#IDK WHY BUT I ALWAYS FEEL SO BAD WRITING SO MANY TAGS. APOLOGIES FOR WALL OF TEXT NO ONE WILL READ

[sodapopbuoy]

my bugs

[binniesthighs]

hello stranger | reader x changbin |

a/n: I sincerely apologize for the pain caused with last chapter...so naturally, i had to go and write more pain muahaha. i also apologize for the wait on this one, for some reason i had a weirdly hard time getting this one out of my head, ahhh i think I’m just lil sad about it all ending :( but! we’re almost out of the woods cuties!! thank you so very much reading as always!! <3 this is the second to last chapter and idk how to feel ahhhh 

Part 7 

Pairing: self insert, female reader x seo changbin, female reader x han jisung 

Genre: strangers to lovers, fluff, smut, angst 

Tags: (of this part) college au, rapper!changbin, rapper!jisung, establishedfwb!jisung, artist!reader, skz side characters, bestfriend!chan, bestfriend!felix, roommate!minho, explicit language, some kissin’ and that good, good makin’ out, soft n’ intimate body touchinggg, mentions of getting drunk in the past, mentions of a toxic familial relationship, gahhh lots of crying and emotions in this one but it’s bc we’re figuring things out :) 

CW: dub-con-ish scene due to conflicting feelings but it gets stopped pretty quick

Word count: 7.6k 

Chapters 

PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 3 | PART 4 | PART 5 | PART 6 | PART 7 | PART ? 

Jisung shared his apartment with two equally messy boys. You had forgotten their names despite meeting them and seeing them around on more than one occasion. Lucky for you, they each had distinguishing features so you named them as such: tall one and younger one with white hair. Once upon a time the four of you had hung out and they weren’t unbearable, just a bit cookie-cutter as you had called it. Both of them were in the same music school as Jisung and didn’t have many other interests outside going to music shows and playing PC games while loudly shouting. 

There was never food in that apartment but somehow there was always dirty dishes in the kitchen. Sure, it smelled a bit like dirty socks, but you never paid too much attention to that when you would clambering in the door with your lips locked with Jisung’s. It was strange walking in not doing so. Tall one and younger one with the white hair sat on the couch eating pizza with feet kicked up on their banged up coffee table. They didn’t say anything as they watched you walk in, but merely rolled their eyes and pretended that you weren’t there anymore. 

“We can go to my room.” Jisung raked his hand through his greasy brown strands, then kicked aside approximately ten pairs of sneakers. He held onto your hand tightly--so tightly that his knuckles turned white. 

You nearly slipped on that rug that lined the wooden floors of their hallway. It wasn’t the first time. 

Just as the rest of the apartment was, Jisung’s room was strewn with all kinds of random articles such as dirty clothes, tangled up cords and old to-go containers. His bed was unmade; it was those navy sheets that likely hadn’t been washed in several weeks. You could never really pinpoint what they smelled like, just that they smelled like him. You had spent nights there too, but they were nothing memorable. No groggy mornings with coffee or sunlight streaked onto his features for you to admire in the golden sheen. It had been running late to class and the dozens of times that you had left jewelry and hair-ties. 

“Wanna sit down?” Jisung patted the spot next to him, and you did so. 

The two of you sat in silence, the atmosphere became thick with the tangible sense of disaster that hung around the both of you. It was catastrophic.

His trembling hand came reaching for yours, and you let him take it. He sniffled, and it triggered your eyes to fill with the same hot tears. 

For the first time, you wondered, what am I doing here? 

“You want to lay down?” His puffy eyes asked you. 

You nodded, crinkling those bedsheets that were probably full of dust. 

In all your months of knowing him, you had never, never cuddled. This was the first time and you really weren’t even tied together anymore. 

His nose had turned pink, and he rubbed a bit of snot away with his wrist. 

“Thank you for coming here.” Jisung whispered. “But--what are you doing here? I thought that you were with Changbin now?” 

I am. You thought briefly. Am I? 

“I just...so confused right now. I don’t know...there’s just...I don’t know...” 

A tear fell down Jisung’s cheek, and you couldn’t fathom why he would be the one crying when it should’ve been you. You wiped it away. You had never thought of it before, but seeing him cry brought a sting to your chest. 

Jisung leaned forward, and the bed creaked lightly, then he kissed you. It wasn’t really a passionate one, but one that he had used to say more than he could himself. His lips tasted salty running over yours, and your brain froze deciding what to do. Jisung never changed: as broken as it felt, he was still starving, needy, and rough. You tried to find meaning in it, or if it made you feel. 

It didn’t. 

Jisung held your face in his hands, and with a hesitant sigh, he said, “I really, really wanted to do that for so long.” 

As desperate he had seemed for you, you couldn’t find the same desire if you had tried. Maybe, you had to find it? 

“Kiss me again.” You hushed. 

He licked his lips with a gaze softening. “Okay.” 

This time he swung his legs around your hips and straddled you with the kind of pressure that you had craved, once upon a time. He bent down to press even more of his heated desire on your skin. He was a good kisser, and you remembered once again how you really had wanted to have him kiss you like this, once upon a time. His tongue slicked against your bottom lip and you gave him the permission, testing it out just to see. 

You had thought back then that he was unreal. 

Jisung rutted his hips down into your waist, and you had already felt how he had hardened in his sweatpants. 

You knew how it would go...or how it used to.

“Baby, I want you so bad. You have no idea. I-I don’t think that I want anyone else besides you--” He broke to meet your eyes. Your world blurred, and sobbed out from under his gaze. 

What am I doing here? 

“Baby, what’s wrong?” Worry flooded over his face. 

“I-I can’t do this, I shouldn’t do this, fuck--what the fuck am I doing?” 

“What are you talking about?” 

“Please just...get off of me. Please...” 

He did so, but still looked just as shocked. “Did I do something wrong?” 

He too started to tear up again. At last you could finally name what it was that tugged at his soft brown eyes. Fear. 

“Can you please tell me what I did wrong? Y/n, I don’t understand, you’re confusing me so much--” 

“--This isn’t right Jisung!” You nearly yelled with broken sobs. “We aren’t right.” 

Jisung’s face fell, crestfallen. “N-no--” 

“--We destroy each other!! Don’t you see?? Never have we ever been happy together, we’re just...coping! That isn’t love!!” 

“Then why the hell am I in love with you??” Jisung spat out the words, and then it was immediately evident that he had regretted saying them. 

A deadly silence fell over the room, and all that was left was the both of your weak sniffles. 

“What did you just say?” 

Jisung grabbed one the pillows then threw it down on the floor with a poof. 

“Fuck!!!” He literally shouted. His face had turned red, and snot dripped down to his lip. “I have fucking feelings for you okay?? Is that enough for you?” 

“Ji...yo-you can’t--” 

“I can’t what?! Is it a fucking crime? Listen, I’m scared out of my fucking mind saying this to you, alright? I don’t know why the hell I am but--” 

“--We-we can’t, Jisung..” 

“Can’t what?!” He threw his hands up into he air in his exasperation. “Stop fucking confusing me!!” 

“We destroy eachother.” 

Jisung grabbed another pillow to pummel to the ground, but then stopped himself, digging his fingers into the fabric until his nailbeds turned white. 

“We hurt eachother too much. An-and...I don’t think that it’s really our fault either. It’s just...who we are. I can’t give you what you want and you can’t give me what I want.” 

Jisung sobbed out horribly, then buried his face in his hands. 

“But I fell in love with you...?” His voice was terribly cracked. 

You watched as tears dropped into your lap and made little wet dots on your jeans. “I fell in love with Changbin...” 

His eyes were puffy and bloodshot, but still glistened, like the way that oil would slick in rainbows with the snow. 

“Then what are you doing here?” He asked one more time, but now he had appeared to be utterly broken. 

You rose from the bed, looking down at him and drying your face. “I...think I know why.” 

“And?” 

Outside of Jisung’s window, the view was similar to your own: city lights in an array of colors; each of them like stars on the ocean. On the wall adjacent from his bed, you noticed there was a crack. You had never realized that it was there before. 

“I’m admitting something that I should’ve a long time ago.” 

╚ ——————————————— ╝

You had likely forgotten to close a window in your apartment somewhere because the winter cold had pervaded the whole space. It took you about ten minutes to realize that it was in your bathroom from when you had taken a shower earlier to air let out the steam. 

The second thing that you noticed was the crumpled up blanket resting on the couch from before. For some odd reason, you felt the strong desire to wrap it all around yourself like you could capture some essence of him in it. Sure enough it did smell like that scent of his that you had grown so used to. You let the blanket trail behind you has you made your way to your room to pull on one of his shirts over your head. 

“Who told you that you could look so cute in that?” He had said one time. 

[23:16] Bin

me: can i call you? 

[00:18] Bin 

me: if you’re asleep, can I call you in the morning? if that’s okay? i said things that I didn’t mean...i just didn’t know it then. 

i’m so sorry 

how i treated you...you didn’t deserve that 

i understand if you’re mad at me. you have every right. 

i’m sorry that i couldn’t see that things that you were trying to show me. 

i see them now. 

You had thought that now the snow had finally faded into the edge of the winter that near it’s conclusion. Early March, and you wanting nothing more for spring buds to peep from the snow capped floral beds on street corners and for the white hugging the trees to dissapear forever. The winter had felt as if it had lasted for a year--even though this year you had seen less snow than other years. 

There had been a time when you firmly believed that once the snow melted, it would get better. Snow was a bitter memory, and it was curse that had to happen each and every year. 

The night that you had met Changbin, it had been cold. Cold like the winter that you had tried to hide from. You hadn’t thought of it until now, but he was much like the way that snowflakes melted on your skin. It reminded you of the icy coldness of the world for fleeting moments, then faded just as quickly as it arrived. The little wet mark of him warmed on your skin. 

Outside of the miniscule window to your living room, snowflakes got caught up in the edges of the frame, and sprinkled the surface of the glass in their variety of gorgeous fractals and unique shapes. A full moon was painted into the sky with a brightness that could’ve paralleled the sun on this clear night swimming in deep azure. 

You hugged the fabric of one of his shirts even closer to your frame, pretending for a moment that it was him that had been hugging you and not the cotton. 

“I’m so sorry.” You cried out weakly to the empty room. 

Your phone screen flashed with the time: [00:42]. You wondered, maybe he really had given up like he said that he would’ve. Maybe he walked home in the shivering cold, hands shoved into his pockets and decided that he was done waiting; that you weren’t worth his time and the effort. Maybe he walked in his front door, closed it behind himself, and said the words, This is it. No more. Maybe he walked into his room and cried. Maybe he didn’t. You couldn’t decide if you had wanted him to cry for you or not. Both hurt. 

[01:13.]  

Your eyes dragged with sleep, but your mind moved faster than the pace of your dry eyelids. Dust had settled on the white sheet that you had drawn over the painting in your room. On the underside of the sheet, globs of acrylic had dried and turned into multicolored flecks: a bit like the sheet was a piece of art and and of itself. It was nearly finished, and only had about one more quadrant left that was void of color. 

Your wooden pallet had been resting by the window, so it was cold to the touch--as were the little aluminum bottles of paint resting beside it. You used your shirtsleeve to dry away one tear that had battled its way to your lid, then sat back on your desk chair, facing the easel head on. 

Black first. Then deep blue, then bright yellow, burnt orange and gold. 

Hairs brushed over the canvas, and swept in wide strokes back and forth. With an empty mind, you smeared over the dark colors that faded to the edge of the canvas into the glowing light of the edge of the alleyway painted here. His figure was prominent, even though you couldn’t see his face. He wore black clothes that were simple. Frankly, you didn’t really remember what he had worn that night, but it didn’t matter much. Neon blue and red restaurant signs met on as reflection on his dark black hair. 

It was as if your chest and hand had been weighted down even further, but you fought through it to raise them. While you let the tears fall at first, they dried after long and made the skin of your cheeks tout. The room was silent, and so it was outside with the drifting snow. Soon, the painting would be finished, and you could sleep. You couldn’t sleep until then. 

if your art didn’t mean anything, what even was it? 

The pink lights lining your room provided the only light to the room, however not much else was needed than that. 

You bit your lip, now mixing yellow with red. 

If you couldn’t tell him. You hoped with every fiber that this would. 

[04:51] Bin 

me: if you’re up to it, can we talk? or, i can call you? 

goodnight  

wait its morning 

good morning then. 

╚ ——————————————— ╝

Chan was good at keeping his promises. There was not one time in your whole time in knowing him that he hadn’t kept a promise, no matter how absurd it might’ve been. He had promised you to buy you ice cream on the first day of snow, and he had promised to share his lyrics with you, no matter how much they would make him cringe. He promised that if you ever needed someone to watch your guilty pleasure reality shows with, he would be over as soon as he could. Next to Felix, you had figured a long time ago that if there were ever people in your life that you were destined to meet, he was one of them. Admittedly, there had been a time when you had harbored a crush on him, but as usual, you had been best at getting in your own way before anything could’ve happened. This, and you loved him as a friend too much. 

Too many jell-o shots were both of your enemies. Halfway into the driest seven minutes in heaven of your life, and halfway into your confession to him, he had passed out right in your arms. You were lucky that he had forgotten the event entirely. Or, he was keeping his promise that you had hurriedly made asking him to forget that it ever happened when you and Felix carted him out of there. 

While he was good at keeping promises, you more so wished that he had forgotten that one. 

Chan had promised that he would personally use his ID card to get into the soundproof booth in the music department to scream. 

You hadn’t ever taken him up on the offer until today. 

It was nearly midnight and unopened text messages still sat in in empty bubbles on your phone screen. 

Even though you had consistently texted “good morning” and “goodnight” for three days straight, the action of sending them didn’t make you feel any better. 

Chan didn’t ask any questions, but merely let you through the halls which echoed from your squeaking wet shoes. The green light of emergency signs appeared to be the only guiding lights, but Chan knew the way well. 

“Careful. The floor is slippery. They mop after everyone leaves.” He hushed in the silent hallway. 

Your fingers and lips cracked from the cold and felt tingly warming up in the dry heat of the building. The two of you turned two more corners, then Chan carefully wrapped his veiny and red hand over the handle to the door marked with “Studio Five.” He tapped his key to the reader, and it beeped with flashing green and orange lights. 

“Here. This is the entrance to the booth. I’ll enter from that door to get to the other side of the glass. You don’t...want me to go in with you?” 

“Want me to wreck your ears?” You have him a feeble smile. 

He mustered his own kind of strength that he had been keeping up just for you. “Hm. You’re right.” Your friend clicked on the light, and it burned your eyes at first compared to the black hall. “Take...all the time that you need, I’ll just be over there. If you wanna...talk about things, I’m here for that too.” 

The booth was an ugly shade of lime green, and you wondered how anyone could ever be creative in a place such as this. On the other side of the tinted glass, you watched as Chan flicked on the light, then made his way to push the button to the little intercom system. His voice buzzed with a tinny sound. 

“No one can hear you, so....go nuts.” 

The walls were too padded with black foam insulation, and for a moment you considered how strange it was, that you, had entered that place to scream--not make music like the room had been used to. Even though the walls were lime green. It still brought a sense of sadness to your chest. 

The room spun lightly behind your eyes, and you panted out frantically. 

What the hell am I doing in here? 

[23:29] bin 

me: I hope that you sleep well tonight. i’m thinking of you. 

“Is everything okay in here?” Chan’s voice said over the speakers. 

“W-what am I doing here?” You repeated the question, feeling panic rise up your throat. 

“Getting your anger out?” He tiled his head. “I-I don’t know why else because you didn’t tell me. You angry at someone? Something?” 

“N-no? --I mean, yes...I-I don’t know.” You said with uncertainty. Suddenly the foam walls of the room started to close in. “I need to get out of here.” 

“Woah! Woah! Y/n! What’s--” Chan chased you out of the room, back into the empty hallway with the squeaky floors and the green light. 

“Hey, let’s just...take a breather here for a sec.” Your friend reached out to smooth down your arms. “If you wanna talk about it, I can help maybe?” 

You tore from his gasp, then slumped against the wall to slide all the way down and sit on the cold linoleum floors with the heaters pumping steadily above your head. 

“He’s not...messaging me back, and I think that I royally fucked up this time. I think that I finally did it, I finally pushed him too far.” 

“Who? Changbin?” Chan crouched down to sit next to you. “Is that what this is about?” 

Shallow breaths filled up your lungs, “I think...I think I just lost everything that I could’ve had with him, and it’s all my fault...I’m fucking angry at myself, Chan.” 

“A-are you sure?” 

“I basically told him that I didn’t know if I wanted to be his girlfriend...after everything that’s happened, everything that he’s done and how patient he’s been...but...there was Jisung an-and...I realize that I didn’t mean it, I didn’t mean any of it, I want to be with him so fucking badly and I was just too caught up to see it and--” 

“--Stop!” Chan barked. “Stop and give yourself a second to breathe! Did you realize that you’re not doing that? 

You hadn’t. Nor had your noticed your shaking hands. However, Chan had seen them, and held them with his. 

“You said that you do want to be with him but you told him that you didn’t?” 

Somewhere in the hallway, one of the emergency floodlights blinked with a harsh white light. 

“Yes.” 

“And did you tell him that you didn’t mean it?” 

“I have but he hasn’t gotten back to me? He would always get back to me, no matter what it was--it makes me worry--” 

Chan cupped your hands then brought them to his chest where he held them earnestly. “Some things are out of our control, Y/n. And, I hate to say it but, now, I think you need to come to accept the possibility that maybe...” His gaze softened. “I’m sorry. I wish I could say something more or better but I’m not him and I can’t know...” 

You scoffed, “Is that supposed to be comforting?” 

Chan tsked, as he often would do with a little sarcastic drag to his voice. “A long time ago I promised you that I would always be honest with you, and you know that I hold to my word.

He rubbed his thumb into your hands. 

“Do you want me to say then to go running after him? Throw it all to the wind? Even if it doesn’t end up going your way?” 

“...Maybe.” You swiped a tear from the corner of your right eye. “Would it be worth it?” 

“Maybe.” He sighed. 

A silence filled the hall and the space between you two, and Chan kept holding your hand. It was a simple touch, but you hadn’t realized that you had craved something as such. 

“Y/n? Can I say something?” 

“Yeah?” 

“Even if it isn’t him that it ends up being, I think that you should know that you still deserve happiness in someone. Even after all that you’ve been through, you still do. It sounds like to me...you’re finally realizing it.” He smiled with a bit of a wrinkle to his lips. “I’m proud of you.” 

You squeezed his hand. “Thank you. Its...been a long time coming.” Your head hit the wall behind you with a slight thud. “I’ve been painting recently. And...it means something to me. I feel like I found something, like I’m seeing something for the first time in a long time and it makes me really... full. Like he does.” 

Your friend let go, then went to play with his shoe-laces. 

“If you don’t mind me asking, what was the final straw?” 

“He just...loved me different. Better than I ever could myself, and I think that it made me realize that in order for me to love him too, I had to make peace with myself, and just...” You breathed out a laugh, “...Chill the fuck out. But--I know that I can’t let go of it forever. What happened, made me. I can’t give that up, but that doesn’t mean that I should wallow in it forever. I don’t deserve that.” 

Chan leaned to give you a light slap to the arm. “Look at you.” 

“I...saw Jisung too.” 

While anger laced his voice, Chan remained level headed. “...And?” 

“Me and him just dug ourselves into a deeper hole. Even he...he could do better. He needs a “Changbin” too. You know? I can’t be that for him. I never was even close. I feel sorry. I should probably see him one last time...” 

The image of Jisung’s disparaged face burned in your memory in the midst of it all. Somehow you had forgotten that he had gotten feelings tangled it up in it all, and you had just left. Through all that you had been through with him, you couldn’t let it just go so easily. 

“There’s a lot of things that I need to make right.” You sighed out with finality. Next to you, your best friend did the same. 

“Whatever happens, Felix and I will be here for you. Like always.” 

“Mm. Thank you, Chan. Really. Thank you so much. The two of you are the best friends that I could ask for. I don’t know how you put up with me...” 

“Ahhh, don’t mention it.” He shoved his shoulder into yours playfully. “Ya know, if this goes south, we could just date.” 

“What?!” Your head whipped over to him so hard it hurt. 

“As I recall, about a year ago all it took were some jell-o shots...” 

You smacked him upside the head, causing him to burst out laughing in that empty hall. 

“I told you to forget about that!!” 

“I’m just joking!! Jeez! Can you take a joke!?” 

You laughed with him, your goofy and kindhearted best friend. You realized it hadn’t happened in quite some time. 

“Yeah Changbin is alright, but me and Felix are forever. Got it?” He teased, and you slumped your head on his shoulder. 

“I know.” 

In your pants pocket, your phone vibrated and flashed with a white light. 

[01:36] L. Minho 

minho: i fucking hate that i’m in this position 

but 

bin’s in a bad way and i’m fairly certain that he hasn’t told you about it all 

idiot. 

anyway, his parents are being shitty assholes and i think that he really needs you right now, even if he isn’t saying anything about it. actually i know that he does. 

i also wanna ask you to kindly resolve whatever shit that you have going on before you walk in our door. out of kindness for both yourself and him. 

sorry not sorry. i really do love the both of you and it hurts me to see it be like this. 

i suggest that you come over as soon as you can. 

Your heart beat its way into your throat with a million emotions, but out of them all, fear for Changbin ached the most. 

 “Chan, I have to go.” 

╚ ——————————————— ╝

It was likely Minho who had buzzed you in. 

Luckily, the night had somehow gotten warmer--at least warm enough to where you couldn’t see your breath in front of your face any more. Unfortunately though, you had still worn the shoes that Changbin would scold you for wearing on snow-packed nights. Luckily, the snow had started melted too. 

The door clicked when it unlocked, and you slid inside the glass entrance that was smudged with fingerprints and the wet from dog’s noses pressing on the surface. 

For a reason unknown to you, you decided to take the stairs--even though he had lived on the seventh floor. Partially you had decided that you had done so because it meant that you had more time with your thoughts; more time to decide if you really had resolved all the shit that you needed to leave on the outside of his doorstop. 

You thought back to the painting sitting finished in your room. It waited in all of it’s beauty for the sun to shine on it and the rest of the world to see it. For him to see it. It was for him that you had painted it in the first place. Every ounce of pain and confusion was lathered across the canvas, it was bare for anyone to see after you had kept it concealed for so long. 

He would see it. 

You took each step slow and carefully, and listened to the way that the sound bounced off of the walls and how the carpet matted on each stoop.

Chan had said, “Even after all that you’ve been through, you still do.” 

Minho opened the door after three clicks wearing a bathrobe and slippers. For being so distressed like his message had said, he looked perfectly cozy. You remembered that Minho really was one to keep it all together when shit would get intense. Somehow he had the ability to write whole papers over the course of one day and had passed tests after studying for only four hours. You wished you could manage as well as he could. 

“Fuck. It’s late.” He rubbed his eyes. “Come in. Take off your shoes please.” 

You did so, and rubbed your toes into their carpet. It was almost as if you were waiting further instructions, but you knew full well what you had to do. 

Minho glared at you expectantly. “Well? Shits left outside?” 

“Shits left outside.” You repeated with a nod. 

“l’ll let him explain. It isn’t really my place. Just--listen to him okay? I think that’s what he needs right now.” 

The apartment itself was a bit barren, the only things that were placed in the small space were the things that the inhabitants needed: a dining table, a leather couch, a TV set, a few beanbags and a kitchen kept clean by Minho. It was strange seeing a place so organized and...neat. It was as if this apartment was from an other side of the world compared to what you had grown used to previously. Changbin’s thick and dark black coat hung on one of the dining chairs, the same that he had worn the night that he had last seen you. You wondered if it had been sitting there these past few days. 

“Go on.” Minho flapped his hands to usher you down the hallway to Changbin’s room. At the end of the hallway was the bathroom, and seeing it flooded your skin with the feeling of warm water and defrosting skin, lips on lips with heated desire; tracing fingertips that got caught with the translucent stream of water as they brushed down spines and hips. If you could’ve gone back to then and done it all over...you wondered if you would’ve. 

“Knock first.” Minho mouthed. 

You did, breath hitching when it opened slightly, and you called out his name. “Bin? Its me. Can I...can I come in?” 

His hesitant voice called back to you, “Yes.” 

He was a crumble on his bed, black socks twisted up with his dark bedsheets and his hoodie riding up his back to expose a sliver of skin where he laid facing away from the door. His beautiful dark hair was knotted. 

“B-Bin? A-are you okay?” You advanced forward carefully, reaching out to touch his arm. You had never seen this confident and headstrong man reduced to something so small, it broke your heart into shards to see him as such. You didn’t know what to do with yourself: sit with him? Stand? Crawl in to bed next to him? Unspoken words filled the air, and he sniffed out loudly into it. 

“Thank you for messaging me still.” Was what he had said first. “I saw them a little bit ago. I was...too scared to open them at first...your messages. I was...ashamed to...” 

“--Bin,” You took two steps closer. “You don’t have to explain yourself.” 

He sniffed in with a clogged nose once more. “I’m sorry.” 

Two more steps. “No, I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry that I didn’t listen to you, and took all of your patience with me for granted. I really don’t deserve it. I tore you up, and that was awful of me. You somehow ended up being collateral damage to me figuring my shit out and I can’t say I’m sorry enough. I understand if you don’t want to keep this going that we--” 

“--Can you get into bed with me?” He suddenly interjected. Changbin twisted his hand back as if he knew that yours was there in some superhuman way, and grabbed at it. “It’s...cold.” 

Your heart paused, uncertain if you had heard him correctly. 

“Please?” Changbin muttered. “Two bodies is warmer than one.” 

Silently, you crossed the room and shimmied off your coat so it fell to the floor. It had been partially absentminded, but you had pulled on one of his shirts that day. It was light grey, and had nearly lost all semblance of his scent on it. You pulled the covers over both of you, peering just enough to see his puffed and red eyes and red wet nose. Seeing him like this, you had to fight every instinct to pull him into your arms, but rather keep a respectful distance. 

From seeing the way that he dominated the stage to how he looked under the soft glow of your pink lights, to how he had looked as thin and as fragile as glass now, it had all finally made sense to you. As brash and forthcoming as he was, it wasn’t all of who he was in the slightest. If anything, it was who he had pretended to be. 

Tears fell over his pink lips. “I didn’t tell you because...I was embarrassed. Fuck,” He laughed a little, “It’s so fucking pathetic. I’m so pathetic for getting so messed up over this all. I-I shouldn’t. That and...it’s not something that you should--”

“--Don’t you dare say that I shouldn’t worry about this Bin. How many times do you need me to say it?” You traced his dark hair over his ear. “What happened to being each other’s problems?” 

He smiled with a weak grin, then wiped his eyes with his sleeve. “Minho didn’t tell you?” 

You shook your head. “He said that you should be the one to.” 

Changbin sighed out, then pulled the comforter up to his nose, adjusting himself to meet your eyes with his that were strained with pink. 

“They’re disowning me. For real this time. They asked me to do a legal name change and everything...as if...they’re cutting me out of the family line. Fuck, I mean, they basically are.” 

His chest shook with an inhale, and a thick and burning mucus felt as if it had clung to your throat. It was anger and rage, the kind that was so foreign to you, it even started you to feel such a thing. 

“Bin, I’m so sorry. They’re...they’re fucking less than human is what they are. Treating you their own son like this...like they think that they can reverse time so that you were never even born of them...” Under the sheets your knuckles clenched so hard it bit the skin of your palms. “I-I’m sorry too...that you were going through this by yourself--” 

In one single motion he had spread out his arms to circle them around your upper body and pull it into hm. 

There he was again. Rosemary and cedarwood. 

You were in shock, but feeling the warmth from his body on yours made you shiver--it was the contact that you had craved so intensely now that you had it, it was so all encompassing that your brain scrambled feeling it. 

“Thank you for coming.” He whispered to the top of your head. 

Your hands snaked around his body, and you held him back. 

In that very moment, you had decided that you would spend the rest of your life holding him back if he would let you. If there was someone out there listening to your thoughts, you prayed that they would let you hold him. 

Changbin patted to top of your head with a trembling hand.

“What the fuck do I do?” 

Your fingers tugged at the thick cotton of his hoodie. 

“They said that either I meet with them to sign away my name, or I pack up, and go back with them as if nothing happened. They said that they were willing to “forgive” everything that I had “done” if I chose to come back home with them, so to school, and forget everything that I’ve ever written, performed...” 

“They said that??” 

The young man remained silent, but instead nuzzled further into you. 

“They said that they could arrange for a meeting with their legal team to finalize it in as little as two days if I decide to do it. Those assholes expedited the whole process and called up their lawyers to make it happen as quick as possible...” 

“Bin...” You cooed, and smoothed up and down his back. Being close to him like this you could nearly feel his own heart breaking in his chest against yours. 

“Do I forget everything that I was to chase this...dream? Or do I go back, get their support, live a normal life...” 

“--Stop.” You gently pushed his hand away to look up at him. “This, all of this is your life Changbin. It’s what you’ve worked hard for relentlessly and it’s what makes you happy, isn’t it? Yeah, it’s harder to do, but you’ve gotten so far, people love you! You’ve made a name for yourself, people want to hear your music--” 

“--Yeah, my names gotten itself out there a little too well for my parent’s opinions.” 

You wiped a tear cascading from one of his exhausted eyes. “They should be proud of you, not trying to suppress you.”  

“They...don’t want me to be Changbin any more. Do you know how that feels? I’ve lived my whole life being me and now they just want to take away the very last thing that I have that they didn’t touch?” He stifled a sob. 

“Hey! Just because you change it on paper, doesn’t mean we have to call you that!” You laughed out gently, “If you want to get a driver’s license or something it might be important...but, you’re always going to be Changbin to me, and Minho and everyone else who knows you. A name is just a word. You make up who you really are.” 

Changbin laughed out, then returned his hand to pat at your head. 

“Who told you to say that?” 

You chuckled back at the way that he had turned your words back on you. “No one.” 

“I’m just me, but...” Under the covers, your legs intertwined. “I think that if we compare a life of missed oppurtunties to a life where you leave a couple things behind, its worth leaving.” 

Body heat swirled between the two of you, and it was as calming as a song. Changbin brought his hand down to caress the side of your cheek with as much gentleness one would with those fragile snowflakes. 

Past his shoulder, your eye caught a small piece of paper that had been pasted to the wall above his desk: right in a space where he could see it if he had sat at his desktop. It was crinkled and held several creases and the lead that had been used to draw on it had smudged as if it had rubbed up against itself. 

It was a picture of a bench, some Christmas lights, and the city skyline behind it.

Tears flooded your eyes, and then fell freely onto his his fingers where he held your face. They caught in the corners of your mouth, and heated up your eyes. 

“Woah, hey, what is it?” Changbin rubbed away the wet and pulled you even closer to him. 

“Y-you kept it?” Your voice wavered. 

“Kept what?” 

You pointed a shaking finger to your drawing posted on the wall, and his eyes widened at first like he was embarrassed, then he slowly faded into something much softer. 

He nearly whispered the words, “Of course.” 

“W-why?” 

“It reminded me of you and that night. I think that I realized something then.” 

“What’s that?” He wiped your tears once more, stretching the skin of your face as he did so. 

“I realized that, well...I’m in over my head here.” He laughed out lightly. “Do you need me to say it again? I love you a fuck ton, alright? Getting over things, and healing from things...it’s not easy. You...don’t have to apologize for the mess of things and what it did to you. It’s not your fault.” 

You threw your head into the crook of his neck to sob openly. But I hurt you. I made you wait...I-I don’t wait you to wait any longer.” 

“And I made you wait too. My stupid...my parents fucked me up too, and I couldn’t get over the fact that this fucking mess that they made of me put a wedge between me and you. I didn’t feel like you deserved...I’m a mess too. A fucking nervous, cocky bastard at times and I don’t know how to talk about it. Isn’t that pathetic?” 

“What?? No--” 

“You wanna call it even then?” He grinned out, and it was his sly little smile that you had found yourself thinking of after you had seen it for the first time those months ago. 

“I--” 

“Damn. It does feel kinda good to talk about things.” He joked. 

You cried out his name even harsher, then melted into his whole body. He was boundless in the way that he had understood you, and how he had looked you without condition or pause. 

You don’t have to be scared any more. 

With your face muffled in the fabric of his shirt, you let the words fly of your tongue with reckless abandon, and it felt as if you had finally been rid of the crushing shroud fogging your mind, and chaining your heart. 

“I-I want you to be...my Changbin. An-and I want to be--” 

“--Wait!” Changbin pulled you back by the shoulders with a new and wild smile on his face that only grew wider by the second. A type of excited panic flamed in his chocolate brown eyes. “Willyoubemygirlfriend???” He said at light speed. 

You were confused as to why he had said it as such, but you nodded, finally feeling the sense of respite that you had searched so hard for. “Y-yes?” 

Changbin startled you with his sudden crack of laughter, then squeezed you so tight that it became hard to breathe. Once he let go looser, he bowed in deep to press dozens of kisses on your mouth and around it. Most of them missed the mark, but that didn’t matter to him. He only stopped for a couple moments to mutter the words, “I wanted to say it first.” You would’ve laughed had he not been attacking you incessantly with more and more pecks that you struggled to keep up with. 

“I-I’m sorry again that I made you wait--” 

Changbin rolled his weight over to lean carefully over your body tangled up in the sheets, then kissed away at your lips with “don’t say that’s “ quietly. “Thank you for trusting me.” He said quickly, then returned, pouring out oceans of admiration onto your lips until they felt a little raw. You kissed him back too, and you kissed him like you wanted to spend your whole life holding him back. His blissful little “oh’s” tickled at your lips, and you giggled at the way that they vibrated. 

Once you had properly kissed nearly all of the air out of each other’s lungs, you laid back, gasping, and each still a bit bewildered. 

“Thank you for trusting me too.” You turned your head to look at him where he lay with quickened breaths quaking his chest. 

“When I go through with this name thing, can you...be there?” 

“Yes.” 

“Thank you.” He said, barely loud enough for you to hear. His strong hands fell down his shirt which you wore; down to the small of your back where he snuck up the fabric. His fingers tickled at your tiny hairs there. 

“I have one more loose end to tie myself. One more place that I need to make peace.” 

Changbin nodded. “Mm. We’ll get through it together.” 

To your surprise, Changbin then took to pulling his sweater over his head, revealing his bare chest, then pulled off his pants from his legs a bit awkwardly under the covers. 

“W-what are you doing?” 

He giggled, then pulled at the hem of your shirt for you to do the same. 

“Trust me.” He whispered. 

You held his eyes as you did, and your bare skin too met the crinkling edges of the sheets which were a bit colder than you had expected. Changbin watched as you did so with a prideful little grin. 

“I-I’m confused.” You hugged your arms over your cold torso. 

“You’re so gorgeous.” He merely muttered, uncrossing your arms for him to look at you fully, then pulled you by the under sides of your chin back to his lips. He pulled gently at your bottom lip with his teeth. “Clothes were getting in the way.” He hushed, then set to unhooking your bra behind your back. 

“Getting in the way of what?” 

“Me being as close to you as I possibly can.” 

While he had said the phrase calmly, it still sent heat rising straight to your cheeks. 

“I want to hold my love like this for as long as she’ll let me. Can I?” 

Your two bodies met in the middle, flush, buzzing with a kind of giddy energy that only heightened the more curious that your hands got eating up each other’s presence. 

“As long as you’ll let me do the same.” 

You couldn’t quite tell, but it had almost felt as if Changbin had scribbled little invisible messages into the skin of your back. 

“Isn’t it obvious?” He answered. 

You took his wrist to kiss at the line of a scar that lived there. Naturally, Changbin blushed rosy from the action--then promptly pretended that he just hadn’t. 

~🌹~

Bunch of (Ro)ses! 

@minaamhh @dazzlehoseok @synnocence @jjewibeans @hyunsluvv @unexceptional-h @bobawithchaitea @lechanters @sailorhyunjinz @silencefavarchive @eunaeiekim @lunarskzzz

[myjjbaby]

okay so the idea is reader taking one (or many) of jj's shirts without asking him, and every time he sees her with one of his shirts on he's like 🥺🥺 and finally she says she likes his smell and wears them because of that and idk some fluff (sorry if this is bad it was just an idea i had)

white t-shirt

author’s note - this kinda deviated from the original request but it just happened because your girl is angsty. happy first time writing in a month to me!! (apologies in advance im rusty). thank you to lisa @angellissy for being my hype woman as much as im yours because this wouldn't happen without you so. couple folks who i love who asked to be tagged so: @baby-bearie @dpaccione (taglist? yes or no? someone want to teach me how?) please also know that even as my dash returns to normal and im writing this doesnt mean ive stopped or anyone else should stop advocating for black lives matter so please do all you can loves :))

synopsis - requested by @strkydrw! JJ isnt used to public affection and it creates a wedge between the two of you. which JJ isnt about to let happen.

warnings - mentions of anxiety, smidge of angst, and a swear cause i felt like it. 1.7k of comfort!boyfriend!JJ

JJ Maybank was not one for public displays of affection. He was so used to going it alone that he couldn’t fathom someone wanting to love him for the whole world to see. You were okay with it, really you were, it was just something that made the blonde who he was.

Through your time together he became more lenient. A short peck in front of the Pogues or rough fingertips brushing the skin of your waist when your shirt rose up at a kegger. He loved you and that’s all you could ask for.

But to say you weren’t needy for his affection would be a complete lie. Curling into his side at the Kook’s walk-in movie, being able to love on your perfect boy for the whole world to see, but little hand touches were enough for you if it meant JJ was yours.

You had a bad day. A crap day. Everything that could’ve gone wrong, did and now you want your boyfriend. You needed JJ’s arms to wrap you up and push all your worries away. Unfortunately, that wasn’t going to happen.

You were at a party at the Boneyard, like most summer nights on Outer Banks, and your personal security blanket was far too busy by the keg to take notice of you. Pope was sitting next to you on a piece of driftwood. The sweet boy had a knack for reading you and the Pogues like an open book. He could spot your glowering from just about anywhere.

“Pope, I’m fine.”

“Yeah and I’ll leave you alone when I believe you.”

“Pope,” he glared at you, “okay, okay.”

The two of you settled into a calm silence. Pope sipped at his plastic water bottle, which Kie had already ratted him for, and you fiddled with your fingers, relaxing at JJ’s smile in the distance. A frown slipped over your features just as quickly as your sweet smile had appeared.

“Y/N?”

Turning your head to the dark skinned boy, you appreciated his concerned smile but honestly you’d rather bask in your misery alone if you couldn’t have your blue-eyed boy.

“I’m gonna walk home,” Pope’s eyes followed your movement as you stood, “tell JJ for me?”

Now he knew something was off, though you and your boyfriend were never outwardly affectionate, Pope knew of the silent love you shared. The fact you didn’t want to tell JJ you were leaving nor grasped the opportunity to squeeze the blonde’s hand was unsettling.

He watched you slip away, staying out of the firelight so JJ had no chance of catching your departure. He waited until you disappeared over the dune and started your short walk back home before practically bounding across the beach and gripping JJ’s bicep.

“Woah Pope, quite the grip there.”

“Y/N went home.”

“What?”

“Y/N left.”

The blonde quickly scanned the sandy beach, eyebrows furrowing when he didn’t find your familiar figure. He glanced back at Pope.

“Do you know why?”

“She seemed upset.”

“What? Why didn’t sh-”

“I don’t know, but that’s not the point,” he flicked the side of JJ’s head, “the point is that your girlfriend needs you so bust a move.”

Pope barely got the last words out before the blue-eyed boy practically sprinted through the crowd.

You were a mess by the time you reached your familiar grey house with tears streaming down your cheekbones as the screen door slammed behind you. You pushed your way through the house, feeling your legs ready to give out under your weight.

You slipped out of your clothes and goosebumps rose across your skin, the summer breeze chilled against your tanned skin. Pushing your jackets and sundresses aside in your closet, you reached for the worn white t-shirt tucked behind the rest of your clothes. The stained Pelican Marina shirt was one of your prized possessions. JJ had asked you about the article of clothing before saying how he lost it and wondered if you had seen it.

You denied everything.

The t-shirt always calmed you, the smells of the salt air and JJ’s weed, it made you feel like you were curled up in his hold. With just his shirt on, you slid under your blankets and pulled the knitted fabric to your chin. You tried to ignore the wetness of your skin and the pinch in your chest that even JJ’s aroma couldn’t solve.

You were so distracted by your waves of emotions you nearly missed the soft revving of the motorbike in your driveway. Your heart clamped when you heard the soft murmurs between your boyfriend and your dad as they undoubtedly worried about your off demeanor.

“Y/N?”

Your breathing felt erratic as you quickly closed your eyes, praying you wouldn’t have to admit anything to JJ. You waited for him to leave after a soft sigh slipped through the crack beneath your door, but instead you heard the familiar creak of wood against rusted hinges.

You silently thanked your past self for laying down with your back to the wall because you knew you’d crack under JJ’s crystal gaze. Willing your lungs to settle, you felt his familiar warm touch settle over the fabric of his shirt you were wearing. The soft movement of his fingers kneading into your back nearly caused a whimper after longing for the boy’s touch for so long.

“Baby? I know you're awake.”

Mentally cursing your boyfriend, you rolled over to your side as JJ pressed his body closer to yours, practically laying on the bed now.

“Hi.”

“Hi sweet girl.”

He sweetly pressed his lips to the tip of your nose, smiling against the skin when he felt your cheek against his hand warm up. The blonde tried to pull back to admire your flushed features but you hid your face in his neck. You smiled when your actions emitted a chuckle from the boy which filled up the silence in your room.

This was what you wanted more than anything. Your perfect, loving JJ holding you close and kissing you tenderly, but not like this. You wanted to feel adored outside of the safety of closed doors and four walls, but that wouldn’t happen. You pouted at your ruined daydream.

“Hey, hey,” JJ felt your frown against his tanned skin, “baby, you have to tell me what’s going on.”

“It’s nothing.”

“Y/N…”

“Really, it’s nothing, J, can we just forget it?”

“No.”

“J-”

“Tell me.”

You stayed silent, breathing in his presence, the pinch in your chest finally releasing.

“Baby, please?”

“Are you embarrassed by me?”

“What?”

He pulled away from your touch as he frantically searched for some kind of explanation in your eyes.

“Sweet girl? Why would you ever think that?”

“You’re embarrassed to be seen with me.”

“That’s not true.”

“You have to force yourself to kiss me in front of your friends and you won’t talk to me, much less touch me in public. It’s like I’m dating different people, JJ. The boy I fell in love with and some guy who’d never give me the time of day.”

“Bab-”

“No,” you sat up, letting his once comforting arm slip off your body, “I had the worst day and everything was too much and I just needed you. I need you, JJ. But I didn’t even want to tell you because I was scared you were going to brush me off. I don’t want to have to think twice before going to you, I shouldn’t have to but I jus-”

You were cut off by a harsh sob that was building up in your throat throughout the day. The weight of everything pulling you down for too long. Your cries, however, were quickly muddled as JJ pulled you into his warm, taut chest. His pillowy lips pushed against your skin, shushing you in comfort.

“I’m so sorry, Baby, I’m not embarrassed by you. For fuck’s sake, you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I’m sorry. I’m just not used to it, I guess. You love so proudly and the fact that I have you is overwhelming. I’ve never done this before, loving someone. I wish you had told me, sweet girl, I love you so much, angel. So much and if you need me to hold you or kiss you or whatever, just tell me, okay?”

You nodded against the soft fabric of his navy shirt, your sobs giving out to breathy whimpers. It was peaceful like that, the room completely dark except for the moon and stars shining through your curtains and your boy holding you tight as you laid on his chest. You leaned back to stare at his serene facial features and watched as he fiddled with the hem of your clothing.

“Baby?”

You hummed, settling back into the crook of his neck.

“Is this my shirt?”

“Umm, maybe?”

He felt your skin heat up against his and smirked, trying to catch your eye in the dim light.

“Why’d you take it?”

“I don’t know, I just wanted you with me when I couldn’t have you.”

“Don’t be embarrassed, sweet girl, I like you in my clothes. And you can always have me, okay?”

You hummed again, drowsiness forcing your lids closed. JJ shivered as your eyelashes fluttered over the smooth skin of his neck.

“What do you think of wearing this to tomorrow’s boat day with everyone?”

He mumbled into the night, smiling at the idea of you laying out with his shirt announcing you were his, but his suggestion went unanswered because your were already fast asleep in the comfort of the blue-eyed boy’s arms.

[ahsbitch]

Something Strange In The Air (Part 2)

Word Count: 2544

Summary: In the aftermath of your...incident with Michael, you’re still tumbling to figure out what you’re doing. 

Warnings: It’s probably bad idk, oral (male receiving), face fucking, degradation, Mean!Michael & Being Mean To Michael, blue balls, waxing poetic, lots of cursing (as always), idk i can’t think of any others 

A/N: Sorry this is really short and sorry it took so long I’m in college so I’ve been busy and I was writing a oneshot for a different fandom which took some time, the next chapter will have more plot to it and stuff I promise, my apologies for shitty writing and being a super slow writer, I’m doing my best I promise. As always, comments (even just in the tags) are always ultra appreciated!!!!!

Mini Tags: @wroteclassicaly @1-666-coven @michaellangdonstanaccount uhhh there are others but i can’t remember if i forgot to tag you i’m sorry pls remind me 

ALSO I PUT IN THE KEEP READING THING BUT IT REFUSES TO WORK SO SORRY ABOUT THAT

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

There was poetry flashing through your mind.

Some say the world will end in fire

Bits and pieces. 

Death, be not proud

You couldn’t get him off your mind. 

Doing a man’s work, though a child at heart 

Couldn’t get your dream off your mind. 

For the moon never beams, without bringing me dreams 

The way he had looked at you, in it, how he had held your hand.

He kindly stopped for me-

Michael often called you little witch,

Leave my loneliness unbroken 

But he had never called you his little witch, as he had in the dream. 

There will be time to murder and create

He was beautiful, almost angelic in appearance, you had to admit.

From what I’ve tasted of desire

And he pulled you in, in spite of how hard you tried to ignore it

I can no longer remain away from you

It was almost disgusting, how much you thought about him. 

Curse, bless, me now with your tears, I pray

There was something about him that frightened you.

One short sleep past, we wake eternally

A lot about him that frightened you, actually. 

A waking on a morn

“Y/N,” Cordelia spoke, and you could tell from her tone that this wasn’t the first time she’d said your name, “Are you with me?” 

Shit, you’d gotten distracted. 

You’d been called to a meeting in Cordelia’s office, made it to one of the chairs, and immediately spaced out. 

You hadn’t really seen Michael in almost a week, nothing more than passing glimpses in the halls and quick pulses of his energy in the air. You’d been avoiding him. Or maybe he’d been avoiding you. Honestly, you couldn’t remember. You hadn’t spent a single night in your bedroom, instead floating around to parties and going to the swamps to practice your magic rather than spend time in the study room. 

Fuck, things were getting complicated.

“I’m with you,” You smiled cautiously at her, “I’m sorry.” 

She smiled back, something you couldn’t quite determine just behind her eyes. Concern, of course, her whole aura was clearly very concerned, but something else, and then she was speaking, her voice as calm as ever, “Don’t be sorry. Are you feeling okay?” 

Of course not.

“Of course I am!” 

“Try again,” Her hands were folded neatly on her desk, and you dropped your gaze to look at them, Cordelia’s words making you feel a strange sense of shame, “I’m a little worried about you, Y/N.” 

Your ears were burning, your heart jumping wildly in your chest, “I’m sorry.” 

She sighed, shaking her head, “Don’t be sorry. Just... what’s going on with you? What’s going on between you and Michael Langdon?”

Shit.

“What do you mean?”

“You haven’t been sleeping in your room, or studying in the house,” Cordelia looked at you strangely, and you held your breath, “Have you still been fighting?”

She didn’t know.

Thank fuck. 

“Yes,” You responded, perhaps a little too quickly, “Yes, we have. We just can’t seem to agree on anything.”

Not entirely untrue.

She nodded sympathetically, and you were relieved to feel that she believed that was it, “I’m sorry. I feared something like this might happen. But Y/N, you need to return to your room.You can’t be out every night, and you can’t do all of your studying in the swamps. You’re still a student here. You have to be present, at least sometimes.”

“Okay,” Nodding, you worked on getting your breathing fully back to normal, “I’ll be back in my room tonight.” 

“Good,” Cordelia reached out and squeezed your hand gently, “I’m proud of you, Y/N. You are a powerful witch, and a good woman. I believe in you.” 

Not able to make yourself respond, you simply flashed her a smile and bolted for the door, blinking back tears.

Fuck, she’d bee so disappointed if she knew the truth. 

You were barely out of the office when the door to a closet opened and someone tugged you inside, slamming it shut. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“What the fuck, Michael?” You snapped, blinking into the darkness. 

Michael’s hand clamped over your mouth as he let out a growl, “Be quiet, little witch.” 

You worked your mouth until you managed to clamp your teeth onto the skin of his palm, biting as hard as you could. 

“Fuck,” He hissed, jerking away from you, “That hurt!”

“Good,” Glaring, you reached for the cord on the light and tugged on it, the weak bulb flickering overhead, “What the fuck?”

Glowering at you in the dim light, Michael crossed his arms, “What did Cordelia want?”

“None of your business.”

“I’m pretty sure it is,” Shaking his head, he scoffed at you, “It was about me, wasn’t it? Does she know?” 

It was childish to play dumb, and you knew that, but you were doing it anyway, “Does she know what? Why would we want to talk about you?” 

It took only a single step for Michael to back you against the wall, pinning you there with his hips, "Don’t even bother with that shit. Answer the fucking question.” 

You shoved at his chest, although even you had to admit that it was a halfhearted push. His proximity, especially after so long away from him, was overwhelming, and you felt your mind slipping to a place you didn’t want it to be, “Get the fuck away from me, asshole.” 

Another shove, and he wrapped his hands around your wrists, holding them over your head, “You weren’t asking me to do that last time we saw each other, were you, little witch? Now. Does Cordelia know?” 

“No,” Growling, you tried in vain to pull your hands back, “We talked about you, but she doesn’t know about that. Now let me go.” 

Tilting his head to the side, Michael laughed at you, “How many times do I have to tell you? You’re not the one in charge here.”

“Fuck you,” You spat, beginning to shake with something between fury and a feeling that you didn’t quite want to acknowledge.

“This is a pretty color,” Michael shifted both of your wrists to one hand and brought the other down to trail across your lips, tapping at the soft flesh, smudging a bit of the golden sheen, “Did you put this on for me?” 

Ever since that day in the study room, not that day but the one before, you had taken to wearing more and more lipstick, coating your lips in a new color everyday. 

Today was gold, one that shimmered when the light hit it, and if you were honest, yes, you did put it on for Michael. Every time you reapplied a coat of lipstick, today and every other, he flashed through your mind, the sneer on his features, the echo of his words in your ear when his fingers were down your throat. 

“You look good like this...Gagging...You wear revealing clothes and you act like you’re doing it for yourself...But really you’re just a dumb, depraved, desperate little whore who wants nothing more than to be dicked down by your rival.” 

Fuck, just thinking about it sent a wave of wetness gushing through you, and you tensed your legs in an effort to ignore it, and the smirk on Michael’s face told you that he had noticed. 

Yes, you were wearing it for him. 

“No,” You had to crane your head to glare at him with how close he was, “I don’t know if this is the first time you’re hearing this, but not everything is about you, Boy Wonder.” 

He hummed, drawing his fingers along your cheekbone, and you cursed yourself for the way you leaned into the contact ever so subtly. After a moment he pressed his lips against yours, and although you fought to keep yourself in control, to keep from kissing him back, cursing yourself once again when you couldn’t hold yourself back, your noses smashing against one another, your mouth slipping open with a groan, quickly intruded upon by Michael’s tongue, which battled fiercely with yours. 

And then suddenly he pulled away from you and stepped back, and you fell to your knees as he chuckled, his hands unbuckling his belt, “All the same, little bitch, I think that color would look wonderful smeared all over my cock, don’t you?” 

“I fucking hate you,” You glared up at him through your eyelashes as one of his hands gripped your hair, the other pulling his dick out of the confines of his slacks. 

“That just makes this all the more pathetic, doesn’t it?” He slapped your cheek with his dick gently, and it wasn’t lost on you how perfect it was, the size and the ridging and and the pulsing veins and the furious pink of the tip all making your mouth water, “Get up and walk away if you want, little witch bitch. But I don’t think you will. I think you want this. I think that being a little whore is the calling you’re pulled to most.” 

Get up and walk away.

You could do that. 

He pulled his hand from your hair, letting your head drop back, and you knew that if you moved to stand he would release you, would let you go. His precum had leaked onto your face as he continued to hit your cheeks, waiting to see what you would do. 

Just get up and walk away. 

But you couldn’t, couldn’t bring yourself to walk away without having the chance to taste him, not when the very thought was sending arousal roaring through you, and while you wished you could directly blame this on Michael, could say that his magic was holding you in place, that simply wasn’t it. 

You opened your mouth as wide as you could and in an instant his cock was down your throat, Michael setting off to fuck your face at an intense pace. 

Gagging, you brought your hands up to his thighs, and when your nails scratched against his legs through the fabric or his dress pants Michael let out a high, desperate groan. 

Although you couldn’t quite smile at that, with how full your mouth was, there was a little voice gloating in the back of your head, and you squeezed his thigh tightly, drinking down his moans as you moved until his own back had hit the wall, his hands desperately moving from your hair to your shoulders to simply slamming down on either side of his body. 

“Your mouth is good for something, I guess,” Michael grunted, as though he wasn’t as desperate for you as you had been for him a week ago, “You’re much prettier when you’re not talking, did you know that?” 

You managed to flick back your middle finger enough to flip him off, although you didn’t pull back to make a verbal response. There was something urgent about this, and the idea of dropping him from your mouth seemed too great a sacrifice to make, when the harmony of Michael’s shockingly soft, animalistic moans mixed with the lewd, wet noises of his dick hitting the back of your throat was so disgustingly lovely. 

Michael’s hands twitched, as though he was going to grab at your hair again, and at that moment he seemed to finally notice your own magic in the air, holding his wrists in place.

“You little bitch,” He snarled, straining against the magic, but all he could do was buck his hips into your mouth even harder, letting out a hiss as your teeth grazed him, as your tongue swirled around his head, “Let me go.” 

But where’s the fun in that? 

You didn’t let him go, and you didn’t stop. If anything, you grew more intense, your hands managing all over him, sneaking past the fabric of his clothes to leave angry scratches on his skin, so smooth underneath your touch. Eventually one of them trailed to his balls, tugging and toying with them roughly as he began to strain even harder, began to make a choked noise at the back of his throat that made your thighs clench, and you knew he was going to cum soon. 

You pulled your mouth off of him. 

He looked down at you with a raised eyebrow, panting, desperate, watching as you trailed your tongue over every inch of his dick, pulling his balls into your mouth and sucking them slowly, and finally you pressed a kiss to the skin just above his cock and leaned back with a grin.

“What the fuck,” Michael growled, although his face showed a kind of manic desperation that he clearly wasn’t used to, “Get back to it!”

“No, I don’t think I will,” Your smile got even wider, although your mouth was sore and your voice scratchy, you decided it was worth it, “You call me a little bitch all the time, but who’s the bitch now, Boy Wonder?” 

“Y/N, I’m serious. I will ruin you,” Snarling in spite of the pained expression starting to grow on his face, he thrusted against you, and you let out a giggle at that. 

“It’s so cute that you say that while you’re humping my leg like an unfixed puppy,” Shaking your head, you took a step back, out of the range of his hips, and looked down to admire his flushed, throbbing dick, “You were right, y’know. The gold does look good on there .Especially the contrast it has with the blue of your balls.”

He looked down to see that your words were true, the skin becoming overtaken with a pale, bruise like color, and when Michael looked back up at you there was something murderous in his eyes, “Quit fucking around. Let me go, and finish.” 

“Why should I?”

Arms straining against their magical containment, face twisting with the growing pain in his balls, Michael’s voice had grown croaky, “Do it. I will never touch you again, if you walk away from this, do you get that you desperate little whore? You want me. You need me. Do what I fucking tell you.” 

“I think there’s been a serious misunderstanding here, Langdon. I don’t need anything from you. You keep saying you’re the one in charge, but look at you. You’re nothing but a little blonde bimbo. So fuck you,” You scoffed, trailing a single hand across his chest and giving his nipple a harsh pinch, letting out a laugh at his angered whine, “And by the way, Cordelia says I have to move back into our room. I’ll be back tonight. I’ll see you whenever you get around to being the powerful warlock everyone thinks you are and break through my magic.”

With that, you pressed a quick, chaste kiss to the corner of his lip and turned away, not bothering to fix your own appearance before you went out, turning the light off before you closed Michael in the closet. 

You were proud of yourself, you had to admit. 

Scared, perhaps, of what he might do, and curious as to whether or not he’d keep the promise that he’d never touch you again-not that you wanted him to, of course, you were just curious-but you were proud all the same. 

Fucking Michael Langdon. 

[svu-ncis-criminalminds]

You Left

For @yes-sir-hotchner who requested : I was thinking maybe Hotch (from cm) and reader are childhood best friends and it’s kinda like a love triangle (where reader likes Hotch) and at some point reader says “you weren’t there! I spent the most awful years of my life without my best friend” and she breaks down crying bc of all the bad things that have happened to her. Sorry if it’s so long and all over the place I just think it’s be so cool for someone else to write something I wanna reader idk but tysm if you do it and please tag me

You fidgeted nervously with the visitor badge clipped to your sweater. You’d just gotten back to Virginia that week after spending several years living out on the West Coast. The elevator you were on dinged and you stepped out, suddenly on the edge of a very busy room. People were walking in all directions, some on phones, some with stacks of paper but everyone looked like they were in a rush.

“Hey, can I help you? You look lost.” A woman appeared in front of you and you couldn’t help but smile slightly. She had her hair all done up and her makeup was flawless. Her dress was colorful and had polka dots and she was wearing an eccentric pair of glasses.

“I’m looking for Aar-Agent Hotchner’s office?” She nodded and smiled genuinely, pointing towards the other end of the room, you followed her hand.

“Right up there, it says his name right next to the door.” You thanked her and nervously made your way to the door. You hadn’t seen Aaron since you left. You’d been unable to make Haley’s funeral and it was still something you regretted immensely, even if you did send flowers, you knew it wasn’t enough. You reached the door and read the title, “SSA Aaron Hotchner” you remembered when he was still a prosecutor. Hell, you remember him long before that. With a deep breath you knocked.

“Come in,” A familiar voice called and it felt like coming home. ‘No.’ you had to tell yourself. Too much had happened, and while the voice still belonged to the man you knew and loved, you knew once you opened that door the memory would be gone and replaced with a new reality. So you breathed in deep and opened the door. Aaron looked at you from behind his desk, pen in hand. “Can I help you?” He didn’t recognize you, but he looked practically the same just older.

“Hey Aar,” you didn’t mean to whisper the old nickname but you did and he looked at you with his eyebrows knitted together in confusion, before suddenly you got to watch realization dawn on his face.

“Y/N?” It wasn’t often you got to see Aaron in full shock.

“In the flesh,” you joked. He got up from behind his desk and came to you, eyes still wide and mouth slightly opened.

“What are you doing here?” He asked, stopping just in front of you, eyes scanning up and down as you took in the sight of his old friend. You shrugged slightly, crossing your arms over your chest nervously.

“I’m back in Virgina, you changed your cell phone number. I knew you still worked for the FBI and I wanted to.. Get ahold of you.” You explained. That was what had hurt the most. When you found out your job was moving you back East and you tried to call to tell him you were met with a disconnected number message. He never contacted you with a new one. Just like that he was gone, and you weren’t going to let that happen again. At least he had the decency to look ashamed.

“Y/N, I’m-” Someone opened his office door, a pretty young blonde woman, she glanced at you then looked at Hotch.

“We need to go. I’m briefing everyone on the plane.” Hotch nodded and turned to you.

“I’m sorry,” You weren’t sure if he was finishing his last apology or giving you a brand new one. You nodded your head and shrugged smiling slightly.

“It’s okay.” Aaron went to his desk and grabbed something before scribbling something on it and coming back to you. He handed you a business card and you turned it over to see a cell phone number.

“Call me, I promise you we will catch up when I get back.” You nodded and pocketed the card.

“Sure.” And with that you watched him walk away, another familiar sight.

---

You entered the coffee shop and looked around, spotting Aaron towards the back of the shop, back to the wall and two mugs on the table. You approached, giving him a half smile.

“Hey,” He greeted, gesturing for you to sit, “I hope peppermint tea is still your favorite.” That shouldn’t have upset you as much as it did. You sat down and stared at the steaming mug. Of course it was still your favorite, but how dare he do that? How dare he just so casually remember such a small detail from your past when he couldn’t even remember to pick up the phone and call. “Are you alright?” He asked and you looked up, eyes slightly glistened.

“I’m fine Aaron. Now I am.” You hadn’t intended to start off like this immediately, you did want to catch up a bit before easing into the confrontation that was well over do. He frowned.

“What does that mean?” you laughed slightly, shaking your head.

“You know what? This was a bad idea.” You went to grab your purse but Aaron grabbed your wrist instead.

“Dont.” He shook his head, “Don’t do that, Y/N. You always do this, sit down and talk.”

“I always do this?” You asked and he winced slightly, realizing maybe that wasn’t the right choice of words. “You don’t know what I always do, you haven’t seen me, spoken to me in years!” You were trying hard to keep your voice down in the public venue you had mistakenly agreed to.

“You left,” He reminded you, leaning forward slightly and keeping his own voice down, “You chose to do that.” You pointed at him, jabbing your finger slightly.

“You know why I did that. I lost you as a friend long before that.” Aaron groaned and leaned back.

“No you didn’t,”

“Yes I did Aaron! Haley never liked me and you know that! I was your best friend and she didn’t appreciate it.” You were visibly upset, someone at a nearby table looked at you and you made a face back at them. Aaron tisked at you, god he wasn’t always this boring. “You-You knew I loved you. So did she, but I knew you loved her. We were okay as friends, but you took her side and you deserted me.”

“Y/N-”

“Shut up for once and let me talk, you asked me, let me answer you,” You took a steadying breath, “You promised you would always be there and that we would always be friends and you broke that promise. You weren’t there, Aaron! I spent the most awful years of my life without my best friend. And I couldn’t even reach out. And then I move back, and I went to call you to talk to you. To get some closure for myself and you’ve changed your number, no word to me. Do you know how that feels?” You asked, and he just looked back at you. “Thanks for the tea.” You grabbed your purse and stood up.

“Y/N,” You didn’t turn to look at him, instead you walked quickly towards the door. When you got outside you made a left and began your not too long walk home, not turning around once. “Y/N,” He called again, jogging to catch up to you.

“Leave me alone, I said what I wanted to say,” You continued to walk quickly but he easily met your stride.

“I didn’t to reply.”

“I don’t want to hear it,”

“That’s not fair”

“Tough shit Aaron,” He laughed and you finally stopped walking, turning on him, finger pointed at his chest, “Don’t you DARE laugh!” You yelled, and he stepped back hands up.

“I’m sorry, I know it’s not funny I just… I missed you, even this part of you.” You glared at him. He tried to step towards you and you stepped back still glaring. “You’ve always been passionate. Fiery.”

“Stop! You have no right to tell you you’ve missed me or that I’m passionate, you have no right to remember my favorite drink or anything, you’re not my friend Aaron, I don’t even know you.” He nodded his head.

“Alright. You’re right. Okay? You’re right, you’re right Y/N.”

“Fuck off,” You turned and started to walk again. Maybe you’ll get a cab just to get away from him. He followed again.

“I’m being serious! You are right! You know how many times I wanted to call you but I couldn’t because of my own guilt? I knew I hurt you, alright? I knew you loved me, and I did-did love Haley. But that didn’t mean I didn’t care any less about you and it was hard, but we were married. And I felt guilty, alright? I felt guilty telling Haley there was nothing to worry about when I knew that was partially a lie. I would never cheat on her but every time I looked at you I felt like I was, emotionally at least.” You stopped again, but didn’t turn to him this time. “I thought I was doing what was best for you and me and Haley. I couldn’t continue how it was and I am so sorry Y/N, that I did that to you. Please look at me.” You looked over at him.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” You asked. He shook his head.

“I couldn’t. I wanted to and I should but I couldn’t bring myself to. And I regretted it, but then you left and I thought maybe I really did do the right thing. You were leaving to live a wonderful successful life.”

“I was running away.” you admitted and he nodded.

“I know that now and I am sorry. I’m going to make it up to you I promise.” You shook your head.

“I don’t need you to make it up to me, Aaron. I need.. your friendship in my life and I need you to do better this time.”

“I will.” He nodded, “I will. Do you…” He trailed off and you waited, “Would you like to meet my son?” You smiled slightly and nodded your head.

“I would.”

[hughiecampbelle]

Novelty Pt. Two (Thomas Shelby Oneshot)

Character/s: Tommy, Shelby family mention

Word Count: 1,606

Requested: @captivatedbycillianmurphy @parochialism

Inspired By: @parochialism

Tag List: @dontdowhatisayandnobodygetshurt

A/N: First, if you're going to give anyone credit for the plot, we should all thank @parochialism :) Thank you my love!!! Your idea was so lovely and I felt so stuck about what to write, your reply was so incredibly helpful and I couldn't have written part two without you!!! Second, I really like writing parts to fics! I'm not sure I'd be able to write more than just two parts, but I thought the same when it came to this! Third, this is the longest thing I've ever written and idk, I'm really proud!!! I'm proud of how it turned out! I haven't been able to say that in a while, but I think I needed a lil break from mini-fics to get back into the swing of writing. Feedback is always appreciated my loves! 💜💖💜

~ FIC MASTERLIST PART ONE. / PART TWO. ~

PART ONE.

A curse, the greatest loss of them all, to see young love die.

He could have burned them, used them as an ash tray, put his cigarettes out on them one by one until it held the whole pack. He could have thrown them away, tearing them apart, shredded to pieces. But he didn't. Instead the divorce papers sat there, lifeless, collecting dust in the corner of his desk. Other papers, books, things of more importance stacked on top. Neglected, just like your marriage. Didn't matter, not really, it sent the same message all the same, no use in trying. No one could divorce a Shelby. Tommy never would have agreed despite the lack of love he felt for you, and no lawyer dare let you set foot through their doors with a last name that dangerous. If you'd known all those years ago this is where you'd be, sitting, waiting for him to react through the thin walls of the office, bracing for the worst, you never would have said yes on those fucking tracks.

He knew how you felt regardless of those papers. It was clear the space between you was growing, opening a pit you wished, you hoped, you'd fall into one day. Two lives lived separate, coming together only when neccesary. Grew up, apart, wanting different things. A man of power, he cared more about the toy soldiers he sent out, doing his dirty work for him, than the spouse he left at home each night, rotting alone in the bed they used to share. Greedy, angry, hungry. This was his life, his business, you were nothing more than a tiny, mangled piece of the puzzle. Meant to speak when spoken to, appear on his arm with a smile and only good things to say, put on a good act when there were eyes watching. When there weren't, he didn't give your actions much thought. You weren't even sure you existed out of his line of sight.

You came to family meetings. Not to nod and smile, the family knew just how you felt about one another, but because you had every right to be there, same as the rest. Your feelings for Thomas didn't bleed out towards the rest. Greeting Pol, Arthur, John, Michael, even Finn with a kiss on the cheek, a kind word, a lighthearted quip towards their brother or cousin. Sweet as ever, complimenting you quietly. You were their small reminder of the world before the war. A lifelong friend before an in-law. Someone to cherish, to protect. Regardless of what your husband felt for you, they still loved you. You sat with them instead, an us vs. them. None of you afraid to call him out, to stare in those deep blues and question him, his authority. He needed that, to be knocked down, challenged, learn that the world would not bow or smile per his beck and call.

You didn't work for him, or any of them. This wasn't your place. He wanted to be the provider, for you to wait long hours for him and him only, but you wanted your own freedom, your own worth. Found a shop. Used your maiden name. They all knew, but no one dare say a thing. Hired you on the spot, your boys visiting often per his request. Checking up, making sure you behaved. It wasn't much, but it was yours, and that was enough. Quiet, without him. A place of escape, to fill your own time with. No guns, no bodies, it was safe here. He knew his place, not to set foot. You had your own territory. This was yours. Untouchable, sacred. Tommy still knew his place sometimes.

You thought about leaving, disappearing, packing your bags, showing him you meant what you said. And you had, a few times, caught yourself on a train ride to nowhere, but you always came back, wasting the day, frustrated with yourself. You weren't only leaving him. They were your family, too. Your nieces and nephews, brothers and sisters, your friends, people you cared for and who cared for you. It was your home, too. The same place you grew up, a place you never really wanted to stay too far from. It was yours, not just his. He'd find you unpacking, shoving the suitcase in the closet, knowing what you did today, why his men couldn't find you working. There were a lot of things you gave up becoming a Shelby, a lot, but your home would not be one of them.

No one defied him the way you could. There was an art to it all, a dance. Though he wanted to be the one in power, you always lead. Slamming a bowl in the sink, a drawer shut, a door or simply stomping your foot. A reminder that you made noise, that you were to be heard. Rage pickled under your skin, burning your eyes, sharpening your words. Nothing touched him. He was just as ruthless, uncaring, slicing you to shreds with the things he said. You knew one another better than you knew yourselves. All his soft spots, weaknesses, fears, they sat on the tip of your tongue, ready to pull the trigger. Broken bits strewn across the floor, neither of you picking it up. It was no shock to the rest of the world that the Shelby's were unhappy. The way the help spoke, you weren't surprised. Left to pick up the pieces, the two of you unable to look at one another, word spread quick.

There were others. Other bodies he spent the night with, other smiles he charmed, buying drinks for, other hands he kissed. It was easy for him to find a companion. Strangers threw themselves at him, falling for the same eyes you did. Those lipstick stains were not your shade, nor were the scratches on his back by your nails. He gave up hiding it, and you gave up caring. You stopped looking for one another for that kind of comfort. He wasn't the only guilty one. Trips to London, where no one had to know who you are, where no one needed to. Dressed up just for them, needy for attention, a touch, to be wanted. No feelings, no names, no strings, just mindless, naked fun. You never let yourself get too close, too attached. They'd face a fate worse than death. The animosity meant you and them were safe. He never asked where you were, what you were up to, as long as you were home by Sunday.

Sometimes, though, those stars would shine through when he looked at you, the barriers crumbling, the walls falling. He'd carry to the car, bring you home when you drank too much at the bar. Tuck you in under the covers and apologize softly, sorry for the man he's become, sorry for the life you live, sorry you're stuck with him, this new him. After particularly bad fights he'd sigh, convinced you were asleep, apologizing for the things he said, wishing he'd been able to take them back. He apologized a lot when he thought no one was listening, when he could drop this angry facade, revealing just how tired he truly was. Laying beside you, over the blankets, his tie loose, jacket long gone, he'd apologize for all the things wrong in the world, wrong in the marriage. Apologize for taking your youth, stealing so many years from you, for never giving you the family you always wanted, the husband you always wanted, the one he promised to be in a past life. Sorry for this, and that, and everything else. . . .

It didn't fix anything, it didn't make you love him the way you used to, it didn't make him the man he used to be. There were still fights, nights you spent floors away from one another, in beds that weren't your own, in booths trying to drink your problems into oblivion when you hated the very sight of him. It didn't prevent you from staying with Esme and John, taking the couch at Pols, even disappearing back home with your side when that house felt too haunted. It didn't fix a goddamn thing, and it never could, but it humanized him, a corpse he'd been carrying around since he stepped off that train.

It wasn't hate. You never hated him as a person. You hated the words he said, and the things he did, but there would always be peaks and hints of the boy you first fell for. You were mourning in your own ways, bitter, crying for a loss no one else could see or feel. For the people you always pictured yourselves being, the houses you'd have, the life you'd live, the children you always wanted to have. Never would you raise on this environment, not now. Mourning your lost youth, your own broken heart. It was a marriage of grief, a graveyard of wedding vows, made up of dead promises. This was never like anything the two of you expected, and that was something to grieve for. It wasn't easy watching happy engagements turn into a lifetime of unconditional love. It wasn't fair. Faces younger than your own had been still happy to this day, their hair white,terth gone. Til death would they part, you guessed. . . .

When your request was denied by the very man who promised to do whatever it was to make you happy was the day you realized, no matter what you did in this lifetime, your own grave would still have the name Shelby carved into it.

[mystic-sky]

Do you have any headcannons for when Yuily and Mikhail are in heat (or something similar)? Thx

I’m assuming this stems from the imprinting nsfw one shot I did a while back? I’m not too familiar with werewolf mythology lmaoo. I hope I did okay? I know it’s a little long but please let me have this  Tagging this as NSFW but in my humble opinion it’s pretty light from what I usually write. Enjoy love~

Yuliy

I honestly believe that Yuliy’s childhood never really had time for “the talk.”

All concepts of sex probably eluded him until he hit puberty. Maybe Willard leaves a couple of books on the boy’s bedside, and tells him to ask questions once he’s finished. To Yuliy’s dismay, he did as he was told and held any further questions to himself until he finished all the sex ed literature.

I think it’d be sort of funny, because he’d start reading and think something was wrong. Had the professor given him the wrong book? Certainly not, since all of them were about the same thing.

Once he’s 15, he probably grasps the entirety of everything.

It starts with a fever, to which everyone thinks is normal. He’s stuck in bed for two or three days.

 Lots a sweating. He doesn’t like being clothed at all. But he adheres to the rules of society and remains dressed during the day.

He’s hungrier, like, so much hungrier. The boy’s skinny yet agile body consumes so much food this time of the year but doesn’t gain any weight. 

He does and doesn’t notice it in the beginning. It’s not until the excessive sexual aching starts that he’s aware something’s going on with his body.

He’s a reserved guy, so he doesn’t really like asking people for help all the time. He didn’t think that it was anyone else’s business but his own whenever he wanted to relieve himself more than once a day during his heat.

He’ll get dizzy and he sweats a lot still. He’ll tell everyone he’s tired and then go lay in bed, tossing and turning trying to figure himself out. He’ll teeth at his pillows and sheets. And he has a bad habit at nipping at the skin on his hands when it feels too good. No one can tell either, since he heals so quickly.

His baths are abnormally long during this time of year too, and Philip just doesn’t know why.

He’s pretty observant though, and he knows that it’s just him. Philip’s clearly as aloof as ever and he’s never seen Fallon get the dizzies and hot and bothered like himself. He’ll often think “Maybe they’re just better at hiding it than I am?”

As tempting as it is, he wants to ask Fallon about it. And eventually he does, but good lord, the boy can’t get the words out.

And Fallon’s a nice guy, not really pressuring the boy to spit it out so quickly. He gets what he means almost immediately. He tells him that it’s normal and that people do it all the time. 

His first crush, say its our Reader, would be pretty awkward for him. He starts identifying his sexual feelings with his emotional ones and directs them towards you, even though it feels wrong in the beginning.

He’s read his first erotic novel by now and then some, courtesy of Willard, and he can’t seem to imagine himself with you in that situation.

You were stupendously attractive to him, and always smiling at him. You were friendly with him, and always talking. To which you might have thought was annoying but it made things all the more easier on his own less talkative nature.

Then he has the dream about you, his first wet dream. Because until now he had nothing real to fantasize about.

Now you’re all he thinks about. In the middle of the night, in the bath. He wants to feel you more than anything. 

This though, is only during his heat. He’s pretty shy and reserved any other day. And if he can, he will refrain because you’re his friend and it still feels very wrong to him.

He goes into heat the next year, and it’s the worse it’s ever been.

His burning urge to mate keeps him up every night for next couple weeks, even after he brings himself to orgasm.

He’s realizing he wants human contact. And with his emotions in a mess having learned so many things about his brother and father, throwing his sexual desire for his crush in the mix made things very complicated- at least in Yuliy’s head. Everyone else is completely oblivious to his abnormally heightened sexual behavior.

What’s even worse is when he can’t orgasm because his body won’t let him. His nature has expected him to mate by now, but it’s a work and progress on his end.

Maybe you see him one morning and he’s the grumpiest looking thing ever. He’s got bags under his eyes and he tries his best to greet you normally like nothing’s wrong, but you suspect something’s stressing him out.

He still won’t tell you, and he’d be mortified if you found out.

He tells the professor finally, and he can only speculate it’s because of the werewolf boy’s heritage. The professor assures him it’ll pass, since it always does.

A few nights later he gets restless and takes a cold shower, which seems to be the only thing he can do to get himself to sleep for a few hours.

His body’s hot still even though he just came, and maybe you find him in the middle of the night lying against a wall on a quest for a glass of water.

He’s shirtless and he’s got a towel on his head but you know it’s him. You’re frightened a bit cause he’s sweating and panting profusely. You think it’s fever, and offer him some of the water. You offer to go get the professor but he stops you, and pulls you close to him. You’re on all fours and sitting between his legs but none of that caught you more off guard than the blue crystalline eyes that looked at you through his soaking wet bangs. 

He’s just panting at you, and the glass of water is surely all over the hall floor.

The towel slips off his head and onto the floor as he pulls your lips to his and presses a hard kiss against your mouth.

He pulls away and apologizes immediately. The boy rushes back to his room and avoids you for DAYS. He’ll wait his heat out before showing himself to you again.

Whether this moment happens or not (that’s completely up to you) his s/o learns about his werewolf bloodline eventually.

When Yuliy’s in a relationship his s/o can find keeping up with his heightened sexual behavior a bit overwhelming.

He’s often out of character, and he’ll be more touchy with you around company.

If you want to and can keep up with it, there’s a lot of sex during this time of year.

He’ll lose himself whenever he enters your warmth but somehow his stamina feels like it never drains.

He wants to be dominant 100% of the time, which I can imagine is different from your normal sex. It’s almost like you’re sleeping with a different man. 

Mikhail

He hasn’t been in heat since he turned, but I guess this will be a mixture of hypothetical AUs for your satisfaction.

Say he got his first heat when he was 13 or 14. Perhaps he turned when he was 15? But he looks younger than 25 after the 10 year time skip? But then again vampires are ageless… My brain fumbles here idk (I’d love to talk about theories of his age if anyone wants to msg me)

So he gets his first heat, and his mother is the first one that notices. Even though she’s human, Alexei was sure to tell her what’d it’d be like for both the of boys once they matured.

It starts out with the intense fever, lots of sleeping for him especially. Yuliy starts to notice that Mikhail is “sick” and can’t go hunting with him.

After the fever subsides, he tries to go back to his usual routine, but it’s hard.

He’ll eat more at dinner time, and Sachi is quite aware. It sparks a change in Yuliy, who now solely eats to be “big and strong” like his big brother.

Mikhail’s clothes don’t fit him anymore, and maybe an unusual growth spurt occurs here (mostly in height). It might have something to do with all the food he eats, but for the most part there isn’t any bizarre weight gain. 

Even when Sachi makes him new clothes, or let’s him wear some of his father’s clothes that he’d left behind, he doesn’t want to. His body’s too hot.

He wants to be naked all the time, and Sachi will come to find that his fever is reoccurring itself because he goes out every night in the snow to cool off.

She finally gives him the talk, and it’s when Yuliy’s fast asleep upstairs. His reaction isn’t too surprised, but he only wishes he could’ve had the talk with his Dad instead.

He’s still restless at night but at least he knows why now. His mother leaves the rest of his discomfort to him to figure out on his own when he’s alone in his room.

There weren’t a lot of people in their village. Especially not many from his age group, so I head cannon he see’s his first sexual preference in a near by town when he goes on a shopping trip and he’ll never forget it. 

Maybe it’s our reader, and he’s smitten by you. He left on the trip because he wanted to get as far away from family for a while. He sees you and the sexual atmosphere seemed to have followed him all the way out there.

His nature will force him to make conversation, and he’s more than enticed by your personality. Maybe you both become good friends and he’ll visit you often. He’s quite the flirt.

But he’s still young, and he thinks nothing much of it. He goes home and has his first orgasm in the middle of the night because of some dream he had about you. Sure it stemmed from a stranger, but he didn’t mind.

And because of this, he gets sleep for the first time in almost a month.

In a different AU, where he might not be vampire at all, he’ll have successfully learned how to handle his heat all on his own, cause he’s independent like that.

If he has an s/o, he won’t tell them about his heritage for a while. They’ll find about it through the same stages: the fever, the excessive sleep, the hunger, then lack of sleep and restlessness. 

If him and his s/o are at that point in their relationship he’ll walk around the house in sometimes next to nothing, and he’ll insist that it’s just because he’s hot. Even in winter weather, you’ll start to think your boyfriend just has a fetish for being naked.

He gets so kittenish, which is a bit different from his usual Dom behavior. He’ll rest his chin on your shoulder and nibble at your neck while you make dinner. 

And he’s almost irritated when you tell him to wait until you’re finished and he’ll whine at you, which is beyond his usual self. 

He’s the biggest, horniest baby. 

And if you don’t know about his heat yet then you just assume he’s taking a break from being the dominant one for a while.

Mikhail hates asking for help though. And it’s not until you find him one night on the bathroom floor in a pool of sweat, panting deeply.

You’re scared and you don’t know what to do. You think you should go call for help, but he insists he’s fine and that he just wants you come lay with him.

You tell him that you’ve had enough of this behavior, and that fever kills people, so you’re getting help. So he comes clean, and explains that no doctor can help him right now. 

After a glass of water and few damp clothes later, you’re a bit stunned. He tells you it’s only once a year, and that you don’t have to abide to having excessive amounts of sex with him if you don’t want to. 

“I’ve been dealing with it for years now. Don’t be so worried.” But how could you not be? 

I’d like to think this talk you guys have on the bathroom floor brings you closer.

So instills the sex therapy. He’s so submissive during this time, aching to be touched. 

You try your best not to tease him, but every tickle or brush of skin to skin makes him crumble at your feet. 

He’s actively trying to be dominant still and it’s almost amusing. He’s stuttering his words beneath your touch, and he often reaches orgasm pretty quickly and collapses from exhaustion.

Then there are the days when he can’t get off right away, and his werewolf stamina is in full motion until he does.

My favorite werewolf boy in heat

[yeetdam]

Could you ship your mutuals with silverboys/treasure 13? I’m curious 🙀

smh i accidentally closed the tab before i could save it fml but anyway: instead of studying maths and after killing my body with a 45 min workout, i am here to answer this ask that was long overdue thank you anon for being so curious uwu!! also i apologize i might’ve got carried away skjdl and this is not proofread in any shape or form

@yoonbins x yoonbin is the couple that tries to keep it low but everyone knows that they’re a thing imo 💖 mini god kara i’m not trying to call you out but yoonbin would gladly accept that s***** from you anytime úwù skinship in public isn’t really their thing, but if bin is feeling bold, he’d secretly hold her hand under the desk klasjdklajs kara isn’t one to show her emotions a lot but it’s fine bc yoonbin is an attentive guy and just knows how smitten he is for her!!! not really the most romantic couple out there, but when it comes to banter? OOF nobody can beat them what a pure relationship (also, expect long cuddle sessions when it’s just the two of them teehee)

@byounggonsgf x byounggon is the power couple everyone on ygtb tumblr and their MUMS know of and approve of: first of all, visual wise?? GOD TIER. SUPERIOR. YOU WISH. we all know how much of a visual kweenie angel zeen is, and we all know how hot gon is (pls the entire fandom has a crush on him) and the two combined?? YOUR FAVS COULD NEVER (unless your favs are zeen and gon uwu) also, just one glance at zeen’s tags just show how much love she harbors for him and i imagine her to be the type to write stuff abt him in a seperate notebook and when gon finds out, he’ll go all out and arrange some romantic candlelight dinner or shit 💖 in other words, they’re the disgustingly sweet couple you’d see in romance anime uwu

@ggoncafe x byounggon is also a ship i advocate !!! he’d do anything to make ess smile and laugh; it’s one of his fav sights after all - especially that thing that ess does where she scrunches her nose whenever she laughs??? he is SOLD. WHIPPED. IN AWE. i feel like gon can be quite the romantic in his way and would write so many songs abt ess lskjdlkj aside of that, ess strikes me as the type to annoy the shit out of him just for fun LMAO - it’s nothing bad, imagine this: she’d text him in capslock and keyboard smashes just to garner his attention and then, he’d face time her and try to be fed up but in reality? he’s glad she did that? bc that gives him the perfect excuse to see her lkjsdj 

say what you want; okay cool you think the earth is flat fine then but not thinking that @mashilove x byounggon is a cute ship? sis you’re abt to cATcH ThESe HaNDs - uyen radiates something akin to big mom energy: maybe it’s partly bc she’s just as old as gon but her tags to everyone just SCREAM soft protective nature 💖 also i feel like uyen, as great as she is, sometimes deals with huge insecurity issues and gon would try his best to lift up her spirits and convince her that she is a beautiful child of the angels the world doesn’t even deserve!!! we are talking abt gon dedicating 28398309 songs to her and cuddle attacks and soft shit oof

looking back i realize byounggon also has a mf power harem and to finish it off, i also think that @speckofglitter x byounggon is the couple you should be scared of. why scared? bc they’re gonna make you set your standards so impossibly high AND THATS THE TEA 💖 gon picking up tiyi after her lectures at university? every time when he can afford to? which is pretty much every second day? and if he has much free time before he’d make sure to buy some food for tiyi? it doesn’t help that he’s a soundcloud rapper of course everyone’s gonna have high standards! it doesn’t stop there tho; just imagine them trying some couple dances like ellen and Brian hnnngh 

@junkyeu x junkyu is ! so ! pure !!!! junkyu would be so so smitten and so so proud of Linh and he’d take any opportunity to boast abt her. she’s so beautiful? he’d say that to every second stranger they pass by. she’s a multilingual queen? he’d tweet it out several times a day, post it on his snapchat, probably write it on a wall “LINH IS A MULTILINGUAL LEGEND YOUR S/O COULD NEVER 💖“ and so on. he is so damn supportive up to the point where it might be a little excessive to her but she still loves him dearly :’) the harshest thing she might do is prolly insult him lightly in any language he doesn’t understand LMAOOO

1/3 of the seunghun harem ship i support is @kimseunghoney x seunghun ! yet another couple that would flaunt that they’re together but guess what?? everyone is LIVING for it 💖 christina is such a soft fluffball who’s trying her best to get through her exams and seunghun being the supportive (yet needy) boyfriend he is, would partly distract her partly help her?? he’d be the type to randomly come over to her place with the reason of wanting to help her study bc ! good ! grades ! is ! what ! she ! wants ! but then five minutes later, he’d try to get her to take a break and then woo her to a nap bc she’s been working so hard uwu (also, the perfect timing for him to fill up his camera roll full of pics of christina saljdlk)

2/3 of the seunghun harem is @seunghunies x seunghun 💖 now with those two combined,,,, get ready for the skinship and disgustingly domestic and tooth rotten fluff between them uGh [edit: the latter got deleted WHY TUMBLR WHY SMH so starting here is the cont.] seunghun is the type to show off that vale is his up to the point where he might shove it up everyone and their mum's faces jskdk but it's full of love!!! Snapchat? Instagram? Everywhere — he's gonna say how much he loves vale during an ig live or in his story dedicated to vale and vale ONLY 💞🤧 also!!! Restaurant dates!!!! So many!!!! They'd go taste testing in the entire city !!!! And he'd take so many pics of her and the best thing abt the cute shit? Vale plays along!! (At least most of the time teehee) say he'd want her to pose for the camera? She'd gladly do it- unless she's feeling a little sneaky then she'd do anything to mess up the snapshot kajdjdjkdk we love banter 😜💓

3/3 of the harem is @seunghunn x seunghun uwu THE. SOFTEST. COUPLE. IN THE UNIVERSE. mashikyu doesn’t compare anyway, we’ve already established how much of a passionate lover hun is right?? and i peg seunghun the type to crave his s/o’s attention at any time possible so if you ever lay his eyes off him, he’d do anything to win your attention back! perhaps one might say that maddi cherishes her sleep more than our #1 furry king and if she’s particularly stressed, she’s heading straight to her bed and to the one-hour nap she desperately needs. depending on how hun is feeling, he might either a) play the big spoon and nap with her sdjlkjsa or b) be the whiny bitch he is and try to wake her up (ofc only if he’s 100% sure that she wouldnt mind as much as usual) 💖 in case he guessed wrong and woke her up while she’s pissed, he’d make up with some good homecooked food UGH

@moonxlika x hyunsuk is the badass couple who always hype one another up you don’t even KNOW. be it a competition or a game, you can bet that one is cheering for the other - unless they both participate, then it’d be a mixture of “good luck uwu” or “i’m gonna beat your ass just watch me” 💖 they’re the type to bond over their music taste and seriously lika and hyunsuk aren’t afraid to show that they’re a thing it’s so cute kljfl you know that some ppl get embarrassed when their s/o suddenly does a hoe drop or dresses really hot like with chokers or shit? then there are some ppl who get pissed / jealous / idk at least not embarrassed and shy when their s/o does that? neither of them fall into any of those types. say hyunsuk is suddenly out there with a choker and what do i know a mesh shirt? lika strikes me as someone who’d go yES BITCH THAT HOT DUDE RIGHT THERE IS MY BOYFRIEND SEE HIM and say lika pops of on the dance floor, hyunsuk would be like mY GIRLFRIEND HAS SOME MOVES Y’ALL 

whereas lika x suk could be classified as one of the more hard couples on the spectrum, @hyunsukmyass x hyunsuk is the epitome of bubblegum and sugar and (perhaps little) spice (at least that’s what everyone thinks but sshhh) 💖 i feel like in public suk would try hard to have the image of being sim’s edgy boyfriend but little does he know that sim dishes out the truth to all of her friends HDSJKHSKJ like that one time suk admitted his wallet was suffering due to the bouquet of flowers he bought her when sim was feeling low? or the time where he put his pride and sanity aside and took care of her when she was sick even tho it was a given that he’d get infected too? everyone knows and whereas suk is HIGHkey embarrassed to a certain extent, he’d try to find something he can tease sim with!! and then… he finds it... cute shit sim writes abt suk…. or even worse… her fanfics abt celebrity xy and suk has a LOT of fun teasing her with it ksajdkljkl he’d never say anything negative but once in a while he’d go like “so,,, sim,,,, wanna recreate that one scene you wrote in fanfic xy?” or even “hey what do you think if i were a rocker but also super super good at school?” gET READY FOR THE BANTER AND LAUGHTER AND TICKLE FIGHTS THAT FOLLOW SUIT

[twistytwine]

Ivan & Oliver: Differences in Viewing Their Disorders

So all of a sudden I’m in an Ivan & Oliver mood and idk why lol

But!! Anyway, I think they’re pretty different as people already, both in appearance and mentality. But I wanna write more about them + their disorders and how they handle them. Kinda wanna get all the info down so I don’t just plaster “they have Tourette’s/OCD” onto them and leave it at that.

(I’m not sure how to tag this tbh but please ask me to tag this post with any trigger warning you think fits!)

Oliver’s 28 years old. He works as an online professional graphic designer. He’s made several signs and symbols for companies and small bands, though he’s never drawn them out on paper, other than the times where he drew them out simply to make a draft. As a kid, he wanted to paint buildings and museums, but most of his dreams were crushed due to job applications being turned down. He didn’t want to put a ton of self-doubt on himself, but he was sure that the reason why he got turned down so much was because he had Tourette syndrome.

His family had always supported him. They were a very rich family that got plenty of therapy for Oliver, and because of their wealth, they also were able to afford someone to teach him at home. But because of this, Oliver never knew how to socially protect himself from peers. He never got the chance to actually defend himself from bullies and harassers because he stayed inside all the time. Now, his insecurity and reclusiveness span into his adult life, where he, too, stays inside most of the time.

His Tourette’s has gotten under more control over the years due to him becoming an adult, but he still hates having it. Most of his hatred comes from his older brother, Ivan, who tormented him when they were younger. He bullied Oliver because of his obesity and Tourette’s, and even though it stopped eventually when they got older, Ivan never actually apologized.

Oliver’s tics are more physical than vocal, and the reason why he works digitally a lot is so he can press the undo button on the art program he uses in case he has a tic as he draws. A lot of his tics are mostly shoulder-jolting, teeth-grinding, grimacing, and grunting. He listens to mostly instrumental music because if he listens to lyrical music, he has a chance of repeating a set of lyrics from the song as a tic. He may be having a conversation with someone when he suddenly sings, “Dancing with a stranger” from Dancing With A Stranger. It embarrasses him greatly because he’s afraid of people thinking he’s joking around when it’s an uncontrollable thing he does. Many have mocked him before by singing along with whatever his vocal tic was, making him more stressed and thus causing more tics to occur.

Meanwhile, Ivan is 36 years old. He works as a businessman, but he’s not a business boss. In fact, his actual boss treats him a little bit like shit. Not many of his coworkers actually speak to him because they find him “weird” or annoying. Truth be told, Ivan can be rather snobbish, arrogant, and critical of people, but he’s not coldhearted and he doesn’t even realize he’s genuinely hurting people. He doesn’t like getting into arguments, either. Overall, though, he can be a genuinely nice person. It’s just that if you become more than just a stranger to him, you might be exposed to his uptight and rude behavior.

Ivan usually wakes up at 3 AM in the morning in order to not be late for work, which starts at 8:30 AM. He has a very specific schedule for himself, and if he’s not at a certain point at a certain time doing a certain thing, he’ll become extremely anxious and gradually irritated. He wakes up this early because he really wants to prepare himself for work due to his boss’s high expectations. He wants every day to be perfect and to work out for him entirely.

He gets up and does his morning stretching for around five minutes. Then he gets his uniform (they are always neatly folded in his drawer because he takes the last ten minutes before bed every night to fold all his clothes) and heads to the bathroom. He brushes his teeth. He takes a shower for approximately fifteen minutes. He gets out, dries his hair, puts on lotion, and puts his pajamas back on. He never wears his uniform before he eats breakfast because he’s terrified of it getting dirty. He eats breakfast, which is a very healthy balance of yogurt and fruits and oats. He eats just about the same thing every day. Due to him hating the texture of oats (even when he makes himself eat them), he always eats them first before quickly washing them down with yogurt. Then he takes a bite of strawberry or blueberries or any other fruit he has on his plate. He never eats any of the food together.

Then he gels and combs his hair before putting on his uniform. He has two mirrors in his house: the wall one in the bathroom and a standing one in his bedroom. He always wants to check to make sure everything’s tidy and neat, no matter how small it is. He has the constant repetitive thought of getting fired from his job, so he forces himself to perfection every day, even if it’s risking his own physical and mental health. This includes him excessively washing his hands and brushing his teeth.

The reason why he wakes up so early is because he’s fully aware of his OCD and how bad it can be. That’s why he gives himself a lot of time before heading to work so he can be patient with himself and calm his thoughts and compulsions. Still, not everything is perfect for him. He has red gums because he brushes his teeth about four times a day, and he washes his hands around fifteen times a day. Those numbers are the minimum.

His coworkers find him weird. Most of his coworkers, from his knowledge, are neurotypical. He doesn’t blame them for not understanding his behavior, though. He’ll be constantly checking his inbox even when there isn’t anything to check, and he’ll also bring his own towel and soap to wash his hands with in the bathroom. He doesn’t have a deathly fear of germs, but he’s severely worried sometimes that he’ll get extreme diseases if he doesn’t clean himself for one day. Diseases like Ebola, or even parasitic infections. When he bumps into someone on accident, he bumps into them again once or twice until it feels “right”.

Unlike Oliver and how he views his Tourette’s, Ivan is actually pretty accepting of his OCD. He feels like it makes him unique in a way, and you can thank his ego for that. He was a pretty proud person even before he started showing signs of OCD. When people scoff or pick on him, he brushes them off easily. It’s good that he’s aware of his behavior and doesn’t hate himself for it, but it’s also rather bad because he’s convinced that everything he does that’s caused by his OCD is healthy, from cleaning himself until his skin was like paper and getting very little time to sleep.

[dr-gloom]

It’s Still a Good Life (Ch 2)

Yay! Chapter 2 is here! (we’re going to pretend this was posted before midnight)

Chapter 1 Chapter 3

@dead4sevenyears  and @the-incedible-sulk if you wanted to like read this idk

This was based off the song Promiseland by Mika, which I actually used the lyrics for later in the chapter. I had kind of a hard time writing Logan but I hope it’s okay!

Fandom: Sander’s Sides

Pairing: past logicality

Tags/Warnings: some swearing, some punching, uhhh, feels?, idk

Summary: Logan is trying to cope with the breakup and Virgil tries to be supportive.

Enjoy!

Read it on AO3

fic masterlist

like what I do? buy me a coffee or GoFundMe

Logan awoke the next morning feeling numb. Awareness crept up on him slowly, first coming to him in the soft weight of the blanket draped over his legs and the pressure of Virgil leaning against his side. Then in the soft sound of the TV, as Netflix had closed at some point of the morning to be replaced by the soft droning of some talk show. The room was far more lit than it had been when he’d fallen asleep, sunlight flooding through the curtains and the kitchen doorway where the windows remained unblocked. He studied Virgil’s face, admiring the calm peace overtaking the usually dower expression.

Then Logan remembered why he was there in the first place and his heart crumpled. He’d thought Patton loved him. He thought they were happy, perfect. What happened? Why was he not enough? Who was it that Patton loved more than Logan, whom he’d been dating for almost a year? He just didn’t understand. It made no logical sense; who dates someone for that long if they didn’t really love them?

So many questions, and no answers; how frustrating. And yet….

And yet, he didn’t want answers. Not really. He didn’t want to know why he wasn’t good enough, or who Patton left him for, or whether Patton had ever actually loved him. He didn’t want to know. Thinking of the possible answers was only making him angry, and… He didn’t like being angry.

Virgil woke up to Logan seemingly disappeared. The blanket had been moved to cover Virgil, and the couch beside him was cold, meaning Logan had left a while ago. Virgil frowns, getting up and tossing the blanket off as he headed into the kitchen. It looked just how Virgil had left it the night before, tea kettle and all. He moves through the other rooms in his small house, thinking the further he went that Logan must have gone home. Virgil hoped he was okay… He didn’t even get to check on him before he left. Virgil checks his room, the last one in the house, with a strange sense of anticipation. When he opens the door and finds his room empty, he berated himself for getting his hopes up. Why would Logan be in his room anyways? He probably had gone home.

He’s heading back to the living room when he hears it. As he passes the garage door he hears the sound of impact and an angry shout. Curious (and slightly scared) he opens the door slowly, peeking inside. The light is on, and Logan stands on the far side of Virgil’s garage, punching the punching bag Virgil has hanging from the ceiling. He’s sweating, face red and twisted into the most terrifying expression Virgil thinks he’s ever seen. Logan is just going at it, one punch after the other with no form or rhythm, blindly hitting the punching bag and shouting angrily as he does so. Virgil takes a moment to calm down and realize that this is Logan, if he’s kicking the shit out of a punching bag then something is seriously wrong, and slowly enters the garage. Once he’s about two feet behind his friend, he speaks up hesitantly.

“Uh… Lo?”

Logan whips around to look at Virgil, that furious scowl still set into his features, and he must se how Virgil tenses, his mind screaming to run, run away now, because Logan takes a shaky breath and forces his face into a more neutral expression. “Ah, my apologies Virgil, I didn’t know you were standing there.” Virgil just nods dumbly, and Logan steps away from the punching bag with a small sigh. He really didn’t like being angry. He didn’t like to worry Virgil.

“Is there something you need?”

Virgil seems to snap out of it and he blinks. “O-oh, uh. I just- I thought you left, so I was- I was just looking for you. And now I’ve found you, haha. Worst game of Where’s Waldo ever, you weren’t even hiding.” Logan raises an eyebrow. That joke was just… Bad. Seriously.

Virgil must be freaking out.

And it was Logan’s fault.

Logan drags a hand through his hair, not missing the way Virgil flinches just slightly and watches Logan’s movements. “Well, here I am. Do you perhaps want breakfast? I wouldn’t mind cooking right now.” Virgil nods and leads Logan back into the house, perching on the arm of the couch as Logan heads into the kitchen. As he gathers the ingredients for pancakes and bacon, his thoughts wander.

He… was angry about what happened with Patton. He loved Patton, more than he thought he loved anyone. And he thought Patton felt the same… but apparently not. So, what did that mean for Logan? Were his own feelings a lie? Was he just so blinded by them he couldn’t see that Patton didn’t feel the same? He didn’t know. He hated not knowing. It made him feel helpless. In some part of his broken heart he felt almost indignant. He’d spent so much time, invested so much in their relationship, and Patton just… breaks his heart? Ends it like it’s nothing? But… he knew that wasn’t right. He’d seen how broken up Patton was about it. He’d noticed the tears in the other’s eyes, the way his voice cracked as he apologized. How he tried to stop Logan as he walked away, face carefully blank.

It would be so much easier to hate Patton, part of his mind tells him.

Yes, but the world would be so much colder, too, he tells it.

He finishes making breakfast in silence. Once he’s done, rather than tell Virgil to come to the kitchen he just grabs their food, a syrup bottle, and silverware and joins him on the couch. By this point Virgil’s finally relaxed, scrolling through his phone. He looks up when Logan comes in and smiles when he’s handed his food, and the two eat in silence. It isn’t until Virgil turns on the TV fifteen minutes later that either of them speaks. It’s Virgil who breaks the silence.

“It’s okay to be mad, Lo. He hurt you. No matter what his intentions or wishes were, he still hurt you, and it’s okay to be angry about that. Just don’t let it make you forget how you felt when everything was okay.”

Logan swallows around the lump in his throat and nods. “Thanks, Virgil.”

Virgil knocks on the door to Logan’s house before letting himself in. It’s been a few weeks since Logan told him that Patton ended their relationship, and Virgil made sure to visit his friend at least twice a week. He entered the home, carrying a couple bags of food to make dinner, surprised to find that the lights were off. He sets the bags on the counter and calls out into the still air, “Lo?”

When he gets no response, he frowns. Maybe Logan fell asleep? But it was four pm…. And Logan always stressed the importance of keeping a “proper sleep schedule” … Virgil heads back to Logan’s room, just to make sure.

Virgil always loved Logan’s room. The ceiling was painted to look like the night sky, a perfect blend of purples, blues, and black with white dots of varying sizes that actually glowed in the dark. It’d been a present from Roman when Logan moved into the house – sort of a housewarming gift. The walls were a calm neutral grey, only interrupted by a couple bookshelves and a single poster from BBC’s Sherlock. Logan’s bed was simple enough; a queen-sized bed with navy-blue sheets and a constellation blanket. A desk in the corner housed his laptop and a few other miscellaneous belongings.

Virgil wasn’t paying attention to any of that, though. Logan was sitting at his desk, leaning back relaxed in his rolling chair, his eyes closed as a song played from the speakers (which must be why Logan didn’t hear him, as it was playing a little loud).

-Prayed every night to a religion that was chosen for me

Sold my soul, broke my bones

Tell me what did I get?

Did my time, toed the line

Ain’t seen anything yet

Strike me down to the ground

You know I’ve seen it before

Make it hurt, I’ll eat the dirt

I just don’t care anymore

Logan was mouthing along to the lyrics, and if Virgil had to guess he’d say Logan’s been listening to this on repeat. He didn’t seem to realize that Virgil was there yet.

How could you break my heart?

Already played my part

I kept my promise man

Show me the promiseland

Don’t occupy my throne

Give me the crown I own

Lived like you told me how

Look at me now

Virgil frowned and silently sat on Logan’s bed. Did Logan regret his relationship with Patton? Or did he regret listening to his parents for most of his life? They’d had Logan convinced (up until he met the three of his friends) that he had to succeed in life to be worth anything, that he had to make something of himself to be worthy of love. Sometimes Virgil wonders if Logan thinks about what his life would be like if he’d told his parents to shove it up their ass. Virgil looks at Logan as he mouths the words to one of the lines, his face screwed up as if he were genuinely asking,

If I’ve never seen the good, how can it come to an end?

Virgil wasn’t sure why, but that actually… hurt. Not that he felt insulted, but he couldn’t imagine how Logan felt this way. He cleared his throat, feeling bad suddenly for spying on this private moment.

As soon as he does, it’s like the atmosphere of the room shatters. Logan’s eyes open and he rushes to pause the music, looking over at Virgil. He doesn’t get mad though, just asks, “How long have you been here?” Virgil shakes his head, looking at the bookshelves and reading over titles he’s seen a hundred times before. “Not long. Might want to turn your music down so you can hear people breaking into your house though.” Logan grins slightly and stands.

“Yes well, it might behoove you to get my attention instead of watching me, next time.” Virgil blushes slightly. So, he had known? Logan just shakes his head.

“Come on, you can help me make dinner and we can watch that cartoon you’ve been talking about. Sean’s Galaxy?”

Virgil rolls his eyes and follows Logan to the kitchen. “It’s Steven Universe, you uncultured swine, and you’ll love it.”

[avaquet]

TELL ME ABOUT YOUR OC: COMPANION EDITION

Rules:

Describe your OC as they are described by their companions.

Show us what they look like!

Tag at least 5 (or more) followers and 5 blogs you follow! :)

Enjoy writing!

Thank you so much @dirthara-mama ! This was a nice writing exercise for me! Also every response is pretty long and sorta encompasses what Evelyn did throughout the Inquisition, but I thought it easier to have them sorta react to the choices she made? Idk! And sorry if any sound OOC! This is the first time I’ve posted dialogue from anyone in the DA universe :D (excitingly scary I might add lol!)

Tagging: Oof, idk who’s already done this, and of course no obligation! @ironbullsmissingeye @underthedreadwolfsgaze @felorinbailenshield2 @nemichen and @wardenofmyheart !

I put things under the cut cause it be long

How the Inner Circle views Evelyn Lavellan!

(Real quick! There’s mentions of a character named Veil, she is my qunari OC that I HC in my canon that she’s part of the inner circle, though I do not do a reaction from her because well yeah) (I also pictured this as the characters telling a close friend about Ev, and not like a strange interviewer or something)

Blackwall: “Despite the lie I lived, she brought me back and made me a proper Grey Warden. That girl gave me a second chance I never asked for, but perhaps the one I needed. I feel stronger for having joined the Inquisition, came out a better man. I’m not the only one with that story here, she has that kind of influence on a person. I’ve been present for every judgement she judged and she had found a way to make the prisoner work for us or sent them off for a second chance. Like that one Avaar that threw goats at our walls, Maker that one was the first person she judged and he walked out a happy man! Exiled to hunt Venatori, then a while later his tribe got their own land and didn’t become bandits! (chuckles) Like I said, that girls leaves you a better person. I wish she’s see how helpful she’s been. Evelyn never feels like she’s done enough. But I’m grateful to her.”

Cassandra: “Evelyn as the Inquisitor has been...interesting to say the least. I know she means well, I just don’t know if it’s really the right choice she’s made at times. I’m thankful that everything worked out the way it did, though. She convinced me to rebuild the Seekers, she...ugh, she helped get Varric’s next book for me. She knew I liked his series, and I’m flattered. Evelyn has told me that she admires the energy I emit and asked how I do it. (chuckles) I asked her how she made the hard choices, and we both responded to our questions as we just improvise. She’s definitely grown on me, I’m sure of it. Evelyn’s been, thankfully, respectful of everyone’s beliefs. Well, except believing that she is the Herald, that time was frustrating for all of us to say the least. But, she doesn’t believe in either the Maker or the Elvhen gods as gods, which surprised me, but I...(sighs) she doesn’t need my judgement. Evelyn’s a good person, a good friend.”

Cole: “Screams that aren’t heard. She keeps screaming but nothing comes out. Hushed whispers from invisible scars haunt her. A weight no one sees. ‘Help me. Please.’ whispered into the pillow. Once petrified by dreams but in wake is more terrifying. She escapes, only coming back to help. Like me. I cannot make her forget, or anyone, but I feel more. She likes knowing someone wants to help. Smiles more now, genuine. Her friends finally heard her screams. A warm embrace fills her, the urge to yell dies down like a starving flame. Safe. More confident, she helps more, wants others to feel the same calm. I’m more human because of her. We like to garden and feel the earth beneath our feet and against our hands. Too busy to think of bad thoughts. It helps.”

Cullen: “The Inquisitor can change her mind too quickly in my opinion. Though, she’s hardened over time. She did help me overcome my lyrium addiction and support me through the process. I could feel she felt nervous around me at times, maybe it was because I’m an ex-Templar and she’s a mage. Which is why it surprised me that she was supportive during my recovery and how many chess matches she partook with me. We’re either matched at wits, or she just lengthens the game to keep me on edge, which, she’s always won. I wish I could’ve gotten to know her better, though, and despite my advice she would always use the Inquisitions forces as a last resort which I hardly agreed with. But, what’s done is done. Might I add, she has a companion dragon? Do you know how nervous that made me? A dragon!”

Dorian: “Evelyn? She’s one of the truest friends I’ve ever had. At first I was wary since she conscripted the mages. But she changed for the better, no doubt under my influence. I question her taste in literature, but I dare say she reads more than I do. How she can find time like that baffles me. She gets extraordinarily excited to fight dragons mind you, despite my protests. I...I think her and Bull consider it to be a date? Hardly romantic, maybe she got the idea from reading Varric’s books (scoffs). Ev told me about the meeting with my father and accompanied me to Redcliffe. She didn’t have to, she could’ve ignored it, she made time to help me personally. Though, she’s helped everyone personally, but my situation wasn’t dealing with a qunari alliance or a certain dwarf’s girlfriend from leaking red lyrium to Corypheus. I...I’m (sigh) grateful to call Evelyn Lavellan a friend. She’s kind and accepting and treats everyone with a kind of equity that is so rare.”

(slight nsfw in this one) The Iron Bull: “On the field, it’s like having a raging lightning storm with a fire tornado working with you. The look of determination and concentration on her face during battle is just so...(grunts). She’s my Kadan, beautiful, strong, intelligent, and I’m proud to be her Vhenan. We’ve shared many moments of all kinds together, helped me in many ways, realize things, helped me become the best I can be. I only hope I’ve helped her in the same way. The Chargers have already considered her a part of us with how much she hangs around, and fuck, if it wasn’t for the Inquisition, I’d ask her to join. Ev’s always fun to be around, she’s got the best jokes, Krem groans ‘cause she’s strengthened my pun game. And damn, does she have a fantastic body, and I get to see it in all its glory almost daily. The scars, her tits, the faces she makes when we go rough, yeah, she’s great. We’re great.”

Josephine: “Madame de Fer and I have to constantly remind her about her presentation to the world. Oh, I remember the stress at the Ball and having to watch over everyone almost like children. It’s also surprised me on how much culture she had not experienced before. Did you know, she’s never been to a full theater performance before? I made sure to change that as quickly as I could. I feel honored to be the first to introduce her to a variety of customs, she did help me annul the contract on my family after all. And on top of that, she respected my choice to doing it my way. She’s been amazing and got to witness me annihilate Cullen at Wicked Grace, and applauded me for doing so! I adore her and love the challenge she gave me during our time in the Inquisition. She came to me a lot for my use in diplomacy which, obviously, is something I respect. Even if...even if it didn’t save her clan, I thought she would hate me for failing, but she didn’t. I still feel awful and I apologize whenever it comes up, but she’s the one reassuring me? Don’t get me wrong, she avoided me for a bit after I told her, well, no one saw her for the rest of the night...but...oh, that got sad, I am thankful for her kindness.”

Leliana: “I won’t lie, at first I thought her compassion and mercy were a weakness, but she taught me otherwise. Ever since the death of her clan, I’ve been trying to get information on any survivors, she doesn’t deserve such a devastating loss, especially when it was during the middle of the Inquisition. She was always keen on listening to my suggestions at the war table and used my forces whenever possible. I think she was interested in adopting a nug from me before she started to raise a dragon! We all kept eyes on Elyana the dragon but somehow things just worked out. (chuckles) She did ask me to train her in becoming a bard, though I think she’s much more interested in what Maryden does than being a spy. Evelyn reminds me so much of the Hero of Ferelden. It took some convincing to get her to realize the severity of the oppression of mages and annulled the conscription. She was quite sheltered from the rest of the world in her clan and didn’t know much about the mage-templar situation. I think that’s why she listened to both Vivienne and I like mentors and (chuckles) parental figures as she’s called Vivienne mom a few times. All in all, Evelyn is precious and great, and I’m glad to have known her.”

Sera: “Oh her? Yeah, she’s fun to be around ‘n stuff. Elf, though, yeah. Not too elfy, so that’s good. Got too into her own glow, though. Rift mage or whatever, that’s too mage-y with that weird magic shite. And it’s a bit unnervin’ innit? I mean, she’s good, helps stick it to nobles in the best friggin’ way. (giggles) And we got to prank her whole lot, she don’t mind my cookies of shite on the roof either. Ev wants to be like people people, I can tell she’s different that way, but Viv keeps makin’ her wear that friggin’ sash and shite. Makes her, Ev, not seem like people, right. I like her and I don’t at the same time, yeah? Isn’t too elfy, good, but she’s too mage-y. Fun ‘n funny but can’t seem to make up her mind for shite. Like, listenin’ to Viv but also pieing nobles in the face. Look, she’s nice an’ all and she’s gettin’ there, but I think she needs a bit more pies to the face, yeah? (giggles) Or Bull to set her right when her arse needs it. (giggles) Get it? Eugh, never mind.”

Solas: “It took time to warm up to the Inquisitor, for she always kept people at a distance. For a time I thought...no. Perhaps she changed her mind. It was for the best anyways, I’m partially grateful that things did not escalate further. I got to train her in the ways of the Rift Mage, and in doing so I learned just how wise her spirit is. How adaptable and intelligent, it made me rethink about the Dalish, but she assured me it wasn’t them that made her that way. She has a tendancy to infuriate me, but I respect her will to listen as to why it does. Evelyn still has much to learn, and it’s been interesting to see her grow from her experiences. I know she abhors the Vallaslin on her face as she did not wish to partake in that tradition. Maybe...hopefully in time, there will be a way to safely remove it. As for the choices she has made, there are a few I have questioned. Thankfully, she took my advice on how to proceed with the Vir Abelasan. Evelyn Lavellan is young and ignorant, but I hold her to a high respect for her willingness to learn, help, restore, and fix her mistakes.”

Varric: “Blossom has been through a ton of shit. Made a lot of choices that she regretted. When Hawke came by, she talked Blossom into rethinking on her choice to deal with the mages and went back on the conscription, letting the mages be free within the Inquisition. I know Hawke’s been keeping in contact with her and they’re friends. Which is great! I taught her how to play Wicked Grace, heh, she’s not very good at it but she plays hard. Well, as in, she bets a lot and usually loses it all but weirdly, she doesn’t mind and is very enjoyable company. Her, Veil, Buttercup, Tiny, and I play cards regularly together. We all exchange stories, chuckle at her and Veil’s bickering and shitty pun wars with Tiny. Best parts of those are when Buttercup groans and usually leaves at that point. I feel bad for Blossom because she’s so nice, merciful, forgiving, and caring an this damn world of events keep forcing her through tough and impossible shit, and it’s broken her a few times. We helped pick up her pieces and continue on. She’s young and inexperienced. Shit, before the Inquisition, she’d never killed a person before. Don’t get me wrong, I’m grateful to have a hero in this mess, I just think Andraste or luck or whatever chose unfairly. Or maybe her kind heart is exactly what we all need. That part about her hasn’t changed despite everything and I respect that deeply. I hope she’s able to live a happy life after all this.”

Vivienne: “Oh, Evelyn is a dear, very sweet and respectful. She listened to my teachings very well, especially on etiquette and it surprised me how much she already did out of habit considering she was raised in a Dalish clan on different customs. Though, she did say she didn’t follow Dalish traditions. We share many evenings together and hold conversations while she lets me braid her hair. I found it amusing when I helped her get ready for the Halamshiral Ball and had to teach not only her, but Iron Bull as well, on how to dance. Evelyn was easier to teach because she knows how to dance solo, but never had a partner. I remember she hated the Ball because she had to fight in a dress, with tight braids in her hair, makeup, and various accessories without messing any of it up lest she becomes suspicious or scandalous to the guests. Sadly, she despises The Game, though she’s very good at it. It was glorious. At the Winter Palace she went from being seen like a glorified servant to being on top and holding everyone at the court on strings like puppets along with their respect. Oh, a great sense of fashion and a good eye for decorations, though she dislikes constantly looking and dressing as nobility and I must remind her consistently on why it’s important. I do enjoy her company and I wish we saw more eye to eye on the subject on Circles and mages. At first we did, but as time went on she started agreeing more and more with our dear Spymaster.”

lol all in all, Ev is kind, caring, and smart. She got along with basically everyone, even if they didn’t see eye to eye on everything. Though other than Bull, I think she’s closest with Vivienne, Varric, and Dorian ( and my OC Veil, but I don’t post about her often)

[herotheshiro]

ok so i’m gonna actually write out a post instead of reblogging and commenting bc i expect to go a little longer than i have patience for via tagging. EDIT: ok yes this did end up becoming a monster of a post. i apologize to those who actually try to read this/manage to read the entire thing

so this manga is called will you marry me again if i am reborn, it’s abt a couple who meet when they are 5yo and 9yo respectively (if i remember correctly, i just know their age diff is 4 yrs) and they basically have feelings for each other from day one so they get engaged at 26 and 30yo (synopsis basically of ch 1 lol). the manga consists of basically one-shots covering both the mains’ experiences growing up together and the experiences of the fam/friends around them. (i say one-shots bc the “story” usually gets resolved in 1 ch, there technically is a linear plot connecting the chapters but the main meat of the ch is usually not covering that plot specifically but rather talking abt things that come up due to that plot. this makes more sense if you actually have read the manga)

classic me decided to look this up on a whim despite having schoolwork to do after seeing it while going through my IG saved (i had seen this manga at least a yr or so ago but never looked it up) and damn ngl i was expecting it to be a one-shot but nah it’s 4 volumes and ongoing .......

at face value, i do like this manga ... the main couple is sweet and i’m weak to cute scenes, the women in this manga are badass and physically and emotionally wrecking havoc (not in a bad way, just like in a headstrong way) while the men weep (not like in an abuse way, just like they’re uselessly crying abt stuff), and i think the way the manga covers the history of this family/related ppl is interesting (i.e., it’s not a completely linear way, like 1 ch is this person. now the next ch is their mother. now the next ch is their father, etc etc). this manga does take place in japan in the 40s though, so note some social things still remain despite the switching of stereotypical gender roles (e.g., everyone is married at 25-30yo. like i kept getting caught up on this one like ‘why the fuck is every character married. like chill, you don’t gotta be married--oh wait nm i forgot back then ppl tended to get married p fast/early’).

on that note. probably my biggest complaint with this manga though is (spoiler) the pairing of chizuru and toyokichi. who have an age gap of 7yo and 32yo (AT STORY INTRODUCTION. thankfully they don’t get together/are really romantically involved until later but hold on let me say what i want to say first before i go into that). that’s right, what i thought was a joke premise (‘a pathetic man like you is still single rn? well i’ll let you marry me once i become of age if you’re still alone’) was NOT actually a joke bc later chapters reveal that they did get together as adults. which is FUCKED UP !!! like sure i feel like there are het couples irl who have huge ass age gaps and these relationships are for the most part accepted (or tolerated) then in the 40s and even now but that is so fucking weird that this man 25 yrs a girl’s senior still for whatever cursed reason married the girl in the end. (like legit. when the girl said that statement above, the man was like ‘damn i’d be committing a borderline CRIME if i did that’. not in a romanticized way though, like he was weirded out and that is so damn sad that i feel the need to clarify that. i have read too much shit and unfortunately some ppl do like that) 1. i don’t understand why ppl need to pair up all of their mains/introduced characters so bad. like... if needed it’s ok to introduce a side character who doesn’t get much focus. you don’t need to pair everyone up ages be damned; 2. the acceptance of such shit ... idk. i’m not saying older generations are all necessarily fine with such age gaps but also idk if maybe that shit just flies with older ppl and it’s not a big problem (i say that bc the adults in the story don’t really seem to be saying much abt it). then again, i haven’t seen what their getting together story is yet (we’ve only been seeing them together as they are in present time aka as adults) so idk if maybe ppl were against it but they still got together but man. that shit rubs me the wrong way.

as of right now, the ongoing story is focusing on the effect of ww2 on the mains’ and their families. tbh i was kind of surprised at how this story turned into a war story; i mean it’s to be expected if your story is in the 40s, i think most stories around the world that take place in the 40s HAVE to talk abt ww2 bc it’s not really something that can be glossed over easily since it really did impact daily life so much. but also i didn’t expect it ... i don’t really enjoy reading war stories, not only are they sad to read sometimes but also i feel like sometimes it’s glamorized to some degree. i don’t feel like this manga glamorizes it but i’m gonna be real i’m always kind of uncomfortable bc i’m used to hearing/reading abt nationalistic depictions (aka “hell yea go [insert native country], we are the best and fuck everyone else. also look at our causalities, we deserve to fight the other side for doing this to us”) and i never know if the author is suddenly gonna go in that direction. based on what’s been presented i don’t think it’s gonna veer in that direction but yeah.

otherwise, i think this manga is a cute read. it’s well-written enough that i kept going despite the hiccup covered 2 paragraphs ago, and i think emotional parts are handled relatively well. i think the characters are enticing for the most part, however i do feel that characters get paired up too fast (or the implication that they’re gonna get paired up). i understand that many of the characters’ stories are really only covered in 1 ch so you gotta just pair them up quickly, but for example the burned eye girl and the ex-yakuza ... i wish they hadn’t INTRODUCED the burned eye girl as being romantically interested in the latter even if it is true esp since their story is ongoing and wasn’t just limited to 1-2 chapters. like i get there’s history and we’re looking at “present day” where she’s head over heels for him but like ... idk. i’ve never been a huge fan of stories where it’s basically stated outright ppl have feelings for one another, like tangent but that’s why i didn’t really like j*son x p*per from the HoO series (i never finished this series btw lol. i think i only read up to h*ouse of h*des and even then i’m unsure if i even finished that book) bc they were basically introduced AS a couple and i’m like bro i barely know these characters, let me figure them out first before i pair them together. yes they took a break for a bit bc j*son literally lost his memory but all of their interactions from early on were then romantic to some degree as a result and i’m like bro. (on the other hand, that’s why i liked h*zel x fr*nk better. yes i believe fr*nk was introduced as having a crush on h*zel but i feel like their early development was relatively separate. also i’m censoring everything bc i don’t want the risk of pj0 ppl coming at me) i’ve also only been reading BL recently so i’m like ‘damn ok too many het pairings and not enough lgbtq content’; i mean it’s the 40s but also gay ppl weren’t invented afterwards or anything lol (that’s sarcasm. supposed to be a reference to that one tumblr post i saw where they’re like ‘we can’t have black ppl in this period piece’ ‘what, were black ppl not invented yet?’)

next paragraph despite same point bc these paragraphs are literally becoming walls. but while i think it’s cute, i prob won’t be actively following. i feel like it’s pretty standard fare for genres/topics like this despite the more unconventional storytelling. it’s relatively well done but there’s not really much new grounds being covered with this story so i don’t feel particularly inclined to pay strong attention. now that i’m at the end of this review, i’d just like to say godDAMNIT (spoiler) kenji died, and the irony hurts that kenji was like ‘kind ppl like you will die in war’ but then he ended up dying bc of his own kindness towards toyokichi ... i mean i knew he was gonna die, that’s just how the story was going but also damn it ... also if main guy’s older bro doesn’t personally meet main girl’s older bro in the story ... wtf. everything is pointing towards that happening

[marauders70s]

Title: Flirting with the Enemy Pairing: Remus Lupin/Slytherin reader (idk if u do reader pairings but) Drabble: Marauders Era, maybe like a first kiss or something? it's up to you

eeeeek so i don’t write reader ones i don’t really get how? so i changed it to first person POV and gendered it female (sorry if i have assumed incorrectly). It also galls me to write first person with Marauders because I can’t “float” the camera to different POV

Title: Flirting with the EnemyPairing: Remus Lupin & POV Slytherin GirlSummary: “You can’t like her!” James exploded. “She’s the Slytherin keeper! She’s the enemy!”

It was stupid, really, to be a Slytherin who was bad at potions, but there I was. Professor Slughorn despaired of me; he only took a shine to those proficient in his class. James Potter and Sirius Black. Of course. Those two. Lily Evans, too, but only really because of Severus Snape. Slughorn’s star pupil. 

“Crush the petals,” moaned Zinnia in my ear. I glanced down, distressed. I had been staring again, and had forgotten to read carefully.

“I’m sorry,” I apologized, as she shouldered me aside, stirring the cauldron with one hand, not willing to let me do anything lest I mess it up.

“Excellent, excellent,” I could hear Slughorn chortling over Potter’s cauldron. I narrowed my eyes in envy. Though we were both in quidditch, no one talked about me the way they talked about Potter. Honestly, no one talked about Potter, the way Potter talked about Potter. They even had little badges to sell and collecting cards of the players. I knew how many people had bought my card. Four. The girls in my dormitory, out of guilt. It had doubtless been Zinnia’s idea.

“Miss Greengrass,” said Professor Slughorn, coming over to frown at Zinnia’s one handed attempt to salvage my petal disaster. “Trouble, are we?”

“Oh…no,” Zinnia tried to smile, her face flushed and pink from the cauldron. “Doing just fine.”

“And Miss…” even after five years, Slughorn still had trouble remembering my name. It was absolutely humiliating the favoritism he showed.

“You’re not helping?” he finished, frowning avuncularly down at me as if I were a child. Or a moth. An unwelcome moth on the kitchen wall. 

“I was trying,” I mumbled, not wanting to sound like I was whining. “I’m just…not as good as Zinnia.”

“Then you had better practice,” tsked Slughorn. He beckoned the Gryffindor boys over. Their cauldrons were empty, evidently already bottled and tagged, needlessly in everyone’s opinion, as they had finished early and had scored perfectly. The only other couple to be done was Severus and Lily chatting in the back of the dungeon in soft voices. 

“Miss Greengrass and her friend,” wow, not even an attempt, “need to restart their potions,” said Slughorn, frowning mock-gently in our direction. “For the practice! Since you two have so evidently succeeded in your attempts, will you pair up with them and give it another go?”

“I can’t, Professor,” said Potter at once, and I was aware - as everyone was aware - of Lily Evans’s head snapping up. “I have quidditch practice after this. I’m vice-captain, so I’ve got to get there early to set up for drills.”

“The skipper,” hummed Slughorn delightedly. “Well, then, yes, hmm. I see. You are excused.” Potter didn’t need to be told twice, only summoned his bookbag and winked at his friend. 

“Mister Black will help Miss Greengrass, I think,” and I knew Zinnia was close to fainting. She had a massive crush on Sirius, with his gelled hair and his leather jacket on weekends, and his not-quite-uniform black boots under his trousers. He smiled at her politely, but I could see the gloss of failure in Zinnia’s dazzling beam in return. He didn’t like her, but she couldn’t see it. Something about pure blood prejudice in him. Or so everyone said. Strange, really, since he was a Black.

“And who will help…erm…” Slughorn waved his hand over my head as I brimmed with mortification. 

“I will,” said a voice, and if it was possible to blush over your internal organs, I certainly did so. 

“Ah, the perfect Prefect,” joked Slughorn. “Always willing to mentor. Thank you Mister Lupin.”

“Of course,” said Remus politely. He was tall; taller than Slughorn, and his growth spurt had come up rapidly between fourth year summer and fall term. It made a lot of girls start to look at him, including me, even if I wasn’t a prefect, or good at potions, or shared any of his interests.

“Thanks,” I said, furious at Slughorn, and yet oddly grateful for the demeaning repeat. I knew Zinnia wouldn’t complain at least, and that was something. She was already listening to Sirius read the directions out of his notes, with his messy, scrawling handwriting, long and looping. She was tapping the page, nodding as if she hadn’t been the one to carry us this far.

“It’s a really crummy thing of Professor Slughorn to make you repeat the potion,” Remus said as we gathered the materials anew. 

I looked up at him, askance. “Crummier to punish you by doing it twice.”

“Slughorn never liked me much,” said Remus.

“I can’t think why,” I said flatly, and a ghost of smile flitted around Remus’ mouth for a moment before he shrugged.

“Too poor, I guess.”

“That shouldn’t matter.”

“Shouldn’t,” he agreed. “Here, start stripping this bark.”

My hands were busy but my mind was blank. We had always been in classes together, but if I counted, aside from “Excuse me,” “Good morning,” and other vague polite phrases said moving around other people in a shared space, I couldn’t recall a single time talking to him one on one. I had looked enough -

“You know, I don’t think we’ve ever partnered up before,” said Remus, echoing my thoughts uncannily. 

“I’m usually with Zinnia.” Why did I say that? Now it sounded like I would never want to partner with anyone else.

“I’m usually with Peter,” Remus agreed. “Unless Slughorn makes us partner up by birthday or something.”

Why did teachers do that. They thought they were so clever, and all they caused was pain and awkwardness. I said as much to Remus, and he laughed.

“I think they’re trying to force us to mingle.”

“I hate mingling,” I said, savagely stripping the bark, and then looked up, eyes wide and scared. “Not that I -”

“I get what you mean. I hate small talk too. Here. You’ve done enough bark stripping. Dice the roots.”

I switched to chopping slowly and precisely, vowing to be careful on this potion, at least. Remus seemed to anticipate my problems, and was having me do all the preparation as he started the cauldron simmering. The simple foresight to keep me away from the actual adding and stirring was so thoughtful I wanted to cry in gratitude. I glanced surreptitiously at Remus’ usual partner, Peter Pettigrew, and understood.

“James says you’re the enemy,” and Remus surprised me with an impish smile. I was confused, and he laughed at the look on my face. “Because you’re the Slytherin keeper. Says you can’t be trusted lest I give away quidditch techniques or something.”

“Do you know any quidditch tactics?” I asked him, teasing him gently with the correction.

He only laughed over the steam and added my roots. “Obviously not.”

“What do you like to do?” My heart was hammering. This was stupid. I was mingling, asking dumb small talk questions he just said he hated. I should be witty and interesting and deep. But I was in Slytherin, not Ravenclaw, and had hardly left Leeds my whole life.

“Read, mostly,” said Remus. “And look in tea shops. And Honeydukes, of course.”

“Of course,” and I was eager to jump in. “My favorites are the lava fudge.”

“’Real boiling action!’”  he quoted. “I don’t always like that feeling in my stomach.”

I had that feeling in my stomach right now.

“We-we should get some,” I said nervously.

Remus was busy stirring the green potion counter-clockwise eighteen and a half times. “Yes,” he said, but I know he didn’t understand.

“We…we could go to Hogsmeade. Together,” I ventured.

The spoon slipped, and grey eyes came up from his concentration. “What?”

I managed to grab the spoon to keep stirring, counting under my breath as Slughorn passed by. There was a long, awkward silence.

“If you want,” I said. “I could go…go look at books with you. And I’ve never been to the tea shop. I always pass by. You could show me.”

This had to be the longest minute of my life. His grey eyes never blinked, like two luminous full moons staring at me.

“He’d love to,” said a loud, sarcastic voice from the next workbench over, and we both jumped. I turned to look, but needn’t have bothered. It was Sirius Black, grinning wickedly and winking at Remus.

“We’ll all go,” he said cheekily to Zinnia, who was so pink in the face she looked like a strawberry.

“Well then,” said Remus, smiling slightly and catching the spoon before it could complete the nineteenth rotation. “It’s a date.”

Send me a made up AO3 title and i’ll write you a drabble based off of it!

[queen-of-deans-booty]

Killing Me Softly

Characters: Dean x Reader, Sam

Word Count: 2,189

Warnings: mentions of suicide, attempt of suicide, I don’t go into too much detail but it’s there, bad thoughts, self hate, a lot of negativity, ANGST, a smidge of fluff if you squint

Request: Hii, could you please do a Dean x reader where the reader has a lot of suicidal thoughts, and she tries to kill herself but Dean break in and save her and then a lot of fluff and cuddle? I know it's depressed but lately it's been an horrible time and idk. Anyway, I love your fics!

Author’s Note: This one is dark, guys. I want you all to know that if you’re ever feeling low, please, my inbox is always open. I want o help you guys. If not, there are a lot of numbers you can call that will do everything they can to help you. Suicide is a permanent solution to a temporary problem.

If you want to be tagged, leave an ask or message and I’ll add you! Same goes for my Series Rewrite! If you want to request a fic, please send them in! I love writing what you guys want!

Feedback is always appreciated

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You weren’t ever a happy person. Yes, you’ve had those moments where you laughed and joked with people but at the end of the day, it was just you and the demons inside your head. All throughout your life, you were always compared to a better person, always judged, always feeling like you weren’t worthy enough.

You’ve tried to surround yourself with things that made you happy. For example, you tried being with Dean Winchester as much as you could. Or researching with Sam, writing little snippets of your life in your journal, going on walks, and even cooking but nothing worked.

You couldn’t stay happy for too long before the voices in your head took over.

“You’re so ugly.”

“No one wants to get to know you. You’re a horrible person.”

“Why are you still here? Sam and Dean would never love you. They want you gone.”

“It would make things a lot easier if you just ended it all.”

“You would make everyone’s lives a lot easier if you weren’t around.”

“Go on, you have the pills. All you need is to take them and your pain and suffering would go away.”

The voices never went away, no matter how much you tried drowning them out. You tried blaring your music, you tried reading, you tried talking with Sam or Dean to distract you but they always found their way to the top.

There were nights where you stayed up, crying your eyes out because you weren’t good enough. There was actually a time where you ran away, in fear that Sam or Dean would kick you out if you stayed there any longer.

You ended up falling asleep in the park but when you woke up, you were back in your bed and very worried and concerned Winchester brothers waiting for you. They wouldn’t stop pestering you with questions and you so badly wanted to tell them what was wrong with you but you lied, coming up with some excuse.

You always came up with excuses as to why you weren’t feeling well, not eating when your stomach growled for food, when you couldn’t go on hunts, and many more. Your mind screamed for them to notice that you weren’t happy, that you wanted to end it all. But your body refused to cooperate.

You hated being alone because then your thoughts become your worst nightmare. The last time you were alone, you almost killed yourself. The only reason you didn’t go through with it was because your roommate at the time came home too early and found you before it was too late.

He tried to get you professional help but you refused, not wanting to burden anyone else with your problems. After that, you shut yourself off from anyone who was getting close to you. You hated bringing sadness to other people and you’ve experienced a lot of sadness.

Then after a while, you moved out, until you met the Winchesters. When you met Dean, you felt as if things were going to become good again. You thought you were going to be happy again but turns out, it was false hope.

You were never a happy person and in this moment, you knew it. You were alone since Sam and Dean were out at the moment. You’ve been alone for hours which wasn’t good for you. Those same demons were crowding your mind and you couldn’t take it anymore.

You shot out of bed, screaming in the empty room.

“SHUT THE HELL UP! LEAVE ME ALONE!” You sobbed, begging for them to stop but they wouldn’t quit.

“You know where the pills are. All you have to do is take them and we will never bother you again.”

The voices said to you. You sobbed, not really wanting to die but only wanting the pain gone. After all, that is all you wanted. All you wanted was the pain to be gone and the only way for that to work is if you were dead. You didn’t see any other option.

“Fine, you want me dead so badly, I’ll grant your wish.” You said to no one and got up, walking out of your room and to the shared bathroom. You would hate for Sam or Dean to come home only to find your dead body on their floor but this was the only way.

Why live a life if you were going to be sad all the damn time? Why live a life if everywhere you turned, pain would be a certain factor? Maybe there were some people who just didn’t belong in the world. You were one of them.

You closed the bathroom door and locked it, in fear of Dean or Sam coming home early and stopping you. You were stopped once; you weren’t going to be stopped again. You’ve tried taking a lot of pills but they were sleeping pills. You figured that if you took enough, you would fall asleep and just never wake up. But your body “healed” itself of them too quickly and you woke up a lot of hours later.

This time, you would be taking some prescribed pain killers that would be sure to work. After all the hunts you’ve been on, you have gotten some nice pain killers from doctors. You saved up and now you have enough to actually do some damage.

You took out the bottle and poured yourself a glass of water, sliding to the floor. Tears were streaming down your face because you hated leaving Sam and Dean like this. You popped the top and poured all the pills in your hand, looking at them.

“Just one swallow and this will all be over.”

“Do it, Y/N.”

“Maybe now you’ll actually be good at something.”

The thoughts wouldn’t stop and soon, you found yourself putting all the pills in your mouth, downing them with two big gulps of water. You let the glass fall on the ground, it shattering and the water going everywhere. You didn’t seem to care as you stared at the wall, letting the darkness make its way to you to take you away.

You didn’t even register your eyes closing. You didn’t register your body slowly shutting down. You didn’t even register Dean barging into the bathroom because he heard the glass and was worried about you.

You didn’t even register Dean frantically calling for Sam or even trying to wake you up. You didn’t even register when Dean rushed you over the toilet and stuck his fingers down your throat to get you to throw up the pills you took. This all happened so fast, the pills didn’t even get to settle into your bloodstream.

Your body reacted like how it should and you threw up, the pills landing in the toilet bowl. You threw up until you couldn’t anymore and that is when Dean knew you had every pill out of your body. Your eyes fluttered open and you got tears immediately, feeling like a failure again. You couldn’t even kill yourself correctly.

“Y/N, come on, you have to get up for me.” Dean said, putting you into his lap.

“No, Dean, just leave me be. Why did you have to save me?” You said, getting more tears.

“No, I’m glad that I got here when I did. What were you thinking, Y/N? I can’t lose you. I can’t bear the thought of you dead.” Dean said, getting emotional. Sam rushed into the room with some supplies that might help you out.

You were always closer to the older Winchester than you were with Sam and Sam knew it. He handed the things to Dean and as much as he was worried about you, he knew how much you needed Dean with you. Sam left the room and Dean gave you a glass of water and you remembered the broken glass.

You looked down to see your hand bloody. You must have hurt yourself without even realizing it. Dean was already working on your hand and you sobbed loudly, causing him to stop.

“Dean, why do you care about me? I’m worthless. I don’t belong on Earth anymore. I hate myself and you should too.” You cried. Dean shook his head and you could tell he was very emotional. He needed to gather himself internally because if he spoke now, he would break down and you didn’t need that.

You needed him to be strong but it was hard when the woman he loved tried to kill herself. He always knew something was wrong but he never would have guessed this. He knew something was wrong and he didn’t do a damn thing about it.

“Sweetheart, I’m going to stop you right there. Let me get you to bed and then I’ll tell you all about how much I love you.” Dean said, his voice cracking a bit at the end. He finished with your hand and he picked you up, letting you rest against him. He let out a shaky breath and left the bathroom, not worried about the mess.

He took you to his room since he figured you didn’t want to be in yours. He laid you on his bed and he handed you one of his shirts so you could feel his warmth. So, that you could feel safe, knowing he was always going to be with you. You knew there was no hiding how you felt now so you stripped out of your shirt and wrapped Dean’s around you.

“Dean…” You said with a quiet sob.

“Sh, don’t say anything, okay? Just listen.” Dean said, stripping himself to his boxers and got next to you in bed. He pulled you close to his body and stared into your eyes that were so full of pain and suffering.

“I’m sorry.” You said, immediately feeling guilty.

“For what? Feeling pain? I should be the one apologizing. I figured something was wrong but I left it alone. I’m sorry for not seeing what was truly wrong.” Dean said, wiping your tears.

“Dean, I can’t live like this anymore. The voices in my head always win and they’re mean. I always feel like a burden to you and Sam. I feel like I’m not good enough. Even before I met you, I was like this. Ever since I could remember, I hated everything about myself. I hate the way I look, the way I talk, how I hunt, what I say, everything.” A fresh wave of tears spilled over.

“I wish you could see what I see.” Dean whispered painfully.

“What do you see?” You asked, wanting to know what he saw. You needed to know what he saw in you.

“I see a broken woman. I see a woman that had fought her entire life. I see a beautiful woman who is imperfectly perfect in every way. I love everything about you. I love all the things you hate. I love how you make me laugh, how you brighten my days without even knowing it.

“I love your voice; to me, it’s music to my ears. I think you’re the best hunter I know. You’re such a badass and you make the monsters you fight become afraid of you. I love that you try so hard to make other people like you. It shows that you care.

“I love everything about you and I hate myself because I know now that I could have been telling you this instead of you suffering.” Dean said, tears spilling over his own eyes. Yes, you loved Dean Winchester. Yes, you knew that if you weren’t so sad yourself, you would be with him.

But hearing Dean say these things made you open your eyes. Dean, without even knowing it, made the demons go away and you were such a fuck up because it took you this damn long to realize it.

“Dean, please help me. I don’t want to die. I want to be here, in your arms, with you. I love you so much and I need your help. I just want the pain to go away.” You sobbed, your voice breaking.

“Please, I will help you be better. I need you in my life and I don’t know if you see that.” Dean said, moving some hair away from your face. You nodded and put your head on his chest, smelling his scent. Somehow, that made your nerves calm down.

“I’m sorry, Dean, for causing you pain. I won’t do it again.” You said, moving your head form his chest to his neck. He pulled you in tighter and placed a kiss on your head. You needed Dean more than ever and he was more than willing to be there for you.

This would take a long ass time, but you were ready for the healing process. You were ready to be a better person for the man you love. You knew it wasn’t going to be easy but that was life. You don’t deal with it alone because you won’t survive like that.

You had Dean Winchester and he had you.

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