#or people will straight up just only see one side of me

[rhyrhy]

it's my time to shine, ayy 🫶🏼 'm on a whole mission, (you can see it on my blog), reader is cocky, smug, little-shit femme, her and Abby are friends with "benefits" (as: Abby and reader take care of each other, share a bed, kisses "as friends" using it as a stress relief, etc) yet every single time reader try to, like, DTR (define the relationship, duh!), Abby straight up ghosts reader on that convo, (she has major comphet vibes, but that's just a lil' headcanon, don't come for me) now, reader? she ain't no doormat, she's PETTY. Capital P-E-T-T-Y. so when they're both forced (forced proximity? oops...) for a mission, reader looks at Abby dead in the eyes when they're aline and hit her with: "girl, i've been wantin' to kick your ass all week"

OOOOOO THIS IS GOOD! I did my best, mini Drabble

Dodge, duck, ghost - A.A

Abby Run-Like-a-Bitch Anderson,

Manny cried laughing the first time he heard you call her that. But you weren’t joking.

Not when the last time you saw Abby, she was bolting out of your room like the WLF had just declared war. And before that? Her tongue was down your throat, hands gripping your waist like she never planned on letting go. That’s how it felt every-time.

That was how she always was touchy, needy, all over you behind closed doors. But you weren’t some secret, something to be ashamed of. Not when there were plenty of other people who’d proudly parade you around. But unfortunately for you, the heart wants what it wants. And unlike Abby, you actually listen to yours. So when the moans and cries had stopped bouncing off your walls, she said something that caught you off guard.

Abby’s breathing was still uneven, her fingers lazily tracing circles against your hip like she wasn’t ready to let go just yet. The room was quiet, save for the sound of your heart still thudding in your chest. And then, she said it. soft, almost like she didn’t mean to say it out loud.

“It’s— this, is different with you…you feel like home”

You blinked, turning your head to look at her. Her gaze was on the ceiling, brows slightly furrowed, like she was already regretting the words.

“Home..?” A slow smile crept onto your lips. “…Sounds long term,” you teased, nudging her side.

That made her freeze. The lazy circles against your hip stopped. Then, before you could react, she was pulling away, sitting up and reaching for her clothes like she’d just been caught doing something wrong. Afterglow or not, she meant it. And you had to push. You’d let her dance around the obvious for too long. For God’s sake, you were there when she broke up with Owen. Listened to her go on and on about how much of a bitch Mel was, how wrong it all felt. So the least she could do was be honest. not just with you, but with herself.

And like clockwork, she stiffened. Sat up. Started getting dressed like she hadn’t just spent the last hour tangled up with you, her face buried against your neck.

“Uht-uht. Hey. Where are you going?” you asked, watching her yank on her shirt.

Abby didn’t look at you. Just laced up her boots and muttered, “I gotta be up early.”

You sat up too, arms resting on your knees. The only thing keeping your sheets warm now was the disappointment. This couldnt keep going on. “Abby, can you stop for two—”

Thud

But the door was already closed behind her.

”—seconds,” you finished, to the empty room.

That was weeks ago.

And wasn’t the first time she’s done that. You never pushed her to label herself, bi, lesbian, it didn’t matter to you. But with her, it went in one ear and out the other. At first, you tried to play it cool. If she needed time to sort through whatever that was, fine. But then she started dodging you. Switched up her gym schedule. Took shifts at different hours. Disappeared from the mess hall when you walked in. She was practically a ghost.

“Yeah, she definitely avoiding you chica” manny said turning back to his plate

“Wow Thanks manny” you huffed. Yeah, That much was obvious.

The Abby you knew wouldn’t just run off. Or at least, the Abby you thought you knew. So when Isaac briefed you on your next mission and didn’t mention her name, you almost bought it. Almost. Until you showed up at the post and caught Abby mid-change, swapping out a sweat-stained shirt for a clean one.

She paused when she saw you, shoulders stiff like she’d already knew where this was going. You cocked your head, waiting for her to say something.

She didn’t. Of course she didn’t.

“You know what—” you sighed, setting your pack down. Then, dead serious, you looked her right in the eyes and said—

“Girl, I’ve been wantin’ to kick your ass all week.”

Abby exhaled through her nose, shaking her head like she knew this was coming. “Jesus.”

“Jesus? Oh no, don’t bring him into this now,” you scoffed, stepping closer. “He ain’t the one who ghosted me after weeks of—what did you call it? ‘Taking care of each other?’” You even threw up air quotes, just to be a little shit about it.

Abby’s jaw tightened. “I didn’t ghost you.”

You blinked. Then laughed at her, like she was doing stand up on stage. “Oh, right. So what do you call changing your gym schedule, eating at different times, avoiding me like I got the damn plague?”

Abby dragged a hand down her face, resting it on her hip. “I just—”

You held a hand up before she could choke something out. “Say some bullshit, I dare you,” you cut in, tilting your head.

She clenched her jaw. Looked away. “I just needed space.”

You stared at her. “Space? Call NASA for that shit. You were in my bed two weeks ago. Two.”

Abby shifted, muttering, “That was different.”

“Oh yeah?” You crossed your arms. “How?”

Silence.

You let it hang there, watching her fingers flex at her sides like she wanted to ball them into fists but knew that wouldn’t fix this. Like she knew you were right but refused to say it. You exhaled sharply, shaking your head. “See, this is exactly why I said what I said. You know what you want, Abby. You’re just too chickenshit to admit it.”

Abby’s head snapped up. “That’s not true.”

“Then prove it.” You stepped closer, tilting your chin up. “Tell me you don’t want me. Right here, right now.”

Abby just stared at you, jaw tight, breath a little unsteady.

The tension was thick. You could see it in the way her fists clenched, in the way her eyes flickered over your face like she was searching for something. some way out, some way forward. Anything.

“Yeah. That’s what I thought.”

But then, someone called both of your names, signaling it was time to move out. Abby exhaled sharply, grabbed her pack, and brushed past you without another word.

You just sighed , slinging your bag over your shoulder. Three days.

She’d have to deal with you for three whole days.

The mission was simple: track and clear a small group of Scars camping out near the old radio tower. It should’ve been easy. Would’ve been, if not for the unspoken thing crackling in the air between you and Abby. She was doing her best to ignore it, kept her distance, kept her eyes forward, barely said a word unless it was mission-related.

You? You were having the time of your life.

Every chance you got, you brushed past her, just close enough to graze her arm. Threw her smug little looks when she glared at you. Smiled real pretty when she clenched her jaw and looked away. Petty? Yeah. But so was avoiding someone just because they called you out on your own bullshit. Your own feelings that were right in front of her.

By the time the mission was over and you’d made it back to the safe house for the night, you could feel the tension rolling off her. Everyone else had turned in for the night, sprawled out across old mattresses and sleeping bags. But you weren’t done with her yet.

She was sitting near the window, legs stretched out, back against the wall. She had her arms crossed, fingers tapping against her bicep like she was still wound up, still caught up in whatever thought, feelings words even, she refused to let out.

So you moved over to her. You crouched in front of her, hands on your knees, and grinned. “Y’know,” you said, voice just low enough that no one else could hear, “if you keep runnin’ from your feelings like this, you’re gonna pull something.”

Abby’s fingers stopped tapping. Her eyes flicked to you, sharp and tired. “Not now.”

“Oh, so later then?” Your smile grew. “I’ll pen you in.” “How’s Friday? That work for you?”

Abby exhaled through her nose. “Jesus, do you ever shut up?

You leaned in slightly, dropping your voice even lower. “Mm, You used to like when I ran my mouth. What happened to that?”

Abby’s jaw tightened.

You tilted your head. “What, nothing to say? No pissy comeback? No ‘shut the fuck up’ ,” You reached out, lightly tapping her knee. “C’mon, Abs. Say something.”

And that’s when it happened.

Abby moved fast. One second, she was sitting against the wall, and the next, she was grabbing you by the front of your shirt and yanking you up until your back hit the opposite wall. The breath caught in your throat, but before you could recover, she was right there, her face inches from yours, eyes dark, chest rising and falling like she’d finally had enough. You’d finally pissed her off enough.

You could feel the frustration flowing off of her. And man, did you love it.

“You think this” she gestured between you two “is a game?” Abby hissed, voice low, rough.

Your pulse spiked, but you kept your cool, rolling your eyes at her. “I think you’re mad ‘cause you know I’m right.”

Abby’s grip on your shirt tightened. “You make everything so fucking difficult ” she muttered, shaking her head.

“Oh yeah?” Your voice was barely a whisper now.

Abby’s eyes flickered to your mouth. Then, finally. finally. she broke. “Yeah.”

Her mouth crashed into yours, rough and frustrated, her hands sliding down to grab your waist, pressing you firmly against the wall. You gasped into it, hands flying to her arms, gripping her tight as she kissed you like she was trying to shut you up for good.

Like she was trying to prove something, to you, to herself maybe.

But she’d already lost. Because when she pulled back, breathing hard, you just smiled before speaking again. “Atta girl. Knew you’d crack.”

Abby groaned, dropping her head against your shoulder. “I hate you.”

“Mmn, no you don’t.” You grinned, running a hand through her hair. “But keep tellin’ yourself that, baby.” Her hands tightened on your waist.

Yeah, you’d won this round. But she still had a long way to go.

@/enchanthings for boarders

[00valentina-writes00]

How about sevika with a terminally sick gf. I really loved the one you wrote for vi

♡♥︎Sevika with a terminally ill girlfriend♥︎♡

♥︎ Sevika doesn’t show much, but she’s absolutely destroyed when she finds out. There’s a crack in her usually unflappable armor, a flicker of vulnerability she tries to bury beneath her usual hard edges.

♥︎ She doesn’t talk about it much, but she starts keeping tabs on doctors, researching treatments, and trying to get her hands on any illegal or experimental cures she can afford. She won’t let you give up, even if you’re already resigned.

♥︎ Her usual harshness turns into something colder. She doesn’t waste time with anything unnecessary. If she’s going to help you, it’s going to be in the most effective way possible. No sentimental words, just straight to the point: “I’ll fix this. You’re not dying on me.”

♥︎ When you start getting weaker, she gets more demanding. She pushes you to eat, to stay awake, to fight. She’s relentless because if she doesn’t see you fight, it breaks her apart

♥︎ There are nights when she stays up late, arms crossed, staring out at the dark streets of Zaun, thinking about ways to make you better. Even the shimmer she injects into her system doesn’t offer any comfort when she watches you fade.

♥︎ She spends hours researching obscure treatments, bargaining with shady figures, doing whatever it takes to extend your life, even if it’s just a few more weeks or days. It doesn’t matter how much it costs.

♥︎ At some point, she starts finding herself hovering at your side all the time. She doesn’t want to leave. Not even to sleep. It becomes a strange routine for her, a kind of forced comfort where the silence between you is full of things neither of you are brave enough to say.

♥︎ If you’re awake enough, she’ll push your hair out of your face, but she won’t look you in the eyes. She doesn’t know how to handle the emotions you bring out in her, and it terrifies her.

♥︎ She never asks you how you’re feeling or if you want to talk about it, because she’s afraid you’ll say that you’re giving up. She can’t handle hearing it from your lips, even though she knows deep down you’re right.

♥︎ She starts to get more agitated, snapping at people who are just trying to help because nothing feels like it’s good enough. If anyone says something remotely positive about your situation, she shuts them down hard. She can’t pretend like there’s hope when there’s none.

♥︎ When you can’t leave the bed anymore, Sevika starts bringing everything to you. Food, water, medicine, books to distract you—anything to keep you from slipping further into the darkness.

♥︎ She never shows her tears, but sometimes when she thinks you’re sleeping, she finds herself staring at you, face etched with raw pain, her jaw clenched tight to hold back the wave of emotions that threatens to drown her.

♥︎ Her temper is worse than usual. She’s quick to lash out at others, mostly because she’s so incredibly fucking scared. Scared of losing you. Scared of not being able to save you. And she hates herself for not being able to fix it.

♥︎ She makes herself scarce around people when it gets worse. She’s quieter, more brooding, because the weight of her guilt and helplessness is too heavy to share. The only place she feels even a little bit in control is by your side.

♥︎ On the nights you’re too weak to speak, she holds your hand with a tightness that borders on painful. Her touch is demanding, like she’s afraid you’ll slip away in the blink of an eye.

♥︎ She doesn’t let you see her fear. Every day is a reminder of how much she’s failing you. And every time she sees that spark of hope in your eyes, it drives her mad because she knows she can’t keep it alive forever.

♥︎ As things worsen, she starts avoiding the topic of your death. It feels like a betrayal every time someone mentions it. She ignores the reality, pretending there’s a chance things will magically improve.

♥︎ When you do finally die, it feels like she’s been hit by a freight train. The finality of it leaves her in a state of shock, unable to process it. She doesn’t cry in front of you, not even when she closes your eyes for the last time.

♥︎ Sevika keeps busy after your passing. She throws herself into work, into anything that will distract her from the empty space beside her. She stops sleeping, drinking herself into oblivion, until her body can’t keep up with her broken heart.

♥︎ There are days when the memories hit her in waves. She can still hear your voice in her head, your laugh, the way you’d complain when she pushed too hard. And every time, it feels like a weight she can’t shake.

♥︎ People stop asking her how she’s doing because it’s obvious. She doesn’t need words anymore. The silence speaks for her. She’s the same outwardly—cold, distant—but internally, she’s unraveling, a mess of emotions she doesn’t know how to deal with.

♥︎ She tries to convince herself it’s better this way. You aren’t suffering anymore, and she can’t deny that you were getting worse. But she also knows she’ll never be the same again. That part of her is gone, taken by something she could never control.

♥︎ In the long run, Sevika doesn’t let anyone get close to her again. The wound you left in her will never heal, and she doesn’t think anyone could ever fill the hole you left behind. Not that she’s ready for that anyway

♥︎ But every now and then, when she’s alone, she lets herself think back to you. To the time you spent together, how you made her laugh, how you made her feel alive again. And she lets herself grieve the woman who was once hers.

[marlynnofmany]

Spice in Space

“Of course your food is a biohazard,” Zhee said while the security scanner approved our delivery.

“The label’s just a precaution,” I said. “Pretty sure this is mostly pepper.”

“Right, yes, the food flavoring that gives your meals the flavor of fire.” Zhee tilted his head, bug eyes looking at everything at once while managing to roll sarcastically. “Not a hazard at all.”

“I don’t mean the really spicy kind,” I said as the box slid out of the scanning machine. “Just the regular spices to sprinkle over eggs and whatnot.”

Zhee picked up the box in his pincher arms. “Right, because eating fire-flavored unhatched creatures is a perfectly normal thing to do.”

I laughed and followed him out into the spaceport. “It is where I’m from!”

“Absolute maniacs, all of you,” Zhee declared with a flick of his antennae. “Now where is that food stall? The briefing said it would be tiny.”

“Tiny and close,” I agreed, looking around. Once past the security checkpoint, this place was a riot of booths and pedestrians with an artsy wave pattern on the ceiling that seemed to dampen the sound. It wasn’t as loud as most spaceports I’d been in.

“I see a directory,” Zhee said. “Let’s just check that.”

“Wait, there it is!” I pointed to a little kiosk between full-sized restaurants. It only held enough room for tubs of ingredients, a gigantic hot plate, and the guy currently scraping food around on it with flair. The sign said “Earth Fry.”

“Of course,” Zhee said, moving toward it. “I should have just looked for the fire.”

As we maneuvered through the crowd of Strongarms, Mesmers, and miscellaneous others, the guy tossed the food with his spatula, caught it deftly in a takeout box, and handed it to the customer waiting at the side: another human. No surprise there. By the time we arrived, he was ready to greet us.

“Hello! Can I interest you in some Earth Fry?”

Zhee held up the sealed package. “We have Earth ingredients for you. Apparently they are hazardous.”

“Oh! Yes, thank you! That’ll be the hot sauce and other stuff.” He took the box and found a flat surface to put it on, then accepted the payment tablet I held out for him. “Thanks for being so fast. Somebody got a bit clumsy during the lunch rush and knocked over a few things. Paid for ‘em, but I can’t get all of these local.” He signed for the delivery while I tried to place his accent. Australian?

“Luckily we were just coming from a trade hub,” I said. “This stuff is straight from Earth.”

“Excellent. It’s been a while since I was home, and you can’t beat the real thing for spices.” He handed the tablet back.

“Very true,” I agreed. “Where are you from?”

“Melbourne,” he said while I congratulated myself on guessing right. “Still getting used to how little any of that matters out here. To the average offworlder, Earth is one place with one type of person.”

“And we’re all lunatics who eat poison, right?” I agreed with a sly glance at Zhee.

He spread his pinchers. “Tell me I’m wrong.”

“Hey now, the garlic is only poisonous to some creatures from Earth,” the guy said, pointing to an airtight tub. “And the onions. If you want the real toxins, the alcohol stores are that way.”

Zhee looked at the ceiling. “It’s like you all have a death wish. Or take pleasure in hurting yourselves.”

“Some of the pain tastes good?” I said with a wave toward the hot sauces.

At the same time, the guy said, “There’s a reason they call us space orcs.”

I laughed. “Do they still? I wouldn’t think enough people even know what an orc is.”

To my surprise, Zhee recited, “Mythological creature from your planet, famed for strength, durability, and lack of foresight. Rumors do go around.”

“I suppose that’s one way to put it,” I said.

“Nobody thinks that’s funnier than my family,” said the Australian. “I get no end of jokes about it. Especially from my mom’s side — she’s from the US, and thinks we all say ‘space’ funny.”

“Does she?” I asked. “Interesting word to focus on.”

“Right? She insists that it sounds like ‘spice,’ and I just don’t see what she’s on about. But!” He held up a finger and fiddled with his collar. “That did lead to my favorite shirt.” With a dramatic sweep of his overshirt, he bared a bright red T-shirt that said “Spice Orc.”

I burst out laughing. “That’s fantastic!”

“Mom was pretty proud of herself for this one,” he said. “Gave it to me for my last birthday.”

Zhee declared, “Appropriate. Entirely in character for your species.”

“And we even brought you spice!” I laughed.

“That you did!” he said, resettling his clothes. “Care to try some? The shredded beef dish is particularly tasty.”

I looked at Zhee, then turned back without waiting for a response. “We’ve got a couple minutes. I’d love some. With extra garlic, please!”

“Coming right up!” He spun his tongs like a gunfighter, and began tossing ingredients onto the hot plate where they sizzled madly.

Zhee just grumbled and looked put-upon, but didn’t object. I planned to make a big deal of enjoying the tasty fire-and-poison meal on our walk back to the ship.

~~~

These are the ongoing backstory adventures of the main character from this book.

Shared early on Patreon! There’s even a free tier to get them on the same day as the rest of the world.

The sequel novel is in progress (and will include characters from these stories. I hadn’t thought all of them up when I wrote the first book, but they’re too much fun to leave out of the second).

[kunigamiau]

“ harvey, nobody knows what I see. ”

ryusei shidou x reader

highschool au.

𝄞⨾𓍢ִ໋ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ⋆˚꩜｡⟢ ˎˊ˗

— ❤︎ —

—

you were never a fan of moving away, far too attached to every house you had the chance of living in, to the memories it brought and most importantly to the people you met. that’s what you learned to realise each time you moved away, you weren’t stupid, even as a child you had realised your weaknesses and made sure to never let yourself truly go because everything was temporary.

at least it was until you met him. the blonde haired peculiar boy at the school you were attending. In your younger years you wanted nothing to do with him. you were opposites after all. He was loud, eccentric and boisterous, you were quiet, reserved and contemplate. well until you had no choice but to.

The first interaction between you was when you were peacefully trying to read your book on the bleachers on a warm summer day, basking in the soft rays of the sun. it was going well until- you promptly woke up with a ball straight to your face, knocking the air out of you as you slightly jerked back. The gasps around you made it all the more embarrassing, your friends were nowhere around you and hearing everyone else either holding back laughs while others were still shockingly watching could do nothing but make you want to crawl inside a hole and never come back out. and that was when he approached you, it was silly but the one thing you remember is how he tripped running over to the bleachers.

“ Shoot, I am sorry ? ” The way his tone was unsure made you look at him with a bewildered but honestly speaking, amused look. After a few more seconds of the seemingly on going staring contest you had going on with him you couldn’t help but let your lips curve upright, a giggle erupting from your mouth, making the equally bewildered boy look at you in a daze, not sure of what to do. let’s just say in that moment two souls tied to one another, because from that day on you were inseparable.

school bleacher conversations were your thing now, whether it would be that you came to watch him practice or you would spend time together revising after school, enjoying the summer time, it was a habit that neither of you denied once it started. bike rides home were idle. you watched the sunset on the back of ryusei’s bike as he talked your ear off about another one of his shenanigans or arguments he had at his football practice despite you being there; he deemed it necessary that you understood his side of the story so those ‘wannabe pretty boys’ as he calls them, don’t try to sweep you off your feet by painting him out to be the bad guy one of these days. to which you would just roll your eyes at and continue listening to him with no sign of refusal.

time with shidou passed faster than you imagined, to the point where you only realised how bad your resolve had broken when your parents gave you the impending news.

moving away. again. except this time you weren’t as neutral. you had finally met someone you wanted to have around, someone who made your life better even without knowing. so like any other naive child you had straight up denied. you didn’t want to move, you wouldn’t move ( it didn’t work. ) So in your antsy frenzy, that night you had made sure to give something to your best friend that wouldn’t let him ever forget about you.

“ What's that ? ” the blonde asked with a curious glint in his eyes as he cotninued to snack on the sweet poki sticks. you replied by looking down, giving him the news. to which he took better than you expected, except from the pout adorning his face now. "Dumbass, why were you nervous to tell me ? ” you simply looked at him huffing “ well ryu’ you don’t exactly- ” but you don’t get to finish your sentence as he pats your head suddenly, “ and why would you think.. I would forget you.” he mumbles the last part more quietly, looking down at his lap with a conflicted look. hearing that, you couldn’t help the smile painting your face as you took his hand putting the morganite, handmade bracelet into his palm. the boy simply looks down at the sudden coldness he felt before immediately doubling down analysing the bracelet. “ I made it ! ” you exclaim proudly, showing off your wrist which had a matching one on. seeing that, he couldn’t help the blush coat his cheeks as he immediately put it on himself. “ ryu.. are your cheeks red right now ? “ you say in a teasing tone that easily gets shut down by him pulling you in a headlock ruffling your hair to which you can only squeal at, giggling as silly bickering erupts from both of your mouths.

That was a very long time ago, now at the prime age of seventeen you’re preparing for yet another new high school, in your third year. it sucked that you had to move in your final year but you reminded yourself that it isn’t something you hadn’t grown accustomed to. In the time of growing up you had met, adored and left a lot of people, yet the one that stuck to you the most was your one and only childhood best friend. moving in and out of Japan had you going insane, and as much as you wanted to keep in contact with everyone, you couldn’t manage it and gave up early on. shidou being no exception of that, which you greatly regretted. Each step you took on the strangely empty Tokyo streets towards your brand new school had you feeling nervous, it was like first grade all over again, every single time. you just couldn’t help the nervous feeling in your heart, especially since you are a third year at a new school, which is not a bad thing, just rare and attention inducing. you dreaded how the day would unfold immediately as you see the huge gates with the name in bold blue writing.

to your surprise your classes were not half as bad as you thought they would, homeroom was simple. you were glad third years here weren’t as curious and judgemental as you imagined. As you walked in, you were immediately greeted by a teacher who led you to the office. There you met your classmate and the student council president, Isagi Yoichi, who was nice enough to take you to your shared homeroom and even let you meet his friends later on after introducing yourself to the new class. now you were currently facing a predicament, due to you starting in the second week; you weren’t able to pick a club so now you, isagi, his best friends bachira, kurona and hiori whom were all your classmates were trying to figure out what club you could join. since it is mandatory. “ What if she joins as our manager ? I mean we don’t have one and it wouldn’t hurt. ” hiori says, trying to improve the defeated mood of the group. “ manager ? “ You say curiously, eyes focused on him, turning to bachira as he exclaims happily “ yea ! we’re all in the football team, isn’t that super duper fun !? ”

he says while putting his arms around the three other boys who just groan in response to his hyper behaviour. "You know what ? That doesn’t sound all too bad. “ you say with a hum as you noted down ‘football team manager’ on your notepad as one of your ideas. “ That's great ! then you can just come now since practice is about to end for the others ! ” yet again, bachira shouts joyfully, this time around getting up and joining your side immediately pulling you up to which you yelp to the sudden force as he just continues giggling pulling you over, leaving the other three boys just looking at each other before sighing and following along you and bachira. It seemed like a great idea before, amazing even but as you’re standing in front of the gym which was booming with noise you could only mentally curse for agreeing, crowds were not your thing; yet these days it’s all you’re a part of. “ It's fine ! Our team isn’t bad ! Even if some people are a bit questionable, they’re alright. “ isagi says, trying to reassure you despite only sparking your nerves more. as you take a step forward towards the door having mentally prepared yourself you immediately open the door while speaking to the four boys,

“ you’re right ! what could go so wrong aha. "

But as if the universe was watching you, ready to prove you wrong and you opened the door a ball is immediately in contact with your face. hard. groaning at the impact you immediately shut your eyes gripping your nose which you were sure was bleeding with how painful the hit felt ( it was not ! ). gasps immediately surround you as you are approached by isagi and bachira from behind you along with kurona and hiori who just look concerned. but before they can even speak, sudden steps approach you, slightly leaning down to your height,

“ Shoot, are ya’ okay ? ” and as if the interaction couldn’t get any weirder a sense of deja vu takes over you as you immediately look at the figure facing you with wide eyes. “ ryu? ” you mumble, shock taking over your senses as the pain you had just faced dilated. you notice his blonde spiky hair, with hot pink tips adorning it, the sharp eyeliner that complimented him even more, along with his freakish height, he had always been taller than you but now the difference seemed even more dramatic. shidou stares at you for a little while longer before finally putting the pieces together and calling out to you, “ n/n ? ” he mumbles, and it truly felt like the world had reduced to only you two as you stare into his eyes with a soft look, tears brimming slightly in your orbs as he immediately takes a hold of your shoulders hugging you tightly. you immediately hug him back, ignoring the awkward atmosphere that was created by your emotional reunion. you didn’t care. what matters most is you had met your best friend all over again, and you weren’t going to let him go again. The other guys could only stare in slight amusement and shock, seeing shidou’s usual fiery, rude, and unpredictable persona immediately crumble down with you was surely a sight to behold.

And with a promise of a hangout date, you were sent back out as the boys were told to go change. to which you were immediately bombarded with questions from your new classmates and few members of the team, “ so you and shidou are dating ? ” bachira asks innocently for the nth time. “ no you idiot," she clearly said that her and antenna freak were childhood best friends. If you had listened-” the two toned hair only booped the black haired male whom you had learnt his name was itoshi rin who only irked at bachira’s touch immediately chasing after him as they ran away from the rest of the group. “ Gotts to say.. you and Shidou are an interesting match. ” hiori says, his accent seeping through slightly, which you found endearing. “ Tell me about it. “ you reply with a sigh, a lazy smile playing on your lips

“ so, that’s y/n huh ? " the red head spoke up to the blonde as he was putting his jacket on. shidou could only mumble a ‘yes’ followed by a nod, looking down at the bracelet on his wrist. "She seems nice enough, treat her well. " sae adds with an amused smirk on his face. The blonde would be on cloud nine at the interaction with the male right now, however he could only smile before replying in the same soft-spoken tone he had welcomed you with.

"Of course I will. ”

𓏵˚˖𓍢ִ໋❀ ˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚

— songs I associated with this •.• !

- harvey, her’s

- over the moon, the marías

- impacto, enjambre

- you might be sleeping, clairo + jakob

- asa, the circus

- sesame syrup, cigarettes after sex

- every summertime - niki

[raineandsky]

#140

The hero rips the shop door clean off its hinges, and demands into the fleeing crowds, “Where’s the thief?”

People seem much too busy leaping out the way of the hero’s assault to answer him. He surveys the scattering crowds idly, waiting for his heroic senses to kick in and decide on someone amongst the masses. It does after a long second, locking in on someone darting for the back entrance, and the hero doesn’t waste time guessing whether his assumption is right.

The door batters off the wall loudly as the villain stumbles down the steps. Probably a favour to the shop—the hero’s already caused enough damage to the front door. He steps out as the villain runs across the car park. He just watches for a moment as he goes, humming a laugh as the man almost runs straight into one of the parked cars.

The hero isn’t in any rush. He always catches his prey. This may be the villain’s life on the line, but to the hero this is a simple game of cat and mouse.

He finally gives chase as the villain disappears around the corner. It’s not hard; the villain’s barely halfway down the road when the hero catches up to him. He cuts the thief off, bringing him to a skidding halt, but this isn’t capture to the villain—it won’t be until the hero has him practically unconscious, probably. The thief turns on his heel and leaps down a side-alley.

The hero always found it funny that these fiends still try to escape him, even after his reputation started to get around—he always catches criminals, and it’s always worse for those who think they can get away.

Clearly this one hasn’t heard the stories. The hero blocks his escape, grabbing onto his shirt so he doesn’t try doing a one-eighty again. The villain makes some noise that sounds a bit like, “Augh!”

“Nice try,” the hero snaps coldly. The villain looks terrified, for lack of a better word. “Now give me the stuff you’ve stolen.”

With shaking hands, the villain reaches into his coat. The hero tenses, prepared to snatch a weapon away, but after a moment of fumbling the villain presents him with a single apple.

“You should know better than to mess with a hero.” The hero tightens his hold on the other’s shirt. “Show me what you actually took.”

The villain pulls a pained face. “That- That’s it. That’s all I took. It was a grocery store, there wasn’t much else to take.”

He barks a laugh, once, awkward. The hero isn’t laughing. “They sent me after you for an apple.”

He can kind of see it now. His shirt is crumpled, his coat plain, his hair neat. The expression of a scared animal. The hero scowls—this isn’t a villain.

He gives the thief a shove, sending him stumbling back. He almost trips over a brick laying on the floor. The sight makes the hero feel even more tricked.

He holds his hand out expectantly. “Give me that.”

The civilian looks at the apple sitting in his palm. Then he sighs and puts it in the hero's expectant hold.

“There’s nearly no money going into this city,” he comments as the hero takes a bite. “None of us normal people can afford anything.”

“Get a better job then.”

“Not all of us can be heroes.”

The hero glances at him. It sounds like it’s bordering an insult but the man isn’t looking at him, so he simply hums in disinterest before heading back to the shop.

“Thank you!” the shopkeeper cries when the hero appears in the doorway. “Did you catch the thief?”

The hero takes another bite of his apple. “No,” he says flatly. “What’d he take?”

“Basically my whole shop!” The shopkeeper gestures vaguely to the shop behind her, which frankly looks more ransacked by the hero’s entrance than an actual thief. “He’s probably taken half my profits for this month with him.”

The hero nods idly. He’s only half listening—he’s busy reining in his annoyance. “Sorry he got away, then.” The apple crunches loudly into the following silence. “Better luck next time.”

“Thank you for trying. I’ve no doubt he’ll be back—I’ll call you then!”

The shopkeeper shouts that last part, since the hero’s already checked out of the conversation and is making his way to the shattered front door.

He can’t believe he got called out here for this. These common shop owners don’t seem to remember that heroes have better things to be doing than chasing petty thieves. He wrecks the last standing glass panel on his way out to make the point.

[thequeenofcurses]

Death of a Bachelor Part 2

The Wedding

summary: you're marrying the one and only special grade sorcerer: ryomen sukuna. wk: 5.1k (sry)

<- Part 1

Sukuna POV | 3:00 am

“You wouldn’t be doing this if you didn’t believe it was worth it,” Nanami’s words echoed in Sukuna’s head throughout the night, sneaking into his dreams. Was tying himself down, forever, really the right decision?

Sukuna tossed and turned before eventually he just sat up and threw his covers off of him. He didn’t bother to throw a shirt on and walked straight to the kitchen. Maybe some water will help. He chugged the glass then drank another and another, yet his head still remained foggy. Fuck. I’ve never felt like this before. What the hell is this?

Not wanting to bother waking you with a text or call, Sukuna unlocks his phone and types a message to the one person he can trust to talk to right now. His assistant.

Sukuna: I know you’re awake. You want to swing by? Uraume: No. Sukuna: I wasn’t asking Uraume: IT’S 3AM SUKUNA! Sukuna: Look I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t important, just get over here.

Ten minutes pass until Uraume’s short figure is knocking at Sukuna’s door. They quickly enter Sukuna’s security code and just walk through the door, finding a shirtless Sukuna downing another glass of water in his kitchen. 

“You made it,” Sukuna’s voice was lighter than his normal tone. You and Uraume are the only two people who get to see or hear that side of him. “I know it’s late, I just– ”

“Nervous?” Uraume concluded with a nod.

“I don’t get nervous.”

“Sure…” The silence was thick enough to slice through the air. “So, why was I summoned here at three am.”

“Stop acting like you weren’t already awake.”

“Maybe I was busy.”

“You don’t have a life,” Sukuna smirked. “I am your life.”

“Whatever,” the white haired assistant grumbled with an eye roll. They sat on a barstool near the kitchen island, arms together, waiting for an explanation. 

Sukuna paced. “I don’t want any more damn water, but –” he walked back and forth around his large kitchen. “I love y/n, I really do. But for the first time in my life, something is happening to me that I can’t just overcome with my raw strength or power. It’s… unsettling.”

Uraume raised an eyebrow, watching as Sukuna continued his pacing like a caged animal. “You’re unsettled because this isn’t something you can just fight your way through. You actually have to feel it.”

Sukuna stopped mid-step, scowling at them. “Tch. Don’t start getting all philosophical on me.”

Uraume shrugged. “Just saying. You’re afraid of something, and it sure as hell isn’t her.”

Sukuna exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair. “I’m not afraid.” The words came out too fast, too defensive. Even he could hear it. He turned, gripping the edge of the kitchen counter. “It’s just… different. No opponent. No enemy. Just me deciding to be with her. And no matter how strong I am, I can’t control the future.”

Uraume tilted their head. “So? You still want to marry her, don’t you?”

Sukuna’s jaw clenched. His thoughts flickered to you, your laughter, the way you challenged him without fear, your unmistakable otherworldly beauty, your strength, the way your nails dig into his back when he’s giving it to you so good. The way your touch softened the jagged edges of his world.

“…Yeah,” he admitted, his voice quieter now. “More than anything.”

Uraume smirked, standing up. “Then quit your bitching and go to sleep. You’ve got a long day ahead of you.”

Sukuna groaned. “You’re so damn annoying.”

“Just returning the favor.”After a hug and a promise to be early at the wedding, Uraume let themself out. Sukuna trugged back to his bed and tried to get some rest. He really did try. His mind was flooded with thoughts of you and the joy you bring him. From memories of how you two met, fighting curses together, your first date, to the moment he proposed to you.

Fuck it. I have to see her.

Your window was unlocked. Again. As frustrating as it was, you forgetting to lock it, Sukuna was glad he had an easy way to get inside your room. Damn it, woman he thought. You’re gonna be the death of me.

You’re mumbling in your sleep when the movement and sound of your blankets rustling cause you to wake. You blink back your tiredness, head still pounding from the previous night. It takes a few moments until you spot those iconic black tattoos. Sukuna had made his way into your bed.

“K-kuna?” you gasp confused. “What are you doing here?”

“I just,” he started. He gently placed a large hand on your head, running it through your hair. “I needed to see you.”

“You know, it’s bad luck to see a bride on the day of her wedding,” you joked. Your fingers curl around his wrist, holding him close as you nuzzle into his touch. “You okay?”

“Tch. Of course, I am,” he scoffs, but the way his thumb brushes against your cheek betrays his words.

You hum sleepily, watching his sharp eyes soften under the dim light. “You sure? Because I think you might be the one getting cold feet.”

Sukuna huffs a laugh, shaking his head. “You’re really testing me, sweetheart.”

You grin lazily. “Just making sure you’re not gonna ditch me at the altar.”

His grip tightens slightly, just enough to remind you of his strength. “I should be worried about you running off,” he mutters. “Wouldn’t put it past you to get second thoughts at the last second.”

You let out a soft giggle, shaking your head. “Not a chance.”

“Good.” There’s a flicker of something unreadable in his eyes before he leans down, pressing a lingering kiss to your forehead. “You better not change your mind, woman. If you leave me at the altar, I’ll burn the whole damn city down.”

Your body leans into him, so naturally. He gives you another kiss, this time on your mouth. And then another, each kiss getting more and more dominating. “I should take you right now. Make sure you know exactly who you belong to before you walk down that aisle.”

You gasp into his mouth, nodding at his offer. He’s already seen you. Your wedding luck can’t get any worse if you let him have his way with you. Each kiss of his seemingly takes your breath away. You're panting like an animal before Sukuna finally slows down, gripping the sheets instead. This isn’t the time, he thinks to himself.

As your breathing evens out, Sukuna pulls back, letting you lay on his chest. It only takes a few moments before you’re drifting off again and he’s watching the way your lips part slightly in sleep. His hand drags over your blankets before he finally pulls away, slipping out as quietly as he came. After seeing you, his head is clearer than ever. Once Sukuna reaches his home, he’s finally able to peacefully sleep.

The next time Sukuna opens his eyes, golden sunlight spills across his sheets, creeping up his bare chest like a silent reminder that today is the day.

For the first time in hours, he feels rested. No more restless pacing, no more unanswered questions. He knows what he wants. And in just a few hours, you’ll be his.

A sharp knock on the door pulls him from his thoughts.

“Get up,” Uraume’s voice cuts through the morning stillness. “It’s your wedding day.”

Sukuna exhales through his nose, running a hand down his face before swinging his legs over the edge of the bed. As soon as he opens the door, Uraume pushes past him, already assessing the situation with their usual cold efficiency.

"At least you don’t look like shit," they remark, scanning his face.

Sukuna smirks. “And here I thought you were gonna say something sentimental.”

“Why would I start now?” Uraume shoves a garment bag into his chest. “Shower then get dressed.”

Sukuna sighs but doesn’t argue. He strips out of his sweatpants and steps into the bathroom, quickly showering before putting on his crisp, custom-tailored suit waiting for him. Black and red, sleek, fitted to perfection, because of course, he refuses to look anything less than perfect. His hands move on instinct, buttoning the cuffs, adjusting the collar.

As he fastens the last button, Uraume watches him carefully. “You’re really doing this.”

Sukuna meets their gaze in the mirror. His reflection stares back, tattoos sharp against his skin, eyes burning with something rare and untamed.

“Yeah,” he murmurs. “I am.”

A rare, knowing smile tugs at Uraume’s lips. “Then let’s go. Can’t have your bride waiting.”

The ride to the shrine is quiet. Sukuna stares out the tinted window, fingers tapping idly against his knee. Uraume sits beside him, but neither of them speak. There’s nothing to say.

For the first time in years, he’s not walking into a battlefield. No enemies to kill, no grudges to settle. Just a shrine filled with people waiting for him to witness him make a promise he never thought he’d be the type to make.

The car slows to a stop just outside Meiji Jingu Shrine, its towering torii gate standing tall against the early morning sky. The sun filters through the dense forest surrounding the grounds, casting golden rays onto the stone pathways leading to the main shrine complex. The air is crisp, laced with the faint scent of cypress and incense.

As soon as Sukuna steps out, a familiar voice calls his name.

"Uncle Sukuna!"

He turns just in time to catch Yuji barreling toward him, weaving past guests and attendants. The kid skids to a stop right before impact, grinning up at him with the same bright-eyed excitement that always makes Sukuna sigh. Choso follows at a slower pace, his hands tucked into the sleeves of his formal kimono, his expression more reserved.

"You look cool," Yuji says, rocking on his heels. "Like, scary cool. But also, like… kinda groom-y."

Sukuna scoffs. "That supposed to be a compliment?"

Yuji nods enthusiastically. "Obviously."

Choso elbows him lightly. "Don’t be annoying." Then, turning to Sukuna, he hesitates before muttering, "You clean up well."

Sukuna raises a brow. "That’s the best I’m getting?"

Choso shrugs. "Yeah."

Tch. Brats.

Still, he ruffles Yuji’s hair, earning a squawk of protest, and nods at Choso in acknowledgment. This was it. His nephews, the only family he had. And somehow, knowing they were here made something settle in his chest.

"Alright," Uraume cuts in, ever the practical one. "It’s time."

Sukuna exhales slowly, rolling his shoulders. Then, without another word, he steps beneath the torii gate, following the path leading toward the main shrine, where the rest of his life is waiting.

The path toward the shrine is lined with guests, all of them bowing their heads in respect. Sukuna doesn’t care for the formalities, but he appreciates their sincerity. This isn’t a day for indulgence or power, this is something deeper. Something... personal.

Yuji and Choso follow closely behind him, their presence a reminder of why he's here. His nephews, his family. The only ones who ever mattered to him. Their voices barely audible above the murmur of the crowd, until they scramble off to find their seats.

The main shrine comes into view, an elegant structure framed by tall trees and hanging lanterns. The guests are seated in rows, faces mostly unfamiliar, though a few nod their heads in recognition as he approaches.

He can already feel the weight of all their eyes on him. The anticipation. The expectation.

Just before he reaches the steps leading to the shrine, he quietly hands Uraume a small velvet box from his pocket. They take it without question.

It felt absurd to be holding onto them – the rings. Marriage, commitment, wasn’t something he ever saw himself doing. But here he is, with his past behind him and a future he never expected waiting ahead.

As he ascends the stairs, his mind drifts to you. You’re just beyond these doors. Waiting.

He could hear the soft murmurs of the crowd, feel their gazes tracing his every movement.

There’s no turning back now.

The thought flickers across his mind, but before he can give it too much attention, Nanami’s voice cuts through his thoughts, clear and sharp: “You wouldn’t be doing this if you didn’t believe it was worth it.”

His lips curl into a smirk, but there’s no denying the truth in those words. He’s here because, despite everything he’s done, everything he’s been through, this matters.

He doesn’t know when it happened, when you became more than just a fleeting moment in his life. The woman who challenged him. Who made him feel things he couldn’t control.

It doesn’t matter.

Sukuna steps inside the shrine, his heart thrumming in his chest, loud enough for him to hear it over the soft sounds of the ceremony music.

Nanami’s words echo again, not just in his mind, but in the space around him. The weight of the promise he’s about to make settles in with a gravity he can’t ignore.This is worth it. For you.

The moment the ceremony begins, Sukuna stands at the altar, his gaze momentarily flickering toward the door. The air is thick with anticipation, and the soft rustle of the crowd fades into a distant hum. Then, like a dream unfolding before his eyes, you step into the doorway, framed by the soft glow of the temple’s sacred light.

Your wedding dress is a vision of elegance, designed to make even the most confident man lose his composure. The black and red fabric hugs your body in all the right places before cascading into a soft, layered skirt that flows gracefully as you move. The lace is so soft, almost translucent, a whisper of romance in every stitch. The long, flowing train drags gently behind you, catching the light with each step, creating an almost dreamlike aura as you make your way toward Sukuna.

His breath catches in his throat the second his eyes land on you, and for a moment, the world around him blurs. His heart beats a little faster, more erratically than usual, as if the weight of the moment has hit him all at once. You're breathtaking. This vision of you in this dress, is nothing like anything he ever imagined. He can’t look away, his sharp red eyes drinking in the sight of you as though he's afraid this moment will slip away if he dares to blink.

Sukuna can’t help but feel a tightness in his chest as he watches you approach, the red veil adding to your allure, making the moment feel all the more surreal. This woman, walking towards him, is no longer just the one who challenged him: she is the one who has captured his heart in a way he never thought possible.

You walk toward him, and despite the crowd’s presence, it feels like it’s just the two of you in the room. His fingers twitch at his sides, aching to pull you into his arms, but he remains still, unable to tear his gaze away. His heart swells with pride, love, and an emotion he rarely allows himself to feel so fully. You are his everything.

On your slow descent toward the love of your life, you hear lots of happy chants and whistles from your co-workers. The loudest of them all being from the one and only Satoru Gojo. You shake your head at his aloofness and keep your composure.

When you reach the altar, Sukuna’s hand finally moves, the tremor in his fingers betraying his usual confident demeanor. He reaches out for you, his thumb brushing against your hand as if confirming you're really here, with him, in this moment. The dress, the ceremony, everything fades as he pulls you closer, his eyes never leaving yours.

"You're perfect," Sukuna mutters under his breath, a soft growl of appreciation that somehow, only you can hear. There's a flicker of something deep in his eyes, something tender, something real. His lips press together in a firm line as he forces himself to maintain his composure, but the awe in his expression is undeniable.

Like a deadly silent ninja, Uraume quickly sneaks past the old priest to hand him the rings then back to their seat. 

The priest smiles, happily accepting them. The soft murmur of the crowd fades into silence as you and Sukuna stand facing each other, hands clasped tightly. 

“We gather today to witness the union of y/n and Sukuna under the guidance of the kami," the short man starts. "Let us call upon the divine spirits to bless this marriage.” The man opens up the box with the rings, then gestures for you and Sukuna to take them. He nods, signalling for you two to state your vows.

The weight of the moment hangs between you; this promise, these words, are more than just tradition. They're a reflection of everything you've both experienced, everything you’ve shared, and everything that lies ahead.

Sukuna’s gaze doesn’t waver from you as he begins, his voice steady but filled with depth, “I won’t lie and say I always believed in something like this. In love, in a promise like marriage. But you, Y/N… you’re different. You’ve turned everything I knew upside down. You’ve made me want to be someone better. So today, I vow to you, with everything I am, that I will never stop fighting for you.” He takes your ring and slides it onto your finger.

His voice drops lower, softer, yet the intensity of his words cuts through the air like a blade, sharp and true. “I vow to protect you, no matter the cost. To shield you from the world, and to make sure that, for as long as I breathe, nothing comes between us. You are mine, and I am yours. And I will never, ever let you go. Even if the world itself crumbles, I will stand by your side.”

He pauses, his eyes softening as they meet yours. For a brief moment, you catch the flicker of vulnerability in them, something raw, something real. He inhales, then continues, his words heavy with sincerity, “I vow to stand by your side, not just as your husband, but as your equal. To never let you feel alone, to always listen when you speak, and to give you everything I have. My loyalty, my strength, and all my love.”

Your heart thumps in your chest, a rush of emotions surging through you. Sukuna, the same man who once swore he’d never be tied down, now stands before you, giving you these promises, words that hold weight far beyond what any ring or ceremony could represent. The tears you are fighting so hard to keep back start to overflow, softly drifting down your cheeks.

His lips curl into a rare, soft smile, one only you could elicit, and he finishes, his voice steady but imbued with something deeper than words, “I vow to be yours in every way, now and forever.”

The crowd stays silent, but you feel the energy of the moment, the promise that is now sealed between you both.

You take a deep breath, feeling the gravity of what you’re about to say, and when you speak, your voice is clear and unwavering, despite the emotions swirling inside you. “I used to believe that love was just a word, a concept meant to keep people tied to promises they couldn’t keep. But then you came into my life, and everything changed. You showed me that love isn’t just about words or gestures. It’s about the actions, the choices we make, every single day.”

You take his ring and slide it onto his finger, your hands trembling slightly. “So today, I vow to you that I will stand by you, in the good and the bad, when the world is bright and when it’s dark. I vow to never give up on us, no matter the challenges we face. I promise to face them with you, because together, we’re unstoppable.”

You take another breath, meeting his eyes with a fierce sincerity. “I vow to love you, with everything I have, every single day. To choose you, even when it’s hard, and to never let go of what we’ve built. I promise to be your strength when you falter, your peace when the world is too much, and your home, always.”

A brief moment of silence passes between you, as if the weight of your words is sinking in, deep into your hearts. 

“I vow to honor you, not just as my husband, but as my equal, my partner, my family,” you whisper, your eyes never leaving his. “I’ll never let you feel unimportant, never let you feel alone. You’re the reason I can face the future with hope. And I’ll do everything I can to make sure you never have to face it without me by your side.”

Sukuna’s breath catches at the weight of your words, and for a moment, you both are lost in each other’s gaze—the vows hanging in the air, binding you together forever.

Finally, the old priest smiles, his voice soft as he claps and says, “You have both expressed your vows, your promises to each other. By the power vested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife!”

The crowd exhales in unison, the sound of applause echoing through the shrine, but all Sukuna hears is the steady rhythm of his heart. Out of the corner of his eye, Sukuna sees Geto throwing his fist into the air and Gojo waving a sign that says “Death of a Bachelor.” (Gojo’s handwriting is abysmal)

Without hesitation, Sukuna’s hand tightens around yours, and he leans down, pushing back your veil, pulling you close. His lips meet yours in a kiss that’s anything but soft. It’s rough, commanding, and filled with the intensity of everything he’s promised. It’s a kiss that doesn’t hold back, just as he never does. The passion behind it burns hot, sealing the vows with the raw, undeniable force of his love. The tenderness he’s capable of is there, but it’s wrapped in the fierceness that defines him: no hesitation, no doubt.

For a brief moment, time stands still, the kiss, everything and nothing all at once, and you know, without a shadow of a doubt, that this is real. This is your forever.

The after-party began immediately, the transition from ceremony to celebration seamless. After a few obligatory photos, some formal, some candid (and more than a few where Sukuna looked like he was barely tolerating the process), he wasted no time leading you to the dance floor, his grip firm yet possessive around your hand.

The guests expected the first dance to be a typical “slow, romantic, something traditional” type song. Instead, the opening chords of Metallica's "Nothing Else Matters" echoed through the venue, the deep, familiar melody sending a ripple of surprise through the crowd.

You looked up at Sukuna, half amused, half touched. Of course, he'd do something unexpected. And yet, as he pulled you into his arms, swaying with effortless confidence, you knew there wasn’t a song more fitting for the two of you.

Your hands slid up to rest behind his neck, fingers tracing the short hairs at his nape. He held your waist, guiding you with an ease that made it feel as if you'd danced together a thousand times before. The world faded away as you moved in sync, each step, each turn, every brush of your bodies speaking a language only the two of you understood.

Sukuna leaned in, his breath warm against your ear as he murmured along with the song, his voice husky and deliberate. “No, nothing else matters.”

Your chest tightened, your heart swelling with so much joy it felt like it might burst. You tilted your head back just enough to meet his gaze, and the look in his eyes made your stomach flip. There was no one else in this moment. Just you and him.

When the song ended, a small, energetic pink blur rushed toward you.

"Uncle Sukuna, dance with me!" Yuji beamed up at him, his excitement boundless as he tugged on his sleeve. Behind him, Choso and Nanami approached, both at a more measured pace, Nanami looking like he wasn’t quite sure how he ended up here.

Sukuna let out a dramatic sigh, shaking his head. "Tch. You’re lucky I’m in a good mood, brat."

Yuji just grinned wider, grabbing his hand and pulling him onto the dance floor. The sight of Sukuna, formidable, untouchable Sukuna, humoring a child in the middle of his own wedding made your heart swell even more. Even Choso looked a little softer as he stood beside you, watching his little brother with something close to fondness.

Maybe someday you can have your own child with him.

You used the moment to mingle, accepting congratulations from guests, exchanging a few teasing words with Utahime, and even sharing a drink with Shoko and Nanami, who looked vaguely exhausted, but resigned to the festivities.

Eventually, Sukuna found his way back to you, as if drawn by an invisible thread, like he couldn’t stand to be away from you for too long. His hands found your waist, pulling you against him as he leaned down, his lips ghosting over your ear.

“It’ll be time for us to go soon,” he murmured, his voice low and promising. “I’ve got plans for us.” The smirk he wore was nothing short of sinful, and the heat in his eyes sent a shiver down your spine.

Your fingers curled into his jacket, eyes narrowing in playful suspicion. “What kind of plans?”

Sukuna chuckled, his grip tightening just enough to make you feel it. “You’ll find out soon enough, sweetheart.”

And with that, the night continued, filled with laughter, stolen kisses, and the unshakable certainty that no matter what came next, you were exactly where you were meant to be.

As the night stretched on, laughter and music filled the air, the energy never waning. But soon, the time came for the final part of the evening: the send-off. 

Surprisingly, Mei Mei had volunteered to help pack your honeymoon wardrobe. Probably, because she got to shop for everything herself, and the world knows that woman can shop.

Someone, probably Uraume, had rallied the guests to gather outside, lining the grand pathway leading to the sleek, black car waiting at the end. Lanterns and soft golden lights illuminated the space, casting a warm glow over the night. The atmosphere buzzed with excitement as everyone took their place, sparklers in hand, the flickering embers mirroring the stars overhead.

Sukuna stood beside you, his arm draped over your shoulders in a loose but possessive hold. He watched the scene with a raised brow, clearly unimpressed by the theatrics. "Tch. Is all this really necessary?"

You laughed, nudging him lightly. “Let them have their fun. It’s not every day the mighty Sukuna gets married.”

His smirk was sharp as he leaned in. “Not every day someone makes me want to.”

The moment the two of you stepped forward, the crowd erupted into cheers. Sparks danced in the air as the sparklers lit up the path, and you felt the heat of Sukuna’s palm as he laced his fingers with yours. He led you forward, your steps slow at first, taking in the smiling faces, the warmth, the love that surrounded you.

Yuji and Ino were the loudest, waving their sparklers aggressively. Nanami stood off to the side, his nod of approval as subtle as ever. Uraume watched from the distance, arms crossed, but their lips twitched slightly, almost like they were proud.

Gojo, of course, was the most obnoxious.

“MY BOY! LOOK AT HIM!” He whistled loudly, practically bouncing on his feet. “DIDN’T THINK I’D LIVE TO SEE THE DAY!”

Shoko, standing beside him with a drink in hand, smirked. “I give it six months before she realizes what a pain in the ass he is.”

Mei Mei hummed in amusement. “I would’ve put money on him staying a bachelor forever. Guess love really does make fools out of us all.”

Geto chuckled from beside her, arms crossed. “If nothing else, it’ll be entertaining to see him domesticated.”

Sukuna acted as if he hadn’t heard any of them, but you felt the way his fingers flexed slightly around yours, the way his grip tightened like he was restraining himself from turning around and making very impolite comments.

Halfway down the path, Sukuna suddenly stopped. Before you could ask why, he turned to face you, eyes gleaming with something dark and unreadable. Then, in front of everyone, he grabbed you by the waist and pulled you into a deep, searing kiss, one meant to remind you, and everyone watching, exactly who you belonged to.

The crowd lost it.

Yuji let out a dramatic groan. “OH COME ON! GET A ROOM!”

Gojo cheered obnoxiously. “YEAH! THAT’S MY KING!” He clapped loudly, nudging Geto. “Tell me that wasn’t the smoothest shit you’ve ever seen.”

Geto sighed, shaking his head with a smirk. “I hate that I agree with you.”

Shoko rolled her eyes, raising her drink. “Cheers to that poor woman. She’s in for a lifetime of that.”

A mixture of cheers, whistles, and dramatic groans (most likely from Yuji) filled the air. When he pulled back, Sukuna looked maddeningly pleased with himself. “Had to make sure they know you're mine before I take you away.”

Your breath was shaky, but you managed to roll your eyes. “Pretty sure they already know.” You wave your hand with the wedding ring and wiggle your fingers.

With that, he led you the rest of the way to the car. The door was held open, and before you could so much as settle in, Sukuna was right beside you, his hand already back on your thigh. The car pulled away, the glow of the sparklers fading into the distance, and with it, the last remnants of the wedding night.

Sukuna exhaled, finally alone with you. His fingers traced slow circles over your skin. “You ready for the real fun to begin?”

Your stomach fluttered, anticipation thick in the air. “I should be asking you that.”

His grin was sharp, dangerous. “Oh, sweetheart. You have no idea what you're in for.”

And with that, your honeymoon truly began.

<- Part 1

A/N I meant for this to be short, but I got carried away writing. I hope you guys enjoy the fluff though <3 Only one more chapter left of this story :)

not sure if you wanted to be tagged but just in case you did: @moonchhu

masterlist | jjk masterlist

[papasbaseball]

The Wizard x Reader (Wonderful Wonderful Girl) | Chapter 18

Pairing: Wizard x F!Reader

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Power Imbalance, Boss/Employee Relationship, Graphic Depictions of Violence, Sexual Content, Spanking

Summary: Being a maid in the Royal Palace of Oz is not half so bad. Despite the meager wages, everything else is provided for you for an honest day's work. It can be unnerving working for the most powerful man in Oz, but you are able to avoid him most of the time. This changes during Lurlinemas, your paths soon becoming inextricably intertwined.

Word Count: 2,565 of 47,525

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AO3 Link

There are forty-seven steps between leaving the Upland Estate and killing Fiyero. The rest of the War Council has cleared out except for General Minkus, the Wizard, Madame Morrible, Tomathy, and me. The meeting and plans are on a strict need-to-know basis: no need for financial backers or anyone else that might let something slip from loose lips. The Wizard doesn't let me out of his grip the entire time, pulling me closer at any mention of possible danger.

"There isn't much cover," General Minkus says, sweeping his index finger down the straight railroad markings. "The train has been shut down, but the dirt road is still open. Over here, to the west, that's where they have their base camp set up. It's sheltered by some hillocks. They've set up some spike barricades here and here." His finger points to two hillocks that butt up to the walls of the Emerald City and dovetail perpendicularly together to form a triangle... except for a narrow sliver of a valley between them.

"One way in, one way out," I say.

"It's a good thing you sprained your wrist," Minkus says, pointing to the dirty bandages. The Wizard tightens his grip around my waist. "You sure Fiyero has a soft spot for you? The wounded animal ploy will only work if he wants to help."

"I'm sure," I say. It's a lie. Nothing was certain anymore

General Minkus looks to the Wizard. "He might take her as collateral if he thinks it'd make you surrender faster. We'd have to cut our losses."

"Yeah, well it won't come to that," The Wizard says, pulling me more to the side of him, away from the general. "We're going to be running scouts along the perimeter. She takes her time to go outside of camp to.... uh..." He waves his hand, and I try not to be embarrassed by what he’s implying in front of the most important people in Oz. "And we make sure she's okay. We’ll do it every day until she kills him, and then we’ll get her out immediately"

"It might be dangerous if we meet up immediately," I say. "I think we should give it two days. He's going to be watching my every move."

General Minkus nods at this. "She's right. If I were Fiyero, I wouldn’t even trust a known ally if they walked in halfway through a war. I wouldn't take my eyes off them. It’s been a week since the Lurlinemas ball."

"I don't care for this at all," the Wizard says. "Isn't there some other way? This… It just seems too risky. We've got the five thousand."

"Five thousand was good yesterday,” General Minkus says, “when our inside resources were twice as strong. With the barricades they've got set up, we're going to need everything we can get on them, including inside intel, maybe even a distraction."

"Or kidnapping," I say, grabbing the Wizard's arm. "I could seduce him out into an open area where it would just be him and me, and then you could take him hostage. It would put the war to an immediate end."

Oscar looks down at me with a chastising look of doubt, and I think for a brief moment I see his eyes darken at the thought of me seducing Fiyero at all. Best to be more mindful.

There's a knock on the doorway, and we all turn to see a blonde woman so thin and petite she could have been blown away with a strong breeze. She’s dressed all in pink, with a ridiculous arrangement of rose-colored ostrich feathers in her blonde hair. This must be Lady Upland, but it can't be: she's much younger than the woman in the portrait that hung in the office.

"Oh! So sorry," she says, her voice high and soft as a wind chime. "Auntie Lorinda didn't say anything about guests. It's so nice to meet you all." She offers a white gloved and thin hand in greeting, but startles when she notices General Minkus. "Oh!"

General Minkus says, "Miss-"

"Galinda," she says with a smile, crossing the room to offer her hand to him.

"Miss Galinda, this is a confidential meeting."

"How perfect! I just love meeting confident new people, They make life more exciting." Giving up on her vanishing goal of shaking the General's hand, she snaps in a pivot to me. "Don't you think so?"

I offer my hand to her, hoping not to call any attention to the private information behind her on the map. She takes my hand, and wraps her other hand around the back of mine, saying, "You know, I can tell a lot about a person just by saying hello." She stares into my eyes, narrowing hers. I think she's doing it to avoid blinking, to better stare all the way through me. "You've been traveling for days," she says, nodding her head. I nod with her, trying to play along. "Something tragic happened. You've been hurt recently." I try to steady my breathing, as if that will stop any reddening in my cheeks. Were the Wizard and I really that loud in the office? She grabs my injured wrist suddenly, gasping, "Oh! How horrible!"

"Are you a doctor?" I ask. How had I managed to turn this war meeting into a meet and greet?

"Me?" she says, blinking in disbelief. "No. Why? Do I look like one?"

"Ms. Galinda," Tomathy says, approaching us from the other side of the map table.

"Yes?" she replies with a cock of her head. Whatever image I had of her being taken away by a gust of wind was false. She was a perky pink parakeet, the way she chirped and flit with each new passing thing that caught her attention.

"You said that you knew she had been traveling for days. That's quite a remarkable observation."

"Oh, not really," she says with a laugh. "It's just the way..." she swallows and gives a nervous, high-pitched laugh. "Even if you all are confident people, it would be rude."

Tomathy smiles broadly. I think it is supposed to be an affable smile, but on him, it is always frighteningly toothy. "You're Lady Upland's niece, yes?"

Whatever faux pas she had imagined in her brain, it is now washed away and Galinda the parakeet is back. "Yes. I'm up here for Lurlinemas. I didn't know that she would have more guests. I heard you all talking up here, and I thought it was family, but, well, friends or family it makes no difference. The more, the merrier, right?"

"Of course, of course," Tomathy reassures her, putting an arm around her bird-boned shoulder. He takes me in his other arm, and I feel Oscar tense for the briefest of moments before he lets me go. "We're all here for Lurlinemas with Lady Upland, but your words got me to thinking."

"Yes?" Galinda says as we are escorted out of the library.

"My friend here, we can't have her looking like she's been traveling for days. Not on Lurlinemas."

"Oh. Oh, no!" Galinda agrees, grabbing his arm in excitement.

"Is there anyway you could make her look like she's ready for the best Lurlinemas party that anyone has ever thrown?"

Galinda gasps, and quickly hops out of his grasp. "I know it! I know just what to do! Stay here! I'll be right back. I- My luggage – oh, my luggage – it's downstairs. I'll..." She snaps in a pivot and is off flying down the foyer stairs.

"What in the name of Oz was that?" Tomathy breathes as he watches her hop across the white marble foyer on her pink parakeet legs.

"Lady Upland's niece, I'd say," Oscar says, scratching his cheek.

"How'd she know about the accident?" Tomathy asks.

"I don't know," Oscar says, "but I'm curious to see what else she's seeing that we're not."

________________________

We spend the rest of the day succumbing to Galinda's fashion whims, as she picks and prunes me into nearly what I looked like the night of the party.

When the night comes to a close, an Upland maid escorts us to our rooms. Oscar pulls me into his with an excuse that I am his personal valet and a generous tip to the maid (probably to keep her mouth shut).

"What happened to me being your daughter?" I ask after he closes the door. The room is dark, but rays of moonlight throw silvery shapes onto the cream carpet of the guest-of-honor room.

"If you want to call me daddy, I'm not going to stop you," he says, tossing his jacket onto one of the pale rococo chairs up against the wall. "One last night together. We can do whatever you want."

"You're not still mad from earlier?" I ask.

He walks through the moonbeams, letting them paint excitement onto the boring brown waistcoat and pants. I watch in envy as they trace his body, eager to let my fingers do the same in these last few hours of familiarity.

"Are you talking about the spanking?" he asks. "I wasn't mad. I just had to-"

"You were mad," I stop him. "It was wrong, but I knew it would make you mad to bring Fiy- him up. I could see it in your eyes."

He steps closer, shrouding himself in darkness once more, the ghostly glow kissing his cheeks and the silver stubble of his beard. "It doesn't matter if I'm mad or not," he says quietly, "we... I have a nation to run. Consequences are consequences."

I take his hand, admiring the taut skin of a foreign palm under my fingertips. Bringing it to my lips, I kiss a small scar on the side of his thumb. "What's the consequence of that?"

Our hands together come up to touch my face as he stoops to kiss me. His tongue tastes like warm cinnamon, and I remember looking over at him during Galinda's Great Big Fashion Makeover as she was slipping a green velvet dress onto me. His eyes were wolfish as he hollowed and unhollowed his cheeks, his tongue tossing a cinnamon candy he had grabbed out of a complimentary dish. Now, his tongue plunged into me, slipping warmly against mine in a plea as he pressed me closer to him, stomach to stomach, his fingers threading into my hair.

"Is it so severe?" I ask, breaking the kiss.

"Yes," he growls, picking me up so that I can wrap my legs around him. He walks us to the fluffy and overly-beaded and pillowed white bed, and kneels on it, careful in laying us down on the opulent quilt.

"What are we going to do?" I ask. The question could be about anything, really. I think, in the moment, I want the world to stop. I don't want the sun to rise, I don't want Oz to have a leader. Why can't it just be me and Oscar in the warmth of a stranger's home, tangled in an embrace without any fighting?

"Don't ask those kind of questions," he says, kissing my neck, biting but quickly releasing it before he ruins the carefully curated image we had prepared. "We'd better get you out of this dress, put it somewhere safe." He turns me over, dragging the zipper down slowly. The zipper comes to a stop, and he asks me to sit up before helping me shoulder off the velvet sleeves. He stares at my bare breasts, watching as I get up from the bed and let the rest of the dress drop to the floor.

"You said I could have anything I want," I say, standing there naked in the moonlight. I step out of the dress and throw it haphazardly into the chair with his jacket. "I want you."

"You have me."

"No, not the Wizard of Oz," I say. "I want Oscar. Show me who you are. No mechanical heads, no magic."

"No, you don’t," he says.

"Let me meet him and see for myself," I say quietly.

I go back to the bed and straddle him where he's sat on the edge, my hands sinking into the soft and curly white of his hair. My lips meet his in a gentle kiss that doesn't last. Oscar doesn't have the patience or will to conceal the need to fuck me, to claim me. The cinnamon of his tongue is a taste of how he paints with movements and touches: a violent red that is all-consuming, a warning of an overwhelming and dangerous lust made of clawing and scraping teeth. His mouth finds my neck and the plan to keep me as pristine as possible is gone as he inhales the scent of my neck in between painful kisses. "I don't want you to go," he breathes.

I push him onto the bed, rocking my hips against his pants and his hardened cock beneath them. "I want you to make me forget all of it," I say, kissing him. "I need you."

"Yes," he says. “Whatever you want.” He grabs me and flips us. Ridding us of the rest of our clothes, he then has me pinned to the bed by my wrists, sinking his cock into me.

"Oscar," I gasp.

"Shhh," he says, kissing me. His hips set a steady pace, not hard, but careful enough to catch the places within me that pull my back from the bed in an act of magic. He's true to his word, because as he pins me to the bed and takes me, I don't think about the war or the kidnapping or any of it. I can only focus on how I can’t move my wrists in his grip, the way his stubble pricks my lips in between the bites and lashes of tongue, the way he seems to alter the arc of his hips if I moan a certain way.

I feel the thread of pleasure tighten, and I struggle in his hands, fighting for anything to grab onto as his grip tightens even further around my wrists until I cry out in pain.

"Feel it," he pants. "Let it take over you. You can handle it."

A strangled bleat escapes my throat as I struggle against my restraints, desperate for any kind of tension to avoid feeling the full gluttony of pleasure that snaps within me. I need to rake my nails against his skin, grab fistfuls of quilt, anything to not bear the sickening sweetness that he has brought upon me as I feel my walls clenching around him again and again.

He pulls out before he can spill inside me. Warm spurts of cum land on my stomach, accompanied by his gasps. He stares at the way the moonlight falls on how he has marked me, his shining chest heaving from the effort, before falling down next to me.

"I like it better when you cum in me," I say, laying a hand on his still-heaving chest.

"I had to," he breathes with shut eyes.

"I know we haven’t talked about it,” I say, “but if it’s about me getting pregnant-"

"No," he says, pulling me closer so I can rest my head against the warm and sweaty skin of his chest. A smattering of silver hairs tickle my cheek and mouth with each rise and fall of breath. "Just... had to. That's all."

[evienyx]

Hello! I adore your Concord fic so so much, to the point that it's actually now my favorite Sonic fic. Your characterization for Shadow is fantastic and I'm right there with you in thinking that movie Shadow wouldn't hide how much he likes Sonic or be mean to him, not after how much they bonded on the moon and during the fight afterward. Actually, your characterization for everyone is very on point, and Sonic is an absolute delight. I'm so sad that he and Maria never got to be friends for real, because Shadow (and you) is 100% right that they'd get along like a house on fire lol

Anyway, there's a song that I think fits Shadow and Sonic in Concord perfectly, and I wanted to share it with you! It's called "Stargazing" by Myles Smith, and I think it's especially fitting for this latest two chapters. :3

Also, I don't know much about the Superbowl, but I'm told that they do a lot of cool stuff during it other than just the game and that people have parties and stuff when they watch it, so I hope you had a fun time!

One of the most important things for this fic for me was making sure that the characterization for Shadow was Movie Shadow and not Games Shadow.

Now, of course, Movie Shadow is an adaptation of Game Shadow, there are a lot of similarities. However, his backstory is different, and more importantly his dynamic with Sonic is different. If we're being totally honest, in the movies at least, they don't even have the rivalry thing going on (yet at least). They were legit just straight-up enemies (reluctantly on Sonic's side until Shadow almost killed Tom and Sonic decided to lock in) until the conversation on the Moon, and from there they are (oddly in-sync) allies.

This is not to say I love Movie Shadow more than Game Shadow, I love the both of them for different reasons. Nor do I love Movie Sonadow more than Game Sonadow. They're both wonderful, and both have so much potential. It is very different potential from one another. Game Sonic would have to work double time to get that conversation out of Game Shadow compared to Movie Sonic who had it in all of two seconds. This is fine, and lovely to explore on its own, but it is important to me to acknowledge the difference and write these stories with the difference in mind.

I do plan on writing more fics for them, because oh lord this ship is so fun, and there are so many things that can be done with them. Obviously we've already got the more angsty fic that I'm planning for after Concord finishes (I'll release the first chapter on the same day as the last chapter of Concord), but even more than that I've got a few too many ideas sitting on a doc. I've got ideas for the movies, for the games, and even ones for complete AU fics that would probably use a blend of their personalities from both. I'm mentally ill.

Anyway, holy mother of god are you right about that song fitting them. It's actually kinda ridiculous, and makes me wish that I could draw at all because there is nothing I want more now than an animatic of the two of them with that song for this fic. I'm gonna be sick, thank you.

And, uh, yeah, the Superbowl has got kinda three big parts to it: Game, Half-Time, Commercials. The Game is the big final NFL American football game for the season to see who's the best team. It's the last game in the playoffs. Half-Time is when they have a super famous musical artist do a fifteen-ish minute show during the break that comes after the first half of the game. The Commercials are whatever ads play when you're watching at home, and they used to be really good, big productions with like storylines and stuff, but this year they weren't all very good, and I suspect it might be the use of A.I. but you didn't hear that from me.

I'm not a fan of either of the teams that were in the Superbowl this year (the Philadelphia Eagles and the Kansas City Chiefs), but I only vaguely dislike the Eagles and I really hate the Chiefs, so I was perfectly happy to see the Eagles win. Any love toward them is gone now that the game is over, though, and I am back to solely wanting to see my own team win.

[sufferu]

This isn't really an ask, and more of a way to compliment your works, but I want to say that I really like the way you're approaching your RBD reveal fics, mainly Dogshow and no Refunds, particularly because of the way you've managed to capture the casts very messy and complicated emotions in regard to the situation and the new earth shattering revelations they've just had dropped on them out of nowhere. These people are having their understanding of themselves and their relationships entirely recontextualized, in one of the most fucked up ways possible, and they're acting accordingly to that. Characters opinions of not just Subaru change, but also their views of themselves and each other change. Nobody feels like they have the same opinion or perspective. Things aren't just brushed over or put to the side, things don't go back to normal as if nothing happened, and you've managed to show the seriousness of the situation in a way that feels new and refreshing.

Speaking of brushing over, that's another thing I really like: the characters actions in past loops aren't forgotten, and neither is the severity of some of the things they've done. Neither by themselves or the other characters, and that's something I appreciate a lot. Because it's always been weird to me, the insane double standard you often see sometimes in this fandom, for people completely and unironically, to defend some of the shit that the other characters did and act like they were right for it. Just as Subaru isn't right or correct when he acts badly due to his accumulated trauma, even if it may or may not be understandable at times, neither are the other characters (who have done waaay worse things than he has) when they act out or do bad things due to their bad experiences. It's one thing to like the characters or forgive them, it's another to act like they were in the right. Even the characters themselves wouldn't defend the things they did.

Also, the ''what the fuck'' reactions to Subaru, not only for RBD, but also who he is as a person, are the best. One of the things I like reading about the most.

This is really nice to hear, thank you! And I’ll say it: that exact criticism is pretty much WHY I decided to go and write my own react fic, lol. I feel like a lot of those types of fics in this fandom are a little too concerned with maintaining the likability of the characters being shown and/or maintaining the status quo to some degree, and that leads to a lot of implications, actions, and reveals being downplayed significantly more than I feel I would like. Even aside from feeling…a little unrealistic, I honestly see it as a missed opportunity. There’s so much potential drama to be dug up there and we’re NOT going for it?? C’mon.

And it’s even funnier when, like, they’re being as hard/nearly as hard on Subaru as the narrative is (especially in early Arc 3) and — Ram murdered someone in cold blood to keep her sister’s conscience clean. Garfiel kidnapped a guy and held him hostage in a cave for three days straight. Rem TORTURED that same guy for literal hours, fueled at least in part by a sadistic desire to see him suffer as penance for a past crime he ended up being not even remotely involved in. Meanwhile, Subaru’s worst sin is being a brat, and HE gets all the heat?? It makes sense when he’s the protagonist and therefore the main focus of the narrative, but in a react fic when everyone’s seeing him alongside everyone else it just doesn’t fit lmao.

Anyway — glad you’re enjoying it! I hope you continue liking it lmao, hoping to have more out very soon!

[c1trvswurld]

Being bigender or just multigender period is so funny because both in queer and non queer spaces you are ostracized. Your womanhood only recognized when someone wants to be infantilizing and demeaning, wants to put you on a pedestal for different selfish reasons. Your manhood only recognized when someone wants to demonize and push you out of queer spaces, make you a threat that has to be squashed.

[seddair]

,

[bitegore]

baru cormorant seems to me to be a series that suffers miserably for me having read machineries of empire first. unfortunately everything BC is doing strikes me as something MoE did better and more believably and with much a greater and more grounded eye for how systems, complex system interaction, and oppression like. work

[casiavium]

[inbabylontheywept]

i did wrestling in middle school. on one hand, i was actually quite good at it, which was nice. being good at any sport was a new achievement for me. on the other hand, i was bi, and i was trying very hard not to notice that i was bi, and getting folded into knots by very kind, very muscular dorks made that task somewhat difficult.

adding fire to the problem was that my parents and my grandparents wanted to watch my matches, because they were very proud that their Gangly Nerd Son was actually Sporting, and they wanted to cheer me on. which would've been sweet and all, but if there are four people you do not want there during a key part of your Burgeoning Sexual Awakening, it is your mom and your dad and your grandma and your grandpa.

right? i mean, imagine some guy's got your head in his armpit, and you're going you know, old sweat smells bad, but fresh sweat has a sort of and then you make eye contact with your grandpa in the stands and you remember you're swearing spandex so if you pop a boner people aren't just going to be able to see the outline, they're going to be able to count the veins, and the only way you will be able to restore your family's honor after that would be by moving to siberia and renouncing joy, forever. that, or lift your entire body up by your kneck then twist 180 degrees without paralyzing yourself.

it’s a lot of pressure, is what i’m saying.

still it did motivate me to win my matches really fast. because i was so tall and skinny, i was stupidly good at the double leg takedown, and then once someone was knocked down, i'd just do the half nelson and kind of flip em over for the pin. then the ref would count to three and i’d win. EZPZ.

i had one match where that went great. won in the first ten seconds, sat back down, and prepared myself for a good hour or two of doing fuck all. didn't even feel bad the parents/grandparents were gonna be bored. the matches went up from me in 5 pound increments (i was in the 115 lbs division) and it was going great until we got to the 145 lbs division. the other school's wrestler stepped onto the mat, and she turned out to be a girl so our guy flipped, because for straight guys, wrestling a girl is not a pleasant experience.

i'm not entirely unsympathetic. my experience wrestling dudes was definitely a little traumatic. but also, i dealt. guy could've dealt too. instead, he refused to wrestle, and the coach went - fine. not even worth fighting over.

so he went to the 140 pounder, and that guy said, nosir, my mom said mormons can't wrestle girls. next guy down, 135 pounder, now he knew he could pull the same card and thus did. 130 pounder, 125, both tapped out. he got to the 120 guy, and that guy was catholic, but he said he was considering being mormon, and thus would have to pass. as a precaution.

coach blew up a little at that. he said "is there anyone - anyone - on this entire goddamn team that is willing to wrestle a girl?" and then he pointed at me and said "YOU. MAT. GO."

and i'll be real, if i'd been paying more attention, i'd have pulled the mormon card too, but i'd just been putting all that audio into a buffer file because i was reading, so i was halfway across the mat before i even processed what had been said and by then it was too late to turn back.

still i had a plan. and my plan - my beautiful, perfect plan - was to do what i'd always done. tackle, flip, pin, win. sit down. read. bore my family to death. move on.

i got the first part right. she was bigger than me, but she wasn't taller. just an incredibly stout woman. god built me like a snake with glasses, just as he built her like a combat cube. the problem was the half nelson. soon as she was down, i tried hooking my arm under hers from behind and for both genders, the defense for this move is just clamping your arms really fucking tight against your sides. if you're a guy, that's whatever, but if you're a girl - especially if you're god's chosen combat cube - that pins your opponents hand right against your boob.

so, i got the hook in, she clamped, my whole arm pressed against something soft, my coach was yelling THE HALF NELSON. BABYLON! JUST FINISH IT! FINISH THE HALF NELSON! and i was just trying to press hard enough to finish, when then my brain went

...oh.

and i flipped out. of course i flipped out. i like girls, and touching a boob is an elemental experience, and i was not ready. i was not prepared. i had not committed the sacred rites. i recoiled like i'd just brushed my arm against the surface of the sun, stood up, and backed away. nobody in the room knew why i'd given up. all they saw was me, right about to win, suddenly flailing around and scrambling. so everyone started screaming at me to just get the half nelson again, and i couldn't really yell back there's a fuckin' boob in the way and it was very distressing, and the only way i could think of to make them stop was just doing it over again the right way.

so i did.

i hunkered down and prepared myself for Wrasslin' Attempt #2: The Sequel.

i knocked her down again, EZPZ. i went for the half nelson again, but she knew what i was about to do so she super clamped, and i knew she was gonna super clamp, so i wound my arm back like a pop-eye cartoon punch before swinging my arm through the gap between her bicep and her side, but the amount of time i spent winding back super signalled what i was about to to do, which gave her time to clamp even harder, which somehow redirected the entire force of the popeye punch to the bottom of her bra.

it spat out a single boob the same way an action hero might spit out one single tooth after getting a solid crack across the jaw. as if to say:

*ptooie.* "that all you got?"

i did not actually see this. my experience was that first there was an arm, then there was a bit of boob, but i was braced, i was ready, forward at all costs, tatakae motherfuckers, and then the boob went away, and i didn't know where it went but my team, and the audience, and everyone who was in front of me, they all gasped like i just kicked them in the stomach. except for my coach. he was behind me, and thus one of the four people in the room who did not see the boob. now my mom, my dad, my grandma, and my grandpa, they all got flashed but nooooooo, coach thunderbutt was behind me, and he didn't see shit so he was still yelling NOOOOOO BABYLON WHAT ARE YOU DOING JUST FINISH THE NELSON! GO FOR THE KILL! BABYLON! BABYLON!

but i did not go for the kill. i stood up and she stuffed her boob back real fast, and we just kind of circled each other awkwardly until time ran out and i won on points. that's not technically allowed, but the ref had some mercy on me.

my coach did not.

i barely had time to sit down before he strode over to the bench to chew me out.

"babylon," he said, in that very calm way people get when they're too pissed to yell. "why didn't you pin?"

and i didn't know how to say well coach, i tried, but there was a boob, and it kept getting in the way, and my mom was watching, and so was my dad, and so was his dad, and his mom, and god (like bible god) and that's a can of worms because i'm pretty sure he was already mad at me, and i'm wearing spandex, and i think i might have to move to siberia, so instead i said

"i uh. i forgot how to do the half nelson."

which is actually impossible. forgetting how to do the half nelson is like forgetting how to swallow your spit.

and he looked at me, like i was the dumbest person in the entire world, and i looked through him like i'd just survived my 250th day in a trench at verdun, and he said: fine.

fine.

but we're all going to practice it for an hour tomorrow because you forgot.

and then he left.

and my buddies had the gall to be salty about it. i got so many comments saying "dude, why didn't you just tell him the truth?" and i said "you can if you care so damn much. you could've wrestled the girl too. maybe someone else should do the hard thing today."

but they didn't. so the next day, we did an hour of half nelson drills, and i spent a decent amount of time getting thrown around the mat, and it was pleasant in exactly the way that i hated and the year after that, to the surprise of everyone but myself, i quit wrestling and joined the trivia team.

and if you want more reasons to love my mom, my grandpa joked after the match that i might have to talk to my bishop about it, and my mom told him he would be allowed to make jokes after he stood in front of a crowd of 110 people in spandex underpants while wrestling a woman that was not his wife.

he paused for almost five seconds after that. then he said: aw. hell. sorry babylon.

and i'd have preferred my apology from god, but getting it from him was pretty good too.

[featherymainffins]

I hate how this is all my fault because I am the stupid fool who broke no contact and now look at me! Look at me having to prepare myself for being hurt for god knows how long!

[xxvinwestley]

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