under the yellow covers. His nose immediately fills with her scent. Her favourite laundry detergent mixed with her perfume and he can't hold back the tears any longer. The dam breaks and he sobs into her pillow. After many minutes of crying he falls asleep enveloped by her one more time.

[delight-angelsbliss]

Can I get sonic, knuckles, or shadow trying to help reader dealing with an ed like annawrecksya or bullymia. Fan of either romantic or platonic <3

Precis: knuckles, sonic and shadow with a reader who has an ed (seperate) can be read as both platonic or romantic

Warnings: ED, anorexia, mentions of puking, hurt/comfort, Sonic feeling so guilty he starts to take mental hits, lowkey that happens with most of them but I won't spoiler

Notes: in the psychiatric hospital my roommate taught me unhealthy ways to lose weight like making yourself puke with a toothbrush or even puking up meds to not gain weight since usually in the hospital everyone gained weight and became a victim of this. Guys I swear I can write angst trust 🙏 also might of yapped a bit too much sry for the delay to the other requesters heh cuz I usually go from first to last request until the first one is finished!! Also yapped a bit too much with sonic heh I decided to only go with anorexia because that's what I know better but maybe I'll make one with bulimia if y'all want

Sonic (anorexia part)

Sonic is already pretty skinny (as everyone can see) , he's gotten many compliments and weird comments about it before. It never bothered him. He likes himself and how fit his body is, he doesn't see a reason why people would hate their body. That all changed when he met you, the moment he looked at you, he could tell something was off. You rarely ate and would always immediately go to the bathroom after, only coming back with somewhat shaking legs, your breath smelled like puke, and your eyes looked lifeless. It made him so sad knowing that's how you valued your health, purely based on how your body looks.

Sonic made sure to check that you've eaten your food, and stayed with you for the next few hours so you didn't have any way to puke it put, even if that didn't work most of the time. Sonic knew you could excessively exercise after, or even starve yourself for days if you so please. He knew there we're ways to prevent it, but damage was already done, Sonic tried talking to you, getting you to a hospital, therapy, ANYTHING to help you. Yet for some reason he never truly saw the happy image of you he used to have. You'd drink water and put on more layers when getting your weight taken, openly reassuring him everything is fine and twisting his words to make it seem like he's overreacting. He knew this was a hard thing to avoid, he couldn't just avoid his precious loved ones treating themself so bad! It felt like he was hearing the world on his shoulders. His world; you.

Sonic slowly started withdrawing himself from his friends and other events, he started hanging out more with you to make sure you were eating properly. Sonic would sometimes withdraw or act off when going on a mission and this is basically like a mission to rescue you! That was always his excuse when he spent countless nights thinking of you and going back to friends, he felt so guilty leaving you all alone to fend anorexia alone. He wasn't going to let you live like this, that's a promise. Sonic felt tired after weeks and weeks of getting his concerns dismissed; "she gained 2 kg when we checked last week! She might need to cut, haha" "didn't you see how bloated she was? That's because she's eating more food" he knew those were lies, water can easily pass and help weight loss while making most bloated from lots of water, he knew you could put on socks and extra layers to 'gain more' when getting weighed. Sonic started hiding your pills like fat Blocker to help you gain more weight, instead he replaces them with iron pills

He started seeing real differences, so did you. You knew you would blow your cover if you said anything, sonic knew that too, he backed you into a corner (with kabedon 👅) so there wasn't anywhere to run, you wouldn't be able to outrun him anyway. He will always find a way to help you. He was determined, he won't give up! No matter what pills he has to replace, what methods he has to use to talk to you, he will help you!

Knuckles

With the mountain of version of knuckles it's hard to find common ground but I tried to go in the middle of them all

When knuckles first met you, he saw you as a happy and healthy person, but slowly. Something shifted, he noticed your weird behavior when going out to eat, how everything always in your home looked full; food expiring/never running out. He thought it was odd that foods, especially snacks, were always there. It worried him beyond comprehension. Knuckles is already pretty muscular and happy with his body so why can't you be? It worries him that you have to deal with these kind of thoughts

Knuckles trying to talk with you, wanting to get you to eat more. It had some lasting effects for a week... Or maybe not-? He would hear you making yourself puke each time after eating, it made him sick, sad, betrayed. It all felt like a roller coaster of emotions that he couldn't escape, he tried distancing yourself. It's better for me! Is what he thought to himself, but he realized; he's hurting you more if he just leaves you to deal with it all, the guilt ate him. So he started subtly pushing back into your life.

When he did push back inside, he noticed how broken you seen. You haven't been taking care of yourself, you've dropped many kilos, your body looked so broken and he could tell you felt the exact same way. Knuckles knew this was not healthy, he felt every bone in his body go limp, he couldn't break down now and he knew it! He had to help you! It was just a time race at this point to get you to be healthy again, a healthy weight, healthy diet, and knuckles wasn't going to give up

Shadow

We all know Shadow is a loner, he hasn't met many people in general so seeing an anorexic one was surprising and concerning to him. Under the presumption you two already built a relationship (platonic or Romantic doesn't matter) Shadow knew what he was signing up for when being friends with you, he knew you could starve yourself to death any second, the thought made shivers run down his spine every single time. He didn't want to lose another. He won't let you die. In my head, I'd see Shadow be extremely difficult, protective, overbearing, and much more! He won't let you have privacy because he wants to ensure your safety, no matter how much you communicate with him, it won't help his thoughts ease up

Shadow isn't gonna get crushed that easy, he isn't a communicator and he certainly won't try in this scenario... Until he realizes just how uncomfortable you are, you won't shower, dress, eat or anything really when he's near, he slowly realizes just how uncomfortable he makes you. That's when he truly eases up, going to sonic and the gang for help to find ways to correctly help his loved one! That's when he gives you more privacy, trying to communicate (surprisingly) making sure you have a nice filling meal prepared and more stuff that should help promote eating

I know this is probably annoying, but he bans you watching movies or series that have even a glimpse of an ED. He doesn't want you seeing it on TV or anywhere else, no insecurities, no movies that make fun of insecure people! He might loosen up sometimes when he sees you watching it without any problems, but otherwise. You're always going to be in good care with him

[ripinejschu]

Chained Cheater, Chastised - KY10

pairing: kenan yildiz x reader

synopsis: the day before the Turkiye's quarterfinal match in the Euros, Kenan gets involved in a cheating scandal he swears never happened, but reader doesn't want to hear him out and causes Kenan to lose focus. But is he really telling the truth? Pictures don't lie...

wc: 4.2k

cw: tears, cheating allegations, silent treatment

an: first fic on this account!! it feels like it's been forever since I last posted on here; this was written in july btw!! i love writing for kenan

Kenan’s hands shake as he sees the horrifying images on his phone. Weston had sent him a few posts and links about an alleged cheating scandal regarding Kenan, but he had firmly denied it.

Until Weston sent the doctored photos of him all cozied up with some blonde chick, face smirking at the prize he’d gotten for that night. The ones he looks at now, damning and all too natural looking.

Shit, shit, shit–shit runs through his mind.

Who could have done this? Some jealous bitch of course, bitter over his relationship with his beloved girlfriend, who would no doubt see this and feel her heart break.

Somehow, the German media had found out and already written a couple of articles, with the pictures and gossip accounts credited. Not very viable, but once this spreads no one would care beyond what seems so obvious. The photos are right there, picture perfect, but Kenan’s words will never make the public believe the truth, not with these.

He feels trapped. Should he call Weston, plead his case? It would be practice for others, but he knows it’s a futile attempt. Should he call his girlfriend, let her know the rumours and photos aren’t true? By now, they are circulating even on TikTok as he looks at the links, afraid to open them up and see the comment sections.

He’s already going through enough because of everyone’s harsh criticisms of his performances in the Euros lately; he doesn’t need to see what else people are saying.

Career-ruining. That’s what this is. Kenan is already aware of the Italian influence of cheaters, especially with the rumours whispered in the Juventus locker rooms about the Italian beauty Calafiori being a serial cheater  –which Fede had wanted no part of– and now…now it gave the Turkish critics new material to hate on his foreign influence. Already too German, accent thick in his broken Turkish, and now living a lifestyle like the Italians? He doesn’t want to think about it.

Except, the alternative is even worse. What would you say? Sweet and fierce, you’d stood by him when he struggled in games, when he cried in your arms because he never seemed Turkish enough, constantly stumbling over his words and syllables.

But now…shit. He needs to call you immediately and try to clear the air with you before you can see any part of this brewing storm of lies. His hands shake as he finds your contact in his Favourites folder, hesitating before he presses down on your name. Your smiling face lights up his screen, a photo of you hugging Ramos, whose tongue lolled happily.

The phone rings, and rings, and rings, before it goes to voicemail. No worries, right? Maybe you’re in the bathroom or you have your phone on silent. He waits a minute, staring at the screen before trying again.

It immediately goes to voicemail. Oh no.

Kenan knows you know, but you need to hear his defense straight from him. He texts you, mumbling a prayer that the text will go through and you’ll answer before you decide to block him.

He types, and erases the words. Types again, and erases the words again. Nothing seems good enough; it all sounds like a pathetic plea of a man caught red-handed, but you need to hear it.

He settles on the following: “Y/N listen to me please. There are a couple of photos on the internet of me and a blonde girl cuddling, but I promise wallahi it’s not real. I’ve never looked at any other girl with desire during our whole relationship I swear. This is fake, please believe me. Call me when you can, so we can figure this out together. Please.”

It’s not the best but still, it will do. His hands begin to shake again as he presses send, waiting, waiting…

Delivered. You hadn’t blocked him. You’re not even on Do Not Disturb, so you did get the notification. Kenan puts his phone on Personal to block every notification but yours and waits for you to respond, but as the minutes tick by and he begins to pace, phone silent in his pocket, he doesn't hear the sound of a text come through.

Until now. He whips out his phone only to see a barrage of texts in Personal, with Arda’s pushed through, hence the text sound. Dusan, Weston, Timothy. But not you.

He reads through the messages, confusion and anger mixing together. Arda is asking what is going on, Dusan is demanding if it’s true and why he would do such a thing, his texts growing angrier at Kenan’s stupidity, Timothy’s calling him a “fucking idiot” and Weston is wondering why Kenan isn’t responding to his texts and can he please let him know what’s going on.

Hakan’s text comes in at the top: “Call me IMMEDIATELY” is written on the notification, and Kenan gulps. Part of him wants to ignore him, partially in case you call him, but with his career on the line at such a young age, he knows he needs to talk to his captain, especially with tomorrow’s quarterfinal match looming over him.

He again goes to the phone app, looking longingly at yours that still has no response, and calls Hakan.

He picks up on the first ring.

“Kenan, what the fuck is going on? Please tell you you’re not so stupid as to get involved in a  scandal? And now, with our reputation on the line, yours especially?” Kenan winces, but Hakan continues. “You know there’s a game tomorrow, right? We have to focus on the wondrous Holland, not this relationship drama, a whole scandal, Kenan. What were you thinking?”

Kenan gulps again as he feels tears begin to sting his eyes. He needs Hakan to believe him, but he struggles to get his words out.

“Hakan, I promise it’s not what you think. They’re n-not real, I would n-never do that. P-please, you have to believe me!”

Kenan doesn’t realize he’s crying until Hakan’s tone softens, comforting the young man. “Kenanım, it’s okay, we’ll get through this. You’re a young man, we can easily work this out. Don’t cry. You’ll be okay, I promise.”

Kenan lets out a loud sob, unable to keep quiet anymore. He should feel humiliated, crying on the phone with his mature, older captain, but he can’t keep it in anymore.

You ignoring his calls and messages, the anger from his teammates, his career threatening to fall apart, it’s too much for the teen. He collapses on the floor of his hotel room sobbing, phone falling from his hand as he cries his eyes out.

At some point, he feels two warm bodies encapsulate him from both sides, arms wrapping around his crumpled form, and he cries into someone’s chest with their heart beating steadily.

“Sh-she’s not answering me. I t-tried telling her i-it’s not real b-but she won’t a-answer m-me,” he cries between sobs, unsure of what language he’s speaking because either way, it comes out broken.

He feels an arm rubbing his back, a voice soothingly shushing him, and an embrace holding him as his tears finally subside enough not to blind him. He cautiously lifts his head to look up into Hakan’s eyes.

His captain rocks him slightly as he looks down at the boy’s tear-stricken face before tucking a stray lock of hair behind Kenan’s ear. He lets out another sob, remembering how you would do the same, amusement sparking up your eyes as he would giggle like a princess.

“I’ve got you, Kenan. I told you it’ll be okay and we’ll work this out, I mean it.” Kenan takes a moment to catch his breath, before trying to sit up a little more, back against the wall.

He startles when he sees Kerem sitting on the floor in front of him and Bariş sitting on the bed, and when he turns his head he sees Arda hugging him from behind.

He carefully reaches up and holds his hand, and Arda squeezes it in response. Kenan takes a deep breath, looking back at Hakan. “Weston told me a-about this. He sent those photos of me and that girl but it’s not real I swear. I don't even go to clubs or drink or anything, I’m Muslim for god sake!”

He feels Arda rest his head on his upper back and continues. “I tried telling y/n they aren’t real, th-that someone must’ve faked them but she isn’t answering me. I tried c-calling her but she didn't pick up my calls. I don't know what else to do.”

Arda glances at the men across the room before looking pointedly at Kerem’s phone, who nods in acknowledgement. “We’ll try to help, okay Kenan? Try to focus on tomorrow’s match in training tonight, we need you and you’ll also feel better.”

Arda wishes Kenan’s best friend Can Uzun is here to comfort Kenan and figure out what to do,  but he decides to try and take action as Kenan’s elder. They all know this is going to mess with Kenan’s head so bad it could cost them the match tomorrow, where he would be looking for you in the stands instead of at the ball.

Hakan takes Kenan early to training to let himself get more comfortable without so many eyes on him at once. Kenan is grateful for this as he doesn’t want to face everyone who must think he’s some disgusting playboy or some saboteur against the team.

He keeps his head down when the others join in, immersing himself in field drills and partnerwork with Arda, who he’s incredibly grateful for. The older boy doesn’t judge, and his quietness is a slight comfort in the raging mess of his head.

Arda and a few other teammates had tried reaching out to you on Kenan’s behalf, but their efforts were in vain. Kenan tries to be grateful for this, but it only breaks his heart more despite the small sense of family in the team he still struggles to fit in to.

❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀

You look at the dozen or so texts from Kenan’s teammates, trying to persuade you to just call Kenan and sort everything out. It takes everything in you not to hurl your phone at the wall and scream curses upon Kenan’s name.

How dare he do this to you, go out to some dirty club and get cozy with some homewrecking blonde bitch? The look on her face, oh, she knew what she was doing with this taken man, and the taken man, Kenan, oh!

Oh, the things you wanted to scream at him, to hurl at his stupid face with that infuriating smirk he always wore, including the damned photos.

Lord, may he be damned forever. Curse his hands and more importantly, his feet.

The second you had seen those photos, sent by your friend in the form of a post on one of those football gossip accounts, your phone had fallen out of your hand, too shocked to react. Thankfully, the hotel carpet had saved it from cracking, which might have been the final nail in this terrible day.

You had not known what to do for a few minutes, only staring down at the photo looking up at you before your emotions kicked in and you screamed, sinking onto the floor as tears streamed down your face.

Kenan, who is supposed to be your Kenan, isn’t truly in love with you. Sure, he whispers promises and kisses and everything to make you fall for him so blisteringly, but it seemed like all those kisses had now left painful blisters everywhere, and you needed to escape your own skin.

You weren’t sure how long you’d stayed there until then your phone rang, snapping you out of your bubble of tears. You’d seen Kenan’s bright smile flashing across the screen, and had let it ring to voicemail. His name had flashed again and this time you’d immediately declined the call.

It felt like you couldn’t breathe as finally, a text came through, pleading his innocence and begging for you to call him. You’d ignored it.

Instead, you had called your friend who was also staying in Germany for the Euros, albeit to support Spain, and prayed she would pick up. She did, immediately asking you what was going on, and later she’d told you you’d simply screamed into the phone before breaking down in sobs, and she’d understood immediately.

She had picked you up from your hotel, knocking incessantly at your door trying to prove it wasn’t Kenan until you’d opened it, and she had immediately got to work. She’d dried your tears, helped you wash your face before applying some moisturizer and light eyeliner to look somewhat put-together, and brewed you some tea, not Turkish of course.

Then she’d taken you out to a cafe nearby, making you leave your phone behind at the hotel to give yourself some space between you and the vicious Internet. She’d bought matcha lattes and pastries for the two of you, telling you not to worry about paying her back.

After a walk in the warm, fresh air of the late afternoon, sipping on matcha and her trash-talking Kenan, you’d both returned to the hotel, spirits lifted just a little, now sitting on the bed looking at the several missed calls and texts from Kenan’s teammates.

They’re full of pleading, telling you the photos aren't real and someone incredibly jealous of your relationship must have photoshopped them and spread them around, and that Kenan needs you. Kerem, however, made the mistake of saying that Kenan’s distractions would be a liability in tomorrow’s vital game, but you cannot have cared less.

Arda’s texts, however, are very sweet, and honestly almost convince you to reach out to Kenan. Arda knows how much you and Kenan mean to each other, and that you two should try talking to each other, even it nothing good comes out fo it because how much worse can it get? A change made would mean reconciling…or breaking up with him.

Your friend scoffs, however. “It’s their job to defend their teammate, do you really think they’re being genuine? I’m all for talking it out with Kenan but hello, pictures don’t lie.”

She’s right, you’d scrutinized every part of the photo and it looked so, so real. There were no weird edges or miscolouration, and the expressions…

You grab the remote and turn on the TV, flicking through channels. Most are in German, except for some boat show in Italian.

You settle on a German version of HGTV, watching the people struggle to find a home within their budget, and take a cold slice of pizza.

A few episodes in, you turn to your friend. “I’ve thought about it, and I’ve made my decision. I’m not going to the game tomorrow. I don’t care how much it ‘affects Kenan’s mind’”–you put this in air quotes–“but he should’ve thought about affecting my own mind before he did that.”

The snarl surprised the both of you, but you don't regret the viciousness of your implication.

You don’t care if Kenan will have a bad game or if that meant Türkiye would lose tomorrow, he should’ve cared about you as much as you cared about him.

Your friend bites her lip, looking a little cautious. “I…I think you should talk to him and see what he has to say. Clearly, that text didn’t say everything. There’s a reason you love him–”

“Loved him,” you interrupt. “Stop it, I already told you I’m not interested. If he wants to be a playboy, fine, I’m not going to stop him.”

Your friend nods quietly, turning back to the TV and finishing the pizza before you both call it a night and she heads out.

❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ �� ❀ ❀ ❀

You wake up early for the hotel breakfast, not wanting to miss out on a free meal due to your depression.

After a quick German breakfast of fresh fruits, a salmon and cream cheese bagel, bread rolls and a boiled egg, you head back to your room to figure out what to do for the day.

Of course, your initial plan was to attend the Türkiye football match, but that was not happening anymore.

After deciding on an enticing art museum, you get ready, picking out a cute outfit and applying your makeup with some matching eyeshadow.

Then you realize, you didn’t check your notifications after being on DND all night. You open it up to see dozens more texts and missed calls from Kenan, his teammates, your friends and even your own parents, all asking where you are and what is going on and can you please just talk to Kenan? His texts are the worst, growing even more desperate and begging for just one chance at a conversation.

You ignore everyone, assuming they’ll understand why you’re blowing them off. You focus back at the main task at hand, preparing for the day.

You pick up your purse, not having used it for the past couple of days and rummage through it to find a certain lip oil.

That is, until the sound of metal clinks loudly, louder than it should. You think it’s the bag chain but it shouldn’t have been that loud, so you dump your purse onto your bed and–

–what is that…another chain? You pick up the silver chain and realize whose it is. You had practically torn it off Kenan in a heated make-out session a few days ago and had forgotten to return it to him afterwards.

The sweet memory and physical item fills you with a sudden rage and you almost hurl it at the window until–wait a second.

Wait. A. Second.

You're hit with a strange sensation as if there’s something important you need to figure out. The chain…Kenan didn’t bring another chain to Berlin, just the one he usually wears. You were there when he’d packed his things, and he’d wanted to keep it minimal so he wouldn’t lose things, not when his mind was completely elsewhere.

But the chain…you have his only chain. And something about it doesn’t make sense.

Pushing your fear aside, you quickly find the damned photos. It’s like the picture is playing a game with you. You zoom in to Kenan’s chest–any other time you’d blush and hope he wasn’t in the room watching you blush– when you see it. A little sparkle of light reflected off a silver chain.

Just enough of the chain is exposed through his unbuttoned shirt to compare it. You hold the one in your hand up to the phone, really looking and…yes! They are the same!

There is one more thing, however, the timeline. Could this photo have been taken before you ripped Kenan’s chain off?

It isn’t hard to establish it. The girl’s phone screen was lit up to 12:13 am, and above it, you could barely make the words out: Thursday, July 4.

This was “taken” after your make-out session. Unless Kenan magically grew an identical chain, the Kenan in the photo could not have been him.

The relief hits you like a crowd surging towards the fields after a Juventus win, almost drowning you of air and senses and yet you stay on your feet, breathing hard.

Oh god. Kenan really was trying to tell you the truth, that he hadn’t cheated on you at all. You look at the clock on the bedside table; you have enough time.

You change into your Türkiye jersey, making sure the “YILDIZ” is visible on the back, before changing your eyeshadow and heading out.

With the chain of course.

❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀

An utter horror. You still hadn’t uttered a word of response to Kenan, who is freaking out still. He’d slept horrifically, only catching a few hours when Hakan came at Arda’s insistence to force-feed him some melatonin pills, and the lack of sleep is now quite visible on Kenan’s face.

Eyebags dark, cheekbones bare, Kenan looks like a complete mess. Hakan had tried calming him down, along with Arda and a few others, but nothing was getting through to Kenan.

Even now, Arda tries to get his attention on the field in the pre-match training by throwing a football at Kenan’s head, but it just bounces off him with no reaction.

Shit.

Before long, kickoff is about to start and everyone’s heart beat nervously. Would they be able to hold off the Netherlands?

Would Kenan be able to focus?

Kenan keeps glancing at the stands, trying to find you in the crowds, but he can’t.

The little hope he had left fizzles out, and suddenly he feels so very dead inside. Too much to focus on the ball, which flies past him when he should’ve intercepted it.

The game begins great for Türkiye, with the leading goal giving them hope, but Kenan’s performance sticks out like a sore thumb. He winces when they go inside and gets a few glares from his teammates, but Arda sticks with him as he tries to make himself look small in the corner as Montella gives them an update on their game plan.

When he heads back out, embracing a few teammates, something catches his eye. It’s a flash of pink, standing out from the crowd of red.

There is no way.

You’re in the stands, a few rows from the front, wearing his jersey over a pink blouse. He stops in his tracks in shock as he sees you after such a long bout of silence.

Kenan thought you hated him, yet here you are in full support of him and his country. Arda comes up next to him in confusion until he catches the bright pink sticking out.

“I don’t think she’s here for anyone else. You want to make it up to her by playing well?” Kenan looks at him in amusement, a sparkle returning to his eyes.

Kenan’s performance improves almost immediately. He’s more active on the ball, creating better chances, intercepting passes, and overall impacting the Turkish side for the better.

It isn’t enough though, when his shot is easily saved by the Dutch goalkeeper and the game ends in a 1-2 loss.

Tired, sweaty, and heartbroken, the Turkish dream of success comes crashing down around them. The Red Sea of fans watch in silent disappointment, as the players droop down, disappointed in their performance, knowing they could’ve done better.

Yet, the pride of going this far, behind their fans a shared sense of culture and joy prevails, which will soon be evident after the immediate post-match depression.

And for Kenan, well, he turns towards the shining source of hope he’d been praying would show up.

You look at him as he gazes up at you from the bench area, exhausted, disappointed and yet, relieved. Relieved that you came to his match, despite the silent treatment.

And you’re there for him when he comes out of the locker rooms and immediately wraps his arms around you. He hesitates at the very last moment but you surge forward, squeezing him tight and he squeezes even harder, afraid to let you go.

After what seems like forever, you tilt your head up to make eye contact with Kenan. “I wasn’t going to come, you know. I was so mad at you. I thought after all this time, you’d decided to just throw it all away.”

Kenan looks at you with worry, but you continue. “But there’s a reason I came. I decided to go out today and obviously, I wanted to dress up. You know I love putting on my lip oils.”

You reach into your purse and pull out Kenan’s chain, and he startles. “I found this in my purse. That’s when I kind of realized something, but I had to double-check. Kenan, you were wearing this in those photos. But that’s impossible because I have it. Baby, I know they’re fake and I know it’s not your fault.”

Kenan doesn’t mean to cry. He stares at you first, trying to comprehend your words, until he feels you wipe away the tears that started falling. He pulls you close and buries his face in the crook of your neck as he sobs, and you hold him, rubbing his back steadily.

“I-I’m so sorry, I didn’t want to happen, you d-didn’t deserve this,” he manages between sobs, and you shush him quietly. “I know baby, I know. I believe you, I should’ve talked to you sooner. I should’ve believed you. I can still trust you, right?” You feel him nod, “Yeah, please.”

You two stand there a little longer before Kenan lifts his head and smiles, relief flooding every crevice of his face at having you and your trust back. You return it before he takes your hand and leads you out into the setting sun, the rays of daylight washing over you like a golden love.

dividers by: @cafekitsune

[zepskies]

@lamentationsofalonelypotato

Omg, hey friend! I'm so excited to see what you thought of all the angsty dancing!! loll 😜

First I want to say that I am here for the reader rifling through Michael's drawers, YES girl, channel Daphne for Dean!! But I really love this little bit here because of the way you described Michael's gaze on her. Yes, we hate Michael... but goodness it was such a wonderful poetic line and all I want is that 😭

Hahaaa I love that comparison! And yeah, believe it or not but there was a time when Michael wasn't a total dick. (And even now, he thinks he loves his wife.) How he looks at her is how I wish my future husband would look at me. *dreamy sigh*

It's so good because my mind immediately shot to the idea that Dean is already subconsciously comparing the women/girls he's going out with to the reader. And on the inside I was doing this:

lol YES, thank you for catching that! Dean's having his fun, but subconsciously he knows there's something missing there -- that intellectual connection between equals, or at least someone who can hold a real conversation with you.

The boys running into the reader at the club was so wonderful, and there's really something beautiful about the way you build the scene with the dancing, the drinking, the people playing cards, and the description of the outfit the reader wore is stunning! I love the dark lipstick, dress, hat combo that shields her face is just everything I want- but above all, I really loved the banter you had between the reader and Dean. The give and take with the dialogue is beautiful. This piece especially, because I literally needed to take a moment after reading it and the way Dean looked at the reader. 👀

Oh my goodness thank you! I really concentrated on creating that ambiance inside the club, trying to make it feel visceral and true to the era. 💖 And you know I love me some witty banter/sexual tension loll. 😏 That moment in particular was fun, because Dean doesn't know that she knows he's been running around all over town with all these women, but she's attracted to him anyway, just like he's attracted to her. ❤️‍🔥

Oh my word IT'S HAPPENING!!! The tension! 😱 Also, I'm a complete sucker for a dance scene. I've written them a few times, and there's something so magical and intimate about them. You wrote this one between Dean and the reader so beautifully, because you made it filled with attraction, but you also made it a little melancholy when the reader is remembering a part of her life when she was happy in her marriage. The almost kiss is KILLING me lol

Girl me TOO. You're so right -- there's something "magical and intimate" about a dancing scene, especially in the '40s. Everything just feels so romantic in this era, in both senses of the word. There's a couple different layers of subtext going on here, but honestly the almost kiss was hard to keep "almost." 😂😂

Alright, it's official Alex my soul has left my body. It's been nice knowing you 🤣 I knew this would happen someday when I read one of your fics lol

LOLL I take that as a giant compliment, my friend!! 🤭 Though I apologize for the vacancy of your soul. 🩵

Ohhh my word this chapter was so good! The historical fiction vibes are just so impeccable, and the entire scene with the reader and Dean in the club is going to live rent free in my head the rest of the year! Cannot wait to revive and read the next chapter lol!! 💗

Honestly I so appreciate you for saying that because it's my first time writing a '40s AU, as you know, and I've tried my best to make it feel like the setting. The club scene's probably been one of my favorites to write for this little series! I so hope you enjoy the next chapter!! 💖💗💖

BETWEEN THE CITY & THE STARS - Part 2

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: In the fall of 1945, Dean is having a difficult time assimilating back into civilian life after the War. He’s visiting his brother Sam in New York City, where he’s beginning to build up his law firm. At two minutes to closing time, you interrupt their evening to solicit a solicitor. Your request? You need help in order to divorce your husband.

AN: Before we tune back into some 1940s drama, I just wanted to thank you all so much for your wonderful responses on Part 1 of this series. 🥹 It’s my first time doing a story like this, so I’m very happy you liked the jumpstart here. 💖💖

Prompt for @jacklesversebingo: Historical Epic

Song Inspo: ��I’ve Got You Under My Skin” by Frank Sinatra

Word Count: 3.7K

Tags/Warnings: Angst, hints of PTSD, flirting, dancing…

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Part 2: Devil May Care

After you got home from work the very next day, your apartment was entirely empty.

Predictable. Michael was still out.

This time, you counted it as a blessing. You rifled through every corner, cabinet, pocket, and drawer in search of evidence—anything you could use to prove, without even one shade of a doubt, that your husband was the unfaithful scoundrel you knew him to be. You knew it, deep in your gut. In your very soul.

You even rifled through Michael’s desk in his office, through every single folder, drawer, and booklet. You’d never done such a thing before because he was a particular man about his things, and you respected his privacy. 

That was done now. In your search, you found a useless ball of rubber bands and old coupons. You took his father’s old collection of fountain pens, which you knew Michael was precious about, and threw them haphazardly onto the desk to make room for your seeking hands through the rest of the drawers.

You even came across a small, crumpled photograph from your wedding day. This one made you pause.

You considered the picture, its bent corners and slightly grainy black and white lens. You’d worn your mother’s wedding dress, and you stared up at your new husband with the rosiest of smiles. He stared into your eyes then the way he always used to—like a man ready and willing to drown in them.

You sighed and let the picture fall from between your fingertips. It swayed onto the desk’s mahogany wood surface, and rested there. You shook your head and returned your attention to your task at hand, holding your hands to your hips.

The problem was, you didn’t see anything incriminating here…until an idea finally occurred to you. You went into Michael’s closet. You sorted through the suit jackets he still needed to get drycleaned and pressed again.

In one of the pockets, you found a receipt. 

You brought it to Sam Winchester’s office the following morning before work, along with some documents of your household expenses. Like you did the afternoon before, he identified the receipt as one for the Cotton Club, a nightclub in the Upper East Side. You had never been there in your life, but you heard it was one of the new go-to spots in town. It was the kind of place you used to wish Michael would take you to, once in a while.

“It could be a lead or it could be nothing, but I’ll check it out, along with these,” Sam said. He gathered the financial documents you gave him as well. 

“Okay. Thank you, Mr. Winchester,” you nodded.

“You can call me Sam if you like,” he said, kind, but still professional. You smiled. Unbidden, it reminded you of his brother.

“Please,” you said, your eyes briefly closing. “Just…call me by my name. My first name.” 

Dean slowly smiled. “Perfect. I like your name better anyway.” 

This time, your smile in return was genuine, if tinged with amusement. 

“Goodnight, Dean,” you replied.

Biting the inside of your lip, you gave into the urge to ask the question.

“It was nice of your brother to walk me home last night…what is he up to today then?”

“Ah, well, he’s out to lunch with a young lady he met last night,” Sam replied, with a somewhat wry, but still amused tone to his voice. You frowned.

“Last night? Does your brother meet a lot of women after 9:00 p.m.?” 

Sam chuckled. “He’s not usually wanting for company.”

“I see,” you said flatly. You should have known. The devil-may-care grin on that man was too charming to be anything less than the mark of a shameless flirt. Maybe even a scoundrel. Lord knew you couldn’t take any chances either way.

Dean returned from his day out with Vanessa. She was a nice enough girl, a knockout blonde too. She was smart, studying to be a schoolteacher. But she also tended to twitter on about frivolous things, so much that he couldn’t really remember much of what she said. She did look good doing it though. Not to mention, she let him feel her up while they kissed in one of the alleys, between the ice cream parlor and a drycleaners.

He predictably found his brother whittling away life in his office. Dean dropped his coat and hat on the hanger with a flourish. Sam raised his head from his work with an amused smile.

“Had a good day, did you?” he remarked.

“I can’t complain,” Dean agreed. “Especially when a beautiful woman’s involved.”

Sam shook his head. Before September, he hadn’t seen Dean in three years. Yet some things just didn’t change.

“You gonna see her again?” Sam asked.

Dean made a noncommittal sound. “We’ll see. The day is young, brother.”

Sam raised a finger. “Speaking of which. Mrs. Milligan came by this morning. I’ve been looking through her husband’s finances.”

“Oh really?” Dean sobered as he approached his brother’s desk. “What’d you find?”

“Overall, things seemed to be in order, until I noticed something strange,” Sam said. Dean lowered into the chairs opposite his brother at his desk, and they went over it all together. Sam appreciated another set of eyes on this, with the understanding that Dean would keep the information to himself. 

Starting roughly eleven months ago, there was a check signed to a Mr. Johnson for a moderate sum. Three weeks later, another check, this time a bit larger. For the past few months, Michael Milligan had been making these payments at least once a month, sometimes as much as three, albeit in different amounts.

“He might just have a gambling problem,” Sam said. He rubbed his chin in contemplation.

“Or it could be what she’s worried about,” Dean pointed out. “The name could be an alias. Maybe Mike’s paying for someone’s services…or paying her bills, if you catch my drift.”

Sam slowly nodded. “That’s a possibility.” He checked the dates on the documents again and shook his head. “Mrs. Milligan told me they got married about a year ago, here in the city. It would mean this guy started stepping out on her a month after the wedding.” 

Dean both could and couldn’t believe it. He might not have been a saint himself when it came to the fairer sex, but if he went through the whole ordeal of marrying one, let alone a straight-shooting woman like you, beautiful, clever…

“Geez,” he muttered. “He could’ve at least waited until the ink dried on the certificate.” 

Sam nodded in agreement. He picked up the receipt to the Cotton Club, and he shot his brother a grin.

“Wanna go to the club tonight?”

A wall of sound. That was the Cotton Club—the band on stage playing jazz tunes, loudly, if skillfully; the clanking of glasses as drinks rolled past; the clamor of heels and leather shoes as couples swung on the dance floor; and the added layer of people raising their voices to compensate. The room was filled with the smell of cigarette smoke, fighting against perfume and cologne and musk and sweat.

It was a bit overwhelming for Dean at first. He tried to ease himself into the scene with Sam at his side, even if he did jolt at the cork of a champagne bottle popping open. Sam noticed, but he mercifully didn’t say anything. He thumped a hand on Dean’s back to steady him under the pretense of a brotherly pat, adding a smile for good measure.

Sam was there to keep a lookout for Michael Milligan. Dean would help, but it wasn’t like he was being paid for it. He was largely aiming to have some fun while his brother was all serious, focused on the work. Dean was here for the community nightlife. 

The beautiful, beautiful community. As a matter of fact, there were lovely ladies everywhere. One sultry blonde was singing an upbeat, jazzy tune at the mic. Dolores Daye, said the banner above the stage.

Dean’s attention shifted from the stage to the scattered round tables outside the dance floor, as well as the chair lined up at the bar. His gaze caught on someone familiar—on you, sat at a table by yourself. His eyes widened. He slowed to a stop while Sam went on ahead.

You were stunning, almost unrecognizable in a shimmering black dress that hugged every lush part of your figure, with sleeves that draped off your shoulders. His eyes drew down your crossed legs, the sheer pantyhose, leading to a pair of tall, shining black heels.   

You wore a hat and partial veil that covered half your face, but he knew it was you. Those lips of yours were familiar on sight. Now they were painted red, dark and luscious.

“Dean?” Sam questioned him. He’d turned back when he realized his brother wasn’t keeping up with him. Dean subtly pointed you out. Sam raised his brows, but then he noticed what you were doing. You had a glass of wine in hand, and you seemed to be watching someone.

Every now and then your gaze would travel across the room, where your husband Michael was sat at a table filled with other men and women. They were laughing, drinking, playing cards. 

Sam and Dean shared a conspiring look, one that said they had the same thought. They went over to you. 

Sensing you were being approached, you looked over and found the pair of tall, familiar men with a widening of your eyes. That pretty mouth of yours fell open in surprise. 

“What’re you doing here?” you whisper-hissed. You beckoned them to sit down so they weren’t standing out so much while talking to you. Both Winchester men were broad-shouldered and tall as oaks.

“The same thing you’re doing, apparently,” Sam said, once he and Dean were sitting across from you at the table. He showed you the camera he had hidden in his coat pocket. “I’m going to see if I can get a read on what your husband’s up to, maybe collect some evidence.”

You let out a rush of breath. “Good, thank you.”

“Until then, maybe you’d be more comfortable at home,” he suggested.

Dean knew what his brother was getting at. This wasn’t the kind of place for a woman to be hanging around…unaccompanied. Not a respectable one like you, who clearly wasn’t used to being in a roaring nightclub. Plus, if Michael did slip up here, it wasn’t exactly going to be pleasant for you.

You still shook your head stubbornly. “No. I want to see it with my own eyes.”

Sam almost sighed, but Dean shot him a nod. Right then, they had an understanding. Dean would stay and look out for you while Sam tried to get closer to Michael. Sam left you and Dean together at the table thereafter, and Dean ordered a drink for himself. You sipped at your wine.

Dean glanced at you in appreciation. You really were beautiful…and not just tonight. Though he had to smile at your “disguise.”

“You think that getup is gonna fool your husband?” he remarked, gesturing at your form.

Your lips pursed, but you kept your head angled towards him, so that your hat and veil continued to hide your face from Michael’s direction.

“It has so far,” you retorted. “And this isn’t a getup.”

You smoothed slightly self-conscious hands down the skirt of your dress. Dean smiled. 

“All right, I’m sorry. Poor choice of words,” he said. He dropped his chin and raised his brows, earning your gaze under the hat. “It’s quite a dress, sweetheart.”

I’d like to see you out of it, he thought, even though he immediately stamped it down. You weren’t exactly available, no matter how delectable you were. The interesting part was, you didn’t seem to realize it as you fidgeted in your seat, a little self-consciously.

“Is that supposed to be a compliment?” you snipped.

His lips tugged at a smirk. He tilted your hat up a little so he could see more of your frowning face. 

“Want me to do better?” he teased. 

“I’d like you to leave me be. How about that?” you said, grabbing the edges of your hat and tilting it back down. “You’re distracting me.”

“Oh, I’m distracting?”

You met his gaze to give him a hot reply, but your words failed you. Just then, faced with his perfectly handsome, roguish face, you finally noticed how green his eyes were. Holding the gleaming reflection from the crystal chandelier above the bar, they briefly dragged over you again, like he was a starving man, and you were the very last morsel held in front of him.

It was indecent, you thought, but suddenly your mouth had gone dry.

“How about this,” Dean said. He finished off his whiskey and held out a hand to you. “Dance with me. You’ll have a better vantage point to spy on Mike over there.”

“Keep your voice down,” you shushed, glancing around.

Dean just smirked. He beckoned you again with a raise of his brows.

You hesitated, but you still eventually dropped your hand into his. He stood before you so he could help you to your feet. You allowed him to escort you over to the dance floor, and all the while you fought off your nerves. You were only doing this because he had a good idea; this would help you keep an eye on Michael without looking so out of place, a woman drinking alone at the table.

The band was playing a moderately paced song, which was good. You weren’t in this to be swept into the air.

“Relax,” Dean whispered, once he had you in his arms. His hands were respectably placed on your waist and in your hand. You knew you did have to relax though. Already you were too stiff while tentatively holding his hand, your other resting on his shoulder.

“I haven’t danced in—in a while,” you admitted. You were a little nervous as you began swaying with Dean, letting him lead you. He turned you about with ease, even twirling you under his hand.

“See? There’s nothing to it,” he said, welcoming you back into his arms. “When’s the last time you had some fun?”

You tilted your head as you thought about it. You and Dean shuffled about the dance floor in more complicated steps as the song increased in tempo. You were breathless in a good way. In a way that you couldn’t even remember needing to breathe as the golden lights sparkled in the corners of your eyes.

“He took me to a club like this once, about…I’d say month or so after we got married last year,” you admitted between spins. You had to hold a hand to your head to keep your hat on.

You were distracted enough by it all—the spinning, the laughter and tinkling glasses, the flashes of spotlight in between sultry dim shades, the heady smell of this man’s cologne, and his every touch, however brief on your body, but just as confident and measured. You actually told him the truth.

“I’ve been dying to get out more ever since, but…” you trailed as he spun you again, then winded you back into the growing familiarity of his arms.

Dean smoothly guided you even closer to him by your waist, until there was hardly any room between your chest and his, between your face and his. Your hand curled around the back of his neck on instinct, the edge of your nails just barely grazing through his hair. You wouldn’t know how it elicited a hot zing of sensation down his spine.

“Your husband really is blind, and even dumber than he looks,” Dean said, glancing down at your face. “I clocked you in five seconds flat, just by those pretty lips.”

You lowered your eyes, but not very far. They landed on his plush lips in contemplation. When your eyes met his again, Dean had a conundrum. He just didn’t think he cared all that much about the consequences.

His head began to bow towards yours, just when the song slowed to a stop. Almost without realizing it, he pressed his hand a little more insistently on the small of your back. You found yourself accepting that guiding pressure. Half-lidded eyes and heavy, mingled breaths in between…

“Let’s hear it again for Dolores Daye, everybody!” the host called out.

You snapped to attention and glanced over Dean’s shoulder at the singer. She waved goodbye to the crowd with a sensuous smile on her ruby red lips. Then she walked off stage in her glittering golden dress, and she grabbed hold of a man’s tie. That man was your husband.

Michael wore a wide smile on his face as she led him to his feet by his tie. He stood, his form looming over her, though she didn’t seem to mind��especially when his arm wrapped too familiarly around her waist.

It wasn’t the kind of embrace you would see between strangers, even for the sake of a good show for the crowd. Their faces became impossibly close, but it was just shy of a kiss as she laughed, a sound like fine crystal bells.

Dean noticed why you froze. He turned to look over his shoulder and his expression faded, becoming grim. He led you off the stage, and while keeping a discreet eye on the scene, he lingered at the bar in the center of the room. His arm stayed around your waist. He could tell himself it was to stay in character, but really, he just wanted to keep you grounded…that right now, you weren’t alone.  

Here by the bar, it was far enough that Michael likely wouldn’t notice you, but close enough that you both could hear what was happening.

The host stepped down from the stage and joined Dolores and Michael, laying a heavy hand on your husband’s shoulder. Yet another clue that Michael showed his face here all too frequently. The host waved over his entire table of friends, Sam included. He’d managed to get himself invited to sit with them.

“Come on. Join us out back,” said the host, gesturing behind the curtain.

“Where to?” Sam asked.

“For a card game or two, a little smoke, a nice little drink,” Michael said, grabbing Sam’s shoulder. “You in?”

Sam nodded. He glanced over and found Dean across the room with his eyes. They shared a brief, but telling look, after which Sam followed Michael and Dolores past the curtain discreetly. Meanwhile, you were already pulling away from Dean’s arm.

“I’m sorry. I’ve got to go,” you murmured.

You went back to the table to collect your purse. You left the rest of your wine there with a few bills on the table to cover it, and you were off, walking brusquely to the front doors. Dean followed suit, laying some money down for his own drink before he followed after you. The clerk at the front brought you your coat after you handed over your ticket, and Dean did the same.

“Hey, why don’t I take you home,” he said, having to raise his voice even here over the noise.

“No, thank you,” you said thickly.

After you had your coat on, you hastened to the closest bus stop outside the club. It was late, it was dark, and it was cold. You saw your fragile breath on the air as you stood there in your tall heels, and you held yourself for more than one reason as you fought off bitter tears.

You bit your lip and blinked against the burn, but you still had to swipe a few droplets quickly from your cheeks. You tried to even out your shallow breaths. It felt like someone had reached into your chest and started squeezing whatever they found. Whatever was left.

Dean sidled up to you with his hands in his pockets. You heaved a sharp sigh, recognizing him just by his shadow casting beside yours under the streetlamp. You kept your face away from him as you wiped at your tears.

“Why do you insist on watching me be miserable?” you asked. 

“Aw, come on, sweetheart.” He shook his head, carding a hand through his hair. “I know you’re upset. I just want to make sure you get home safe, that’s all. …You don’t even have to talk to me if you don’t want to.” 

You slowly shot him a glance, but you didn’t budge. Your frown deepened along with your furrowed brows.  

“Dean, please. You don’t have to do this just because you feel sorry for me,” you said.

“I don’t feel sorry for you,” he said.

It earned your attention, your confused and hurt expression.

Dean met your gaze steadily. “I feel sorry for him. Because he doesn’t have a clue what he’s just lost.”

Your breath stilled in your lungs. 

His words touched you, more deeply than he probably realized. Part of you still wanted to give a sharp retort, that you didn’t need a chaperone. You didn’t need him to swoop in and collect you like broken glass…but a larger part of you craved the company. You didn’t want to be alone.

Soon enough, the next bus pulled up at the curb in front of you. The doors opened. 

Dean gestured with a sweeping hand towards the bus’s steps. 

Ladies first.

With another small sigh, you climbed up without a word. You even accepted his helping hand as you did so. Dean stepped up after you, and the doors closed behind you both.

AN: Welp, Happy Valentine's Day! 😅💜 Quite literally an angsty ride here, but what should happen on this bus going nowhere...

Next Time:

You admired his hands as they rested casually in his lap. They were larger than yours, with long fingers. His hands look strong and capable, like the rest of him, even though they were always considerate when they touched you.

“Then you should do something you like doing,” you said. “Fixing cars! That’s good, honest work you can make a living out of.”

Dean looked over at you. “You think so?”

You nodded your encouragement, smiling bright. “I know so. You might be a bit of a flirt, but you also look like someone who can accomplish whatever you set your mind to.”

When those words slipped free from your mouth, you realized how he might take that little accusation, let alone how overeager you sounded. Your gaze fell away from him as you felt your face getting warm in a blush.

Dean’s smile slid into a smirk. “I’m a flirt, huh?”

“Well…” You bit the inside of your lip and tried your hardest not to look at him for a while. “At least you’re an honest one.”

Dean laughed freely at that.

▶️ Keep Reading: PART 3

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[cuteandhughesy]

3. “we really shouldn’t” “so?” with anthony stolarz

he def seems like the type of guy who’d be ur brothers teammate and you’d sleep with him behind ur brothers back 😶

prompt no.3: “we really shouldn’t.” “so?”

your brother mitch has always been protective. you’re his younger sister, two years younger than him, and have always been super kind and naive. from a young age, he saw the way people took advantage of you and felt that it was his responsibility to keep you safe.

when you got a bit older and started dating, mitch’s protectiveness got worse. no boy was good enough, even when they were. mitch would drive boys away with menacing looks and what he called ‘stern talkings’ which are also known as threats.

eventually when you convinced your brother to chill the fuck out a little bit and let you work things out on your own, he surprisingly agreed.

under one circumstance.

you can’t date his friends, and you certainly can’t date his teammates. ever.

and you could live with that. most of mitch’s friends where your friends, and you didn’t see them that way. and when mitch started getting more serious about hockey, he barley went out or had his teammates come over, so you never even met them. steph would ask all the time if you wanted to come to games, but you weren’t really interested.

“maybe you’ll find a guy,” she used to tease, winking at you discreetly in the dim light of the living room.

you always responded the same way, “im not into hockey players.”

when mitch made it to the nhl, you started going to games more often. you got to drink beers that mitch was paying for, and chat with steph about school and boys without the prying ears of your brother and your family.

as the years passed, mitch never strayed from his dating rule or protectiveness over you.

you never planned on rebuking mitch’s dating rule until anthony stolarz waltzed into toronto with a summer tan and a perfect smile. he’s older than you, mature but doesn’t take himself too seriously. anthony introduced himself to you with a playful and intriguing gleam, and it instantly has you feeling things.

and your sister-in-law knows it too, because anytime mitch brings up anthony or the net minder is in the same room as you, she’s wiggling her brows at you and grinning. you hate her.

and it’s fine, you think. it’s just a stupid crush on a new, older man. you’ll get over it. it’s not reciprocated.

expect it’s totally reciprocated, and after too many glasses of wine and a private bathroom at some bar after a win, you and anthony begin hook up. and it doesn’t just end there. you have sex often, and kiss and go on dates even more frequently.

you find yourself in a secret relationship, and at the same time, betraying your older brother. slowly it becomes harder to keep a secret, and the people in your life start noticing.

it starts with steph who just knows you too well. she straight up just asks you, and you blurt it out like you physically can’t hold it in any longer. steph smirked and said, ‘I fucking knew it.’

next came auston matthews, one of mitch’s closest friends and teammates, walks in on your and anthony making out like teenagers in a guest bathroom. to be fair, you didn’t look the door. and it was also auston’s house. you rushed out after the goal scorer, lips glistening and eyes frantic, begging him not to say anything.

auston just laughed and said, ‘don’t worry kid, your secret is safe with me.’

your parents knew, and your closest friends knew (mostly leaf wags who you sworn to secrecy). it started to feel more real, and you certainly got more comfortable.

so yeah you may of had four too many beers at the game. and yeah, when you see your boyfriend walking out of the leafs dressing room, looking divine after a win, you just want to normal and go up to your boyfriend.

it wasn’t uncommon for you to wait in the tunnels with steph for mitch after games, especially when you’ve all driven to the rink together. anthony would always smile at you, a little too sexy for trying to be discrete, but you never pushed those boundaries. not when mitch could walk out.

but once again, you’re well passed tipsy and you just want to live up on your man like all the other wags get to. before you can think about it, you’re walking up to anthony, heels clicking on the floor as you make your way through the crowd.

anthony’s talking to morgan, completely unaware of the way your striding towards him until you’re right in front of him. you wrap your hand around his bicep, blinking up at him with a glossed over expression.

“hi,” you beam, glossy lips tempting.

anthony swallows, eyes squinting in amusement. he shoots a glance at morgan, who is just stifling laughter like he knows—god damn it tessa. “hi,” he parrots.

“missed you,” you whine, pushing up onto the toe of your heeled boots and pucker your lips, “can I have a kiss?”

anthony laughs, rubbing the back of his neck and subtly scanning the room—checking if anyone was watching. morgan has slipped away now, and there’s only a few lingering people left in the tunnel. he sees steph, eyeing you both sneakily. which means mitch is still here.

“we really shouldn’t.” he mumbles. despite his words, anthony lets his hand wrap around your waist, keeping you against his chest to steady your drink sway. he licks along his bottom lip, “your brother could catch us.”

“so?” you huff, pushing even further up his body. “just a quick kiss.” you say. you’re too happy on wine and in love to think about your brothers stupid rule right now. you couldn’t care less about anything besides your gigantic boyfriend—who is grinning down at you like you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to him.

and you are. more than the nhl. more than the stanley cup. more than breathing.

quickly, anthony leans down, free hand enclosing on the side of your face as he tilts your head up, connecting your lips together.

the kiss doesn’t last nearly as long as you need it to, and you whine when anthony pulls off of you. you’re not caught, thankfully, and that only makes you want to kiss him over and over again.

“i’ll see you later, kay?” anthony whispers softly, talking his hand off your hips.

you nod, taking your bottom lip between your teeth and dropping back down to your heels. “love you.”

“love you too.”

—

(unedited)

[aroacesafeplaceforall]

I’ve had someone tell me that I can’t be ace because I don’t want to have sex.

I know I’m ace because I don’t feel sexual attraction. I’m nearly 30 and have never felt it. I’ve know I’m ace for at least 5 years. Since I found out there was a word for what I felt. But I also don’t want to have sex. Among other things, the thought of another human touching me in a sexual way makes me want to run in the opposite direction.

Am I still ace? Or have I thought wrong for so many years?

The person who told you that is a fucking moron.

Yes, you are ace. Not wanting to have sex and not experiencing any sexual attraction are the two TOP hints that “hey, maybe you're asexual! ” I don't want to have sex and I don't experience sexual attraction (aegopanace) so by this dumbasses logic, I am not ace.

Don't listen to this dumbass. You're ace as long as you say you are ace and feel like you ID with the label. Even if you wanted to have sex and didn't experience sexual attraction, that is still being asexual.

Asexual is experiencing little to no sexual attraction or fluctuating levels of attraction. In no way does sexual attraction = having sex, as you do not need to be sexually attracted to someone to do it.

Stay safe, remember that it's your box! Cut this dumbass out of your life anon!

Obviously, some asexuals don't fit into those two, but we're speaking about anon rn. You're still valid, no matter what!

Maybe check out the label "sex repulsed" too, no pressure of course but you may find some people there that you can relate to!

On a side note: I do hate that in the ace communities attempt to be inclusive we've somehow come full circle, and now you have to have sex and not have sexual attraction to be ace as "aces can have sex :(" Fuck off, I would rather die then have sex.

[witchygagirlwrites]

Wildflower-Part 1

Jay Halstead x Reader (Nicknamed Wildflower)

You and Jay suffer through a loss and trauma. He leaves then when he does return he discovers a secret that you have been trying desperately to hide

Talk of death, depression, killing someone, sex, pregnancy, abortion… I think that’s it??

You stood next to Jay, your hand in his. He wore his dress uniform. You’d only seen it a few times in the years you’d known him, you fucking hated seeing it because you knew what it meant. After today? You would never be able to look at it again.

The black dress you wore was going in the trash the moment you got home. You didn’t want it hanging in your closet as a reminder. Your eyes were glued to the grey coffin in the front of the church. You could vaguely register the fact of Mouse’s mother and sister crying, his father consoling them. You should try to comfort them, you needed to, hell he’d want you to but the words wouldn’t come out. The photo of him staring back at you would haunt your dreams when you closed your eyes. 

When Jay had come to the station house to tell you, you knew something was wrong. Boden called you into his office, Jay was there. You could tell he’d been crying already. “Jay?” your stomach knotted, had something happened to Hailey? You hadn’t responded to a call. Him and Boden exchanged a look “I’ll step out and give you two some privacy” when Boden walked by you he patted your shoulder gently then closed the door behind himself. You watched him walk out then turned to Jay. “What’s going on?”

He walked across the floor to you and stopped just close enough he could touch you but he didn’t. You could see the slight tremor in his hands. “Jay, please say something.You’re fucking scaring me” you whispered. He pulled you into his arms, wrapping himself around you before saying “His unit got hit Wildflower. He’s not coming home this time” you felt your knees go out from under you but Jay’s arms held you up “No Jay” you sobbed and he kissed the top of your head “I’m sorry sweetheart”

The priest’s voice made you flinch. You weren’t even sure why. Was it the fact that you were normally the only person outside of his mom and dad that called him Greg? Was it hearing him talked about in past tense? Was it knowing that you never told him how you felt and made Jay keep the secret too? Was it feeling Jay pull away from you even as his fingers curled around yours? It had been the three of you for years, with one gone could the other two remain best friends? You’d lost people before but never felt like you were burying a piece of who you were before now.

You knew things were getting bad for Jay. His and Hailey’s marriage was strained to say the least. He wouldn’t go into full details with you but he’d gone into enough for you to know that the way intelligence was forced to handle certain things was just starting to weigh on him a little too hard after Mouse’s death.

_________________________

You didn’t realize just how bad things were until he brought up the prospect of going back into the army one night when he came over.

You sat there, staring at him for a moment before shaking your head “Get the fuck out of my place Jay” “Wildflower” he tried and you shook your head “No, no you don’t fucking sit there and tell me you’re gonna go back in after we haven’t even hit six fucking months after his death! You don’t do that! Not to me!”

He reached for your arm but you jumped up off the couch, shaking your head “No, go home and talk to Hailey. Maybe your wife can talk sense into you” you pointed to the door and he sighed “I didn’t bring this up to hurt you sweetheart. I just want to be honest with you” you wrapped your arms around yourself as you faced him “Honest? Honest? Jay, I had to look at that casket and know that he’s never coming back. Now you want me to face the same with you? How the fuck is that fair?”

“It’s not, none of this is fair” he agreed so you nodded “At least you can see that. Now I’m gonna repeat myself one more time, please get out” he stood up and nodded “I’ll see you later” and stepped closer to you, when you didn’t flinch away he pressed a kiss to your temple then walked out.

A couple weeks passed and you hoped maybe he’d gotten the idea out of his head but you were watching a movie, curled up on your couch when he called. You picked up your phone off the coffee table “Hello?” you heard him take a deep breath before he said “We need to talk, you’re gonna hate me but I can’t do this over the phone” you already knew what it was. You felt tears start to form in your eyes “You took the job in Bolivia” you didn’t make it a question but he still answered “Baby, I can’t stay here. Not right now anyways”

You swallowed hard “When do you leave?” “Tomorrow morning. I wanted to come see you tonight” “Ok”

______________________

When Jay knocked you opened the door and stepped back to let him in. He wouldn’t even meet your eyes. “Will you say something Flower?” you shrugged “What is there to say?” he finally raised his eyes to meet yours. The black shirt he had on making them a bright blue that night. His eyes always mesmerized you that way. It depended on what color he was wearing on what shade popped out the most, the blue haze or green. You’d freaking color matched his eyes once to seafoam.

“Yell at me, call me a selfish asshole..anything..just don’t be silent” he spoke and you nodded, tears falling down your face. “What did Hailey say?” he held up his left hand to show you his wedding ring was missing “We signed the papers last week” your eyes widened “How bad was what happened when you were undercover Jay?” he flinched at your question and you let out a breath “Why didn’t you talk to me?” “and tell you what? You want me to tell you that your best friend killed someone in self defense but given the circumstances Voight had to cover it up? You want me to tell you all the shit that we’ve had to cover up over the years? You want me to tell you all the shit I’ve done that would make you look at me like I’m a fucking monster?”

“YES JAY YES” you yelled and he stepped back “What?” you waved your hands around “YOU TELL ME! EVERYTHING BECAUSE AT THE END OF THE DAY I CAN NOT FIND IT IN ME TO CARE WHAT YOU DID BECAUSE YOU WALKED AWAY FROM IT AND THAT IS WHAT MATTERS TO ME! MY BEST FRIEND IS STILL DRAWING BREATH! BUT NOW YOU’RE WALKING HEAD FIRST INTO WHAT KILLED MOUSE AND I HAVE TO STAY HERE AND FACE THAT ALONE AND I AM SO FUCKING PISSED OFF AT YOU  BECAUSE OF IT!”

He took a step towards you and you let him pull you against his chest and you finally broke, sobs wracking your body “I can’t see you in a casket too Jay. Losing him wrecked me. Losing you is going to kill me” “I’m going to come home” he whispered and you shook your head “Don’t fucking say that because he said that and he didn’t fucking come home!”

“I will do everything I can to find my way back to you” he whispered and you pulled back from his chest to look up at him. You both stared at each other for a heart beat before his lips were on yours. You snatched away from him and his eyes widened “I’m sorry” “Don’t be” you whispered before pulling him back down to you. One of his hands moved to the back of your neck, holding you to him as his other hand gripped your hip tightly. 

When the need for air pushed you away from each other his lips worked their way from yours down your neck “We shouldn’t be doing this” he spoke into your skin. You nodded, tilting your head back to give more access to more skin. “I know” his hands slid under your shirt and when you felt his calloused fingertips tease at your sides you let out a light gasp as he pulled his hands up, bringing your shirt along with it. You leaned back from him long enough for him to pull the shirt over your head and toss it. “You’ve always been so damn beautiful”  he spoke and you shook your head “Please stop talking” and tugged at his shirt, begging him to take it off.

He pulled his shirt over his head, tossing it down near yours. You grabbed his hand and walked backwards to the couch. When you laid down on it, pulling him with you he cut his eyes up towards your bedroom. You shook your head “I want you now. You’re leaving tomorrow, I need you right now” he groaned lightly “You can have me” as he crawled up your body, connecting his lips to yours in a gentle kiss.

You fumbled to get your leggings off your hips as his hands went to his belt. He kicked his jeans away then helped you to pull your leggings off and tossed them to the floor before settling himself between your legs “Are you sure?” he asked and you could feel the head of his cock teasing at your entrance even as he asked. “Please, if this is the last time I see you..let me have all of you Jay and have all of me” he nodded as he lined himself up with your entrance and slowly sank in, both of you letting out a low moan at the sensation of him filling you.

Your head dropped back on the couch and he brushed kisses across your exposed throat “You ok?” you swallowed hard “Yeah” you gave yourself a minute to adjust then shifted your hips down against his. He grunted from the feeling then cut his eyes at you “I got you sweetheart” he rolled his hips into yours and you let out a low moan of his name. “Fuck, that’s gonna stick with me” he mumbled as he found a pace that quickly had your nails biting into the flesh of his back. Tears were forming in your eyes and you weren’t sure if it was from the pleasure coursing through you or the knowledge that this was goodbye.

You squeezed your eyes shut when you felt him looking at you as your orgasm crept up on you. He pressed a kiss to the corner of your mouth “Open your eyes baby. I want to see you” you slowly opened your eyes and saw he had tears in his eyes too. He smiled and crashed his lips against yours as his hand slipped between your bodies, fingers finding your clit easily and pushing you over that edge. When you came, walls clenching down around him it pushed him over that edge as well. He buried himself in you with a deep thrust, moaning  your name out as he filled you, pushing some of it back out as he continued to lazily thrust into you to work you both down from the high. His lips never left yours until you had to pull away to get air, then he kissed the corner of your mouth and moved down to your neck and chest.

“You will see me again wildflower” he promised into your skin. You shook your head, nails lighty scraping his back “You’ve got to tell me goodbye Jay. Please” he leaned up to look at you and you could see he was hurting as bad as you were “I’ll tell you goodbye before I leave here, ok? For now, I’m holding my best friend” you nodded “I’m good with that”

Jay had been gone two months when you found out you were pregnant. With the birth control you were on mixed with your job your periods were touchy at best so you didn’t think anything of it until you started hurting in weird places. Then came nausea over smells you normally loved. The point that pushed you to take the test was when Stella asked if your boobs had gotten bigger.

______________________

You sat on the floor of your bathroom staring at the test for two hours after you took it. What the fuck were you supposed to do? Jay was gone, he was nowhere in this equation. Hell his divorce was probably not even filed good when you got pregnant. You had three options. If you were still early enough along there was abortion, you’d overheard Stella and Kelly talking about looking into an adoption agency so that was an option then there was the option of keeping it.

Could you raise a baby alone? If you kept it you’d have to eat a lot of questions that you couldn’t answer. This was too much of a distraction for someone over there, Jay couldn’t know. Then on top of that..He was married to Hailey up until a week before he left. What if people assumed he’d been cheating on her? What if they thought he left to avoid being a father? What if…no, there would be no what if. If you kept the baby you wouldn’t let Jay’s name get dragged through the mud because no one would know it was his. You’d do it on your own. You just had to decide what road you were going to take.

You had just laid Leah down for her nap and was headed to the kitchen in an attempt to wash up her bottles and maybe eat a tiny something. A knock on the door froze you in your tracks. No one was supposed to be coming by today and it was your day off. You sighed as another knock landed “Jesus, I’m coming”! You called out, hoping that Leah would sleep through the noise.

You unlocked the door as another knock landed “Keep your freaking pants on” you snatched the door open and froze dead in your tracks. Jay stood on the other side of the door. Were you still asleep? You had to still be asleep. He’d been gone for over a year.You reached up and pinched your arm, flinching when it actually hurt “You’re real” you breathed and he half smiled “Yeah. Can I come in?”

You waved a hand down his body, considering he was still wearing his army uniform and had his duffle slung over his shoulder “Did you come here straight from the airport?” he nodded, a smile slipping onto his face  “I wanted to see you. You never wrote me back, you wouldn’t answer my calls. I wanted to make sure you were ok”

“I’m fine Jay, I’ve um…I’ve just been busy” you knew the excuse fell flat even before his smile fell.  “You were too busy to send a letter or an email?” he asked and you opened your mouth to give some excuse, hoping to get him to leave but Leah chose that moment to wake up.

Her tiny cry seemed to echo through your apartment. Jay’s head snatched in that direction and you dropped your gaze, fuck. “I’ll be right back” maybe if you could get her back to sleep quick enough you could convince him she belonged to a friend?

______________________

The moment Jay stepped off the plane he knew he needed to see you. Every thought was filled with you. Why hadn’t you answered the phone? Why hadn’t you emailed or sent a letter? Was it because of what happened before he left? Did you hate him now? Had something happened to you? 

He stepped out of the uber and walked up to your door. He didn’t have your number, your old one didn’t work. He hoped you still lived here. He knocked twice before he heard your voice. The door snatched open and his heart skipped a beat when you were standing there in the doorway. You looked tired, your hair was a little different but you were still just as beautiful as always. Still his best friend. You stared at him for a moment before pinching your own arm, then you flinched “You’re real”

You thought you were asleep. Had you dreamt of him like he’d dreamt of you? He felt a small smile slip onto his face at the idea “Yeah. Can I come in?” you waved a hand at him and asked if he came straight from the airport. Of course he had. You hadn’t had any contact with him since he left.  “I wanted to see you. You never wrote me back, you wouldn’t answer my calls. I wanted to make sure you were ok” 

“I’m fine Jay, I’ve um…I’ve just been busy” you stammered and he felt his face fall. “You were too busy to send a letter or an email?” you seemed like you were about to say something else but then the clear sound of a baby crying filled the air. His head snatched towards the sound. A baby? You wouldn’t look at him when you said “I’ll be right back”

Like hell. You turned to walk towards your spare bedroom so he stepped in, dropping his duffle and closed the door before following you. When he got to the spare bedroom he froze. It wasn’t a spare bedroom anymore. There was a crib in the center of the room, a small white dresser, a glider rocker and a lamp. This was a nursery. 

You turned to face him with a tiny baby curled up against your chest. She was wearing a pink onesie and tears filled your eyes. She couldn’t have been over a couple months old tops. The math added up. “Is she..is she mine?” he asked and you nodded, gaze falling as you swayed slightly side to side, trying to soothe the baby.

He stepped into the room, trying to make his brain catch up with what was happening. You had a baby. You had his baby. That last night before he left, you got pregnant. That was why you hadn’t talked to him. “Can I hold her?” he asked, eyes glued to his little girl. His little girl. He had a babygirl. You nodded, swallowing hard “Of course Jay. She’s your daughter” he heard your voice shake when you spoke.

You walked over to him and when you transferred her into his arms he could feel the fact that you were shaking like a leaf. “Her name’s Leah Jay. I’ll give you a minute” you gave him a tiny smile but he could see the tears streaming down your face. 

“Sweetheart?” he tried and you shook your head “I need a minute and you need to meet your daughter” you walked out of the room so he looked down at her, his little girl. “Hey Leah. I’m um..I’m your daddy” he looked around then walked over to the rocker and sat down.

She was so small but looked healthy. She cooed slightly and tucked into his chest. He felt his heart swell. How did he love someone this much that he just met? He was a dad. He had a daughter. He felt tears start to slide down his face “I’m so sorry babygirl. I didn’t even know your mommy was pregnant”

How had this happened? Well he knew how this happened but fuck. He had a daughter. You’d gone through a pregnancy and delivery alone. Well not alone, your friends wouldn’t leave your side but he hadn’t been there. He’d abandoned his best friend when she needed him the most. He kissed Leah’s forehead gently “I’m so sorry baby” 

_____________________

You barely made it out of Leah’s nursery. You slid down the wall just out of Jay’s sight with a hand over your mouth so he wouldn’t hear your sobs. He wasn’t supposed to find out, especially 

not like this. You could hear him talking to her, apologizing and that ripped your heart out even more. You never wanted him to be guilted into being a father, you never wanted him to have to face the fact that he’d gotten you pregnant before his divorce from Hailey was even finalized. 

You closed your eyes, trying to calm down. She would need to be changed, fed. He couldn’t do it. You needed to get back on your feet, you needed to keep pushing like you always did but this? Fuck you never wanted this. You never would’ve hurt Jay for anything, especially not after you both lost Mouse.

You took a deep breath, wiped your hands down your face and slowly stood before walking back into the nursery. Jay was sitting in the rocket, just staring at her. “She’s pretty isn’t she?” you asked and he looked up, a small smile on his face even though you could see the tears he’d already shed “She looks like you”  you shook your head “She um probably needs a diaper and I know she needs a bottle”

“Oh, ok” he stood up slowly and walked over to you. You could still feel your hands shake when you reached for her but you were calmer than you were. You cut your eyes up at him and he held your gaze “Can we talk?” “Let me get her back to sleep” you whispered and he nodded “Ok” and leaned down to kiss her forehead before saying “I’ll wait in the other room” you knew he was giving you breathing area and you appreciated it. You nodded “Ok” and watched him walk out.

Once it was just you and her you took a deep breath. You could do this, you had to do this.

You walked out of Leah’s nursery to find Jay looking at one of the photos on your wall. “It’s from his going away party” you answered and he nodded “Thought so” a heavy silence fell between the two of you. 

You had always been close with him and Mouse. When he helped Mouse get clean and the job with intelligence you three got even closer. Along the way you developed feelings for Mouse but by the time you worked up the nerve to tell him, he decided to rejoin the rangers and you couldn’t stand in the way of how he wanted to live his life. You never would’ve thought that way would’ve ended his life also.

“When did you find out you were pregnant?” Jay asked, breaking the silence. You ran a hand across your hair “Um a couple months after you left. You know how weird my periods have always been. It took me being sick for a couple weeks in a row before I finally gave in and took a test”

He nodded and you waved a hand towards him “You need some different clothes” he looked down and laughed lightly “Yeah. My stuff is in storage, along with my truck” you nodded “Why didn’t you go to Will’s first?” he shrugged “Wildflower, I missed you. You’re my best friend and the last time I saw you..” he trailed off so you smiled “We had spent the previous night together then you hopped in an uber and deployed?” he laughed lightly  “Yeah”

“I need to do some things while she’s asleep. You’re welcome to hang around but I’ve got to get it done” were you trying to dodge him? Maybe. Did it change that you needed to get the stuff done? No. 

He unbuttoned his jacket and slipped it off, leaving him in just his uniform pants and short sleeve tan shirt. Yeah that wasn’t distracting.  “Can I help with anything” you shook your head “It’s just normal stuff Jay. I’ve got to wash bottles, do laundry and I haven't eaten”

He nodded “Guessing your laundry room hasn’t moved. I can do that” you shook your head “You literally just got home. Hell have you eaten?” he shrugged “I’m fine” you laughed and shook your head “Stubborn ass. Let me get the bottles washed and I’ll figure something out”

_____________________

Jay stood a few feet from you, leaned against the counter. “What last name does she have?” he asked and you sighed, this was going to be a hard conversation “Mine. Jay, no one knows she’s yours. You’re not on the birth certificate and she has my last name. You have no responsibility to her. I’ve made sure of that so no one could drag your name through the mud considering I got pregnant before your divorce was final”

He was quiet while you finished washing the bottles so you turned to see he was staring at you “So you hid her?” you shook your head “No, I just didn’t tell anyone who she belonged to. Jay don’t make any big life decisions right now. You just got home. We lost Mouse not long before you left then everything with that undercover and your divorce. Just don’t do anything rash”

He looked confused for a second “Like what?” you waved a hand in the vague direction of the nursery “Don’t rush to tell anyone” “She’s my daughter” he sounded hurt. You nodded “I know that Jay and you can see her but don’t ruin your future, ok?” “Are you listening to yourself? How would that baby ruin my future?” he asked and you shrugged “Do you know what people would say? Just promise me for now, you won’t say anything”

He held your gaze “I’m not ashamed of her or you” “I know you’re not Jay but I am asking, as your friend and as her mother. Keep it between us for now. Please?” he nodded slowly “Fine” 

“Now, I haven’t gone grocery shopping but I can make grilled ham and cheese?” you offered and he smiled “Good with me”

_______________________

“What’s your plan now?” you asked, sitting across from Jay at your two seater kitchen table. He glanced back towards the nursery before saying “Um I got a job in private security. Less risk, more money” “That’s good Jay. I’m glad” you told him and he nodded “I’ll be staying with Will until I find a place” you laughed lightly “Well if I still had a spare room I’d offer it but ya know” you were trying to lighten the mood but he didn’t seem to agree. “How is everything?” 

“Fine, I still know the same people. Still work at fifty one. Only thing that changed was Mouse was dead, you were gone and I and gave birth to her” he held your eyes “Why did you keep her?” your eyes widened “Wow” and you stood up but he was always faster than you and before you could get two steps he was on his feet with his hand wrapped around your wrist gently “I didn’t mean it how it sounded. I’m happy you kept her. She’s everything but you never even wanted kids?”

“I was spiralling Jay, when I found out I was pregnant..I wasn’t doing good mentally or physically. I considered abortion. Hell I considered adoption because Stella and Kelly hadn’t found a baby yet” “But?” he asked and you shrugged “But I decided to keep her. It’s not been a walk in the park but I’ve made it this far and will continue to”

“You’ve always been so damn strong” he told you and you scoffed “Easy to be strong when you don’t have another choice” 

You talked Jay into taking an uber to Will instead of getting Will to come to your place. You stood at the door as he gathered his duffle “Can I come see her?” he asked and you nodded “Hold on” you walked into the kitchen and found a sheet of paper and pen. You wrote your number down and held it out to him “Here”

He took it and smiled “Ok. I’ll see you later Wildflower” you smiled “See you later Jay” you closed the door and took a deep breath. Ok that happened and somehow you made it through it. You just hoped he’d keep his promise and not tell anyone, you’d been her only parent this long. You had it, you could continue having it.

Jay was a good man, he deserved the best. 

@desimarie12

@nevaehstreater18