#this is incomprehensible but i hope you get the feelings i am feeling because

[arminsumi]

First request ever: Can you make a story about Gojo, where their both in a relationship but gojo had to end it because he was afraid that she would be in danger?

Thank you! Keep up the good work, I love your stories!!!

LET ME MARRY YOU

↳ GOJO さとる + fem!reader

The risk of dating you his too much for him to handle, so he breaks it off, only for him to come back to your doorstep years later and ask: "Let me marry you."

2k

Note : istg each time i edited this... the wordcount grew lol. i hope u enjoyyy 🥹💗 tysm for enjoying my work it means everything

Warnings : angst -> fluff (?) -> happy ending trust me, Shibuya arc spoilers (Ep 9), manga spoilers (chapter 221)

🍒 More from Jay : Gojo works / Gojo fave works / JJK works / oct. reqs open

The risk of dating you is thrilling when Satoru's just a teenager in puppy love. But as he grows older, and heads into those dreaded 20s, the risk makes him more and more nervous.

What if something happens to you?

He presses kiss after kiss to your forehead and feels his chest tremble, feels his lips quiver, as he refrains from telling you the truth about the Jujutsu world. Satoru just can't do it.

There are so many instances of him saving you from curses that you're oblivious about. He just smiles strangely, and you wonder why he looks like he's just seen a ghost. Because he has, those pretty eyes see ghosts. But those pretty eyes also see you, "What am I looking at?" he responds after you ask why he's looking at you so tenderly, "I'm looking at my future wife." he flirts just to fluster you.

That's at the cafe, when things are still simple. He keeps thinking to himself, as he lays with you in bed some nights;

I want to marry you.

I'm going to marry you.

Please let me be your husband one day.

As if he's trying to manifest it.

Everything is okay-ish... until he gets pangs of fright when your name starts to be known outside of his closed circle of friends.

It's October 11th.

Gojo Satoru breaks up with you.

He leads you to believe that the two of you are just "right person, wrong time". It all hurts an incomprehensible amount for him, to finally cut the string that tethers the two of you together.

He sits on the stairs, head in his hands, mourning.

He starts many mornings with crying spells that last until midday.

He destroys evidence of you and him. In case anyone ever finds it and thus finds your apartment, or work, or college... or anything.

But he can't part with a very special photo. It's you and him in Okinawa, sharing a cheesy kiss at the beach. In the moment this photo was captured, Gojo remembers having whispered some dirty joke in your ear and that's why you smiled so big into his kiss.

He drifts to sleep to the lullaby lovesongs that defined your love.

Years pass, he refuses to even talk to you. The heartbreak worsens with time, he laughs when he realizes that on his 27th birthday.

Isn't time supposed to heal all wounds? Someone said that to him once. Well, they must have been lying without realizing it.

The day Gojo Satoru is sealed, he looks into Suguru's eyes, and remembers you through them. When he resides in that awful prison realm, he only thinks of you you you you you you you oh god he misses you so much that it feels like the very thought of your smile stabs his chest. Every memory is painful. Every flashback puts one more crack in his heart.

"Can't I ever catch a break...?" He laughs to himself, chattering skeletons making their eerie symphony around him.

He thinks. Ponders. Wonders. Broods. Daydreams. All about you. Always about you. Never anything else. Just his first love, from the late spring of his 17th year.

His earthly goddess.

The purpose of his benevolent actions.

He cries. And sobs. And weeps. Because no one can hear him but the skeletons and he's sure they don't mind the sight or sound of a 27 man howling in pain over a lost lover.

It's not just your relationship that he's mourning. But the fact he can't feel you in this cube... that he can't feel your presence in the world... that's worse than the heartbreak. At least through all these years, he's been able to sense your existence. Feel the subtle ripples of your soul no matter how distant you are; you'd be stood in a coffee shop, he'd be at Jujutsu High teaching, and yet feeling you.

Because as he promised to you at 17, "Half my soul is yours. And half your soul is mine. I'll always be with you even if I'm not there."

He has the biggest breakdown of his life in that little cramped suffocating claustrophobic eerie creepy box.

It's 19 days later. He's out. He's back in the world. And he feels the sense of you, your existence, swelling in his chest, tickling his mind, prodding his heart.

"Gojo sensei, where are you headed?"

"I'm gonna go find my other half." he says cryptically.

It's a stark bright day.

Gojo Satoru knocks at your apartment door.

You open it.

He looks at you, and you look at him.

"Hi."

"...hey...? Wow. Haha... you grew into your features, huh?"

Your voice fills his heart with life.

"You too... glad you still live in the same place... I was worried you might have moved out..."

"... Ah, Satoru, you'd be able to find me no matter what corner of the world I resided in."

Your laugh fills his mind with pleasant memories.

There's an a magnetism between you and him just like there always used to be. It feels like two magnets connecting at last, after feeling the distant attraction throughout all these years of distance.

"You're right." Satoru says after a silence of just staring into your eyes.

"I'll always find my way home."

A silence ensues after he says this.

"...haha... don't cry... or I'll cry..."

"... Satoru... I thought of you every day after you left me at the station."

"... me too."

"... why did you leave?"

He stares at you.

"... I was scared of you being in danger."

He gulps.

"Me? In danger? But you're the strongest, why would it matter."

Oh god that's right. You said it then when you were 17, "You're the strongest" and he carried that title with him from then. And now you've said it again. He's reminded. He feels a bit stupid. A bit ridiculous. A bit...

"You're right..." he chokes up. "I am. I could have protected you I guess..."

"... yeah, duh."

He smiles meekly.

It was more complicated than that, sweetheart. But I won't tell you.

He hesitates. He contemplates.

"I have to tell you everything... will you promise to believe everything I say even if it sounds insane?"

"Of course. What is it?"

He inhales deeply. And instead of blurting out his whole life story of being a sorcerer in the Jujutsu world, he just leans in and kisses you hard and truthfully. Cups your cheeks. Closes his eyes. Tastes you like a sweet from his childhood that he hasn't had for years. Presses to you. Takes in your scent.

Yeah yeah... he'll tell you everything in a minute.

But for now just let him kiss you until he runs out of breath.

Let him just...

"Hey..." he pulls away, gasping, "Let me marry you."

"Haha, Satoru..." you take it as a joke and laugh, because it sounds as bizarre and unexpected as one. Then you realize there's that serious look on his face. "... Satoru?"

"Can I?"

"... what?"

"Can I please?"

"... huh??"

"Can I marry you, please?"

He looks at you and waits for your answer. His poor heart. It's palpitating. His whole chest cavity inspires with love for you. This man that you haven't seen in years has just asked if you'll let him marry you — with very specific wording.

Can he? Will you let him?

It's funny in a way, because you think to yourself; this is such a Satoru thing to do... show up unannounced years later on your doorstep and ask for your hand in marriage as if no time has passed, as if you know the full story.

"Satoru... what happened to you throughout these years for you to come back to me and ask for my hand in marriage?" you ask, genuinely baffled.

He swallows slowly. "I know I sound like I've lost my mind. But I promise I haven't."

"That's hard to believe. The Satoru I remember was always on the brink of mania. A bit insane but not quite."

You make him laugh. "Yeah..."

"So are you asking to marry me out of insanity?"

"No."

"Well alright then. I guess I'll marry you."

You make him laugh again, with that funny tone. He hasn't laughed genuinely in years... it's always been that plastic laugh. But this is his genuine laugh. Silky and quiet. The opposite of his demeanor.

"I guess I should be explaining everything to you properly... before I ask you something like that."

"You're damn right..."

"... don't scold me too hard when I tell you all the reasons I left. Or, if you do, then at least hold me while you scold me. And run your fingers through my hair like you used to."

"Satoru."

"Yes?"

His heart throbs. He looks at you.

"Stop standing at the doorway and come inside."

"Oh."

You sigh. He smiles. Then he bows his head so it doesn't hit the top of the doorframe. Damn tiny Tokyo apartments. Your archway always had it out for the crown of his head. You laugh when he bumps into it just like he always used to.

So the two of you sit down and just talk. And talk. Maybe cry a bit. Actually, you cry a lot. And he holds you. And he says he's sorry. He says sorry over and over, as if the word is a bandage he's trying to wrap around all your heartbreak wounds that he caused.

"I'm sorry."

Satoru's apologies aren't easy to come by, and when you receive them, they nurse your heart. It's the gentleness with which he says it, and earnest too. Each successive sorry means more than the last.

"My angel..."

When you call him this after he vents to you about his time in the Prison Realm, and his overwhelming duty of being the strongest, he breaks down completely and just weeps in your arms.

He sobs like you've never heard him sob before, like a dog.

Finally. At least for a moment. He could be weak. Let down his guard. Be raw. Be emotional. Not a teacher. Not a sorcerer. Just your boy. Your Satoru.

Your consolation is all he wanted throughout these years. He looks up at you, eyes red and sore, nose sniffling, and stares at you like he can see your soul.

"...Satoru?"

"Marry me."

You chuckle again.

"If that will stop your tears..." you joke.

He sniffles loudly and swallows, composing himself.

"I thought about marrying you so much when we were together... 'n I tried so hard to bite my tongue when your name nearly rolled off it while talking to my students some days. I was always..."

On the verge of saying your name.

He sniffles long and hard and waits for your hand to weave into his hair.

"Will you think about it?"

"I will."

There's a silence. Satoru feels hopeful. He lays on your chest, arms around you like you're his whole world that he won't dare let go of again.

"There." you say with finality. "I thought about it. Let's get married."

"That took you, like, ten seconds."

You laugh with him. "Yeah... I already knew in my heart when you asked me at the doorway... you know... Satoru... it's funny. When you left, it felt like half my soul was gone. And when you knocked on my doorstep, it felt like I was whole again. Does that sound freaky, or does it tie into all this... Juju... Jujutsu stuff?"

He's silent.

"I have no idea."

"Wow. My future husband isn't knowledgeable at all." you joke.

His heart flutters at 'future husband'.

"Sorry." he says, smiling softly, "My mind is blank when your fingers are running through my hair."

The two of you go on and on, until you're laid in bed sleeping at each other's side. Resting. And god, did Gojo Satoru need a good rest.

In your arms, he's no longer an insomniac.

© arminsumi

Do not plagiarize / repost / translate / copy layouts / etc.

Do not steal what I've worked hard to create.

[dc418writes]

🧚🏻‍♀️✨Bippity boppity bow chicka wow oww! You’ve been visited by the Shameless Hoe Fairy, and now you must share a hoe drabble about:

Ari + pinned down + “Fuck, sweetheart, I love it when you whine so pretty for me.”

*incomprehensible screeching* ok ok calm down self no pressure 👀 lol but thank you Siri for this prompt! And all who read I hope you like what I came up with☺️!

Mine

✨Pairing✨: ex!Ari Levinsonxblack!reader

Summary🪄: As luck would have it, your ex is there to save you from a creep. Some coincidence right?

🚨: 18+ NO MINORS, soft/dark-dark elements, mention of sexual harassment, violence (man-man), unprotected adult happy funny times (please be safe everyone!), fingering, breeding kink, mention of alcohol, a couple bad language words

Your once pleasant buzz has since been replaced by a dull headache as you sit in the middle of your ex’s king sized bed. One of his shirts - smelling a mix of his cologne and detergent - covering your freshly washed body after the small bar brawl left the front of your top and skirt soaked with beer.

Every few minutes your mind wanders back to that moment where the “kind” and charming stranger showed his true colors. His touches becoming unwanted while trapping you against the bar and ignoring your protests. If it wasn’t for Ari, quickly yanking the hazel-eyed man away from you before his fist was soon meeting his cheek, you’re sure you’d be stuck somewhere and missing for God knows how long.

Maybe even worse.

A light knock on the door has a small smile curling on your lips seeing Ari in the doorway. His muscular body nearly taking up the entire space standing in his black sweats and some worn looking band tee.

“Hey, you feel alright?,” he asks and you nod. “Need anything?”

“No, just tired.”

“Get some rest. I’ll be out here if you need me.”

You didn’t want him out there though. In your current state - emotionally vulnerable and unable to get the events out of your mind - you wanted him next to you. To not be alone for tonight at least.

“C-Can you stay? Please?,” you call after him halting any further movement out of the doorway. With that tilted smile you still loved, he was soon removing his shirt and joining you under his sheets.

“Of course sweetheart.”

His thick arm wrapped around your middle with your back against his front, it was like old times how instantly safe and comfortable you felt. How you fit together so well, it was as if you’d never even broken up in the first place. And when his nose bumps behind your ear barely touching one of your special spots, that familiar flip returns to your stomach as well.

“Goodnight.”

“Night Ari,” you whisper, but you already know sleep is a far off concept from your highly active brain still focused on the bar. Trying to force you into reliving every detail as if helping you study for your own exam.

So many minutes pass of just feeling the air from Ari’s nostrils against your neck and hearing cars run by that you’ve accepted you probably won’t be sleeping tonight.

“That pretty head’s going a mile a minute again huh?,” he asks slightly startling you thinking he was asleep this whole time.

“You can tell?” He nods and you can feel the gentle scratching of his beard on your skin.

“Your pulse is a bit high; not to mention your body’s tense. Not as relaxed as I know you wanna be.”

He was always so intuitive with you. Knowing how you were feeling or if you were off without you having to even say a word. It was honestly scary sometimes how he was there with what you needed before it could cross your own mind.

“Why am I not surprised? Spot on as always,” you softly chuckle.

“Because I know you sweetheart,” he replies placing a chaste kiss to that sweet spot behind your ear. “Know all about this body. What goes on in your mind.”

His voice in your ear as his hand slowly drifts from under you and down your abdomen to the front of your thigh has you beginning to squirm. An ache quickly forming between your legs you want him to erase.

His fingertips trace a slow circle just centimeters from that junction as his lips create their own steady path down the column of your neck to your shoulder. It’s a tortuous buildup you wish he didn’t enjoy so much.

“Let’s get you to sleep, yea?”

“Please,” you shamefully beg anticipating his touch where you needed most.

And he doesn’t disappoint placing your leg over his so you were spread wide for him. His middle finger immediately dipping in your needy core and dragging just right you couldn’t stop the moan that tumbled from your lips.

“Still so tight after all this time. We can work around that though can’t we?”

By the time he was done - having readied you with two orgasms - you were already in a mindless haze only capable of babbling incoherent noises, “please”, and Ari’s name.

Exactly how he wanted you as he pushed your thighs up against your chest keeping them in place with his wide upper half while his hands pinned yours over your head. You were now completely at his use as he slowly began to push into you with a low groan and silent curses how you gripped him so tight.

“Ari please,” you whined. Head lulling to the side to lie on your arm. “Need you.”

“Fuck, sweetheart, I love when you whine so pretty for me,” he finishes with a gasp finally pushing to the hilt. For your sake, he tries to start slow, but the feel of you clinching around him and all the sweet noises you’re making, it doesn’t take long for that rhythm to quicken. The squeaking of the bed and the sound of skin slapping soon taking over your moans and panting.

“Mm don’t stop!”

He moans nipping at your bottom lip. “I’m the only one that can take care of you. Knows all your spots that make you dumb. Isn’t that right?”

Ari takes your whine as a yes, smirking as his mouth finds yours in a heated and numbing kiss.

“Because you’re mine sweetheart.” His pace quickens and you shriek as your release squirts to the sheets below. It only spurs him more moaning as he feels his own release approaching. “Always have been, shit, always will be.”

You want to whine and push him away with your new sensitivity and puffy folds that feel raw, but that blissed out cloud just keeps lifting you higher and higher that you don’t want to come down.

“And everyone’s gonna know it too seeing you with our little baby bump. Gonna be the best mama to our babies.” The thought of you carrying a mini version of the both of you pushes him over the edge moaning his release as you have one last one of your own feeling him fill you up with deep ruts wanting it to stick as deep as it could go.

Finally meeting that blissful high with you, a tired chuckle leaves his lips as he kisses all along your sweaty face. You’re pleasantly knocked out - mouth slightly parted - as he carefully lifts up so your legs can be stretched out again. Although soft, he doesn’t pull out; instead staying buried deep so none of him can escape.

Plus having you wrapped around him so snug, occasionally pulsing and clinching, it’s better than any blanket he could ever buy.

“Now, if only you weren’t so stubborn, I wouldn’t have had to go through all this,” he whispers before leaving one last peck on your temple.

HiredHelp: I said only one punch! (sent 12:29 am)

HiredHelp: That’s an extra 2K (sent 12:30 am)

HiredHelp: 5K in my account by tomorrow or we meet again very soon (sent 12:30 am)

So for those who’ve read my works over the years, this is definitely a bit of new territory for me (soft/dark-dark and smut) so hopefully it’s not cringe🫣. Thank you @stargazingfangirl18 for this prompt and for allowing me to play☺️! Also sorry if this is longer than a standard drabble lol

[goldenlikedayl1ght]

the lakes - m. murdock

a/n: hey guys so i've been struggling a lot with the fact that i might have hearing loss (i'm going to the doctor next week) and as always i am projecting, but i am not 100% sure everything in this fic is accurate and for that i apologize. but it's my little passion project and i hope you enjoy <3 as always, comments and reblogs are always loved and appreciated! warnings: hearing loss, hearing aids, tinnitus, reader struggling with being disabled, some parts are more vulnurable and don't have the reader being like overly confident in their disability, matt being soft, some suggestive behavior at the end, kissing, nicknames, pretty pg-13 honestly word count: 3.0k summary: your hearing aids run out of battery, and you're forced to struggle through a day of ringing ears and being deaf. matt helps, as he always does. pairing: matt murdock x hard of hearing!reader now playing: the lakes - taylor swift "take me to the lakes/where all the poets went to die/i don't belong/but my beloved, neither do you."

“Are you deaf?”

“What?”

You’re eighteen, home from college for the first time since fall break. Your family sits around for Thanksgiving, and there are so many people talking. There’s about thirteen people at this long dining room table, and they are all talking at once. You’re sitting next to your sister, but you can’t hear her well.

You know she’s speaking, and you’re sure you’re yelling, but you’re frustrated.

“I said, are you deaf? I repeated myself like, four times!”

You feel your face flush.

“Sorry, I didn’t hear you. You’re mumbling, and it’s loud in here.”

Your sister looks at you like you’re crazy.

“I’m right next to you, and I’m not mumbling. In fact, no one is yelling, either.”

You poke your fork at your sweet potatoes and feel hot, angry tears in your eyes as you avoid everyone’s gaze.

Your mom sits across from you, and frowns, planning to tell you to make an appointment at the student health center when you get back to campus.

She doesn’t even have to. You’ve booked one by the time she says it to you.

At the student health center, they administer a hearing test, and then refer you to a specialist for further testing. You call your mom, crying and she gently comforts you, before driving to the nearest bookstore and picking up a book on hearing impairments and a copy of ASL for Dummies.

At the specialist, they do another round of tests. Your doctor tells you that you do in fact have hearing issues and that you should come back in a year for more testing, to see if your hearing gets worse. For now, you get a doctor’s note that requires all your professors to take your hearing impairment into consideration. The process for getting that applied at your university is painful, and only gets worse through your years there.

Before you get to law school, your doctor tests you again, and tells you how your hearing has been decreasing in quality in the past few years. He says that you’ll need hearing aids to regulate it. You cry because you cannot afford that.

You get captioning accommodations throughout law school, as well as a note taker for certain classes that are entirely lecture based. You still try to take your own notes, but it frustrates you that suddenly you need all this help. Your own notes are incomprehensible and often miss key parts of the lecture as you sit for a few minutes trying to decipher what your professor had said a few minutes prior.

You go into corporate law after law school, choosing to stay out of court initially because you find yourself frustrated that you wouldn’t be able to process all of what’s going on due to the many voices.

You stay at this company long enough to get your hearing aids, long enough to pay your loans, and long enough to save up a good fund for your hearing aid needs.

You quit your job and get hired at Nelson, Murdock & Page as an interim while you decide what you want to do.

With your hearing aids, life isn’t so frustrating anymore. You find yourself enjoying casual chatter and not worrying about processing what your friends are saying. At family dinners, you take your hearing aids out when you’re mad at your family, to which your stepdad, another hearing aid user, always laughs.

And, despite the pay not being stellar at your job, you love it. You love working with people who need help, love fighting injustice, and you love your coworkers.

...

If only Matt Murdock would reciprocate your feelings towards him.

You’ve been dancing this dance for months. You come into work with coffee and stutter when you get to his doorway.

You wonder if he’ll ever know how desperately you want him.

You go about your days quietly, going to the bar with them at the end of a long week. You love your friends and find yourself hoping they know how much you love them.

Karen and Foggy, as well as Foggy’s fiancé, know about your hearing aids since they sit sort of clunkily on your ears.

You don’t tell Matt, though, not at first.

You know how bad it is, to not even tell your blind crush that you have hearing aids. But you’re embarrassed. It makes you sound like an old person even though you’re in your twenties.

But when Matt crawls into your window late at night, bleeding, you don’t even flinch as he crashes onto your floor behind you. You’re reading, your hearing aids out, and he’s unsure why you can’t hear him. Your heartbeat had no reaction, it’s like you don’t even realize he’s there.

He taps you on your shoulder and you turn quickly, and gasp, before starting to sign at him. Even in his disoriented state, he knows you’re doing something with your hands and moving your mouth. At first, he thinks that he might have stuff clogging his ears, but then he realizes you’re signing, probably because you think Daredevil isn’t blind.

He takes off his helmet.

“Matt?” You say, and it comes out a little louder than it should, because you can’t hear yourself to gage how loud you’re being.

He says something, and your gaze focuses on his mouth, where you can barely make out what he’s saying.

“I can’t hear you.” You say, softer now. You reach over to your bedside table and put your hearing aids on. By the time you look back, Matt has passed out on the ground. Oh fuck.

You get your first aid kit and begin to work on his wounds. When you’re done, you pull him onto your couch, now stained with his blood, and watch as he sleeps. Blood covers your hands, and you listen to him breathing.

When he wakes up that morning, you’re asleep on the couch, and when you feel him start to stir. You grab your hearing aids, and turn them on, before watching him wake.

He says your name softly, and you take his hand in yours.

“Hey.. You.. You’re Daredevil...”

“You’re deaf.”

“Hard of hearing. Not fully deaf, just… My right ear is a lot better than my left, but without my hearing aids I’m close to deaf, yeah…”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Why didn’t you tell me you were Daredevil?”

“I was scared. Scared that… That you would view me differently, scared that you wouldn’t like me as much.”

“I was scared too..”

“When did you start losing your hearing?”

“In college. I realized it when I went home for Thanksgiving, and then it got worse from there..” You tell him. A hand reaches out to your face, and you lean into it, letting your cheek rest in his palm. His fingers trail up towards your ear and gently run his fingers over your hearing aid.

“Thanks for stitching me up.” He says softly.

“No problem.”

“The hearing aid does explain the buzzing I always hear when you’re around.”

“You can hear my hearing aids?”

“Apparently. I can hear a lot of things. I have heightened senses. You use pomegranate shampoo and had red velvet cake for dessert tonight. Your heart is racing.”

Your face flushes.

“I can turn them off if it’s bothering you.”

“How would you hear me, then?” He has a point.

“I just don’t want them to bother you.”

“Don’t offer to hide your disability just to make other people more comfortable.”

You kiss him when he says this, in a careful way. You’re gentle, making sure not to hurt him as you do. He lays there and lets you kiss him, his hands on your face. You realize you had no reason to be scared that Matt might reject you for your disability, because he is the only person in your everyday life who really gets how it is to have a disability that affects all aspects of your life.

You trace the healed scars on his skin as you kiss him gently, careful not to hurt him. You promise that you’ll kiss him more passionately when he isn’t freshly stitched up.

• • •

A few weeks passed after that night. You and Matt start seeing each other more and more as you fall deeper in love. You find it silly that you wasted so many days, afraid of talking to each other and maybe disappointing each other over the fact that you both lack a vital sense.

But Matt never views it that way. You wear hearing aids and it’s perfectly fine because most of the time, you aren’t struggling to hear him and cannot communicate with him, and he can’t see when you can’t hear him.

Instead, Matt loves that he can hear your hearing aids buzzing softly because it always alerts him that you’re there. He can hear your heartbeat and smell you, too, but it’s not quite the same as this soft little buzzing that reminds him often of a bee.

Except for this one day.

You slept over at Matt’s on a Thursday and really, you should have known better. You knew your hearing aids were going to need a battery change soon, but you’ve been so busy with work and with Matt, and worrying about him at night, that you’re tired. So tired that you forget to pick up batteries before your hearing aids die.

You sneak out of Matt’s apartment early, sending him a text that you needed to go get changed before work. Really, you want to avoid the fact that you wouldn’t be able to hear him. But he didn’t respond to your message. You decide that you don’t care at this moment and head out to work, debating the right way to tell your coworkers about your predicament.

When you get to work, Foggy is immediately talking to you, and you are tense.

“Foggy—” He’s not stopping. It sounds like he’s mumbling, and there’s this ringing in your ears. “Foggy, I can’t hear you.” He finally looks to you, and says something, you make it out to be a phrase of confusion. “My hearing aids died.” You tell him. You’re frustrated, and Matt isn’t in the office yet.

You deem this as a blessing and a curse. Foggy goes to tell Karen what’s going on and as you’re settling down for the day, you get a text. You hope it’s from Matt, but when you see Karen’s name, you falter slightly.

‘Hey! Foggy told me what was going on. We’ll have your calls redirected to one of us and you can spend the day doing housekeeping and paperwork.’

‘Thanks’, You respond, “Sorry about all this. I’m usually on top of my battery life.”

“Don’t worry about it. These things happen.”

“Still, thanks. Did you hear from Matt at all?”

“No, he probably just slept in late. He should be in soon.”

You try to ignore your anxieties over his absence even though you know that when he does come into the office, you’ll have to struggle to communicate with him all day.

So, for the first hour or so of your day, you try to get some work done but there’s a light ringing in your ears that’s getting worse and worse as you attempt to try and focus on other things. Everything sounds so muffled. You’re so focused that your teeth grind against each other, your muscles tense, as you attempt to try and block out the ringing in your ears.

You have a feeling that by the time you leave today, those hot frustrated tears will be threatening to pour once more.

You don’t hear Matt as he steps into your office and stands by your left side, where you’re almost completely deaf. He stands there for about ten minutes, trying to get your attention before he realizes the light buzzing of your hearing aids are not there.

You must not have them in.

So his hands find your shoulders gently, and instead of tensing, you actually relax under his touch, because you realize that it has to be Matt. A slight turning of your head confirms it and you lean into his touch.

Neither of you say much for a while, deciding to let your frustration slowly dissipate as you lean into his warm hands. They stay on your shoulders and upper arms, rubbing gentle patterns into your skin.

After a good ten minutes of this, his body shifts to your right side and he leans down, before speaking at full volume, maybe even a little louder, just to make sure you can hear him. It still sounds like he’s mumbling, but you can hear him.

“Forgot your hearing aids?”

“Batteries died.” You tell him. “You never answered me.”

“My phone died. I forgot my charger, too.. Are you gonna be okay to work all day?”

“Mhm..” You smile softly, “You’re gonna have to help answer calls, though.”

He kisses your cheek, and you lean into the warmth.

“Anything for you, sweetheart.” He says, a soft smile on his face.

The day goes by pretty much as you expect it. You spend it doing paperwork and dodging phone calls, your tinnitus gets worse as the day goes on. By the time the day is finally winding down, Karen sends you one final text.

“Matt’s staying a little late to catch up on some work. Want me to walk you home?”

“No, I’ll be fine. Thank you.”

You realize that because she and Foggy are heading home, you’ll be able to sit with Matt, maybe get a little bit of peace. You’re thankful, too, because you’re about to lose your mind over all of this. The ringing is just getting to be too much.

You wait a few minutes after Foggy and Karen head home before you go into Matt’s office. He smiles at you and gestures for you to come in, and you do. You lean against his desk, as he speaks loud enough now that you can hear him.

“I’ll just be a few more minutes, Bee.” Even the soft-spoken nickname doesn't get you out of your funk, too busy wanting to get on your hands and knees and beg God for your hearing back.

That doesn’t usually happen, but every once in a while you ask him for a normal life.

God sends you a blind man as your soulmate, because he must think that the whole thing is quite funny.

“Okay…”

You feel hot tears pooling in your eyes as you bite your tongue and dig your fingernails into your skin. You almost draw blood.

“What’s wrong?” He can tell that something is wrong. He can always tell, and you’re foolish to think anything less of him, and even more foolish to forget his super senses. A part of you bites back a bitter feeling, since you wish you could’ve had super smell, super sight, super taste, anything in exchange for your hearing. You were not given an exchange, only forced to give, with nothing in there for you.

You forget that your boyfriend has super senses and can taste and smell your salty tears and blood in the air. Damn him.

“Loud… Ringing in my ears, my tinnitus is always really bad when I don’t use my hearing aids for a while..” You say softly. “It’s just.. it really hurts...” You confess, tears slipping down your face.

“Sweetheart..” He takes off his glasses and rests them on the desk in front of him. “C’mere..” You can’t hear that last part, but the way he opens his arms gives you the hint.

You sit on his lap, burying your face in the crook of his neck with a shaky sigh. You feel the thumps of his heartbeat and hold onto it, the ringing in your ears slightly muffled by his skin. It doesn’t fix the problem, but it helps.

His hands linger on your body, gentle caresses of your knee or thigh happening here and there. He just wants you to know he’s there, in the same way he desires when everything becomes too much for him.

“”m sorry..” you say gently, and he just hushes you softly, kissing your head. He traces patterns into your skin. He traces words into it as well.

L-O-V-E.

S-W-E-E-T-H-E-A-R-T

He traces your name, his, and your last names.

You kiss him softly, realizing that you might never be 100% okay with your hearing, but Matt will help. He’ll understand. He loves you, and it’s enough to be confident in your future again.

You spend only a few minutes more in the office before you decide to head home, his hand never leaving yours.

You make it back to his apartment and Matt plugs his phone in in case you need to text him and get his attention. You wind up stealing a pair of sweatpants, a tee shirt, and a pair of fuzzy socks. The two of you wind up tangled together on his couch.

Your ear is pressed against his chest as he gently caresses your skin, occasionally moving your hair from your face. He mumbles sweet nothings, and while you can’t hear them, you feel the rumbling vibrations in his chest, and you relish in them. You bathe in the feeling of his heartbeat thumping against his skin.

You fall asleep like this, with Matt touching you and talking in this low tone to make sure you can feel the vibrations of his voice in his chest and in his throat. It’s enough just knowing he’s there. That this thing you thought would deem you unlovable is no match for Matt Murdock, who on your wedding day will throw up the sign for ‘I love you’ in ASL.

For Matt Murdock, who, when you’re taken for loving the devil, will find you and take you into his arms and kiss you so that you know he’s real.

For Matt Murdock, who touches you in all the right ways so you can hear the sounds of your own pleasure.

For Matt Murdock, who will gently trace patterns into your skin when you need to be grounded. For Matt Murdock, who feels himself slipping further and further in love with you and finds himself searching for the soft buzz of your hearing aids when you walk into the room.

[comicaurora]

I've started making my way through the playlist hbomberguy made of actually good video essays by queer creators and spotted a comment of yours on the one about the relationship between Harley Quinn and Poison Ivy, which was fun xD red in the wild!

Anyways, just wanted to appreciate how both you and Blue and you are very good at showing your sources! It's always nice to know that the people you've watched for years have good habits after an event like this, and I hope you guys are among the people that get some new fans after this whole debacle, because your channel definitely qualifies for "good educational videos made by queer people"

I'm glad! Blue's much better about listing his sources and follow-up reading than I am.

To be honest, I loved the video, but my imposter syndrome always flares like crazy when I watch an essay like that. It might be the ADHD or it might just be who I am as a person, but I feel like I've lived my whole life striving to make everything I do the best it can be, and still managing to fuck up and get criticised for things I could've done better if only I never missed anything. It's an actual gut-drop when it turns out a source I used wasn't trustworthy, or when in older videos I only went wiki-deep for some claims and didn't check every source to be 100% sure I wasn't being goat-fish'd. And this being the internet, I can get criticized at any time for things I've gotten wrong years ago, since it's evergreen online and to the new-viewing critic it's as fresh as yesterday. It makes it hard for me to stay proud of my work past the first moment of "oh I would've done that different now". There's a cocktail of complicated, scary feelings around this space, no matter how little I actually have in common with the bad guys of this scenario - it's less about the reality and more about who my imposter syndrome tells me I am. I saw several people saying that the video actually made them feel much better about their own work because it made it clear that accidental plagiarism on that scale is impossible, but if my anxieties listened to reason I would've successfully machete'd them out of my skull years ago. I just hope I never fuck up badly enough to deserve an hbombing of my own.

But my own stress aside, the hbomb essay exposed a level of laxness, laziness and entitlement on the part of these plagiarists that I think is almost incomprehensible to people who actually create for a living or even just the joy of it. How hollow do you have to be to take in someone else's writing and not consider it, digest it, let it reshape your views and then formulate your own interpretation on it, but instead to file off the serial numbers and pretend it's yours, trusting that the person whose thoughts and words you valued enough to steal will never be powerful enough to call you out on it? I go down research rabbit holes because I love the frustration and thrill of putting something together! How joyless it must be to skim the surface and borrow someone else's conclusions!

I've sometimes had people email asking for sources on parts of my interpretation of various myths, possibly in the interest of source-citing for school papers (a nightmare concept in and of itself) and with very few exceptions I usually have to tell them "the only sources were the english translations I used of the primary source where the myth was originally written, like I said in the video, and the part where I said I was conspiracy-boarding has no source other than my own analysis of the given source, which is why I called it conspiracy-boarding" and I was always a little baffled by those emails - half the videos are introduced like "this is The Prose Edda" or "this is in Ovid's Metamorphoses" or "this bit is Hesiod" so what else could they want - but seeing the hbomb of the week made me realize that truly original analysis might not be what most people are expecting from a "thing summarized." They might be expecting a compilation of other people's summaries instead.

[natigail]

Dan and Phil share so many hours with each other and yet getting a glimpse of how they communicate when they are apart or just too tired to speak out loud feels like something so special. The fact that it's a series with multiple episodes now, and they openly acknowledge it as tradition is so lovely!

You can hear them in their texts - even as incomprehensible as some of them are - and the vibe of how they exist with each other in that space. On top of that, when they're filming these videos, they share the behind the scenes stories.

What do you mean Dan only talks to Phil on the phone when he's in a taxi and Phil makes up stories rather than having a normal conversation? What do you mean Phil took a photo of sleepy Dan wearing his glasses and then sent it to him randomly? What do you mean Love Game by Lady Gaga is one of their most listened to songs because they play it on a game? What do you mean Phil called his mum for Dan when he got burns in the shower while in Germany? What do you mean Dan sends selfies while across the world? What do you mean Dan's phone number is the one connected to Phil's Deliveroo? What do you mean they use emojis and try to make up the best sounding fake words? What do you mean Dan threatens to kill Phil for forgetting to shut a drawer?

And even with everything listed here, there's still stuff I'm forgetting. There's so much packed into almost every quip, a little window into how they are when they are at ease. At home and with their home person. The easy banter and playful teasing just compliment the vibes while they sit and laugh so loudly at stuff they've already seen before. Because seeing it again together and reminiscing will never not be funny.

I've watched their faces a lot this year with the return of the gaming channel and yet I barely could keep my eyes off them in this video. Several times I would rewind the video to carefully watch an expression again, or simply because I had completely forgotten to look at the text while staring at them.

So much life and love in the way their eyes creases, their smiles flash without abandon and they lean closer and closer to each other. Always in orbit, always tethered. This video was truly a gift and I am so incredibly happy that we got another one, and I hope it does become a tradition that continues for a while longer. Thank you, Dan and Phil!

[willicebattlecatsblog]

chemicals in the lake are making the cats GAY >:(

Basically a masterpost about this specific AU

-Lionblaze transman, autistic and won't pick up any social cue.

-Lionblaze is not a calico, he is a chimera

-Lionblaze big guilt and OCD over his power

-Lionblaze fears he will end up like Scourge as a part of his OCD (i have to find a way to let everyone know that Scourge is related to Firestar tho....)

-Lionblaze and Toadfoot only aknowledge each other in The Fourth Apprentice when they are on their way to the beavers and they become gay

-Lionblaze keeps his personality from late po3 (kind of dumb, can't pick up any clue, very ocd, is socially very awkward and clumsy, clearly needs help to navigate social situations properly)

-Lionblaze is very much the same as in canon, very flawed, he is still the most forgiving of the 3 and does try to talk it out with Squirrelflight and Leafpool, he feels very isolated in his clan due to the prophecy, the lies around his birth and Hollyleaf being presumed dead, which makes him more prone to have a relationship with an outsider instead of a thunderclan warrior

-Toadfoot also went through losing a sibling (Marshkit), he doesn't have a canonical father so I think he would be very attached to his mom (Tallpoppy) and remaining sibling (Applefur), he is also seen being playful, friendly and understanding towards Flametail I love toadfoot

-Lionblaze and Toadfoot have big rivals to lovers energy and it was my favorite weird "crack" ship when I was 13

-The AU also centers around the flaws of StarClan and their weird mechanic that keeps changing over time (ashfur goes to starclan because he just found his way there, and leafpool gets to go through a whole trial somehow???)

-Living cats and StarClan fight dark forest first, and then living cats turn more or less against StarClan for being as incomprehensible as possible, doing blatant favoritism, letting bad seeds get in and throwing out overall good cats, and the warrior code will also be reformed because it's way overdue grrrr

-Maybe Dovewing and Ivypool are the babies of Hollyleaf and Cinderheart instead of Birchfall and Whitewing ? I never really liked that Dovewing was indeed linked to the 3 but she was so far away in family tree tbh :((

-Lionblaze will have babies with Toadfoot as some point (Maybe adopted ? I don't know yet) and they won't have many children, and I will do everything in my power to get rid of all the current incest in the books >:(

-I think the babies of Lionblaze and Toadfoot will look like Tallpoppy and Leafpool because i love them

-Leafpool, Squirrelflight and Tallpoppy will both be aware of the relationship at some point, but they will keep their mouth shut and be supporting mothers because they are very cool and progressive

-I don't know if I will ever write fanfiction about this, I am already working on a clangen project, so if I do anything about it it will only be a small side project ! I use this AU to rewrite things that make me happier than the canon version (like making transman OCD autistic lionblaze, i find it easier for me to relate to him) :)

I hope you like it, I shall disappear again for a while now, I have art fight attacks to work on >:)

[dragon-ascent]

Hi! I’m not sure if you’re taking requests.. (if not just ignore it) If you do can I ask for Zhongli waking up reader from their nightmare? Fluff fluff✨

Have a nice dayy

Nightmare

The murky water: thick, stifling, all-consuming. It makes its way past your mouth that gasps for air that never finds its way into your lungs, past your eyes that try and fail to find any beacon of hope.

It's hard to move - you feel heavy, and any swimming expertise you might have fails to rear its head as you flail around in this ocean of black, black darkness. It's like you barely have any control over your body - like a hapless ragdoll, you find yourself at the mercy of the ruthless untamable.

The waves submerge you, hardly having faced a fight. Down into the depths you go, the water pulling your body in different directions. Eerie voices whisper and leer at you as your limbs struggle in one last futile attempt...you're being torn apart...what are the voices saying?

Incomprehensible...

Suffocating...

Paralyzing...

Silencing...

...

"Darling. Darling?"

Oh, so this is what it's like to die. You wake up in heaven with your beloved being the first face you see. Or...no, what happened was-

"Did you have a nightmare?" Zhongli pulls you close without even needing to wait for a response, because he knows. Of course he does.

When you murmur a meek 'yes,' Zhongli kisses your forehead and wipes away tears that you had barely realized were there.

"I'm here, my darling. I'm here now. Nothing shall harm you." He rocks you back and forth at a languid rhythm, stroking your back while he allows you to stew over it quietly. "If you are willing, would you like to tell me about it?"

You drop your tired gaze to the warm, fuzzy blanket covering you both. "It's...it'll sound silly..."

Your husband kisses you again, so tenderly your soul might just melt. "Nothing you say will sound silly, my love. What you have felt in the moment will never be silly."

You find a small smile creeping onto your lips, and so you tell him all about the dark sea, the crushing waves, and the utter helplessness you felt as you slowly drowned.

Zhongli nods solemnly after you finish recounting your nightmare. "Yes, that does sound frightening," he says, running his fingers through your hair. "I'm sorry you had to experience that. I would have been afraid too, had I been in your position."

"You get scared of things, too?"

"Of course, dear. It is one of the factors contributing to my...distaste of seafood." Perhaps it's your imagination, but you can feel him nearly shudder against you.

Your sniffle turns into a soft giggle. "I didn't think of that."

He holds you in silence for a while, punctuating it with gentle kisses and soft whispers of affirmations. The way his arms envelope you is so...comforting, so warm, so protective. You barely register that you're lying back down on your pillow again in a more relaxed position, your tears long dried-up, his arms still wrapped around you with that same protectiveness.

"Shall I give you a nicer dream tonight?" asks Zhongli.

You look into his faintly-glowing eyes. "You can do that?"

"I am an adeptus, after all. Shaping dreams comes second nature, much like sub-space creation."

Smiling softly, thanking all the stars that you found a man like Zhongli, you say, "Yeah. I'd like that."

He caresses your cheek. "Tell me. What shall I have you dream of?"

You don't even hesitate. "You and me, stargazing atop a hill. We would even catch colorful falling stars, because we'd be so high up and super close to the sky." You blush, feeling a little silly for saying it now.

But Zhongli had already made it clear nothing you say earnestly would be silly. "A fine dream," he murmurs, "one I would love to share with you. Now close your eyes, darling, and I promise to meet you there atop that hill where we can catch the stars together."

The God of Contracts never goes back on his word - when your eyes close you find yourself lulled into an easy slumber; and when the initial shroud of black gives way, there stands your husband under a zoetrope of dancing stars, with a smile as warm as the spring sun.

He beckons, and you happily approach.

Finally getting around to requests! Please feel free to drop anything in my inbox, Zhongli-centric of course, and I'll be more than happy to whip something up~

[cerastes]

Okay, Hades 2!

Supergiantgames does it again. It’s still Early Access, but it has more polish and content than a lot of fully released games on its price point and higher. Of course, all this content would not matter if it wasn’t good. It’s good. From gameplay to voice acting to sound design to music to graphics and visual elements, Hades 2 is airtight. There’s one exception we’ll discuss, but otherwise, it’s incredibly well crafted.

So far, there’s only one instance in the game I can say needs some important improvements: The second phase of the Tartarus boss, Chronos, who is an end boss. Not in terms of difficulty, mind you, it’s in terms of visual clarity: There’s so many lights and particle effects that making out what’s up can be frustrating, especially when Chronos hits you anywhere from 20~ to 35 damage, or, you know, his 1000 damage practical instakill. The instakill is HEAVILY telegraphed and easy to deal with, almost trivial, but in the concerto of lights and fireworks, it’s possible to miss one or two seconds of Going To The Don’t Die space and getting mulched. That’s not a big problem, it’s just a user experience issue that you just internalize after a few tries and some short term frustration. What IS an issue is Chronos using the Liu Kang flying kick from midst an incomprehensible mishmash of light graphics and taking out 25 HP plus forcing you to reposition in a fight that’s quite lengthy and in a game that’s stingy with its HP.

They don’t need to meddle with his difficulty! They just need to make the second phase easier to parse. It’s a great fight otherwise.

On the Melinoë end of things, some boons and weapons feel like they could use a touch-up: The Torches let you keep shooting while you dodge and move (movement speed reduced), for example, and you NEED to keep shooting to activate Omega Attack which is what actually does damage. But it’s a big commitment because now your defense option is also doubly important as your main movement tool AND your i-frames. This is all really cool! Except the damage does not at all make up for it in a game where the Torches’ linear nature hurt it more than help it, as enemies don’t line up and instead go around each other or otherwise have specialized movement and attack options. The Axe, with its wide sweeps, does pretty much all the Torches want to do, with a lot more damage and less risk. The Aspects of the Torches would try to help: Moros can be nifty, but the ghosts the Moros Torches shoot are physical objects to each other, so they pile up and soon your shots just collide with each other and don’t reach the enemy. It’s a constant tug o’ war with detonating them with Special, which, again, fun, but you have to set up real Hellzone Grenades before they are truly damaging. Basically, a ton of effort for damage I can easily get more safely and easily with other Arms. Which I hope they address, because I like the Torches.

Hestia’s boon is a bit underwhelming, but that’s expected from the DoT build, those are always the hardest to balance. Dionysius in Hades 1 was really strong. Hestia here has potential but ultimately falls off hard because no matter how much you build, it always ticks at 40 per second. That’s very low DPS for Boons that otherwise add no Attack%. With Sister Blades, I can rack up 600 Scorch and it’s still better if I grab Aphrodite instead and do that much damage in a few attacks instead.

And you know what you are seeing here in these paragraphs? Very easily tweaked things in a game in Early Access by a developer known to deliver. I am not worried at all. This game kicks ass.

[olderthannetfic]

Since you've mentioned that you use Scrivener as a word processing software, I have a bit of a weird-ish question. I have looked at the programme and it seems incredibly useful, and then I looked at the pricetag and- gulp.

I currently use Word which costs 5 euros per year thanks to university, but am thinking about switching to another programme that isn't related to my uni as I feel too paranoid about my smutty fanfic ideas being looked at by my uni and them disapproving of my writing. XD (Word keeps marking "fuck" with a squiggly line and suggesting I choose another word to avoid offending my readers, but if canon doesn't give Barclay some holographic MMF action taking place during "A Fistful of Datas" and turning both his holographic partners into holographic Data and therefore inducing maximum tension and insecurity due to feelings in poor sandwiched Barclay whenever he meets actual Data after that, I will have to write it myself! :P )

According to the website where one can buy a Scrivener license, one pays for the current version of it and will have to buy later versions anew if I haven't misunderstood. You seem to have used it for quite a while, and I haven't managed to find out when the different versions came out. I know the current one is 3, but I am unsure how much time passed between 1 and 2 and 2 and 3, and am unsure whether it's a good idea to buy a license now or whether it would be wiser to wait if it's likely that another version might be released in the near future (that is within one year for example) because then I might wait a little while with my purchase, heh. It probably sounds quite stingy but I am solely getting it for my tiny and too seldom indulged hobby of writing fanfic, and currently have to kinda sorta pay more attention to my wallet and where its contents go, so to say, which is why I'm hesitant.

The question basically is: As a (probable?) long-time user, do you think it's likely a new version of Scrivener will be released within the next year or so or do you think it's likely the current version will be tha latest to purchase for a longer while than 1-2 years?

I hope this rambly mess makes sense, haven't really slept for quite some time, so I am sorry if this is terribly incomprehensible. Sorry for the weird stingy question. Have a nice day and I hope you have slept and will sleep better than I currently do, heh!

--

I've only used it for like three years.

A quick google suggests that Scrivener 2 was released in 2010. 3 was released in 2017 basically to keep up with OS changes.

(IDK what you searched, but this isn't hard to find, dude.)

Scrivener is a fairly... old-fashioned style of software, I guess I'd call it. Some dude wrote himself a program to write his own novel and then people liked it. Some other guy decided to port it to Windows.

They update approximately never. When they do, recent buyers of the old one upgrade for free and everybody else gets like half off. The trial period is 30 days of actual use. The current retail license for 3 is only like sixty bucks. It's a commercial product, but... not like you've been trained to expect by your average modern software that wants to nickle and dime you at every turn.

Do you need Scrivener? Well, no. Not unless you want customizable high-level ebook output formatting and fancy features like that. You could just use some other free option if you just want to type stories in something that isn't Word. But Scrivener is priced extremely low for what it is.

[zethwritesss]

‘good morning babe’; a morning with your girlfriend, ellie; a very fluffy drabble/fic thingy

warnings: cursing, FLUFF!!! (idk why this is there oh well), established relationship, cuddles, mention of nsfw content.

synopsis: ellie helps get you up in the morning (+ some cuddles)

a/n: dedicated to y’all who hate mornings, figured i’d write this because i’ve been thinking abt it non stop- also i hope that the audio helps this little fic come to life a bit more!! i’ve done the audio to be read alongside the fic, or it can be just as a stand alone thing. ALSO reader is gender neutral!!

word count: 0.8 k

you heard your curtains get thrown to the side, allowing the way-too-bright sunlight to stream into your room. you decided to shove your face into some pillows and groaned.

you felt a hand lightly rub circles on your back. it took a few seconds for your senses to kick in. and fully register what’s going on around you.

you were lying on your stomach, your girlfriend sat down on your bedside.

“good morning babe-”

“elsss- ‘s too earlyyy…” you groaned, voice raspy, barely understandable as you had shoved your face into some pillows.

“i know i know… i’m not a morning person either so i get it. you were up pretty late last night huh?” ellie said, still rubbing your back.

you nod your head in response. you were indeed up late last night, sometime in-between 3-4 am. you didn’t even register ellie coming into your room, opening your curtains and sitting at your bedside.

”mhm wannagobacktobeddd” you mumbled incomprehensibly.

“hmm? what on earth did you just say?” ellie chuckled at your statement. you groaned in frustration, it was too early for you to deal with ellie’s shenanigans.

“can i have twenty more minutes of my fucking beauty sleep?”

“oh! now that gets the point across. i say ten more minutes.” ellie said, hoping you’d take her offer of an extra ten more minutes of rest.

“ten? els it’s too early for your shit. ” you protest.

“ten.” ellie said remaining firm on her stance.

“twenty.”

“what about fifteen? and i’ll join you-”

‘thank fucking god finally a viable option’ you thought to yourself.

“fine.” you grumbled.

“then move over so i have some room.”

ellie chuckled.

“but- im soooo comfyyy-“

“babe.”

“ellieee.” you cooed, your were extremely comfy in your bed, buried in your sage coloured duvet.

“well i’m making room for myself since someone‘s too stubborn to do it themselves!”

ellie shoved you over a little bit and climbed into bed, lying on her side, making sure she was able to see her sleepy partner. you were now face to face with her.

“hi!” ellie said with a slight smile.

“hi!” you reply, making eye contact with your beloved els. her sparkling green eyes, and freckled face mesmerizing you.

“how was your sleep?” she asks you, as you feel her hand come up to stroke your cheek. your felt your cheeks turn warm in response to her gesture.

“was good, needed more though.”

“don’t stay up too late then…”

ellie had a point, your sleep schedule had been all over the place.

“ellieee i know you are noooo better than me…”

ellie looked down at your statement, ashamed that you called her out.

“okay okay… yeah i think we both need to sort our sleep schedules out…”

you nod in response. you loved mornings with your girlfriend, she made them a lot more tolerable than before. ellie did have a point though!

“anddd how was yours?” you ask her.

“mine was good, glad to hear yours was good too! soo what were you up to so late?” ellie asked you.

“i just couldn’t fall asleep, your sleep talking didn’t help me… it was almost sleep yelling!” you say, giggling to yourself as you remember what ellie said in her sleep.

“well, what was i sleep talking about?”

“it was something about a horse, i think you were riding it, you kept telling it to giddy up”

ellie chuckled in response to you telling her about her sleep talking shenanigans.

“i do remember dreaming about being a cowboy- that’s probably it! didn’t think i’d be sleep talking though!”

“on this topic of riding, when can i ride you?”

you smirked, you liked to mess around with ellie. it was fun making her flustered and speechless.

“i- i- wow- wasn’t expecting that one at 11:32 in the morning… maybe later tonight-” ellie said, biting her bottom lip as her face went bright red at your comment.

“yeehaw!” you exclaim with a smirk on your face.

“up you get now-“

“but… ellie it hasn’t-”

“nuh uh- no buts. come on babe…” ellie tutted, with a grin on her face.

“whatcha-” you ask, followed by a squeal as ellie hits you with a pillow. then she quickly hops out of the bed, in case you were to retaliate.

“OKAY- OKAY. I’M UP!” you exclaim, sitting up on your bed.

“there we go- okay so now that you’re up i’ll leave you be. if you’re ready in fifteen, breakfast is on me!” ellie teased, before heading out of your bedroom.

you used to hate mornings, they were slow and draining at times. but with ellie they’re much more manageable, minus ellie’s tactics with a pillow.

“ALSO I’LL GET YOU BACK FOR HITTING ME WITH A PILLOW” you yell at your girlfriend, whose light chuckles could be heard from down the hall.

taglist: @elliessknife @little-star-bun @no-nameno-face @anchoeritic @solaceocean @winfleurs

[mixiury]

Sunlight knocking outside of your window.

Character(s): Wanderer x GN Reader

Warning(s): Depressive thoughts and in general signs of depression.

Summary: When days seems meaningless, someone is there for you. (OR how he helps you during a depressive episode)

A/N: I wrote this as a comfort for myself a year ago or so. I never meant to publish it but, now that I am in a better place, I thought that it may help anyone who is going through the same, so here it is <3 Requests are open btw!

Shivers run through your body despite being covered in sheets and blankets. Everything is so cold, the type that numbs out your senses until all you can feel is the freezing sensation taking your body. Just the idea of getting out of the bed is unimaginable, too tired to even move from your position.

All corners in the room sumerge you in their darkness, as if waiting to consume you whole. You don't resist it. There is just not point on it. Instead you close your eyes and let it drive, taking you whatever it wishes. Maybe if you pray hard enough you will be somewhere else. A unreachable place where pain can't find you, far away from your own mind.

Just five more minutes of sleep never hurt anybody, and sometimes resigning is far better than keep fighting an endless war, but when you open your eyes you are still in your room. Motionless. Fixed to the same thoughts that never seem to leave.

Some days are harder than others, they say, but in reality, they are not. They are incredibly easy, and that somehow makes it worse. You have no right to pity yourself when all you do is eat and sleep for hours, if not days, while other people works so hard to get half of what you have. It's shameful, really, but you can't force yourself to care enough to do something about it.

You try not to focus too much in your surroundings, intentionally ignoring all the clothes and papers around your bed. They are in the floor too, memorizing exactly the place of everything just so you don't step on them. It has be getting harder as more and more trash gather around, but everytime you set your mind in cleaning something comes out. You just don't have time for it, you often tell yourself. Maybe, if you say it enough times, one day you will believe it.

Actually, what time is it? The urge to check your phone suddenly overcomes you, although quickly give up on it when you realize it is completely dead. It doesn't even matter, you think. Days are all the same anyways, your shrug it off. You don't even remember the last time you did anything outside of roting in your room. Your memory has gotten worse, or maybe it has gotten better because, when you have nothing to do, everything is a little reminder of it.

How you wish you could just sleep this uncomfortable feeling crawling off your chest as worms eating your flesh, yet, despite how tired you are, your body stubbornly refuse to shut itself off once again. It must have gotten tired of that too, you just hoped it would do the same with you. But as much you would like that to happen, all you can do is stare at the ceiling. In a weird, incomprehensible way, It stares back.

It's impossible to know how long you stay like that, it could have been hours just as it could have been minutes, but what brings you back to reality is a knock on your door, the numbness suddenly replaced with annoyance as you slowly realize it won't stop anytime soon. The person outside of your room must know how stubborn you can be, because at some point they just stop knocking and abruptly break in. Rude. Maybe you should be scared that someone was able to get inside your house that easily, but instead you only burry yourself in your blankets, the light from the outside dazzling you.

Doesn't take you to see his face or hear his voice to know who is the intruder, although the recognition doesn't make it any better nor your annoyance any less.

"How do you even walk in here?"

"Good morning for you too."

"It's 5 pm. In what world is that morning?"

"In mine."

"And in it is this good too?"

"Definitely not after you burst through my door."

You hope that he would finally get the message, turn around and leave you alone, but all he does is huff and start gathering things off the floor, matching your own stubbornness. Although irritating, you know better that try to kick him out, already familiar with this routine between the two of you everytime you or him fall into these "episodes", coming unwelcome to the other's place just to check if they are still alive, most of the time after a week or two of not news or signs of life.

It is an unsaid agreement that you both did when opening to each other for the first time, something you sometimes are grateful of and others regret it, specially when he is the one breaking in and not the other way around. You wonder if he feels the same, but either way, none of you ever talk about it.

"Don't move anything, you are just going to make it worse."

"Stop whining and be grateful I'm doing this in the first place. Your whole room is already a mess, there is literally no way to make it worse."

Your mind screams to tell him how you know the place of every single thing on the floor and how he is just desorginizing your whole complex system you carefully created, but that would just start an argument about how stupid that is and you just don't have the energy for it right now. Yet, with the blankets on top of you to still cover the light, you decide to throw him a dirty petty look, one which once again is matched by him at first and later ignored.

Finally, you give up, fully using the blankets as a shelter and burying yourself in them like before.

Speak feels too much, listen feels too much, eat feels too much, get up feels too much, sleep feels too much, exist feels too much. You can't even continue staring at the ceiling because that would mean uncover your eyes completely and the lights are also too much for your eyes. All you wish is for Wanderer to give up on you just like you gave up in yourself, maybe if he did you wouldn't feel as a burden anymore. Maybe you would finally stop caring at all. But when has Wanderer ever listened to someone besides himself? Just like talking to a rock, or in this case, puppet.

"Stop overthinking. Self pity won't take you anywhere."

His voice guides you out of your thoughts, but not out of the all consuming emptiness and loneliness that usually fallows with them. He knows it all well, the feeling of just wanting to dissapear out of thin air to never be remembered nor found. That should be comforting, yet it isn't. Understanding does nothing against it, pity makes it worse, and help is terrifying, no matter from who it comes.

"All I want is to go back to sleep." Half a truth. You don't need to finish that sentence for him to get it.

"When was the last time you ate anything?"

What were you supposed to answer to that? You don't even know what day is it. It could have been just some hours just as it could have been days. Last time you checked your fridge there was nothing left to eat so you just went back to the bed and haven't bothered of eating anything ever since. You should have ordered something, anything, but you must stink after so many time without showering and you just didn't want to interact with anyone like that.

"Time is relative."

You try to hide it but embarrassment crawl out of your body as the realization kicks in, hands instinctively reaching for your pillow and using it to cover yourself with that too. If seeing your room was bad this was ten times worse. You haven't noticed until now, but your hair is greasy and your clothes sweaty, sticking to your skin in a very uncomfortable way. Although your nose can't catch it, it would be surprising if you don't smell too, for once grateful that your friend doesn't exactly have a human body to notice that.

Now, besides feeling completely useless, you also feel self conscious, isn't this so great?

He sighs and you are so sure he is going to leave. It is weird, all this time everything wanted is for him to get out as soon as possible, but now that feels so degrading, not that you would blame him if he does.

"I'll cook something but first I need you to get out of the bed."

Of course. You almost forgot this is Wanderer.

"I don't want to get up."

He stares at you. You stare back harder. All those stare competitions with the ceiling will have to paid off somehow.

Both of you stay like that until he finally resigns for the first time today, going back to clean around. It is surprising how he did so much in about an hour, actually being able to see the floor now. You will just blame his anemo vision for it, because the alternative is that you are just useless at literally picking stuff from the floor and you aren't really fan of that conclusion.

You must have spaced out because the next thing you feel is the weight of the bed suddenly shifting, Wanderer getting on it too as he ignores all the stuff on top of it. Your mind begs you to push him away, but your body moves a little to the edge, giving him the space to actually fit. Maybe any other day you two would fall into a teasing exchange, mocking each other and trying to get under the skin of the other only to forget how the conversation started in the first place. However, as familiar you are with those conversations, it just doesn't feel right anymore. Not right now.

"Here is what we are going to do; We stay in bed for 15 minutes more, after that we stand up and you go and take a shower while I cook you something. When we are done we can watch a movie, play something or hang out outside, what do you say?"

"Make it twelve minutes, let me pick the movie AND the games. You have terrible taste."

"Fine, but then you agree to open the windows because this place looks like a fucking cave. Also, I refuse to play Animal Crossing."

"Animal Crossing is way better than any other game you play."

"My choice is final. We can still play that stupid cult game where you are a goat or something."

"Is a lamb."

"Whatever, we have a deal?"

"Do I even have any other choice?"

Wanderer smiles slightly, greedy and proud, while you reluctantly accept your final defeat for today. The only difference is that, this time, you don't feel as alone as before, forming a smile of your own too. Maybe a little of light isn't so bad after all.

[the-phantoms-kiss]

I am sorry Pt. 1

∘•···············•∘ʚ ♡ ɞ∘•················•∘

John Wick X Fem!Reader 𓍯𓂃 Angst • -1k Words

Maybe he was right all along…perhaps people like us don’t deserve to feel love, and yet, here I sit on the floor in the hallway to a house he rarely resides in, weeping as I pick up the last of my belongings. Maybe he was right… I’m the problem. It has to be me, I must be the problem, otherwise he wouldn’t be afraid of loving me. That’s got to be wrong though, that would insinuate that he loved me at all which isn’t true. I could never be loved.

“Don’t make this any harder than it has to be, just take your stuff and leave.” His voice was muffled from the other side of the door I was sitting across from. “John, please-“ god I sound so pathetic, it’s no wonder he hates me. Silence, my pleas were met with silence, but not the kind we were used to, sorry, the kind I was used to. It was no longer silence where words weren’t enough to communicate, it was the kind where words would only take up more space within the heavy tension. Maybe he simply didn’t hear me. My John would never leave my pleas unheard. ‘My John’ what a foolish concept, he was never mine.

“Why? Why John? WHY?! Why? Just tell me why John. Tell me and I’ll leave you alone. I just need to understand why. Please.” I must be incomprehensible with all the sniffling and babbling. Bang. The door opens and slams against the wall. There he was, aggravated, wearing his usual suit, I don’t think I’ve ever seen him this upset. Man, I must have ticked him off. “I’m sorry.” The whisper breaks, barely leaving my lips. “This. It’s when you do this shit that really pisses me off. When you go and say sorry for every little thing as if it’ll get you some sort of pity points.” Borderline screaming, standing tall on the frame of the door. “I’m sorry.-“ “There you go again.” “I am NOT done speaking. I am sorry that my poor ol’ pitiful me bothers you so much. I am sorry that I’m not as independent as you’d like me to be. I deeply apologize for stupidly thinking that being together for 5 years meant that I’d get to hug my boyfriend once he got home, I am so sorry for assuming that you’d like to have a nice warm homecooked dinner by the time you got home. Shit, I’ll even apologize for loving you even though you told me that killers like us could never feel love. I’ll apologize for every last thing I can because it’s the only thing I’m good at doing. Ain’t that right Jardani?” “Yeah, you’re right. Now take your stuff and get out of my house.”

I stand, push him out of the way, and enter to grab my last belonging. The room was in disarray, with clothes all over the floor, drawers half open, and the dresser which still had my dresses surrounding it. Atop his nightstand was within a frame, a Polaroid he had taken of me on our first official date. Back when we were both working as assassins, before the crash.

I miss those days. I miss when I didn’t think that every bad thing that happened was because of my own fault. I miss the days when I thought I had it all under control. I miss when John would draw me a bath and rub soothing circles on my back after a long day. I miss when I felt loved.

“You never loved me, did you? You don’t need to answer that. I already know the answer. I’m sorry I couldn’t do more for you. I hope you find someone you’ll love. Goodbye, John. Goodbye. ” Up until now, he’d had his back turned against me since I walked past him, and now he watched in fear as I walked past him again he grabbed my wrist, the one with the frame. “Not this. It belongs to me.” I resisted but his grasp only became stronger, not enough to be tight, but enough to stop me.

“Stop, you’re losing me.” And to that, he let go, scared that he’d hurt me as if I was another assignment. “I’m sorry… just please… It’s mine…” “No. It isn’t. She isn’t. Not anymore. I’m taking my belongings like you told me.” “NO!” His voice cracked midway through, and his breathing was now shaky and erratic. But despite his job, his mood, and his strength, he didn’t have it in himself to stop me from walking out the front door. He probably did. He simply didn’t want to. He didn’t want to or else he would have chased after me instead of falling against the closed door, slumped with his hands on his knees like a little kid who’s hearing their mom drive away.

But it’s for the best. I’m simply wasting his time, loving him, knowing that he’ll never love me.

Where will I go now? Where will I go now that no one has waited for me, now that I’ve been left behind by the only person I gave my all to. Let’s be honest, I never had much to offer, I’m surely not the only female assassin. I’m just a waste of time…

Part 2

[trans-androgyne]

hey, thank you for having and running this blog. you're doing the equivalent of gods work.

first, i'm sorry for the amounts of jerk anons you have to deal with. you literally articulate yourself very well and clearly, and still, people will find a way to twist it or not take it seriously. it reminds me of me "arguing" with terfs back in 2022 on twitter. (shudders.)

and second, how do you deal with the constant negativity? i have found myself doomscrolling the transandrophobia tag, and, well, to no ones surprise, my mental health is down the gutter. do you have any tips to deal with it? mainly with the transandrophobia in general? it is more than exhausting existing as a (gnc & enby) trans guy atm, and it's really getting to me. the thing is, I wouldn't mind it if it were non-queer bigots, but the fact it's coming from inside the community is devastating. i am more than hurt. this intense hatred for men and masculinity, queer, trans, or not, is incomprehensible to me. it never does anything good. anyone who says "i hate all men and anything masculine" is definitely going in the "yep that's either a radfem or a radfem hatchling" box. i partially understand as to why- i had a fear of men myself when i still identified as a girl, and slipped into the "all men bad. kill" side of the internet for a short while but ONLY because of this rhetoric ("you need to be afraid because there are men outside." , "men and masculinity are inherently predatory or dangerous")- but i got out of it because i saw how fucked it was eventually (thank goodness)- but nothing should ever be an excuse to excessively hate a gender or masculinity this badly. and its mostly gender essentialist bs anyways imo, so i do not understand it at all...it reminds me of people saying men/mascs cant be asexual because it's "in their nature to be sexual"- because testosterone. its hard. i just wish we all could respect each other. you're either "one of the bad bad evil men" or "noooooo not YOU. you're AFAB!! never!! youre a girl/woman in spirit!!" from my personal experience with terfs/radfems/idiots.

anyways, sorry for invading your anon space with this long rant, but i just wanted to leave this and the question. i hope you have a nice day/night, and thank you for reporting on transandrophobia as much as you do. it's sadly very much needed right now.

Thank you so much, this is such a kind ask to receive. To be honest with you: I don’t handle my mental health very well around it </3 It’s weighed on me pretty heavily these last few months especially. The things keeping me running this blog anyway are my passion for the transmasc community and lovely anons like yourself cheering me up. When it comes to trying to manage it, the most important thing for me has been finding people I can vent to about it who will understand. I’m lucky enough to have a wonderful discord server full of awesome trans people who will talk it through with me, and that’s been a life-saver. Staying offline for a bit and trying to engage in person with people who are unlikely to be transandrophobic towards you can be a nice relief. I catch myself doomscrolling constantly too, and it doesn’t feel great. If you need to set some sort of time limit on your phone even just to remind yourself not to do it, that’s helped me before and might help you too.

Having this much hatred levied at me for my identity from my own community lately has been devastating. I completely understand you. I’ve always been vocal about supporting transfems in particular, so it really hurts to see so many turn against me for speaking up. I understand how the queer community got this way, though. Antimasculinism has been an issue in queer and feminist spaces for ages. I think people are starting to notice it more and understand why it sucks and how much it negatively affects trans men and mascs. It feels like a losing battle sometimes with how much cultural feminism — the Men Bad Women Good flavor of pop feminism — has pervaded our communities and often led to very overt radical feminism that people still can’t always recognize because they don’t know anything about TERFs outside of them hating trans women. I believe the culture will start to shift soon such that people are able to recognize sexism and gender essentialism that harms all genders, and I will be doing my part to help that happen.

[asocialangel]

i saw ur post asking for blue lock requests! what about fake dating with shidou? 💕

What Could Be

↬fake dating Shidou

chapter 1 – chapter 2 – chapter 3 – [...]

Thank you for giving me a prompt ! I hope this satisfies u ! This is my first time actually writing for Shidou so prayin this isn’t ooc… And mainly i hope that you're okay with a series instead of a one shot...

This will be a multiple chapter story !! And i will post them whenever they are ready !! So please enjoy chapter one as i air my first "chapter" writing !! Yayyy 😎 Shidou x fem!manager!reader. Fake dating. 700w.

Chapter 1, Any Other Name

[no warnings]

It’s the first of the month and as every first of the month you receive your paycheck. It was your fourth one, meaning it had been four months since you started working at blue lock. You wish you could say you were a manager there, but your paycheck said otherwise. Assistant to auxiliary tasks. Yeah, that has a lesser of a ring to it. But still, you enjoyed your job, maybe because you got to be around cute boys all day, but mostly because it meant you could get away from your parents a bit. You had freshly graduated when you received a mysterious job offer, from an acquaintance of your former employer. You decided it could be a good idea to leave the family house to get some air. It was indeed ! Because you go to reinvent yourself, even make up a fake name 'cause you felt like it. So here you were Vivi.

Well you were Vivi to most people. Except for this stupid boy that always mockingly despised you, so much you weren't sure if it was a joke anymore. To Shidou, you were maid-vivi. As if the only task you did was cleaning. Well, he was kinda right but you would have never admitted it to him. You still had paperwork and PR work to do sometimes...

You took your paycheck and exited Ego's office. And as you made your way to your staff room (your personal bedroom if you may) you bumped into him, yet again. It seemed like your paths always crossed, you could swear you saw him more than your own reflection these days. “Maid-viviiii” he sang as he walked towards the cafeteria. “Shidou.” Suddenly a crazy thought came to you. You could blackmail him. And win money with it. Obviously you wouldn't extort it out of him, but more at the situation. You grinned. When was it you became evil ? 

“Are you holding up well ?” You turned around before he was too far away. He stopped and turned around too, to see your face. You could see his incomprehension at your concerned face. “What do you mean, maid vivi ? I’m always well, and I recovered perfectly from yesterday's match as a U-20, as I always do”. You wanted to mock him so badly: “even though you lost ?”. But you said instead: “Oh.. So you haven't seen then ?” God you started feeling bad for being this machiavellian. “People online, they found out about, you know… You swinging that way. I’m sorry they outed you to everyone this way. But worry not Shidou, I'll still treat you the same as I am actually an ally to ga–" "I’M NOT GAY !”. Damn he got started fast. Perfect. “WHO THE FUCK SAID THAT”. “Uhm, netizens, but as I said every sexuality is fine and–”. “I’m not a fucking gay ! I respect them obviously but I'm not like… Like them !” He was still shouting. “Oh… they lied then ? But they showed old tweets you had on your profile and–” “Impossible, I’ve never done anything like that. I swear i will find these fuckers and make them pay”. “Well they can pay all they want but now everyone knows- uh i mean thinks you’re a homosexual”. “Why do you put it that way ?! Pfff I need to prove ‘em I'm not. Maybe if i retweet hetero porn it’ll convinc–”. “Ooh i don’t think you need to go that far”. As you said the sentence, another lightbulb appeared and lit in your head. This whole prank –cause yeah it was a prank, no netizens ever found any tweet– was solely to piss him off. But now you could get something else out of it. “I think dating a girl would be enough. Good luck on finding someone while you live here 24/7 tho. Anyway I need to go now ! Good luck !”. Both these sentences were not complete lies. “Fuck…” you heard him hiss down low as you left. 

What did you get out of this crazy man stunt ? The satisfaction of seeing him suffer AND something that will most likely bring new audiences to Blue Lock TV. BLTV had already started unbeknownst to the boys. If Shidou, one of the most populars contestants, had a girlfriend, it would create new drama that’d bring a new audience. And you being the start of that would most likely mean a raise ! Double homicide. 

That was your ideal without actually thinking things through. Because who was the only girl Shidou could turn to, while living here 247 as you said ? Yup. 

[ y o u ]

A/N: AHH I NEVER MEAN FOR THIS TO BE A SERIES ??!!! but it just came naturally... This will be a new exercise so I'm actually keen to see how it goes, how i'll do !! Also i forced myself to be concise cause i always do the longessttt (almost annoying i feel like) writings so i hope it's still comprehensible. FEEDBACK IS SO GREATLY APPRECIATED !!! hehe love u, u reading this...

[kidrauhlschik]

Let The World Burn. - I.N. 3

3. Frustrations

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In the end, he managed to forget that a king is nothing without his queen.

-

~

Part 1, 2, & 4 will be linked in the master list above!

Pairings: Jeongin x Reader (and some love triangles among the way.) enemies to lovers, royalty au!

Warnings: ANGST, implied smut, war, aggression, anxiety, depression, death, please let me know if i miss anything... (this was heavily inspired by the song “Let the world burn” by Chris Grey.

Word Count: 2.1K

~

Life went on as normal. Responsibilities, meetings, and building ties in court. It felt like every day was longer than the last.

Felix took some time off due to personal reasons, but now he was back in full service as your advisor and best friend. It felt great, but you couldn't help but feel distanced from the freckled man.

Bang Chan would always be there when you needed him, it's as if he had abandoned Joengin's side to be there for you. Anytime Felix left you at night to get drunk in his chambers, Chan would keep you company. Humanizing Jeongin in his own way. To you, the king was a ruthless ruler and husband, but to Chan, he was a clueless younger sibling. It was odd and incomprehensible.

One day, months after your wedding, much to your surprise, Jeongin was standing in the middle of your chambers. Dressed in his usual attire. A black suit, golden accents and chains. You have never seen him in casual wear outside of your consummation night. He's only ever seen you as a business partner.

"What are you doing here?"

"Is that a way to address your king?" He stands before you, authoritatively.

"This is how I address anyone who comes into my chambers uninvited." You stand tall as well. Not letting Jeongin make you feel small once again.

"Funny thing, you are staying in my soil, my palace. As far as I am concerned, these are my chambers." He says as he extends his arms in a show of bashfulness.

"As far as I know, this is my soil too. I am the queen. Have you forgotten that, your highness?" You say with a chuckle, almost finding his stance comedic. He hasn't talked to you in months. You'd accepted him as an acquaintance. Now he wants to come into your room to interrogate you, it seemed outrageous to you.

"That." He points at you, before he turns towards your window. "You always do that." His hands rest against the window seal, allowing his weight to rest on his shoulders.

"I am sorry my king, but I am afraid that I am not understanding what you are saying."

You frustrate him. He can’t quite put his feelings into words, but you keep him up at night. He pushes himself off the window in desperation.

"I am saying... That I do not understand how you can be so casual about everything. Despite it all, you stand tall, and stubborn. It truly gets under my skin." His voice slowly gets louder with every word. What he doesn’t say is that the way you switch from innocent and precious, to authoritative and ruthless in the blink of an eye astonishes him. It seems fake, it infuriates him.

"I apologize my king, but I am still clueless as to what is your agenda here."

"STOP!" You take a step back, surprised at his tone.

"You are scared! You are unsure! You are mad! You know how I know this? That’s because that’s what I am going through! I am going absolutely mad. Is this deal not breaking you down the same way it's breaking me?" He runs his hands through his hair, eyes wild.

"Jeongin..."

"How can you be so strong despite the circumstances? Why the hell are you always so happy and chirpy? The world is harsh, and I know that you are aware of that. I’ve seen you with your claws out." He grabs a glass from your table and fills it with the pitcher of wine next to it.

"If all hope dies, then why should I continue living?" You tilt your head while looking at him.

"That's what I mean! You are so foolish. The world isn't made of hope. This world is based on strength. Only the strongest survive." He takes the a swig from the glass of wine. “I don’t want to keep hearing your bullshit! You go on your little act of fairy godmother to the people and then you turn around and make commands in court, and if something doesn’t go your way, you throw a damn tantrum until you get your way. It never makes sense.”

"Sometimes the weakest people win from hope, When you have nothing, there is nothing to lose. Do not underestimate that my king. Also, do not make any assumptions on my character based on what you see in court, you do not know me. I am strong for the sake of my people, it is not an act." You say as you try to guide the wine glass down from his hand, but instead he gathers anger and throws the glass to the nearest wall, causing you to jump when it makes impact.

"How?" His eyes search the ground, at a loss, hoping to find some answers in his own brain. Now it made sense, the king had been drinking. You don’t know him enough to realize it at first, but now you can see. His hair out of place, his eyes glassy, and his usual calm and controlled demeanor is nowhere to be seen.

Feeling bold, you approach him, only a couple of inches away from his face. "Maybe I am foolish, but I would much rather be foolish and confident in a world of tyrants that think they know it all. The higher you stand, the bigger the fall. Do not forget that my king." You say as you leave him in your chambers.

~

After seeing Jeongin in your room, you opted for your safe space, the garden.

Just as you were about to reach the doors leading you to the west side of the palace, you encounter one of your ladies, Rose.

You expected to just curtuoly nod at her, but the second she saw you, she stopped in her tracks. "Your highness." Is all she said.

"Rose?" You responded without turning around as you passed her.

"What are your intentions in court?"

"I am sorry?" You've always been kind to those of lower class, treating them as equals. However, as a princess, you learned very quickly when someone undermines you. Their tone is more aggressive, demanding, and authoritative. The only people that you allow to speak with you in such way, are your own parents, but that was when you were still a princess under their rule. As a queen, it would take pure imurdinance for someone to speak to you in such way.

Yet, Rose stands before you, with the imprudienty of no other.

"Stop acting clueless. You came here trying to stir up the diplomacy at court. We have a way of doing things here and you think you have a right to change them?”

You finally turn to her, "I have every right to change what I please. I am your queen.”

Rose lets out a humorless chuckle, "You may be the queen but you are not my queen."

You wondered if she was stupid or just insane.

Taken aback, you respond, "I beg your pardon?"

"Don't play coy, your mind games are getting to the king," that surprises you. "He won't shut up about you. Always ranting over your tantrums and schemes. You make him seem small and weak. A king does not listen to a woman."

"I am not just a woman, should I repeat myself? I am the queen. He has no choice but to listen to me if he means for this alliance to work. Either way, this is none of your concern. You are my lady, what right do you think you have in this manner?" You approach her, standing a foot away from her now. Although you stand tall and straight, she seems to match your energy. Proud and strong.

"I have a right, despite your beliefs. I am the king's mistress." It catches you off guard. Sure, you knew that Jeongin has never loved you, or even liked you, but you thought that he had enough respect for you as a royal to at least be faithful to you.

How foolish.

"Oh." Is all you can say.

"You may be the ruler of the country, but I am the ruler of his heart. your highness. He cares for you out of convenience, if you could even call it that. Just be aware, that I can see through you. You are a stranger in this court, and once I can get rid of you, you will be gone in the blink of an eye." She says with a smirk.

You raise your hand ready to strike her, but she stops your hand by holding your wrist mere inches away from her face.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you. The king is rather protective over me. Be aware that he has told me that he will choose me before his rights as a first born, tread carefully queen YN." She throws your hand to the side and turns quickly to walk away.

At her words, you take a second to watch her walk away, "You as well, lady Rose."

~

You only told Felix about what happened with Rose. He tried to convince you to tell the king, but you knew he wouldn't be on your side, especially after seeing how bold his mistress was.

The word, mistress, hurt you. You should have expected it, but the glass in your world seemed to crack a bit more.

"YN, I just want you to be happy." The blonde haired man says to you.

"I know Felix, but realistically, can you see me happy here? The more I think about it, I'm going to live a life of misery next to Jeongin."

"You knew this YN." He is sitting on your bed, trying to console you.

"I don't know what I knew Felix. I thought I had something here. I thought I had pride, I thought I had dignity. Turns out, I am nothing. I am a queen by name. The king only agrees to my terms because he needs my troops. Otherwise, my country would be bare to the rest of the world. I truly don't know what to do." You sit next to him on your bed, tears streaming down your face.

"Hey hey," He holds your hand and looks into your eyes. "You are strong, you're a benevolent queen, you are respected, you do not need an immature king to acknowledge you." Felix wipes your tears away with his left hand, as his right hand hold yours. "You know I will always be here for you." In between sobs, you hold eye contact with your best friend.

Has he always been so handsome? So ethereal that his glossy eyes are enough to mesmerize you? His face, is kind, and beautiful, it's bewildering that you've never noticed that before.

If the king can have a lover, the thought of one crosses your mind.

"Felix?" Your face, inches away from his.

"Yes? Your highness?" You smile at his words, always so light hearted.

"Do you love me?" His heart stops before he could collect himself.

"Of course I do my queen." He says with no hesitation.

Your free hand reaches his face with affection, "No Felix. I am not asking you if you love me as a queen, but as a woman. You are loyal and handsome, maybe I am foolish to think that you may like me as anything other than a friend, but maybe I am feeling bold. Do you think we could be-"

Before you can finish your sentence, your chamber doors fly open.

"Where the hell is the new queen?" His voice booms through the room as if it was amplified.

You and Felix jump away from each other, the moment gone before it began.

You look towards the source of disruption, first with concern but the second your eyes lock with his, your harsh demeanor falls.

"Minho!" You shout as you run to the older mans arms, leaving Felix behind.

"Hey princess..." He whispers softly to you, "How's it been?" In response you only hold him tighter.

After collecting himself, Felix stands as well, "Isn't it rude to ignore your comrade?" He says with his arms crossed against his chest, feigning sadness.

Minho let's you go after a bit while rolling his eyes, "Yeah whatever yongbok, I missed you too."

He goes to give a hearty hug to Felix. "Nice to see you man."

"I've missed you."

Minho breaks the hug first, "Damn, it's been less than a year, why are the two of you acting so sad and proper?"

Both you and Felix look at each other before you respond, "It's been a hell of a year Min."

~

AN: Okay only two chapters left unless I make it a really long one. This was supposed to be the long one, but I worked 60+ hours this week - i did my best :/

[bestbuddybobby]

Okay hi, I wrote this baby fic a while ago, but I don't feel like putting it on ao3 because it takes place in the same universe as The Winner Takes It All, but with the same baby as Butterfly Kisses. It is a little confusing, but the story is still cute so I wanted to share it on here! I hope y'all will enjoy it. ♡

Words: 1.4k

Warnings: none

Rating: T

Read below the cut! ◡̈

Athena was sitting at her vanity table, applying the last licks of mascara to her lashes. Normally she had her team around to get her ready for these kinds of award shows, but she wasn’t feeling it today. Zuri had been extra clingy lately and Athena didn’t feel like having extra people around when her toddler wasn’t feeling like herself. Athena preferred to be by herself on these moments so she could take breaks whenever she wanted to give Zuri a little bit of extra love.

“Mama, up!” Zuri was standing next to her chair with her chubby little arms reaching up. She already tried climbing onto her mother’s lap, but hadn’t been successful yet so she tried another way to get Athena to pick her up. 

Athena put her mascara back on the vanity table and lifted her daughter into her lap where she started pressing kisses on Zuri’s cheeks. The toddler started giggling like crazy, kicking her feet out of excitement. 

“I am sorry baby. She seems to only want you these days.” 

His voice always had a calming effect on her, dissipating the last nerves in her stomach when he started talking. She wished she could bottle this feeling so she could use it whenever she was nervous on set or when she had to give a speech. 

“Da. Da.” Zuri was babbling while she started playing with a makeup brush Athena just gave her. The toddler was putting the brush on her face and giggled when the soft bristles hit a ticklish spot just below her jaw.

“You are fine. Next week she is only gonna want you.” Athena sounded amused. She met Bobby’s eyes in the mirror and she winked at him. 

Bobby walked up behind them and put his hands on her shoulders. “You look stunning. Absolutely stunning. I wish I could go with you tonight.” The couple had decided he needed to stay at home, because Zuri started freaking out when she wasn’t with one of her parents lately. Normally they would ask Hen and Karen to babysit, but even that wasn’t an option right now. Their daughter was very strong willed and wouldn’t calm down until one of her parents was back in her eyesight. 

It was starting to get on Athena’s nerves, because it also meant she hadn’t had much alone time with her husband. Something she desperately craved, but it just wasn’t in the cards for them. One of those sacrifices they had to make for being parents. 

“Me too, but maybe next time?” Athena turned her head and lifted her face in an invitation for a kiss. Bobby didn’t disappoint and immediately pressed his lips against hers, humming appreciatively against her mouth. Out of habit his hand slipped behind her neck to keep her right where she was. 

Bobby finally let her go after a minute and lifted the toddler from her lap. “Come on Zuzu, Mama has to change her clothes before she has to go.” He was eyeing Zuri’s hand suspiciously, because he had been hit before and he wasn’t feeling a brush to the face if he could help it. Zuri wrapped her free arm around his neck and dropped her head to his cheek. 

The toddler was fresh out of the bath, her brown curls still a bit wet, because the girl absolutely hated it when they tried to dry her hair. Her pajamas for tonight were a bunny themed footed sleeper, one of Zuri’s favorites. She liked to point out all the bunnies to her parents when they tucked her in, babbling incomprehensible stories about all of them.

Bobby sat down on his side of the bed against the headboard with Zuri on his chest, watching his wife walking around their bedroom in her silk robe. Any other day he would try to get her out of that same robe, but that was not in the cards for today. Bobby would have to be satisfied with just watching her, knowing she would come back to him later that evening. 

“Are you enjoying yourself?” Athena sounded amused when she caught him looking at her. She dropped her robe and got her dress from the hook on their door. The urge to tease him a bit more was strong but she remembered Zuri’s presence so she just got into her dress without a fuss. She zipped herself up, adjusting the dress a little before she turned around to them. 

“Mama pwetty.” Zuri mumbled around her thumb, her big chocolate brown eyes tracking her mother. She was lying comfortably on her dad, but she never lost Athena out of her sight.

“Mama is very pretty, Zuzu.” Bobby’s voice rumbled softly and he stroked her back gently. If he played his cards correctly she would be asleep before Athena put her heels on and applied her lipstick. He might be able to sneak another kiss, sending her off to her big award show.

Athena smiled softly and walked around the bed to sit next to Bobby’s hips. She put her hand on his and looked at their daughter who had closed her eyes by now. “Zuri is very pretty too.” Carefully, she bent over and pressed her lips gently against Zuri’s temple. The little girl didn’t move, indicating she was well on her way to a, hopefully, restful sleep. 

“You look good with a baby.” Athena shamelessly flirted with her husband over their sleeping daughter. Whenever she saw him with Zuri, her stomach flipped in a good way and she couldn’t wait to get him alone to show her appreciation for him being such a good dad.

After a few minutes Bobby moved a sleeping Zuri very slowly from his chest to their bed and put two pillows on both of her sides before he got up and could kiss Athena the way he wanted ever since he saw her in the bathroom. Once again Bobby put his hands on her neck to not mess up her hair, but still be able to keep her right where she was. Athena on the other hand could mess with his hair all she wanted so that is exactly what she did. Her fingers tugged softly on his strands while deepening their kiss, her tongue plunging into his mouth. 

They made out for a couple of minutes before Athena remembered what she was supposed to do and broke away from him, panting softly. Her legs felt weak but she had to move quickly to apply her red lipstick and put on her heels before her driver would be here. 

“You are making me so late.” Athena grumbled at her husband while she slipped on the second heel. She grabbed her purse from the bed, blew him another kiss before she rushed out of the house.

Bobby lifted Zuri from their bed to put into her own room down the hall. He started cleaning the house before he sat down to watch the award show. It didn’t take long for Zuri to wake again and cry loudly. Bobby got her out of her crib and brought her back to the living room to watch the show together. 

“You are okay, baby.” Bobby whispered in her ear and wiped her tears away. “Look, there is Mama.” He pointed to the tv where they showed Athena’s face when naming the nominees. She looked nervous and he wished he was right there to hold her hand, because there was no way she wasn’t winning this thing. Zuri laid against his chest, staring at the tv screen. 

Bobby shot up when they indeed called Athena the winner, jostling the toddler on his chest. Zuri got scared and started crying again when Bobby got way too loud in his enthusiasm. 

“I am sorry, Zuzu.” Bobby cradled the toddler to his chest and pressed his lips to her crown, gently bouncing up and down in an attempt to calm her down. It didn’t take long for the toddler to stop crying, wiping at her eyes to get rid of any tears before she looked up at her dad. 

“No loud.” Zuri furrowed her brows at him, which made her look so much like her mother when Athena was displeased. It made Bobby smile, pressing another kiss to her crown. They looked at the tv for a bit longer before Bobby turned it off and went back to their bedroom, getting ready for bed while Zuri laid on Athena’s side. He climbed into bed, pulling his daughter more to the middle of the mattress so he could put another pillow behind her. 

“Go to sleep, Zuzu. Mama will be home soon.” He whispered into her hair, laying down on his side and putting one arm around the toddler.

That was exactly how Athena found them sleeping a few hours later when she came home.