#and whatever it is some very real pain not just a drifting apart

[unholyhelbig]

Natasha Romanoff x Reader with "Who did this to you?"

Title: Hallway Meetings

Ship: Female!Reader x Natasha Romanoff

Wordcount: 2077

Warnings: Injuries, blood, bruising, mugging, Bad Grammar

[A/n: I haven't written Nat in awhile, so here is some hurt comfort!]

Main Masterlist | Read my stuff on AO3 | Leave Requests

By the time you made it back to your apartment, the adrenaline had sufficiently worn off. The rush of energy that kept the pain at bay was the only thing that made it possible for you to sit through the bus ride across the city, the lights were much too bright and blue, your head pounding. You pressed your fingers against your ribs on the ride home, each exhalation trembling.

Somewhere along the way, the bus came rolling to a stop and the man behind the wheel huffed out at you. “End of the line.”

You were the only one on the bus, and by that time, you were fighting sleep entirely. There was no one else on the bus, and you didn’t see the point in arguing with him. His eyes were tired and dark. Something told you he was having a worse day than you were.

With begrudging compliance, you walked the three blocks to your building. You had forgotten your coat, and by the time you made it to the entrance, there was a numbness to the fingers that you refused to realize until you typed your code in and felt what real warmth was for only a moment.

The lobby smelled damp, as it always did despite the dry winter that the city was experiencing. Sickly yellow lights changed the tile on the floor from beige to green, and you lamented the fact that the elevator that had been busted since your move-in date was still in the same condition.

Any other day, it wouldn’t’ bother you. But you let out an involuntary groan at the sight before making your way up the first flight of stairs, your fingers still pushed against the aching of your mid-section. You were certain that they were broken, or at the very least, bruised. It pained you to take a deep breath.

Two more flights of stairs and the excitement of the night had worn away entirely. Your whole body pulsed with pain, with fatigue and regret for not listening to your mother the million times she told you to be careful on your way home, to keep an eye on your surroundings.

It’s not you that I don’t trust, it’s other people. Her words echoed listlessly in your mind as you searched your pockets for your keys. The group of men who had jumped you must have snagged them too, or they were lost in the shuffle of things. Either way, you were locked out, and the damn was about to break.

“Come on,” You whispered, pressing your aching head against the cool wood of the door. You suppose you should be thinking whatever higher power was up there for letting you escape with your life, just not your cell phone. But right now, it all felt like a cruel joke.

You weren’t sure how long you lingered there, but it was long enough to slide down to the carpeted hallway and lean your head against the wall. It was much too late to call your landlord, even if you could. You were suddenly content to sleep the night off in the corridor. Concussion or not, unconsciousness called to you.

At some point, you’d drifted off to the buzzing sound of the overhead lights. When your neighbor approached, you didn’t’ make any attempt to unfold yourself at the sound of her soft footsteps. She had always been so courteous when she was home, making as little noise as possible, even when she arrived well into the night. This was no different.

She put her hand on your shoulder softly, it was a stark difference from the cold of the hallway, and you startled all the same, inhaling deeply and with enough haste to make you wince, a soft “ow,” escaping your lips.

Natasha was knelt down in front of you, an undeniable look of worry on her face. The two of you had been neighbors for over a year now, and you would be the last to admit that you wanted to get to know her better. She was quite elusive, and always kind. She was a mystery to you, and that made you all the more curious.

The two of you operated on the same schedule when she was home. You often ended up walking down to the mailboxes together, sharing in small talk. She was guarded at first, but the first time you had gotten her to open up, to laugh at a joke you couldn’t even recall, you knew that you wanted to hear that sound more than once.

Natasha would help you up the stairs with your groceries, despite your protests. You would help her learn how to cook something other than boxed mac and cheese. The two of you had shared a six-pack of beer during the buildings holiday block party on the roof, despite the cold. That night, Natasha had taught you how to peg a stop sign with a snowball, her aim impeccable.

The moments were few and far between, but they meant something to you both. You hadn’t seen her for about a month at this point and figured that she was traveling. There was no mention of what she did for work, and she seemed content not to tell you, just as you were content to let her do so in her own time. 

There was a suitcase next to her door, something you had never seen her with before. She was dressed in sweats, looking casual from a long day of travel. Her auburn hair was up in a loose bun, strands falling and framing her face. You couldn’t help but think that she was stunning.

Your face must have looked pretty banged up, because you could audibly hear her breath lodge in her throat. You hadn’t bothered calling the police, nor did you see much benefit in lingering in the spot that you’d been attacked. The only thought on your mind was getting back here, certainly not with the intention of seeing Natasha.

“Y/n,” her voice was gravelly. There was a coolness to her fingers that you wanted to lean into as she lifted your chin to get a better look at the pulsing feeling around your eye. You winced as her thumb moved against your busted lip, smearing away a streak of blood. “Who did this to you?”

Her voice was hard, almost with an edge of a threat on her tongue. You’d never heard her sound this way before. She was always soft, if not quiet in her calculations. Now, you saw worry and anger etched onto her beautiful features.

“Just some guys,” you said in an exhalation. “It’s not a big deal I got locked out.” 

The attempt to diffuse her worry was going poorly. Natasha frowned at you and released your chin. You struggled to voice your protests as Natasha eased her arm tightly around your center, pulling you to your feet. You saw stars, not quite sure if it was from her sudden closeness, or the exhaustive injuries.

Natasha was strong. She held you with little effort, even as you threatened to slump back down into your previous position. She unlocked her door, and you were welcomed with a warm darkness until she flicked on the light by the door.

Her home was modest, and understated. It overlooked a beautiful part of the city, the walls lined with novels that you’d otherwise be interested in. There were undertones of vanilla and tobacco, the same scent Natasha carried like a sword, your nose pressed against the small of her neck as she led you to the sofa and deposited you there.

Natasha vanished down the hallway. If her apartment mirrored yours, she would move towards the bathroom at the end of the hall. You nudged yourself up taller on the sofa, trying not to let your blood wick into its fabric. When She returned, she sheepishly shook a first-aide kit.

She set out her supplies and you groaned when you saw the bottle of iodine and cotton pads. She had done this before. Natasha worked with ease, she unscrewed the cap on the bottle before flipping it onto the pad, a sick brown liquid sopped into the surface. You could smell it from here, nose crinkling in response.

“Stop squirming, this will help.”

You highly doubted that, but all the same, let her work at the cut that was slit across your eyebrow. She dabbed the antiseptic and you refused to pull away. You knew that you would never try to get out of Natasha’s grasp. Her hand was warm and guiding. The sting eventually eased.

She asked, “Do you remember where you were when this happened?”

“Whoever they are, they’re long gone.”

You drew in a sharp breath when she nudged your ribs by accident. A discontent frown fell across her features. It wasn’t the same look of heated anger that dawned on her in the hallway. Instead, this was one of pure concern.

“We should really wrap that, you know? There’s no cure for broken ribs, but we can ease your suffering a bit with some plastic wrap.”

Before you could answer she put the iodine on the table and walked towards her kitchen. You watched her carefully. Each movement was calculated. “How do you know so much about this?”

“I’ve been put into some unsavory positions.” Natasha returned with a meager roll of cellophane. She stood, a pink color on her cheeks. “You’re going to have to take off your shirt.”

Now you were sputtering, mumbling a few things under your breath. The thrumming of your mid-section was enough for you to agree, even though your own cheeks heated up at the thought. She had a bit of a quirk to her lip, both eyebrows raised in amusement.

You got stuck halfway through, a twinge of pain shooting through your core. You must have winced, or Natasha could read the pain in your eyes because she mercifully helped you the rest of the way out. When she was done, the two of you were incredibly close, her breath warm on your skin, goosebumps coating every inch of your body.

A budding bruise stretched across your ribs, marring the tender flesh there. Natasha exhaled deeply, you felt the action everywhere. Her fingers moved across the deep smudges of brown and black and purple. Your mouth was suddenly dry as her forehead leaned against yours. She was quieter than usual.

“This shouldn’t have happened.” Natasha was knelt in front of you again, glowering as her soft touch soothed your aching. “I’ve spent my entire life making up for mistakes that I’ve made. Trying to stop the big bads of the world when… when horrible things happen everywhere, and the truth is, I can’t stop everything.”

“You don’t need to shoulder that responsibility, Natasha.” You mindlessly cupped her cheek and she sighed into the touch, her eyes closing for a moment of gratitude. “That’s not your job.”

“It is,” She swallowed hard “it is. And it pains me that you’re hurting like this. That I couldn’t protect you. All I’ve wanted to do since the moment I’ve met you is protect you from me, and seeing you like this, God, it shouldn’t’ have happened.”

She was crying, and you thumbed them away as she had done with your blood a few moments earlier. If there was any hesitancy in her emotion, it washed away with the simple gesture. Her nose brushed against yours, cold from the journey home.

Nat smelled of melted snow and you remembered the night on the rooftop. The way your elbows brushed together as you watched the lights over the city. You almost closed the distance then and there, but she’d pulled away, and you awkwardly downed another frothy beer before she threw a second snowball, nailing the stop sign where you had fallen short.

Now, it was her that leaned in. There was a slight nip of pain where your lip had split, but it eased slowly into pleasure. She tasted like hazelnut coffee from the airport, of an edge of mind. Your fingers traced her jaw. She sighed into the kiss, the most fragile sound in the world.

You broke the embrace regrettably, sucking air through your teeth “oh, ouch.”

“Sorry, I’m sorry” she chuckled softly, nudging her forehead with her own, touch dancing over your midsection. “We really should get you patched up.”

[runninriot]

Love Is A Polaroid Steddie ficlet | ~2k | cw: implied/referenced self-destructive behaviour, drinking, a little heartbreak before it gets better | happy sappy steddie & platonic stobin

inspired by the insanely talented @inklessletter 's #polaroid series (go check out their art right now!!!)

   "Steeeve, please!" Robin begs. Literally begs.

Like, hands folded together as if in prayer, a pleading look in her eyes, expression as if she's in pain.

   "Robs, no! I don't- that's stupid. I don't feel comfortable with you following us around to take pictures for your- whatever it is." He waves a hand at her dismissively.

   "It's a project, Steve. For my Photography Studies course."

He should know, she already explained that. Told him something about visualizing love in its purest form. Told him she wants to take polaroid pictures of him and Eddie. No posing, just random shots whenever she feels like it. Pictures in black and white - something about using dark tones and deep contrasts to enhance the beauty of simple moments in their day to day life.

   "Whatever. I still don't get why it has to be us?"

Steve is a little frustrated. She's been going on about her wonderful idea for a good few minutes now, not willing to drop the subject no matter how adamantly Steve declines. She knows how shy he gets when he knows someone is taking a picture of him. He hates how he always looks a little off, has never felt very photogenic. So, the mere thought of Robin capturing him in possibly awkward situations with his boyfriend makes his skin crawl.

   "Well, first of all, you are my best friends, so it would mean a lot to have you be part of it. Plus, we live together so I wouldn’t be around you any more than I already am. You wouldn’t even notice. And you two are the perfect motive because-“ Robin’s eyes flicker down to her own feet, unable to hold his gaze.

Her face is suddenly painted with a faint crimson blush. Steve's furrowed brows smooth out and his expressions go soft again when he looks at his best friend's bashful little smile as she looks sheepishly back up at him.

   "You are the perfect motive because I've never seen two people being so in love with each other. Makes me sick how soft and cute you two are, if I'm honest."

Robin chuckles and Steve snorts loudly, both rolling their eyes at the same time because God, when did Robin become such a sap?

   "What you and Eddie have is love in its purest form. It’s unapologetic, honest, and real. It's all I ever want to find for myself. I'm fucking jealous of you, Steve!"

They laugh and Steve ignores the violent tug in his heart caused by her words.

What him and Eddie have really is special. He knows it's some kind of miracle that they've ended up where they are now. It wasn't always that easy. There were times when Steve wanted to just give up. When the world tumbled down and buried him under its weight. When he thought he could never have Eddie like that, wanted to rather die than live life without him.

When Steve realised he had fallen in love with his best friend, his best male friend, he panicked. Finding out he likes boys like he likes girls wasn't even the scariest part. What really took him out was the fear of losing Eddie if he ever told him the truth. For weeks he tried to push his feelings down, tried to cage them behind his ribs but all it did was make him suffer even more. Every time Eddie looked at him, he felt a sharp pain in his heart. Every time Eddie touched him, it left a searing sensation on his skin. Every time they were alone, Steve felt like he was losing his mind, desperately trying to fight the urge to kiss the boy so blissfully unaware of the heartache he caused him. He fought and suffered in silence until he couldn’t take it anymore and succumbed to the tormenting ache in his chest. Until he fell into a dark hole.

Steve drifted apart, dulling his feelings with unhealthy amounts of booze. Hunting for warm, willing bodies to sink into. Starving for touch and affection just to feel anything other than the grief-stricken pain of losing the lover he never even had to begin with.

Of course, his self-destructive behaviour hadn’t gone unnoticed by his friends. Robin tried everything in her power to get through to him. Offered advice and help for all the wrong problems because she couldn’t have known that the real issue was his own fucking mind and his inability to talk about what kept him up at night. What made him so angry and distant and numb.

And then there was Eddie. Sweet, kind, and caring Eddie who couldn’t keep watching his friend ruin his own life anymore. Who gave him an ultimatum – stop hurting yourself or I’ll leave.

Eddie’s words felt like a pistol held to his head, the determination in his teary eyes like a finger ready to pull the trigger. Steve knew he meant it, knew this was his last chance. He would lose the one person that meant everything to him.

   “I can’t lose you, Eddie.”

   “Then let me love you instead.”

He said the words like it was easy. Like it hadn’t nearly cost Steve his sanity to even think them.

Love.

Love you.

   “I love you!”

Steve felt like he was startling awake from a nightmare. One of those where, once you’ve opened your eyes, you instantly forget its horrors. That’s what it felt like when his confession found its way out of his mouth, making the pain of the past months disperse into nothingness.

Eddie had been right there all this time.

Eddie, with tears running down his beautiful face, smiling lovingly at Steve. Eddie, who brought his hands up to each side of Steve’s face before he leaned down and sealed his lips with a bruising kiss. Despair and pain spilling from his mouth as he licked his way inside, forcefully pushing something else in their place. Filling Steve’s insides with warmth and light and happiness. Passion running through his veins, pumping love into his heart, restarting the rotten organ to pick up its once steady beat. Its rhythm hard and fast, growing in size so big Steve felt like it would burst right through his chest.

I. Love. You.

Three simple words were all it took.

All the pain, the suffering, the loveless nights, and dreadful days – they all vanished in the seconds it took to say them out loud.

Three simple words, that seemed so frightening in his mind, so loaded with too much meaning and not enough weight to truly express what he felt.

What he still feels.

Loving Eddie and be loved by him in return is so easy. It’s easy because it just comes naturally. It’s what makes their love so pure, so honest, and true. They have one heart beating in two separate bodies. They are a two-piece puzzle, their curves and edges shaped to fit. A perfect match.

Steve holds out his hands, waits for Robin to take them in hers, and pulls her into a hug.

   “Eddie already said yes, hasn’t he?” Steve says through a defeated smile.

   “Well, his exact words were ‘You’re gonna regret it, Bucks.’ And then he said something about being extra nasty and insufferable just to wind me up. But yeah, he’s on board.” Robin huffs out a laugh.

Steve pulls her tighter, laughs when he practically hears Eddie’s voice in his head, sees his mischievous grin before his inner eye.

Eddie loves to be the centre of attention. Loves to be in the spotlight. Of course, he would be happy to provide himself as vessel for Robin’s artistic outlet.

    The things you do for love, Steve sighs before he agrees.

 

Polaroid #1

Movie night. The three friends are watching some old, trashy horror movie. Steve had a very stressful day at work, can barely keep his eyes open when they’re not even 15 minutes into the movie. He falls asleep on the couch, unbothered by Robin and Eddie’s bickering and laughing. When the movie comes to an end, Eddie leans down to Steve’s resting body, foreheads touching as he takes a moment to just listen to the other man’s calm breathing. ‘Hey baby,’ Eddie whispers softly, ‘time to get up.’ He kisses the tip of Steve’s nose, waits for him to slowly drift out of his deep slumber.

Steve smiles sleepily when he opens his eyes and sees Eddie’s face hovering over him, accepts the gentle press of Eddie’s lips against his own.

   ‘C’mon, darling. Let’s get you to bed.’

   ‘I’m not even tired anymore,’ Steve says, his face scrunched up when he yawns loudly.

   ‘Hmm, I know a way to tire you out, baby. Don’t worry,’ Eddie answers smugly, brushing their noses together before he kisses him again.

Robin makes a gagging sound, but smiles as she takes a picture to capture this soft little moment.

Polaroid #2

Sunday morning. They are all a little groggy from Robin’s early birthday celebrations last night. They’ve been out dancing, downing shot after shot, having an awesome time. Now, the buzz from the night before is gone and makes way for headaches and hangover munchies. Steve promised Robin pancakes in the morning and she’s desperate for him to finally get up and make them. She knocks on their bedroom door and steps in without waiting for an answer. The boys are still in bed. Eddie looks like he just woke up with his frazzled hair hanging into his face, lying half on top of Steve, rubbing his eyes. ‘Just five more minutes’, Steve grumbles, refuses to turn and get up.

It’s her Birthday, sure, and he promised her food she absolutely, definitely needs to soak up the remaining alcohol in her system – but she can give him another five minutes.

When she returns (exactly five minutes later), she captures Eddie and Steve still in bed. Eddie’s lips grazing the skin on his mole-speckled back with a dreamy look in his eyes, while Steve sighs in defeat ‘Alright, Robs. You win.’

The shutter clicks just before he turns around to throw a pillow at her head, causing Eddie to tumble to the side and nearly topple off the bed.

Polaroid #3

Robin sorts through the pile of polaroid pictures she’s taken over the last two weeks:

Steve and Eddie dancing in the kitchen to some dorky love song.

Steve resting between Eddie’s thighs where they lie cuddled up on the sofa, Eddie reading his favourite book to Steve.

Eddie trying and failing to make a handstand, Steve beside him, holding his belly from laughing so hard.

A picture of all three of them on Robin’s birthday, faces covered in whipped cream and chocolate syrup after devouring their pancakes like starving animals.

Eddie with his guitar in his lap, Steve sitting on the floor across from him. They share a loving look, eyes full of desire and devotion.

And then- Robin startles in shock. How did that get in here?

She knows she didn’t take that picture. She couldn’t have. Not with the way she already feels the deep blush creeping up her face because- Jesus! That’s entirely too personal. She feels like she’s invading their privacy just by looking at that. This surely isn’t meant for anyone’s eyes but theirs.

It’s not like they’re visibly naked but the position of their bodies leaves literally no room for speculations. One of Eddie’s hands wrapped around Steve’s throat  and Steve looks like- well, he looks absolutely fucking blissful. Robin can practically hear the soft moans escaping his parted lips (How she knows what he sounds like, you ask? They swore to never ever talk about that incident ever again).

It looks like Eddie is kissing him. Or maybe he licks his skin. Maybe he whispers some dirty words into his ear, tells him how he’s going to wreck him – who knows? The point is, Robin doesn’t want to know because as much as she adores them, as much as she’s been prying on their sweet moments over the past weeks, there are things that should be kept between them.

She’s going to frame it and surprise them with it. (What she doesn’t know, is that Eddie sneaked that picture into her folder just to tease her. What she also doesn’t know is that there’s a whole collection of more of these kind of pictures hidden in a shoebox under their bed.)

[theflirtmeister]

Domestic hoffheight :( need some cocaine inducing fluff of the guys ever :( some chicken noodle soup for the soul

On the third day, Adam demanded his bed back.

Mark refused to move from his cocoon of bloodstained pillows and sheets, because fuck whatever Adam said. His entire body ached, one moment cold, the next burning hot, and the new stitches up the side of his face prevented him from eating anything more challenging than soup. He had spent the last three days drifting in and out of sleep, pretending not to notice when Adam checked his forehead for a temperature, or tucked the blankets around him.

Now Adam was standing there with his hands on his hips, glaring. His apartment was exactly the kind of shithole that Mark had been expecting when he dragged himself up the flights of stairs, dripping blood onto the concrete steps. There were band posters and club flyers stuck to the walls, clothes strewn on the floor and on the backs of chairs. It felt like student living, but Adam was too old to be a student, and was now just pathetic.

“Get up,” Adam said. “I’m sick of sleeping on the couch.”

“Didn’t ask you to sleep there.” Mark rasped. His throat hurt from screaming, everything raw and tender.

“You didn’t give me much choice,” Adam said. “I had nowhere else to put you.”

Mark shuffled a little to the right-hand side of the bed, but didn’t otherwise evacuate. He was comfy, and the idea of sleeping on the sofa whilst trying to keep his face from falling apart didn’t sound ideal. Adam had sewn him up with the same thread he used to patch his jeans – Mark was surprised he didn’t complete the look with a safety pin.

“Good enough,” Adam muttered, and climbed onto the bed. “You’re a real dick, you know that Hoffman?”

Mark didn’t reply. Adam lay beside him like a corpse, staring up at the ceiling, hands by his sides. He was wearing his version of pyjamas, an old band shirt and a pair of boxers that slipped down his hips. His skin was goose-pimpled, and Mark started to tug at the covers, because watching Adam freeze for the sake of martyrdom was pathetic.

“What are you doing you weirdo-” Adam started, and Mark managed to pull him underneath the thin sheets, before Adam could protest further.

Adam went very still and quiet as Mark arranged the two of them, until Adam’s back was pressed up against Mark’s stomach. He was cold to the touch, and Mark wrapped one arm around Adam’s waist, burying his nose in Adam’s hair. He smelt like cigarettes and laundry detergent, unlike the horrible rot he had stunk of when Mark had gone to collect his corpse from Kramer’s bathroom.

“You’re going to get blood on me.” Adam muttered as Mark rubbed his face against Adam.

“You wanted the bed back,” Mark replied hoarsely. “Shut up and be happy.”

“Thrilled,” Adam said sarcastically. “I love having you snorting in my ear like the fucking pig you are.”

Mark shoved his nose into Adam’s ear and inhaled loudly, causing Adam to squirm away from him in disgust. Mark gave a wheeze of a laugh as Adam furiously rubbed at the side of his face – annoying him was so easy.

“You’re the worst.” Adam snapped. “I take you into my home, and you bleed all over my things and cry all the time and slobber on me.”

“I didn’t cry.” Mark prodded Adam’s back.

“Did cry.” Adam muttered. “When you were delirious and throwing up over yourself. It was real fucking pathetic.”

“You’re pathetic.” Mark replied lamely.

He didn’t want to know what he had said when his body was going through shock – whose names he’d called out, what secrets he’d spilt to Adam. He can barely remember the first day, but has a faint memory of being held on the floor, Adam’s fingers digging into his wrist as he screamed in pain. He thinks he may have begged for Angelina.

“Great comeback,” Adam said. “Ever considered a career in comedy Hoffman, instead of serial killing?”

“Fuck you,” Mark said, resisting the urge to prod him again. “I should have left you chained up.”

“Who else would sew your ugly face back together?” Adam asked. “Everyone else is dead.”

“Shut up,” Mark grunted and dragged Adam back towards him, tangling their legs together.

Adam, surprisingly, didn’t put up a fuss, allowing Mark to hold him. He must have felt some sympathy for Mark, or else was nervous that Mark would bite his throat open if he kicked him away. Mark hadn’t shared a bed with anyone since he was a child; one-night stands rarely stayed the night, and it was strange yet familiar to listen to Adam’s quickened breathing.

“I’m making you get out of bed tomorrow,” Adam said, his voice quiet. “Even if it’s just to sit on my fucking couch. No more feeling sorry for yourself.”

Mark could have protested. He could have screamed and shouted and threatened Adam, hidden under the covers like a child. Instead, he nodded his head, tightening his grip around Adam’s skinny waist. If he slipped his hand underneath Adam’s shirt, he could have counted every rib. Mark wondered if Adam had as many as his original namesake.

“Okay,” Mark said. “I’ll leave the bed.”

“Good,” Adam said, and reached across to turn out the light, the room cast into an ominous level of darkness. At least there was still a strip of light underneath the doorframe leading to the outside hall, and Mark stared at it until his vision blurred. “You better not snore.”

“No promises.” Mark grunted, and closed his eyes.

He listened to the sound of Adam settling down for sleep, arranging his arms in several positions before he was comfortable. He was warm as he pressed himself against Mark’s stomach, hair tickling Mark’s nose. Mark’s jaw throbbed, and he chewed the other side of his cheek to try and distract himself from the pain.

“Goodnight.” Adam said suddenly, and Mark gave him another squeeze.

“Night.” He said, and let sleep swallow him up.

[idontplaytrack]

Say You Won’t Let Go

AJ Campos x fem! reader (married)

Warnings: mentions of vomiting, blood & bodily fluids. Descriptions of labour & delivery.

“Hi, precious. Happy birthday.”

I haven’t written anything like this in a long time. So, I don’t really know. But I wanted to shake things up a little.

You watch the clock on the wall, terrified. You were alone, AJ was still at practice with her students. With each passing minute, you were regretting your decision of not informing AJ once these pains started. Foolish, really. Staring at your phone, you reached out to grab it hesitantly. Once it was in your hand, it buzzes. It was AJ- asking how you were doing. Well, you’ll be damned.

Ignoring her texts, you gave her a call. She thankfully answered pretty quickly. “Hi, baby.”

“AJ. You need to come home. Now.” You exhaled shakily.

“Okay, I’m on my way, honey. Phone the midwife now.”

She hung up, rushing back home to be with you. In the meantime, you dialled your midwife Aubrey’s number to let her know that you’ve been getting consistent pains for the last hour.

“Keep timing them, I’m on my way. You’ll be just fine, y/n. Deep breaths all the way, okay? I’ll see you in a bit.”

Next on your to-contact list was Stacey. She wanted to be here and you couldn’t see why not, since you and AJ have always been close with her and Dylan even after finishing high school. Usually, Stacey and Dylan were a unit. But you weren’t too comfortable with having Dylan around so he wasn’t going to be here. Since Stacey was the nearest to yours and AJ’s place, she arrives first.

“Hi, sweetie.” She rubs your arm soothingly, her eyes excited. “How are you feeling?”

“Very uncomfortable.” You chuckled dryly. Stacey led you back to the couch after swiftly shutting the door.

“AJ’s on her way, right?”

You nodded, “And Aubrey. I just- oh, my dear God. That hurt.” You grabbed your phone to note down the duration of the contraction and the time. “You want some water?” Stacey offered.

“I’m good. How’d you get here so fast, anyway?”

“Your timing was perfect- Dylan went out with his guys. And I was just about to come over here to disturb you guys.” Stacey chuckled.

Stacey kept you occupied for the next half hour or so before AJ barged into the apartment with Aubrey. “Hi, baby. Hi.” She rushed to your side, smooching you on the cheek, “I’m here, my love.” “Me and Piper will set up the pool in case you want to use it. I’ll be right back to check on your progress, alright, hun?”

“Okay.” You nodded, your eyes screwed shut as a contraction coursed through your body. AJ let you squeeze her hand till it was over. “I’ll go get changed real quick then I’ll be right back here with you, okay?” Pressing a kiss to the crown of your head, she scurries to your shared bedroom to change out of her sweaty outfit.

Currently 5:30pm, it's hour three of labour and you were beginning to feel a little tired. And hungry. "She can eat, right?" AJ asks for confirmation. "Yes, she sure can." Aubrey answers, "Just let me know what she eats in case she gets sick so we don't get alarmed by how it looks."

"What would you wanna have, baby?" AJ asks quietly.

"I dunno- some soup?"

"I'll go heat up some for her. You stay." Stacey offered, heading for the kitchen. "Thanks, Stacey." AJ smiled gratefully. You leaned onto AJ and shut your eyes, letting the sound of whatever was playing on TV and the comfort of AJ massaging your lower back to lull you to sleep. To be fair, you couldn't on account of how shitty you were feeling, so you kept drifting in and out until Stacey walked back to you with a bowl of chicken noodle soup. Well...she put it in a mug so either of you could handle it more easily. AJ didn't even say anything and just fed you the soup. You were too tense to say anything, honestly.

"I bought some takeout, so AJ, if you wanna eat anything. Let me know." Stacey informs her. "Oh. Okay, um- you can eat first if you're hungry. I'll wait till after she's finished eating."

————

You thought that was bad? You definitely weren't as prepared as you thought you were. A little past 8pm- hour six: your back started to bother you. Really started to bother you. You whimpered pitifully, leaning onto AJ for support as she stood before you with her arms on either side of you, her fingers interlaced resting on your lower back. "What's the matter, honey?" She asks you in a whisper. "My back feels like it's on fire." You sniffled, trying your best to keep it together. AJ glances at Aubrey for suggestions, but she asks if you wanted to try the shower anyway. Aubrey seconded the suggestion, saying that it could make things a bit more comfortable for you. You agreed without a word, and they helped you get to the bathroom.

Once the hot water hit your back, you began to feel the relief. But, you could hardly stay still anymore. AJ stood beside you, Stacey was close by in case either of you needed anything. Aubrey and Piper went to make sure the pool was filled up for your use seeing your current condition. However, an abrupt pained scream from you sent Aubrey rushing back into the bathroom to check your progress. "Halfway there, hun." She announces. Right as she said that, a sickening feeling overtook your body. Seeing how flustered you were, Stacey watched you closely. AJ shut the water off, asking you what you needed. "Bin." You swallowed thickly. Stacey brisk-walked over with and held it under your chin just in time. That officially had you in tears, wishing for it to be over. But it just wasn't time yet. "You're okay, lovey. You're doing so well, y/n. You're okay. I'm right here with you." AJ reached over to grab a couple sheets of tissue to wipe off your chin. Stacey lined the bin with a new bag as a precaution, getting rid of the old one. "Think you can manage some water, darling?" Aubrey asks.

"Mmm." You mumbled incoherently, head laying forward on AJ's chest now, "No. I-" You retched, nothing came out and AJ wasn't the least bit fazed, rubbing your back. "It's alright, baby. Shh, deep breaths, hm? Just like we learnt."

"Alright, take your time. Maybe we can try some ice chips later on." Aubrey agreed in understanding. Even with the water still off, AJ carries on putting pressure on your lower back to counter against the ache. Eventually, you dried off your feet and was walking around the apartment again while wrapped in a robe. "AJ, it's nearly 10. Go eat something." You urged, "Stacey's here, I'll be okay."

"Yeah, go eat. I heated up the food already."

"You already ate?" AJ asks, unwillingly letting go of you.

"Quickly ate some." Stacey shrugged, "Eat up, we'll just stay around here so you can see her." She helps you sit down on the couch, AJ walks to the kitchen to eat. Aubrey approached you to check your progress, expectedly. "You're progressing very well, hun. 7 centimetres."

You could no longer sit comfortably as you feel the baby's head lowering. So you stood up, alarming Stacey. "I'm just standing up. Sitting's getting really unc- shit." You gasped, clutching onto Stacey's arm for dear life for the 30 seconds.

AJ returns to your side after about fifteen minutes. You were exhausted- eight hours in and barely two hours of very broken up sleep. Every time the pain hits you, you were closer and closer to bursting into tears. And you weren't sure how, but you were then able to squeeze in about a half hour of sleep: laying on the couch with your head in AJ's lap as she massages your scalp. In the meantime, AJ times the contractions on your behalf to the best of her ability while you were asleep.

————

Your eyes shot open when you felt a new pressure growing between your legs. Feeling liquid leak and trickle down your thigh, you alerted Aubrey and AJ- Stacey was at the kitchen island scrolling through her phone. The pain steadily increases for the rest of the time- which was nearly another two hours before Aubrey checked you for the last time. You've been in the pool for the past hour and it has luckily helped alleviate the pain some. "It's go time, y/n. You ready to meet your baby girl?"

You and AJ shared a look of excitement but also insane nerves mixed in with some delirium - it was finally happening. Understandably, you didn't really know what to expect, but your instincts kicked in when needed. "Push whenever you get a contraction, hun. Breath through it, you've been doing wonderful." "Do you want me to sit in there with you, babe?" AJ asks, squeezing your hands and pressing a kiss on them. You let out a low groan, nodding your head while a contraction coursed through your body. You did as your body told you to, only letting go of AJ's hand when the pain subsided. She was already changed into swim shorts instead so she could sit with you. And you...you weren't wearing anything other than a bra because Aubrey had to keep an eye on your progress. AJ settled herself behind you, letting you lay your back against her, relieving you from the kneeling position you were in for a hot minute.

“Couple more pushes and she should be crowning, mama. Come on.” Aubrey encouraged.

Suddenly feeling the burn, you burst into tears. “I can’t do it.” You choked on a sob. That ring of fire finally broke you- in terms of emotions, you rarely after showed this side. You never showed pain, in the past 10 odd hours, it’s the most vulnerable you’ve ever been since the first trimester. AJ’s been your rock through it all, helping you in every way she could: holding your hair back when you got sick, satisfying your cravings, massaging your legs and feet. Worst of all, tolerating the crazy influx of hormones.

“Baby, listen to me.” AJ coaxed, “Deep breaths, you got this, baby. I know you can do it.” Aubrey was keeping a close eye on you since things were moving along rapidly.

Another wave of contractions hit and you could only cry, “I can’t, I’m sorry.”

“You’re doing so well, honey.” Stacey chimed in.

“This is so bad…” You moaned in pain. “It’s alright, y/n. You can take a minute to catch your breath.” Aubrey reminded, “Don’t rush it.”

Stacey stayed by the side, near your back not wanting to make you more uncomfortable by looking where you didn’t want her to. You leaned back against AJ again, she tilted your face to give you a kiss on the lips, “You can do it, baby. She’s almost here.” She cups your face, stroking your cheek. “Okay? Listen to your body and you’ll be just fine.”

You took a moment to breathe then nodded decisively, “Okay. Yeah, of course I-” A contraction interrupted you, forcing you to push but the pain got so intense that you got nauseous again. “Bin, bin.” You said hurriedly. Stacey again, held the trash can beneath your chin so you could spill into it in time. You barely had anything left in you, so eventually what came out was stomach acid- which severely hurt your throat.

“Big push on the next one, alright? Get past her head, and it’ll be easier.”

You practically screamed the house down at 1:30 in the morning, no other thoughts in your head as the ridiculous pain filled your tired body. You could feel it, her head was out and as strange as it felt to you, all that mattered to you right now was getting the rest of her out. With Aubrey aiding you, that happened within minimal, the rest of your baby slid out of you, providing with sudden much needed relief. You fell back against AJ, shamelessly sobbing when you heard the fierce cries of your newborn. “Oh, my God.” You kept repeating to yourself in disbelief. Aubrey swiftly dried her off and wrapped her in a blanket before handing her to you.

“I’m so proud of you, my love.” AJ sniffles, capturing your lips into her own, “Hi, baby.” You chuckled in sheer disbelief and shock, “Oh, hi baby. You’re so perfect.” The infant very quickly calmed down in your arms as you cradled her. AJ carefully stroked her cheeks with a single finger, admiring the tiny little girl. “She’s beautiful, baby.” AJ kisses you again, “Thank you.” You couldn’t control your emotions, literally bursting into tears as you savoured the moment. “I am so proud of you. You’re incredible.”

While you rested following the delivery of the afterbirth, Piper checked you out and gave you a clean bill of health. In the meantime, Aubrey checked your baby to make sure everything was fine. And she was, thank goodness. Just noisy because she wanted you. “We’ll start cleaning everything up and let you three have some time alone to bond.” Aubrey smiled, “Congratulations, you ladies have a beautiful, healthy baby girl.”

“Thank you, Aubrey. Piper.” You said, sniffling as Aubrey handed her back to you. The two of them smiled, proceeding to carry out their task as mentioned. “I will be back to help you wash up then show you how to nurse, alright?”

“Okay.” You acknowledged with a nod, handing the baby over to AJ who’s been eagerly and patiently waiting. “Hi, precious.” AJ cooed, the biggest smile was plastered on her face, “Happy birthday.”

“We don’t have a name yet, do we?” You chuckle, fighting back a yawn.

“We have some time.” She laughs lightly, eyes not leaving you.

“Do you want to start the A initial tradition?” You ask casually.

“That’s not important. Mine and Gabs’ initial’s don’t match and we’re twins. So.” AJ says. “So on our list we had Eva, Elena, Catalina, Valentina and Penelope.”

“C.C.- could be cute for a nickname.” You mentioned.

“Yeah.” AJ agrees.

“But I’m kinda leaning more towards Elena.” You told her, “The meaning. It stands out to me more…’shining light’.”

AJ put an arm around your shoulder, “Victoria seems like a nice fit.”

“Oh, that sounds perfect.” You gasped softly.

AJ giggles, “I can call her Evie for short. That’s so cute.”

“It is so cute.” You nearly cried again, “Oh, damn hormones.”

“That’s fine, cry all you need. You just pushed through what? 12 hours without any pain medication.” AJ remarked, “That’s unbelievable.”

“How did I get so lucky?” You sigh.

AJ presses a kiss to your cheek, “I love you both so, so much.”

[johanthefriskiestofbits]

oooooo please tell me (who knows nothing on the subject) about orv swap au

hehehe. hehehehehehe. hehehehehehehhehehehhheheheh <- guy who is so normal

the premise of orv swap au (name has yet to be finalized) is this: what if kdj and yjh swapped narrative positions (reader <-> character) but very little else? what if a video game player enters a time loop to save his favorite character from dying over and over again and also to end the apocalypse?

admittedly it's not super fleshed out yet (a lot of the changes this premise would introduce are still not hammered out yet) but here are some points under the cut (novel spoilers ahead!)

orv swap au starts with pro gamer yjh who feels :/ abt his job, but hey, it pays the bills. despite (or maybe because of) his relative popularity as a pro gamer and networking with the agency/sponsors/people to impress, he's kind of isolated in a way that's detrimental, a facade of someone he's not whenever he's on camera

something to play around with is the idea of agency? maybe this yjh doesn't feel like he has any and has his hands tied between the lifestyle and being under public scrutiny and not having enough of a support system to leave everything behind. maybe he doesn't know what else he would even do. maybe he's aimless and drifting with nothing to hold on to.

his favorite video game is what i've been thinking of as World's Hardest To Play Indie Game (not based on difficulty but just on the experience of consuming it) a boring, exposition heavy, player-hostile, poorly designed, slightly buggy mess of a barely-playable game: twsa, a game that was not finished upon release and experiences with sporadic updates every now and then.

the ending tree to this game is so convoluted its insane. also theres no save states so if you die (very likely) u restart babeyyy.

twsa (video game) does have multiple endings, all of which happen when kdj, your main character, dies. some are farther into the apocolypse than others, some paths require meta knowledge of future events or character actions or items or whatever. the "true ending" is either analogous to the original 1863: kdj makes it to the end at the cost of everyone he loves, or hsy's modified 1863: kdj makes himself enemy of the scenario to secure a way out for the kimcom remnants.

there's branches on the choices tree where everyone dies and everything sucks and is bad forever and theres choices to make where kdj gets to make a family and they don't really get to settle down but they can get pretty close to it among the ruins of the apocalypse. through all his testing, yjh finds that these endings are nice but peter out - to get to the end of the apocalypse yjh has to claw his way there inch by painful inch, through betrayal and sacrifice, and he still cant fully get past it

i originally wanted to finagle a yoohankim 3 way swap but i couldn't figure it out. swap aus are a lot easier to work with when they're even numbers, at least to me, so this au features a ysa who is a video game company employee by day and by night she really has become god this time (and also a terrible indie dev). and this is how jungdoksang can still win !!!!

also yjh's coworker from Real Life hsy :) i haven't decided if she's like an employee for the same agency, or if she's someone else in the gaming circles that yjh interacts with sometimes (in my heart theyre in like some sort of discord server together), or something like that but she's around. whatever she does she is twitter cancelled for something. to me.

the only other character swaps are lsk and yma. yma is yjh's estranged sister (in broad strokes there's a vague bad parent situation going on here) (they used to be close until they drifted apart and slowly started hating each other [there is an abyss between them that neither of them can bridge]) (he feels that she betrayed him and threw him under the bus so he left [maybe he gets kicked out]) (she feels that he abandoned her to whatever situation they have going on [he didn't even try to take her with him]) and he has to find her when the apocalypse starts. yjh older sibling to yma gives us a whole different little dynamic to explore from kdj ysk (there's different levels of responsibility and guilt and blame when you're talking siblings that are soooooo interesting to me. sorry that i see any set of siblings and immediately try to figure out how to make them worse)

lsk is kdj's mom who appeared into existence at some point with kdj and they were both just adults. that's weird isn't it. oh well. i guess she can become a transcendent later too for funsies

everyone else stays in the same configuration of Real Person vs Character to me this is a very important aspect

this point has no precedent with the swap, nothing particular that would change to cause this, but it would be so funny if lgy was a little gamer boy who is an avid yjh hater. hates that guy. shows up to competitions to boo him. tunes into yjh's silent no-mic speedrunning streams to mald in chat but yjh +mods don't ban him bc its kinda funny.

anyways the apocalypse starts when yjh and his coworker/fellow gamer hsy are on a train to twitchcon and lgy is also there (also headed to twitchcon) and he brings bugs because he likes them but also to sabotage yjh specifically. its just funny if this happened. you understand

instead of having reader-related skills and abilities, yjh's skills are video game player based! he gets flavor text insight on people, location, and items, things like that. notably, he has the ability to reset, to bring himself back to the beginning of the apocalypse

orv swap proper follows yjh as the Player of the Game (Consumer of the Narrative) who lives hundred of lifetimes in this ruined-world-become-reality "replaying" [read: time looping through] the game to reshape it to save his fave character from self implosion (kdj with no dissociation is very prone to dying. all the time.). to revisit the idea of playing with yjh and the idea of agency, of creation, the only way to get past the apocalypse is to go off the beaten path, to choose options that weren't even there in the game. when in space, at his darkest point, yjh becomes a writer. in this story, at his darkest point, he has to become a creator too

please do not ask me how the epilogues go i dont know how the epilogues go (i don't want to throw yjh back into a train for milennia after he Just went through a thousand resets so i'm sending kdj for that but i havent fully planned how or why)

anyways, hope that helps!!! :)

[custardcove]

First Memories

Epilogue

The competition was over, and just about everyone had gone home. Queenie had left to preserve her dignity, Taylor had to go to work, Tech had absconded with the leftover pie, and Pansy had gone to collect her daughter. But Alice was keen on catching up with her forgotten friend. She’d fastened the locket around her neck, although Ivan said it only had to be on her person for it to work.

Under the orange afternoon sun, they sat together, one of them at the judging table and the other atop it. They shared an apricot pastry from one of the stalls.

“I feel bad saying this, but I didn’t know it was you that was missing,” Alice admitted.

“It’s fine. From what I’ve gathered about this place, remembering things isn’t easy.”

“So…” She looked away from her food to briefly make eye contact with the little yellow duck. “You don’t know how we got here either?”

“It pains me to say it, but I’m afraid not.” Ivan snorted a huff through his beak. “I remember I was with you before we got here, but then—nothing. I was just bound to that locket from then on.” He shook his head slowly. “Thank you, though.”

“For what?” Alice dropped her gaze to the tablecloth. “I didn’t do a very good job. I failed, even.”

“Sure, you didn’t win. But you still tried to help when you head me calling. Without your interference, I might never have seen sunlight. I’d still be in a drawer somewhere.” With sudden movement, he pointed his wing at her. “Don’t try to dismiss my gratitude!”

“Oh, uh. Wouldn’t dream of it.” She blinked. “But … I don’t know how to say this—but I still feel like I’m missing something.” Realising how this might sound, she quickly added, “I’m really glad I found you, of course! I just feel like there was something else I was missing, like … I don’t know. An answer to something.”

She needn’t have worried about Ivan getting offended. “A sense of purpose? The meaning of life?” He took a few big pecks of his pastry. “A lot of people are looking for answers like that.”

“Maybe something like that. I don’t really know. A reason? To … to …”

“Haven’t you found a reason? All the people here, you know them, don’t you? You care about them, and they care about you, and that’s worth developing.”

Alice thought about it. It was true, most of the people she’d met here were people she already knew. Not that she always knew how, or what that even meant. “I want to figure out why. Not just for me—for them too, I’m convinced this amnesia isn’t just some little quirk. And to repay Pansy for looking after me, and … well, Taylor for helping.”

“That sounds like a good idea to me.” For a split second, Ivan seemed to grin. “How are you going to start?”

“Well… With more pie, maybe. Or … after today, maybe I should try cake. But apart from that, I heard there are job vacancies at Erryton library. And there’s a small property not far off that I can hopefully work towards buying. Libraries have plenty of access to information, so I could start my investigation there, too…”

“It seems like you’ve got it all in hand! No real need to rescue me after all.”

“Don’t be silly.” Though Alice smiled, it soon faltered. “Although, um. I want to figure that out too. You were like – trapped in there, right? That doesn’t seem like a problem you’d usually have…”

“No. It implies I used up a devastating amount of power before whatever happened to our memories. For what reason, I can’t imagine, but it doesn’t bode well.” Ivan shook his wings. “As you can see, my form is still compromised. It’s going to be a few weeks before I can take a less humble shape.”

“Right. I wonder…” A chill breeze drifted through the square. Alice stood. “Oh, we should probably head to Pansy’s before it gets dark.”

“I wouldn’t want to impose.”

“Where else are you going to stay? In Queenie’s drawer?”

“On second thought, dropping in uninvited is fine.”

||Previous|| - ||First||

[meirimerens]

would you consider vasilissa a good mother to the twins? also what are some hcs on andreys and stakhs relationship ? how do they interact and see each other overall

mama:

she's da best... she's a very good mom and they love her even more when she gives her full and utter approval for them to kill their piece of shit of a father as an 18th birthday gift. she's always worked with/within their quirks & has never gone like. "andrey you can't stack books on peter's back like a tower this is weirdo stuff" never said that to them. she's always wanted them to be as free people as they could be so she never opposed them going to art school or andrey transferring and whatever else. they love her so. they're sooo momma's boys to me.

stakh and andrey's relationship:

ONE OF MY FAVE THINGS TO THINK ABOUT FR FR.... i assume you meaning in relation to peterstakh of course so that's what you're getting... i love to put them in situations such as this that the other... few things:

peter never had bitches ever. no fault of his, he's just A Lot To Handle. right. so when rubin starts seeing peter, andrey sees himself as his brother's chaperon (almost Obviously) so he's like. name surname name of the father political affiliation social security number what are your intentions with my twin & what time are you bringing him home

the twins are slowly drifting apart. they've been drifting apart since the death (<- well you know) of farkhad. peter has been "suffering for [...] years because of [andrey]". none of them can really live without the other but it's even more painful for andrey, so when rubin waltzes in, it feels like one more thing keeping andrey and peter from mending the bond. to andrey, it feels like The Thing that's going to tear peter from him irreparably.

jumping off from ^, eventually andrey realizes that. rubin is Literally not going to steal his place. he can't. they're Obviously not competing for the same place in peter's life and there is Obviously room for the both of them because they "complete" peter in vastly, evidently different ways. andrey realizes that it's very much a Him problem, and that rubin is Not the thing that would irreparably damage his bond with peter, but andrey being a complete dick to rubin constantly Would Be.

so eventually andrey learns to like. back off. peter having his little life and his New Friend makes it so he copes with things a little better and eventually the twins are able to mend their bond

also it becomes kinda evident to andrey that having like. Someone Else to keep an eye on peter is better.

in general peter is happier. with rubin in his life. so andrey is like. alright i'll allow it. you better get him home before 9PM though 🤨 also don't feed him anything with spices his stomach is weak

because it's really funny to me: i have you know vladrey inclinations i think it's fun. & part of lore is that rubin and vlad jr like. know each other well. so i love to think about andrey having to deal with rubin 1) bc he's dating his brother & 2) bc he's hanging out with his pub boyfriend. real funny to me

both rubin and andrey have like thick fucking skulls & refuse to back down in general so when they come face to face it's like. komodo dragons skull to skull bonk.

rubin on his side knew very well that by getting with peter he'd have to deal with andrey. like he understood it was a package deal (even though he's only Involved with one). he's only ever responded with aggression when aggressed but he never wanted to be confrontational with andrey bc he knew that'd make peter sad.

so basically he'd get barked at by andrey and just be like

he's always been very #respectful not just of peter but of the familial history he has so when andrey shows him age 30 his game of "stack books on peter's back" rubin is like. damn that's kinda impressive bro. & andrey thinks "hey man thank you... i'm sorry i was such a bitch to you but i've really struggled with feeling like me and him are growing ever more distant so hearing you accept this little game we made as kids means a lot to me and shows me maybe you are good for him. i just have to deal with my problems on my own and then peter and i will learn to be close again, close like you were before i kinda fucked it up in his mind" & yet he says "yeah dude. you wish you were that skilled"

vasilisa loves rubin btw. peter has to prime her that she Won't meet in-laws bc. he doesn't have any. but she does love him she does

[psychomoxxie]

Escape into Dreams, Like Drowning in Treacle

The constant pain I've been in is like sinking into some sort of viscous resin, which penetrates every orifice of my body -- it's suffocating, blinding, violating...

Ugh.

Sometimes, I drift off into these half-awake states that feel like I've slipped into some sort of Alice in Wonderland, Through the Lookingglass world, where I meander through strange houses with winding, steep staircases and oddly-angled doorways, having strange conversations with the people in my life...sometimes it feels so real.

Today, I could have sworn I had a very strange conversation indeed with Max, whom I've known since he was 11 or so and I was 23 or thereabouts, but it turns out that actually, we were both likely asleep in our rooms -- at least I was. Everyone here is a polyphasic sleeper, and doesn't have any kind of normative work schedule, so day-sleeping is pretty par for the course here. Me, because I'm so sick so much of the time; Max, because he's a night-owl...or rather, like me, sleeps in snatches and is up whenever his schedule requires him to be. But I digress.

These sorts of half-awake, lucid dreaming sorts of events happen more frequently when I'm in a lot of pain, and I have strange, dream-conversations with people in my life that never actually occur in the waking world. In this half-dream, Max and I were discussing moving one floor up, to an apartment that doesn't actually exist; an open-plan, huge, bright, loft-like space that is clean and uncluttered, and Saorsie wouldn't be there...ah, bliss...and our main concern was how Joe would get up the extra flight of stairs. For whatever reason, I wasn't concerned about MY getting up them...

Weird.

Anyway, then the cats woke me up for dinner, and that was that. I'm still trying to space out my pain pills as far as possible, so sleeping is a good way to just check out of the world, when I'm able to manage it.

Sleeping while in pain is like sinking into a vat of treacle -- cloyingly sweet and tempting. Sticky, hard to extricate oneself from. I never really want to wake up from these particular dreams...

I want to stay in my pain-free dreamlands, where I can choose the people with whom I spend my time, there are beautiful, huge houses with endless rooms and places to explore, and music, and massive gardens, and animals; it's never cold, and I'm never too tired to explore.

There are times I wish I could just stay there.

[jlf23tumble]

Would love to know your thoughts on grimmy x Harry. I think they were close friends who used to flirt a lot. I think at one point nick wanted them to be together. I think the fact that Harry is still closeted still bothers nick.

I disagree with your last statement times one THOUSAND, Nick has never EVER made any kind of indication that he'd even remotely do something as shitty as that, it's wildly against his character, and, in fact, he's done quite the opposite multiple times (like, in actual verifiable media, plus I'm sure he knows a lot more closeted people in the entertainment biz than Harry Styles, and I'd be highly surprised if he was suddenly unfriending them all at the level he unfriended Harry Styles). That's off the table completely for me--I see some truly horrific shit takes in this fandom, and that by far is one of the absolute worst, ugh. But since you asked, I *do* have other thoughts, and I think about them quite a bit, tbh, especially in the wake of this past week. I've had two drinks, so I'll actually share 'em on main, woo hoo! As I see it, there are a few options off the top of my head, and I have time for all of them, in any combination, feel free to share yours, assuming they aren't trying to paint Nick GRIMSHAW as a homophobe:

1. Harry's in an open relationship (in whatever way you want to view that), and Nick was part of it...on the day of the tree-climbing post (which is the last bit of public friendliness on Nick's side), Nick might have suggested he was ready for something more and/or Harry broke things off, heated words were exchanged, real hurt happened, Nick said enough, and then he moved on (and boy did he! he met Mesh in the world's best meet-cute story ever right after this and found what looks like solid happiness...Ralph has a timeline somewhere, but I couldn't find it, this is close).

2. RELATED: Harry and Nick were an exclusive item at some point and officially broke it off around the tree-climbing post, heated words were exchanged, etc. It seems kind of weird that Nick would instantly fall in love with someone else, like, later that week in this scenario, but it's possible! If you want to lose yourself in the gryles rabbithole, I'd start here. Or listen to all of those flirty BBC Radio 1 clips in full, don't just cherry pick 'em.

3. Nick and Harry never had a physical relationship, but Nick nursed a tremendous crush, actually admitted it (on or near the tree-climbing post day), and was turned down, heated words were exchanged, etc., and he was more than ready to move on to someone who loved him back. Nick seems to be the kind of person who makes a lot of room for a lot of friends, though, so a spurned crush seems like a reach, but yeah, still possible, I guess??

4. Nick really did NOT like what was happening with Fine Line (the album) and/or the promotion for it, and heated words were exchanged accordingly. This one lines up the most with the timing. Lily Allen's chat with Nick in September (one month after the tree-climbing post) is a big hint because at the time, you could have read Nick's snark as related to Louis or even Liam, but Harry's a strong contender, too, in hindsight. Once promo kicked off in earnest, Nick was pointedly either taking digs or handling it through omission, and Harry was steering far clear of his show. There was a slight getting together at the Brits in 2020 (right after Caroline's death), but other than that, literal radio silence...until last week. And the words in that message are mighty interesting, too, as was Nick's omitting of Harry in all kinds of places in the lead-up to his final show.

Whatever happened, it IS the most mightiest of interestingness that there are zero tabloid stories about them falling out. Nobody has seemingly picked it up, and it seems like such an obvious buzzy story the tabs would eat up (the only stories even remotely close to it are really recent, and they mention Harry's message, Nick officially saying he never dated Harry, but nothing about how they went from being tight to being something quite frosty, and they were REGULAR tabloid fixtures for years, which is kinda sus in and of itself). Molto curioso!

Oh, and because I can’t just leave it, one of the worst things I saw last week was how much this fandom likes to control its faves. Harry actually did say “I love you” in his message to Nick, and that bit got cut out of most transcripts and at least one audio clip by so-called update accounts...a fandom of literal babies, I can’t stress how much damage you do when you try to control the “narrative” lmao, you don’t own reality! God, it drives me fucking nuts. 

[soleilstice]

amortentia in the air

These are my personal favorites out of all the Harry Potter fics I've read! A reminder to please give love to all the writers you adore! They're writing for free, even going so far as to spend a whole day or more writing! 

I’m going to update this at a later time. I’ve read too many and loved too many fics. They all need to be here!

Last Update: December 20, 2021

✦ REGULUS BLACK ✦

—Pinks, Blues, and Yellows by @quillsanddaydreams - a short headcanon-fic by one of my favorite writers in this site! This fic, of course, showed how soft Regulus really is. I love him so much and I’m glad to see people requesting and writing about him.

—Runaways by @messers-moony - this fic isn’t a romantic reader insert, but a sibling reader insert! I’m just so happy I got to read a Sirius, Regulus, and reader sibling fic without them drifting apart and hating each other!

—Arranging Fate by @padfoot-and-prongsie - Regulus seems more like Sirius in this fic but who knows, a playful side to him that only appears when he’s with the reader is interesting! This is fic is a bit spicy, but very good!

—Safe Haven by @dreamcxtcherr - again, one of my favorite writers! This fic is both fluffy and angsty, with the reader and Regulus only having each other to rely on. They spend their days together at their shared attic, pouring whatever feelings they couldn’t show to their families. 

—Peppermints and Cologne by @lotsoffandomimagines - amortentia, yes. I love this concept. A flustered reader and Regulus is just *chef’s kiss*. 

—Later by @thoseofgreatambition - I am such a sucker for secret admirer tropes... Regulus is so cute here and I love how Andromeda helped him. The reader’s boldness is a plus too!

—A Little Longer by @quillsanddaydreams - Regulus secret relationship tropes break and mend my heart... 

—Belong Together by @cupids-crystals - one of my favorite authors, probably the first fic writer I followed with this blog! I’m more than certain that Regulus feels inferior to Sirius in some ways, despite being the “favored” child by his parents. This fic is just so fluffy, with the reader reassuring him of her feelings.

—Muggle Devices by @cupids-crystals​ - if only Regulus got to go along with Sirius when he ran away... this fic explores the happiness in that “if only”, with the reader teaching Regulus how to call her with a telephone. 

— a short Regulus prompt by @/scandalous-chaos - this. This is a super good short standalone fic and I can’t help but think I want someone to write a poem for me like that.

✦ JAMES POTTER ✦

—The Best Prankster by @deathlyhogwarts - I don’t read much James fics but this! The prompt is amazing, completely in character with James’s persistence. It’s really cute too (and funny)!

— A Done Deal by @/wrathspoet - this was so cute and kinda wild—this fic is just SO James if you know what I mean!

— Authenticity by @/mirclealignr - pureblood customs can go and * themselves. 

— Insufferable @/mirclealignr - I LOVE James reader insert detention fics... especially when it’s enemies to lovers (or at least on the way to lovers)!

✦ CEDRIC DIGGORY ✦

—Invisible String by @wnterwidows - For those hopelessly pining for someone else, this is a fic you’ll want to read! The pain hits way too close to home but you’ll actually be happy in the end because it has a happy ending!

—Real by @wnterwidows - the trust issues are real in this one! It’s classic fluff, appealing to me with one of my favorite tropes: secret admirers. Cedric is the secret admirer in this one, which makes it all the more cuter!

—Second Task by @screamingpasta - please, if I really was the reader in this fic I would slap Cedric. Spending my nights crying over a boy only to find out that [redacted] is the last thing I’d want! It has one of my favorite tropes as well, which you’ll be left to guess when you read it!

—a Cedric prompt by @persuasivus - not too long and very very cute as well! The reader is so sassy, a type I’d like to see with Cedric more often!

—Somebody to You by @iliveiloveiwrite - an evening dose of fluff before you go to sleep! It features the tug of war between two people in love with each other. This fic is a mess of hidden feelings and it’s just so cute!

—Yule Ball from the Sidelines by @imaginexmeintheuniverse - this one HURT. The first few sentences of this fic just prove my statement. I LOVE these types of fics, with one of them ‘liking someone else’ and the other just... suffers. 

—Woes of a Prefect by @wondernimbus - honestly so cute! I love the first years here, they’re so honest that it’s really funny! This fic just shows how much of a good boyfriend Cedric is (definitely my type)! 

—Ceaseless Interruptions by @imaginexmeintheuniverse - this is the fic that pushed me to start reading Cedric reader inserts. It has my favorite five times trope (five times they almost kissed + the one time they did). 

—The Art of Flirtation by @dreamcxtcherr - please, if Cedric was beside me I wouldn’t get anything done too. This is a short, very very fluffy fic! I want to go on a date with him so much it’s not even funny anymore.

✦ DRACO MALFOY ✦

—They’ll Hold Him Down by @boxofbadaddiction - this is NOT A READER INSERT but I love how this fic emphasized the lack of a normal family Draco had. It was always about pureblood status, the Malfoy name, and whatnot. I’m also hooked with the concept of Mr. and Mrs. Weasley looking out for him.

—Trouble and Sufferings by @holden-caulfield - this fic isn’t that romantic, but it’s cute nonetheless! Professor Trelawney just making Draco and the reader ??? with some accurate prophecies!

—The Girl by @holden-caulfield - probably my favorite Draco fic! I love the pen pals trope, it’s just so romantic! It’s also fluffy-angst (slight) with a happy ending. It’s like the author mixed all the stuff I love into one fic!

—How to Fall in Love by @holden-caulfield - yes, love potions. Another one of my favorite tropes. This trope gave that little push both Draco and the reader needed to come to terms with their feelings!

—Desperately by @holden-caulfield - this is basically Blaise snitching Draco’s feelings to the reader and it’s just so cute and funny! Draco didn’t even know what was going on, but he got what he wanted in the end anyway!

—You’re Pretty! by @desiredmalfoy - this honestly sounds something Draco would say when he sees his super pretty girlfriend when he’s not thinking properly (and thus can’t remember anything about his super pretty girlfriend). 

—Shake on It by @tcmhollnd - an ongoing series I love so much! I can’t wait for it to update (no pressure to the author of course)!

—Wardrobe Malfunction by @tcmhollnd - one of my favorite Draco fics as well! This fic has a secret relationship trope with fluff and angst, ending happily, of course!

✦ HARRY POTTER ✦

—Nervous by @scvrllet - I don’t read much Harry fics but I absolutely loved this! It isn’t too long and the high school fluff is just right! It’s perfect if you want to read one more fic before you go to sleep!

✦ NEWT SCAMANDER ✦

To make things short, I had a phase where I read Newt reader inserts (angst with or without a happy ending—all involving Tina or Leta or both) as my coping mechanism. All of the following fics are by @inkstainedfanfics​ unless stated otherwise:

—Burdens 

—What’s a One-Sided Friendship Called?

—Friendships Can’t Last Forever

—Another Ghost in the Halls

—Breaking Down

—Three’s a Crowd

—Insecurities

—What’s in France

[brattata]

Windows

Crossposted from my AO3 account, if it seems familiar. Mature content below, so minors please DNI!

Joseph's been putting a lot of work into your real estate business, and it's really starting to pay off. You wanted to congratulate him by christening his fancy new desk in his fancy new office, but things don't go according to your plan.

Joseph Joestar x AFAB reader (no female pronouns used, but reader wears feminine clothing)

CW: Semi-public sex, exhibitionism/voyeurism, creampie, Joseph says “cunt” one (1) time 

“It’s impressive,” you admit, leaning in for an almost-kiss.

Instead of closing the distance, Joseph grabs your hands and pulls you up from the couch excitedly, leading you over to the far wall. “You haven’t seen the best part yet,” he teases. “Watch this.”

He reaches up to press a subtly disguised switch, and it becomes apparent that the “wall” is actually a massive floor-to-ceiling window, slowly revealed from behind the dark wood paneling.

“Wow,” you whisper, pressing your hand to the cool glass. Beyond it is the Manhattan skyline, breathtaking from 15 stories up. The brightness of the city obscures most of the stars, but the thousands of twinkling lights and glowing windows are beautiful in their own way. There are people behind some of those windows, you think – working late, or maybe enjoying time with their families. Maybe taking in the view with the person they love most, the way you are now.

Joseph hums a kiss into your hair, wrapping his arms around you from behind. His comforting weight against your back and impish smile reflected in the glass make you feel so warm inside, your heart could burst.

Until one of his hands slips beneath your skirt.

“JoJo!” you gasp, grabbing his wrist. “What are you doing?”

“Oh come on, don’t be coy!” he laughs. “The champagne, the perfume…that skirt, with no nylons underneath.” His smirk is undeniably sexy, but that only makes you more annoyed. “You didn’t come here for a tour of the new office.”

“No, I wanted to celebrate with you!” You pause. “In your new chair, or maybe on top of your new desk. But not in front of a window, Joseph!”

“Why not?” he asks, almost sounding genuinely perplexed.

“Someone could see!”

“Who?” he laughs again. “It’s late. No one’s watching. Even if they were, they would be too far away to see our faces.” Now he’s trailing kisses down the back of your neck, shameless as ever in exploiting your weaknesses. “And besides, I think you like an audience.”

“I-JoJo, what-,” you splutter, scandalized and yet burning at his accusation.

“I noticed last summer at Grandma Erina’s,” he replies, letting his lips brush against your nape. “When Smokey walked in on us. You remember, right?”

How could you forget? Even now, the memory has your insides twisting with a complicated emotion you can’t quite place. Like embarrassment but sharper, hotter. Exciting.

“I’d never seen you make that face before. Not to mention the way you held onto me…and well, held onto me.” Joseph pauses from tormenting your neck to flash you a dirty little grin. “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it since.”

“O-oh, Joseph, I’m. I don’t know,” you trail off. Immediately his chin comes to rest on top of your head, one arm draped around your shoulders and the other curling soothingly around your waist.

“I’ll do whatever you want me to, baby,” he murmurs. “I only want to make you feel good.”

You take a moment, studying your feelings and Joseph’s gentle (but hopeful) expression. Then you unfasten your skirt.

Immediately Joseph lets go of you with a little whoop and a fist pump before tearing into his shirt and tie.

“God, you’re lucky you’re handsome,” you scold him good-naturedly, giggling a bit at his childishness. You kick the skirt away, opting to leave your kitten heels on. Next comes your blouse, which you unbutton slowly for Joseph’s benefit. His shirt is gone, along with his belt. He palms himself lazily over unbuttoned pants, watching your fingers work.

“Don’t forget heroic, a genius, and—“ his bragging is cut short by a low whistle as your bra is revealed, a delicate little number formed of translucent lace. Once you let the blouse fall he can fully appreciate the matching panties, cupping your ass nicely but leaving very little to the imagination. “Baby, you did come dressed to celebrate.”

When you reach back to undo the bra clasp Joseph stops you, lips back on your neck and hands rubbing your shoulders. Instead you tug the cups down until your breasts spill out, earning you a hissed “Niiice” before his hands quickly replace the lace. The contrast is delicious – warm, calloused flesh on one side, smooth and cool metal on the other. Both options have your nipples pebbling almost instantly, Joseph kneading your tits with reverence as if this is a rare treat rather than something he gets to do almost every day.

It is kind of a special occasion.

Before long his right hand drifts down your stomach, slipping deftly into your underwear. You’re so slick he can barely keep a finger on your clit, forcing a whine from you and a low groan from him. “Holy shit, you’re wet! The thought of putting on a show for some strangers gets you this worked up?”

“N-no, I’m excited for you, JoJo,” you coo, hips undulating along with his fingers. “It feels so good when you touch me.”

“Hmm, seems like I barely need to touch you at all,” he replies, back to his smug grin. With little warning he slips one finger inside you, then two, then three. There’s the tiniest sting, but you take them all easily. “See? You’re already ready for me.” It’s hard to argue when his strong, thick fingers are knuckle deep inside you and your pussy is still aching for more. “Since you want it so badly, guess it’s time to stop playing around and have some real fun.” The fingers are gone. “Bend over, baby.”

With a shaky sigh you do as you’re told, bracing your hands against the window and sliding your legs apart. You can’t resist wiggling your hips a little, asking for a playful swat from Joseph’s right hand. His left hand is suddenly gripping your ass, thumb spreading your lower lips open even wider and sweeping the gusset of your panties aside. You hear a zipper and rustling fabric, but instead of his cock, it’s a puff of warm air that caresses your pussy, followed by a firm stroke of his tongue.

“Oh, fuck!” you wail, leaning your forehead against the glass.

“Not until you beg for it, my love,” Joseph chuckles. “I can eat this sweet pussy all night! Make you come until you’re crying for my cock!”

“JoJo!” you moan, desperately. You want to ask what’s gotten into him, but he’s sucking hard on your clit and you can barely hold a thought. He’s always been vocal during sex, but his babbling is usually sweet, not this demanding or…filthy. You love your adorably enthusiastic Joseph, but this version is also thrilling, and it makes you wonder if you’re not the only one excited by imagining eyes on the other side of the window. He’s slurping your pussy so loudly you know it’s deliberate, groaning like you’re the most delicious thing he’s ever tasted.

And for another reason, you realize, when you look at your reflections and see him vigorously stroking his cock. It’s the sight that carries you over the edge: Joseph kneeling with his face buried between your legs, so turned on that he can’t help but touch himself. You come with a strangled squeal, and Joseph gives your clit an affectionate peck as if to say “good job.” He’s gripping the base of his cock so hard it looks painful.

“Fuck me, JoJo,” you gasp. “Please, please fuck me.”

“Whatever you want, baby.”

You rest for a bit against the window while Joseph stands and adjusts his grip on your hips. Now there are two thumbs spreading you open completely, which you might protest as embarrassing if you weren’t turned on beyond all pretense. You suck in a breath when the head of his cock finally kisses your opening, only for him to stop before taking the plunge.

“Look at that. It’s show time after all.” Blearily, you lift your head to see a silhouette in one of the windows in the office building across from you. Whoever it is has dimmed their lights so you can’t see much other than a vague shape, but it’s easy to imagine a strange pair of eyes staring into yours as Joseph sinks deep with one thrust.

The sudden stretch and the arousal have you coming again, softly this time, an aftershock of the pleasure you got from Joseph’s tongue. He leans his weight against your ass and holds still, luxuriating in the way you ripple around him, like you want him even deeper. “Fuck, this is good! We should’ve done this sooner!”

“Yeah,” you agree dreamily, grinding back against Joseph while you wait for him to move. He pulls back and thrusts hard, making your palms squeak against the glass.

“Maybe-“ he grunts, “maybe we should try it again on Monday morning. I’ll brace you against the doorway of my office, just like this, and we can show everyone that sexy face you’re making. Show them how hard I make you come.”

“But I don’t want them to see,” you murmur back. “Those things, I only want to show them to you, JoJo.”

“S-shit,” he gasps. “Fuck, you’re so hot. So beautiful!” He has a hand around your breast again, lips, tongue, and teeth trailing across your neck and shoulders just the way you like. He presses his face next to yours and gently tilts your chin up, making you look out the window again. “It looks like our new friend agrees.”

Across from you, the silhouette’s arm is moving back and forth. You can’t really see what’s happening, but you know.

“You’re so sexy, you’ve got him jerking off in the middle of his office,” Joseph laughs breathily. He slips two fingers between your parted lips, stroking your tongue in time with his thrusts. “Who could blame him? Watching those gorgeous tits bouncing above that pretty lace. Imagining his cock is the one pounding out your hot little cunt.”

You stiffen up a bit at the vulgarity and Joseph kisses your temple, asking with his eyes if what he said was okay. “Yes, yes, fuck,” you moan around his fingers, bracing against the glass to shove yourself into his cock, demanding deeper, harder, more. Joseph tilts his head to kiss you hungrily. His wet fingers go straight to your clit where they rub and pinch until you’re whimpering into his mouth, near tears.

“He can’t even hear how wet you are,” Joseph continues. “So wet you’re dripping all over the nice new carpet.”

You laugh a little at that. “As if you’re not desperate to make an even bigger mess, JoJo,” you tease back, lips touching as you pant into each other’s mouths. “Will you clean me up, baby? After you make a mess of me?”

“Fuck yes,” Joseph groans. “I’ll do anything, anything!”

“Come for me. Come inside me. I need it so badly, JoJo.” Whether it’s a plea or a command, Joseph can’t help but obey. He presses his face between your shoulder blades and one lightly Hamon-charged fingertip to your clit, and you’re thrown off the cliff of a breathless, whiteout orgasm. It feels like every muscle in your body is clenching for Joseph’s cock. He’s scorching hot and huge inside you as he fills you up, and you wring him for every last drop. He slowly pulls out and helps you right yourself, turning your back to the window as he leans down for a kiss.

“That was amazing. I love you.” Before you can return the words he’s already sinking to his knees, nudging your legs apart so he can fit between them.

“Joseph, I’m tired,” you demur, stroking his sweaty bangs away from his forehead.

“But I still need to clean up,” he insists. When he grins at you like that, you can’t say no. “I’ll go slow, baby, I promise.”

He starts with your inner thighs, looking very pleased with himself when he gets a few giggles out of you from the ticklish sensation. When his mouth finally reaches your center it is slow and soothing. He’s not trying to force another orgasm from you – just enjoying you, caring for you, showing his love. You don’t come by the time he’s finished, but you don’t need to. You just want him to hold you, so he does.

When you reach the couch he plops down on it, keeping you cradled in his lap. He takes off both of your shoes and stretches out on his back (as much as he can), draping you across his front. He’s warm, and you can feel his heartbeat beneath your cheek, and even though you know you’re going to be ungodly sore tomorrow, right now everything feels perfect.

“Thank you,” you murmur, pressing a kiss to the center of his chest.

“Anytime, baby,” he chuckles warmly. He smiles up at you, looking happy but not as content as you feel.

“Is everything okay?” you ask, a little worried. “It was good for you, wasn't it? Not…weird?”

“Of course, it was great for me! Don’t look at me like that!” He reaches for your cheek, rubbing at the corner of your frown. “I was just, ah,” he clears his throat, adjusting your position so that you’re more beside him than on top of him. On the way down, your leg brushes what is unmistakably a semi-erection already straining against his briefs. “I was just thinking about what you said earlier, about ‘celebrating’ on my desk.”

“Absolutely not,” you groan, nuzzling against his shoulder, eyes already closed.

“Your next line is: ‘Maybe tomorrow, JoJo!’”

“Nice try.”

[shingia]

Could I request Kuroo, Bokuto, Tsukishima, Sakusa, Miya twins, and Tendou with a reader who used to self harm but was sober for a while, only to relapse after they left bc of a huge argument then please and thanks? Sorry if that’s really intense tho. And thank u for being so nice🙂💞

[𝐓𝐖] 𝐒/𝐎 𝐑𝐄𝐋𝐀𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐎 𝐒𝐄𝐋𝐅-𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐌

ok i reaaally hope this is what you expected. i didn’t know what kind of ending you wanted but i decided that you, my friend, needed comfort, so i gave you comfort because you deserve it ❤️️

i hope reading this will make you feel better! kisses on your nose ❤️️

type : (strong) angst | word count : 4.4K

warnings : mentions of self-harm, depiction of depressive behavior (plz do not read if any of these might trigger something, i want you all to be safe <3)

⇀ 𝐤𝐮𝐫𝐨𝐨

« fuck you, kuroo. fuck. you. ». those were the last words you had told him. they had hurt, but they were nothing compared to the last words he had told you, the words that kept playing over and over in your head as you slowly felt yourself drift to your old habits again : « i’m done with you ».

was it your fault ? did you push him over the edge ? you had many questions to ask kuroo, but he wasn’t there to answer anymore. so these thoughts were left spiraling in your head as you started to lose balance between love and pain. because his love used to be the cure to your pain. so now what ? what were you supposed to do other than going back to your old habits ? you couldn’t think of any answer.

on monday morning, you woke up thirty minutes earlier because, first of all, you needed some time for the swelling of your eyes to go down, and second of all, you needed to mentally prepare yourself to see kuroo again. it had been two days since your fight, and he had not manifested himself once. it seemed to be well and truly over ; and that thought had been the main cause of the collapsing of your mental strength over the last two days.

during your first period, although you were avoiding his gaze, kuroo couldn’t help but cast glances in your direction. because he knew you better than anyone, and he could only imagine how hurt you were.

but he really started to get suspicious when he noticed you were not raising your hand to correct today’s homework. he had helped you with that last week, and you had told him that you felt confident enough to propose your correction to the class ; which rarely happened. so why weren’t you raising your hand ?

he had a bad feeling about the answer… he didn’t care about giving you quick glances anymore, he just stared at your arms until one of your movements would make your sleeve reveal just a few inches of your skin.

and he was horrified to have his fears confirmed. the cuts that he had so often kissed while holding you in his arms were back. and he knew it was all because of him. and although his first thought was that it was not his job to heal them anymore, he couldn’t bring himself to act unbothered.

he had loved you for long enough to know that you needed him right now. or maybe he still loved you ? it was not clear, but it didn’t matter right now. what mattered was that he needed you to listen to what he wanted to say, even if that was the last thing you accepted to hear from him.

« y/n, we need to talk » he told you once you got out of the classroom. you looked up at him ; his face was unusually austere. he carefully grabbed your shoulder and took you away from everyone else. 

« i can’t… i couldn’t walk out of there pretending like i didn’t see what your arms looked like » he started. « now listen, i know i fucked up, but i still care. and you still matter. whatever our relationship is doesn’t define you and most importantly, these don’t define you » he pointed at your wrists, his brows furrowed with concern. « so please, i’m begging you, keep in mind that i’m always here if you need to talk. always. and if you don’t want to talk to me that’s fine, but in that case, please find someone else. for the sake of everything we've been through together, don't let everything you’ve accomplished go to waste » and he wrapped his arms around you in the strongest hug he had ever given.

⇀ 𝐛𝐨𝐤𝐮𝐭𝐨

it had already been a week. and bokuto had absolutely no idea what to do. call you ? text you ? probably not. what would he even say ? « hi, sorry for slamming the door in your face after screaming at you for fifteen minutes. am i still your boyfriend ? » awful idea.

and while bokuto was pondering every option he had left to get in touch with you, you were left in the darkest place of your mind. and you hadn’t felt like that in a few months. because bokuto used to always be there, his number on speed dial whenever you feared you would relapse. and thanks to his unwavering support, you hadn’t. but was there anything in this world that was truly unwavering ? you really started to doubt it. and now that bokuto had left you, what could carry the pain away ? whatever the answer was, you were in no condition to think rationally about it.

you remembered how he used to celebrate every improvement in your mental health, how strong of a cornerstone he had been for you. and just the fact of not knowing where you guys were at after your fight was enough to make you feel like you were drowning again.

you were overflowing with emotions that you thought you couldn’t control, and apart from holding on tight to bokuto’s chest, you only knew one way to feel better.

you loved him, you really did. but after a week without hearing from him, you started to think that maybe his feelings were not as real as he pretended they were. and how could you not blame him for that ? for letting you down so fast ?

curled up in your bed, tears were streaming down your face ; because you felt weaker than you had promised yourself to be. you were exhausted, in every sense of the word, yet there was still a tiny bit of strength left in your body that made you grab your phone and open your conversation with bokuto. the last message was a bitter pill to swallow : « no problem babe, i’m always here for you ». it was just a week ago but it felt like an eternity had passed. your fingers started slowly typing on the screen and immediately hit sent, knowing that you would second guess your message if you re-read it. « can we talk? », just three words, it was the maximum you could get off of your chest right now.

but bokuto did not answer. for the simple reason that he was too busy catching his breath in front of your door. he frantically knocked, not stopping until you opened it.

« oh my god, are you okay ?! » he exclaimed, patting your entire body like he wanted to make sure you were well and truly there. and once he had made sure of that, he pulled you against his chest like he wasn’t planning on letting you go ever again. « did- did you… » he ventured to ask, not wanting to finish his sentence precisely because he was afraid of your answer. but when he heard you let out a muffled sob against his chest, his fears instantly got replaced by guilt. more than he had ever felt. « you’re alright, i got you. i got you now… » he murmured, his hands stroking your back tenderly. « we’ll get through this together, ok ? we’ll show the world how strong you are. because i know you are. »

⇀ 𝐬𝐚𝐤𝐮𝐬𝐚

yes, sakusa had run away. and he was glad he had. because he knew how hurtful he could be with his words, and he had enough respect not to inflict that to you. but as he made his way back home, doubt started installing in his head. what if he shouldn’t have left you after your fight ? he immediately shook the thought away. no, you were good now. you were better. nothing like who you were when he met you.

and sakusa could be very convincing when he needed to, including with himself. that’s why he didn’t get in touch with you for the next three days, because he thought you just needed some time for yourself.

but when he received a worried text from komori when he got out of the gym after practice, he changed his mind within seconds. « i just saw y/n, something felt off. maybe you should check on them ? ».

sakusa felt a wave of guilt descend upon of him. of course he should. it was his fucking job to offer you his help, even when he thought you didn’t need it. and especially when he knew what you had already been through. he cursed himself all the way to your house, where he could only imagine how lonely you felt. not wanting to waste any more time, he pulled out his phone to call you. and heaved a relieved sigh at the sound of your voice : « hey, are you ok ? like, right now are you doing ok ? » he asked hastily. 

you sat on your bed and rubbed your strained eyes, fiddling with the cloth of your t-shirt. « i- yeah, i’m good… » you lied. « i’m at your door, open up please, i gotta see you » he said before hanging up.

you knew sakusa was not going to take no for an answer. so, after wiping your tears and putting on a long-sleeved hoodie and sweatpants, you went to open the door. 

« hi… » you uttered quietly. sakusa didn’t dare to move. he had been so determined to get to your house, but now that you were standing in front of him, he wasn’t so sure of what he was supposed to do.

you decided to be the first to break the silence,  « i’m okay. and i’m sorr… » « sorry. about everything. » he pre-empted you. seeing you like this made him fear the worst. so he gently grabbed your wrists like he wanted to hold your hands, when in reality he just wanted to confirm his thoughts. and when he saw you stiffen at his touch, he knew he had guessed right. « come here » he whispered before going in for a hug. but you pulled away at the last second. « can we… go to my room ? i- i feel better there » you asked timidly.

he didn’t even answer and simply wrapped his arm around your shoulder before taking you to your bedroom where you immediately curled up on your bed. you didn’t want sakusa to see you like this, but you were in no position to fight back anymore. quietly, he laid beside you and pulled you in a warm embrace, just tight enough to let you know that he got you now. 

when he noticed you were trying to find something to say, to explain yourself, he shushed you with a kiss on your shoulder. « you don’t have to speak if you don’t want to. but i want you to listen to me very carefully : don’t ever think that you’re back to square one now. you’ve dealt with this before, you’ve grown and you can do it again as long as you promise yourself to get back up. and i won’t leave your side. you deserve so much more than what you give yourself, and i’m here to remind you »

⇀ 𝐭𝐬𝐮𝐤𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐦𝐚

tsukishima’s pride was important to him, everyone knew it. the only thing he valued as much as his pride was probably you. but during your arguments, the scale always tipped in his pride’s favor, you simply could not compete.

but surprisingly enough, it was you who had told him to go away after getting in the most heated argument you had ever had. and he didn’t have to be told twice : you had shattered his beloved pride, and he was not going to stay here begging for your mercy.

he still loved you, but he also had no problem ignoring you at school. yet for some reason, this argument didn’t sit well with him. well, no arguments ever sat well with him, but today felt different. 

ignoring you was one of the most hurtful things tsukishima could ever do to you. he had helped you through so much, and suddenly becoming a stranger to him was slowly bringing you back down.

« it’s just one time, i won’t relapse » you thought the first time you tried to cope with the pain the way you used to. but you feared it wouldn’t be just one time. you were diving into what you had said goodbye to ; but now that tsukishima was ignoring you, there was no one to stop you from falling, right ? 

well, that would have been true if he hadn’t kept a discreet but attentive eye on you. which is why he knew very well that you had gone back to your old habits. and he needed to do something about it.

but he wasn’t good with words, and he feared that actions would not be enough this time. he needed something more permanent, something that you could keep with you all the time. so he decided to do something he had never done before, and gave it to you as soon as it was done…

receiving a letter from tsukishima was definitely not something you expected. but what was written in it was even less expected.

« i’m not the best at this kind of stuff, but… i really need you to stop being so hard on yourself. i know it’s not something i usually say, but i fell in love with you because i learned to love your imperfections. and you have to start doing the same about yourself. please. and if you need to be held, to be listened to, i’ll be there. but i wanted to write something because i want you to be able to read this as much as you need, as much as you want. i want you to get better, but even more than that, i want you to want to get better. you can do it, i believe in you more than you can think. please come to me if you need it. i love you ».

the tears that streamed down your face had a salty taste, but for the first time in a long time, they tasted like hope as well. and the next time you came face to face with yourself and your thoughts, your eyes found find their way back to the letter, and you knew that there were people that still believed in you, counted on you, loved you. tsukki was just the first one of a long list. (<3)

⇀ 𝐚𝐭𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐮

he had been there through everything. more than you would have imagined. which is probably why you felt desperately empty ever since he got so angry at you that he left without looking back. but at the time, it simply had not crossed his mind that you would suffer so deeply from his words.

but you did. a lot. and that was the reason you found yourself crying on your bedroom floor, not even able to be mad at anyone but yourself.

still oblivious to the true damage, atsumu thought he could get back to you by pretending like nothing had happened. he often did that because, to him, what was in the past belonged in the past. except that today, and in your situation, it could not work.

« wanna grab something to eat ? » was the first text he sent you. and you didn’t feel like answering, so you didn’t. « are you still mad ? i’m not <3 » was the second one. but you still didn’t feel like answering. maybe it was your fault ? maybe you were overreacting while you were just supposed to play it cool like he did ? but you would have played it cool if you knew how to.

when atsumu decided to go to your house, it was initially to apologize in person. he had not planned on seeing you looking the way you did, which was a heart-wrenching reminder of the dark period of time you had gotten through together. but here he was, standing in front of you, feeling more helpless than ever. he knew too well the look into your eyes, one that he hadn’t seen in a long time. 

he dropped the pack of snacks he was holding in his hands before cupping your cheeks. « oh no, no, no. i fucked up, didn’t i ? i am… so so so sorry. c-can you forgive me ? » he stammered, absolute panic in his eyes as he took you in his arms. why would i have to forgive you ? you thought. i’m the only one to blame. 

but atsumu seemed to also hear the things you didn’t say, and he refused to let you feel guilty for anything. ever so gently, he took your hands in his before placing the softest kisses on your wrists that were still covered by the sleeves of your hoodie. « i probably won’t ever forgive myself for leaving you alone. but promise me you’ll always come to me if you need help, or any kind of support, hugs, kisses… you name it. i’ll be your coping mechanism, and i’ll be the best you’ve ever had »

and he kept holding you for a long time, at least until he felt your breath become steady again. and if you thought atsumu was doting before, prepare yourself to be even more amazed now.

⇀ 𝐨𝐬𝐚𝐦𝐮

fighting with osamu was not frequent, fortunately. but when fights occured, it was bad. really bad. he tended to think that you could endure as much as atsumu when it came to harsh words ; but you couldn’t.

kind of like his brother, samu had a tendency to leave the past behind and pretend like nothing happened when he got in touch with you after a fight. and that’s what he did a week ago, after one of the biggest arguments that you had ever had.

too happy that he seemed to still want to be your boyfriend, you didn’t have the courage to tell him how you had gone back to your old habits during the time you were on bad terms. but as they said, old habits died hard, and your destructive thoughts were still very present even when things seemed to have gotten back to normal.

yet samu was not blind, and he noticed that you were acting a bit more distant since last week, since your fight. but he still thought that your problems could be solved by just keeping on pretending like everything was ok. and eventually, things would turn out ok by themselves, right ?

you were laying on his bed, turned on your side as you scrolled on your phone. usually you would have had an arm swung around him, but you didn’t want to take any risk, so you kept your distances. 

« hey, come closer baby. we’ve barely cuddled today » he told you before lazily wrapping his arm around your waist.

feeling nervous, you swallowed the lump in your throat before putting your phone on the nightstand. « i’m going to sleep, samu », you said, stretching your arm to turn off the light.

but he was quicker than you and gently grabbed your arm, careful not to apply any pressure on it. his eyes widened, he had barely seen your wrist but it had been enough to notice that the scars were recent. he put two and two together and looked at you dead in the eyes ; you looked ashamed, and it broke his heart. « when did y- was it because of me ? » he asked, his voice faintly shaking. you pulled away from his hand and held your arm against you, sinking in the pillow. « no, of course not. it’s nothing » you breathed out, looking away to avoid his gaze. but he was quick to make you face him again, with a slight pressure of his fingertips on your red cheeks. « there’s only one thing that i hate more than seeing you in pain. it’s knowing that i caused this pain. let me help you, y/n. please. you deserve to feel better. i’m sorry i didn’t give you as much love as you gave me. and i’m sorry for behaving like an asshole when you needed me. just… fuck, i just love you ».

tears started prickling the corner of your eyes, but he saw you trying to hold them back. with the most gentle look in his eyes, he proposed to turn off the light if it made you feel better. and you nodded ; you knew that you’d eventually had to have a face-to-face conversation with him. it was the only way to get better. but right now you just wanted to be held without thinking about what he’d see. or wouldn’t see.

so he turned off the light and let yourself get comfortable in bed before wrapping you in his embrace once again. his soft breath against your neck was obviously not enough to make all your pain magically go away, but it let you know that he had your back. and it was all that mattered.

⇀ 𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐮

« i don’t want to do this anymore, y/n ! » tendou had yelled, making this sentence the peak of your argument. six words, and they were on replay in your minds since four days. you couldn’t believe that almost two years of relationship had ended so abruptly. but you had to face the truth : tendou had enough of you. and obviously you linked that to the turbulent start of your relationship. you knew it hadn’t been easy for him to deal with your self harm when you had just started dating. yet he had managed to make you feel so much better that you had been sober for about a year, all thanks to him. but maybe you hadn’t been grateful enough ? maybe that was why he had decided to end things now ?

the only thing you knew for sure was that he was gone, and you felt like you had lost your anchor.

you had spent the weekend in your dorm, and it had been a painful weekend. so painful that you did not get out of bed on monday morning ; it was just too much to handle. deep down you knew that you were not handling your problems the right way… and escaping reality was not viable.

but little did you know that tendou wanted nothing more than to see you again in the hallways and finally have a heart-to-heart conversation with you. and when he didn’t see you in class, he started to freak out. he knew how it was to feel alone and rejected ; and he started to fear that he had caused you to feel exactly that. so he did not follow his friends to the cafeteria at lunch and headed to your dorm instead, hoping that you’d open the door.

and you did. thank god you did. but panic started bubbling in his chest when his eyes laid on your face.

« alright, come here » he told you with a forced smile before pulling you in his embrace. truthfully, he didn’t feel like smiling, but he knew that the last thing you needed was to think you made him feel bad. when he was with you, his main goal was to cheer you up, he’d deal with himself later. « angel… did you do it again ? » he asked, his tone being the furthest thing from judgmental. you muttered a quiet apology, your face buried in his white uniform jacket. but something lingered on your mind. angel ? it sounded right, but you knew it wasn’t. not anymore. « don’t apologize ! the only person you owe an apology to is yourself » he whispered against your ear. slowly, he put his hands on your waist before bringing you to your bed where he sat right next to you, still refusing to take his hands off of your body.

 « tendou, you don’t have to do this… » you muttered, knowing that you weren’t supposed to be this close anymore. « i’m your ex, you don’t owe me anything ».

he immediately looked down to meet your eyes, an eyebrow raised in confusion. « your ex ? wh- you think i broke up with you ? y/n, when i said that i didn’t want to do this anymore, i was talking about fighting with you ! i’m sorry, i should have texted you these last few days, but i thought you wouldn’t want to talk to me »

a tear rolled down your cheek. tendou’s words sounded like heaven right now. maybe you weren’t alone after all ?

« now, do you need me to get you something ? band-aids ? anything ? » he asked, caressing your hair with his right hand. you nodded your head no and kept your head buried in his neck, like you were waiting for his scent to go to your head. « i know you’ve been through a lot, and i’m proud of you no matter what. but, you know… even though i have enough love for the both of us, i’d really want you to have enough love for yourself » he said and placed a kiss on top of your head, waiting for you to say something. but he sensed that you were not ready yet. and he was ok with that, the last thing he wanted to do was to pressure you. it was going to be a long path, but you had already done it, and you were going to do it again. and he’d be there the whole time.

ok so if you’ve read until there it probably means that you needed comfort (i hope i have given you enough) : so if you are in this situation yourself, PLEASE don’t be afraid to ask for help, you can and you will get better. i’m rooting for you like saeko roots for karasuno ❤️️

@toworuu (didn’t forget about you ^^)

[personasintro]

universe | myg drabble

❥𝒔𝒚𝒏𝒐𝒑𝒔𝒊𝒔; you're his whole universe, you just don't know it yet – or him

❥𝒈𝒆𝒏𝒓𝒆: stalker au

❥𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔: explicit language, stalking (obviously), yoongi is kinda creep, masturbating (he uses her panties)

❥𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕: 5.3k+

𝒂/𝒏: commissioned by the absolute sweetheart @minyoongail​, thank you bub for being so patient with me (it took me like 2 months I think ?? to write this) I really hope you and everyone else enjoy this story!

𝒎.𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕 | © 𝒑𝒆𝒓𝒔𝒐𝒏𝒂𝒔𝒊𝒏𝒕𝒓𝒐 (𝒏𝒐 𝒓𝒆𝒑𝒐𝒔𝒕𝒔 𝒐𝒓 𝒕𝒓𝒂𝒏𝒔𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔 𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒂𝒍𝒍𝒐𝒘𝒆𝒅)

It was a mere coincidence, something he had never expected to happen or notice during his daylife. But even that word doesn't sound right, not to his ears. If you look up the word itself it says – coincidence is a remarkable concurrence of events or circumstances without apparent causal connection. This must've been something else, not some stupid coindidence and he calls it differently.

He believes it's all the universe's doing and it happened when he needed it the most. The clueless young man with an empty heart, who was just striding through the busy street in Daegu, just when the universe had decided to give him a sign – another chance maybe, as he likes to think – and he couldn't be more intrigued. There's a whole universe inside his mind and he's not ashamed of it.

The first time he saw you, he remembers how you caught his attention immediately despite you blending with the crowd. But there was something different, maybe it was the way you smiled at whoever you were calling with that time. He remembers vividly the grin that had stretched on your beautiful red lips, before you had to end the call because you went to the little coffee shop. On your way out, with a plastic cup of coffee in your hand, it's unfortunate how you hadn't noticed the guy going inside which slowly led to you bumping into him. It wasn't a disaster, no coffee was spilled and except the guy's frown and something he mumbled under his breath, nothing too bad happened. But then he had seen the little frown on your lips and the way your shoulder slumped, running your day. He couldn't take his eyes off you. And he wished to cross the road to fight that egoistic man, who made sure to give you one last glare before he scurried inside the coffee shop.

And that's how his days slowly went by. At the same hour, you'd always visit that coffee shop with the same order every time, apart of that time when you bought a croissant that one time. You weren't there at the weekends, which meant you weren't working and the small coffee shop was on your way to work. It had become your routine, as much as his, watching you across the street hidden by one of the trees. Not even once your eyes drifted his direction. It made it very easy to watch you from Monday to Friday, you being not aware of the attention you got from the man across the street.

But he got bored after two weeks of seeing the same thing, even though you had always been different each day. The same soft and sweet smile that melted his heart was worth waking up earlier to watch you. But he had become eager, curious about you and your life. That's why he had decided to follow you – across the street from the safe distance, so you wouldn't notice him – until you made your way into the building with a few stairs up to it. He didn't recognize the old building at first, that's why he pulled out his phone and through the maps, he found out there's an art studio. There's no way he could've gone inside without anyone questioning his presence there, nor he could've known if you're really there.

He had wished he knew your name, so he could've finally put a name to your beautiful face and features that couldn't seem to get out of his head.

The week after, he had found out – because of course, he was curious and eager to take another step, so he had followed you – that you live just around the corner in one of the apartment buildings. Unfortunately for him, the security system even in those old buildings is hard to get through, impossible even. And he wouldn't have done that, followed you inside. No, he's not crazy. What would he do if he got inside the building? That didn't make any sense.

He had to plan everything – so for the time being – he stepped away and walked away, your building slowly fading away.

But it's okay, he'll soon see you again. That's what he told himself, a tiny smirk making it onto his lips that were hidden behind the mask.

Universe has a funny way to mess around with people. Or it could be pure luck on Yoongi's side, but whatever it is in reality, it makes him beam in mischief. Who could've known that one time he doesn't avoid his only friend, the cards would play in favor for him. Surely, there had been a bit of grumbling which Jung Hoseok – his friend ever since they were kids – just couldn't accept and dragged Yoongi's ass in the nearest club. It's been awhile since he went among people, he's not the type to search for society and encounters with them. He's a lonely wolf, as you could say.

“See, you look cheered up!” his friend cuts off Yoongi's trail of thoughts, his eyes already set on something much more interesting, than his friend's loud voice that tries to be heard through the loud music. “Think of the pussy you can get tonight!”

In other times, Yoongi would've just shrugged and went along with his friend's words because yes, meaningless one night stands have become a part of Yoongi's antisocial life. He's still a man after all, he has his own needs and even though he doesn't search for people's touch, sex usually involves that.

His friend is completely clueless, thinking Yoongi is cheerful because there's a chance he'll get laid tonight with no strings attached, just like Yoongi prefers. He's not the type to date, to love someone and that's why Hoseok's plan of getting Yoongi out of his small apartment to live a little, goes well.

Little does he know that Yoongi could care less about his friend's secret plan or whatever his true intentions are. Because there's you standing just a few meters away from him, completely clueless to Yoongi's existation but he's not mad at you. And he has the urge to laugh at the situation because after all, the universe must be real. It brought you up to him without him even trying, even though he had been wondering what you're doing on your Saturday night.

At first, he didn't know if it's you but then you turned around and laughed at something, probably what one of your friends said and he could see that beautiful smile which unfortunately, couldn't hear because of the music. Ever since then, he's been stealing a few glances at you, failing miserably in hiding his happiness at the sight of you. And when you suddenly grab the attention of one of your friends that's standing next to you, you excuse yourself and make your way through the crowd.

Without explaining himself, he knows what to do and his legs move on their own as he leaves his friend shouting his name in complete confusion, but Yoongi doesn't turn around. His eyes are solely set upon you and the thought that he can't get you out of his sight. Now it's his chance.

He watches you going inside the ladies' restroom, stopping just around the corner not to look creepy. He's not. He's not a creep, he would never enter ladies' restroom because then what? How would he explain what he's doing there? There's a pinch of annoyance at your friends and how they let you go all alone. Don't they know it's dangerous for you to go alone? Especially in the clubs full of horny men. And the little black dress that you're wearing isn't helping at all. You're showing too much skin, you're drawing too much attention at yourself and he doesn't like that. He wants you all to himself.

But despite him criticizing your friends and their complete ignorance of your safety, it's better this way. He's here, he wouldn't let anything happen to you and it all makes it better to go with his plan. Now is his chance to have your eyes on him, to finally meet you.

When the restroom's door are being pushed open, his breath gets caught in his throat as he notices you delicately brushing your hands against the black fabric, trying to flatten the creases that are invisible to his eyes. Now is his chance. He uses your lack of attention, eyes focused downwards and makes his way towards you. This has to work. From what he could've seen during a few weeks of watching you, you managed to stumble and bump into a few people on your way to work. It always looked like you're rushing, probably stressed from whatever was waiting for you in that old creepy building that you work at. No matter how many times has that happened, you've always apologized and looked extremely sorry. And now, he's going to use that to his advantage. Well, his plan had been different and he wanted to do this in your favorite coffee shop, that you're visiting every morning during the week. But now that he has you so close to him, he can't wait any longer.

It happens quickly. Your lack of attention is a huge help, and Yoongi is prepared for the impact of your body colliding against his, which can't be hardly told about you. A soft gasp leaves your lips, but the impact isn't strong like Yoongi hoped it would be. Your shoulders bump into each other, but it's nothing painful and mindless 'sorry' leaves your mouth. Yoongi's plan is crashing down like a house of cards, watching you not even glancing at him as you make your way through the crowd again. His features automatically twist into a huge scowl, not appreciating your ignorance.

He's been watching over you this whole time, and this is how you repay him? Ignoring him and barely seeing the person you bump into? Okay, he had his own share with that but still – he expected something different to happen and it's causing his blood to boil. You're nowhere in sight, completely blending with people dancing on the floor. He can't feel his jaw hurting from how hard he's clenching it. Oh, how he wishes he could punish you. He'd have you on your knees begging him for forgiveness before you could utter a single word.

You're playing with him. You're lucky enough he likes the chase and games, even though he's not a patient person.

As he's getting back to Hoseok, his sharp eyes notice his friend is not alone and has a company right next to him. Getting nearer, the two guys exchange a friendly hug as the guy Yoongi doesn't know grins at Hoseok.

“Taehyung–ah!” Hoseok yells after the guy that turns around with a boxy grin, not noticing Yoongi's stare in the back. “Don't forget to text me!” Hoseok laughs, seeing the guy nod as he gives him a thumbs up before he walks away.

Yoongi's eyes don't leave Taehyung's figure, wondering who he is since he has never seen him before. He shouldn't be so surprised, Hoseok has many friends. Sometimes, he's wondering why Hoseok is still hanging out with himi, when he's the least social person out of all Hoseok's friends.

Once again, the universe proves to be on Yoongi's side and he can't help but grin, as he watches Hoseok's friend nearing the group of people, among them is you. Although, he really wants to punch the guy's face for touching the small of your back, especially when you smile at him and take the drink from his hands. The drink he failed to notice before.

What was the guy's name? Taehyung.

Surprise, surprise. The chase has only begun and he's already winning.

“Yah! Where did you go?” Hoseok's loud voice cuts him off, frowning at his friend that slowly looks at him.

Grinning, he licks his lips before he takes a shot of Hoseok's vodka. “Bathroom.” he says simply, smirking as he looks back at you.

For now, he'll leave you alone but still makes sure to glance at you every now and then. Making sure you're safe, of course.

And when Yoongi is finally in his small apartment, laying in his bed with phone clutched in his grasp, he has only one intention. Finding you isn't hard, Hoseok's facebook friends are public so it makes it easy to find your friend guy Taehyung. Unfortunately, his friends are private so it leaves him with another option. He browses every available photo of him, checking everyone who liked his photos while opening every profile. The guy's photos are somehow artistic, he's not a complete loser as Yoongi thought. Whenever he sees Taehyung's face on the screen of his phone, all he can think about is his hand on your back. Taking a deep breath, he continues in browsing through Taehyung's liked pictures until he gets what he wanted all along.

You.

And your name.

The sweet melody of pop music resounds through the walls of your modesty apartment, but even the littlest space in it doesn't hold you back from swaying your hips. Humming the tune, you put the last plate back to the kitchen cabinet as a soft knock meets the wood of your front door. You almost flinch back, wondering who the hell is knocking on your door in the evening when you're not expecting anyone. Turning off the music with your phone, you make your way towards the front door to see who's standing behind it.

When you open it, you don't expect to see a complete stranger who gives you a nervous grin as soon as your eyes meet. One thing you know, you've never seen him before and you wonder if he by any mistake mistook your door with someone else's. He's wearing all black, looking tough on the outside but his face is the exact opposite. He looks quite comfortable wearing a large hoodie and black sweatpants, and it's funny how your outfits almost match. Although, your one isn't matched and doesn't look half as good as his does. You're wearing one of the ugliest sweatpants you own because unfortunately, your washing machine broke down last week and the repairman is able to repair it in a few days. For now, you're stuck with unwashed clothes that could use a good washing but there's nothing you can do. You'll wait, you've enough clothes to wear – at least you hope.

“Hey,” he says, completely cutting you off from your little crisis of your broken washing machine. His voice is deep, yet holds a soft tone that makes him sound friendly and causes you to automatically smile.

“Hey,” you say back, repeating his words as you hug yourself with your arms. There's a curiosity in your eyes, the one he notices immediately and opens his mouth.

“Oh, I'm sorry you're probably wondering what am I doing here,” he chuckles, shaking his head at his absurdity that makes you grin in amusement. “I'm your new neighbor, I just moved in today… I was wondering if you have tomato sauce to borrow?”

Only now you notice the white slippers that he's wearing, confirming his words that in fact, he really is your new neighbor. The building is big enough for you not to know every single neighbor, but something tells you you won't forget this one.

His sharp eyes are so captivating, staring right into your soul as you can't help but gawk at your new neighbor. The little twitch of his lips shake you out of your short daze, blush spreading across your cheeks as you rub your forearms.

“Yeah, sure. Let me check it out,” you manage to say, tone light and friendly, trying to hide the fact that you seemed to be particularly interested in your neighbor. He looks young, probably your age – not that this is important. He's just a neighbor, right? “Uhh, come in.” you tell him, feeling like a douche if you'd just leave him in the hallway.

He opens his mouth slightly, but smiles at you when you open the door to give him enough space to come in. You let him close it, which he does gently as if he was scared to break them. It makes you grin, a grin that's hidden as soon as you turn around and tell him to follow you. Your apartment isn't big and the walk to your kitchen doesn't take long (literally five seconds) and you're not aware of your neighbor's curious eyes, and particular curiosity about the three pieces of art that are covered with sheer fabric, leaned against the wall.

“Are you an artist?” Your neighbor asks, voice thick with curiosity which causes you to turn around and follow his line of vision.

“Ah,” you gasp out, “No. Do I look like an artist?” you grin, causing him to do the same as his eyes dance with amusement.

“I don't know,” he muses, pursing his lips. “But you're probably interested in art.” he says, head nodding towards the art that's been sitting there for a few days now.

It's not like you regret letting him in, but you should've considered the fact that your place is a mess. You just hope he's not judging you, or thinks you're an alcoholic as you remember there's a wine bottle on your coffee table. You were about to drink it after you were done with cleaning the dishes. It was a long day…

To occupy your ridiculous worries (because he probably doesn't care what your place looks like), you do what he came here for and that is, to find a tomato sauce which you're not sure if you even have.

“You could say so,” you hum, rummaging through the pasta and different kinds of cans. “My friend is an artist, I'm just helping him to sell some of his paintings.”

He hums in response, his frown hidden from you as you're turned with your back to him.

“Are those for sale?” he asks, surprised when you turn around abruptly as sudden shine overtakes your features.

“Yes,” you answer, “Are you interested?”

“Hmm, maybe,” he hums, “Mind if I take a look?” he asks, your head already nodding.

“Of course, go ahead,” you tell him, seeing him walk towards the art while you stand on your tiptoes and pull out one of the cans. “Got it.” you mumble to yourself, surprised that yes, you've a tomato sauce which you never really use.

You walk to your neighbor, his brows pinched together as he stares at a piece of art. “This one's my favorite.” you comment, holding the can in your hands as he glances at you.

“It's pretty,” he replies, cocking his head to the side as he admires the art that portrays a galaxy. It's beautiful, the purple and turquoise splashes that look like stars create a perfect detail. “How much is it?”

“You--are you--I need to talk to my friend but I'm sure we could work something out.” you grin, not hiding your enthusiasm which your neighbor finds cute as he grins at you. He shows you a gummy smile that makes you just stare at him in complete awe, before you cough.

“Thanks, it'd be nice to have something that'll make the place more cozy. It looks like a complete disaster right now.” he jokes, causing you to giggle as you nod. You feel him.

“Sure,” you smile, staring at him for a moment as realization hits your face. “Oh, here. Found it.” you outstretch your arm to give him the tomato sauce he came here for.

It seems like realization hits his face as well, his mouth leaving a soft 'oh' as he takes it with a grateful smile. “Thank you, you're a lifesaver.”

You laugh at that, finding him cute how he said it. “It's just tomato sauce. What are you cooking?”

“Spaghetti,” he answers, “Well, thanks for this. I appreciate it.” he says as you both start walking towards the front door.

He opens the door, one hand clutching the doorknob while the other holds the can, before he turns to you. “I'm living just down the hall, number 017.” he informs you, your brows furrowing in confusion, wondering why he's telling you that.

Even though you make a mental note to remember this information. What? It's good to know.

“For the art?” he reminds you, cocking a brow at you. “You can just knock anytime, when you'll know the price.” he smiles, your cheeks burning with embarrassment.

“Oh, yeah, of course.” you nod, “I'll let you know.”

He smiles, thanking you for the tomato sauce (even assuring you that he'll buy you a new one tomorrow but you quickly decline that, telling him you aren't using it) as he steps out of your apartment and starts to back away, still facing you as you're grinning.

“I'm Y/N,” you call out to him, mentally slapping yourself for sounding so desperate. Your nerves ease up as he gives you a smile, the shitty lightening in the hallway shining against his black hair. “What's your name, new neighbor?”

He chuckles at your nickname, his tongue licking his bottom lip as your heart bursts with sparkles. How can someone be so cute, hot and handsome? You're completely swept away by him.

And you feel like a little kid, ears perked up and eyes wide as you almost stand on your tiptoes, trying to hear his answer. However, you don't realize it because you're too focused on him.

“Yoongi, my name's Yoongi.”

He can't believe it.

He can't believe how easy it was to get closer to you. Getting an apartment, rented apartment, was even easier and the fact you both live on the same floor, had to be another sign from the universe.

It just had to be. Right?

Yoongi is in the middle of cutting an onion when he hears a soft knock echoing around the walls of his quiet apartment. He'd usually put some music on, but his mind seems to be elsewhere. He's not interested in music like he used to be, all he can think about is you.

Wiping his hands with a dishcloth, he stumbles over some boxes that have been laying there for three days (ever since he moved in) before he gets to the front door. Just as he's gripping the doorknob, there's another knock resounding but it's louder this time. He snatches the door open, meeting you jumping in surprise as your eyes widen.

Oh, sweet love. You look so cute.

Even though you're wearing the same pair of sweatpants he saw you while borrowing a tomato sauce from you. A tomato sauce he never really needed, he just wanted an excuse to see you and funnily enough, tomato sauce was the first thing that crossed his mind.

Nothing matters because you're absolutely breathtaking.

“Hi,” you breathe out, chuckling trying to mask that soft pink shade your cheeks seem to have. “I'm sorry for interrupting you.” you add.

“Not at all,” he disagrees, slightly shaking his head. “How can I help you?” he smiles, heart wavering because he can't believe you just knocked on his door.

And this time he didn't have to come to you. You came to him.

“Well, I was just wondering if you're still interested in one of those paintings. I talked to my friend and he said he'll give you a little discount since you're my neighbor,”

Bullshit, your friend is probably glad someone wants to buy his painting. It's a typical move from you, to get him to buy it just because you said the discount word. But he can't blame you, well it's you. That's enough for him not to let common sense take a place in his mind. Plus, those paintings are like a barrier in your own little home.

“I mean… you totally don't have to buy it if you're not interested anymore.” you add, causing the corner of his mouth twitch. He's holding back a smile as he shakes his head.

“No, I'm totally interested,” In you, not in the painting. “You wanna come in?”

The sudden invite surprises you, but you don't hesitate as you nod before he opens the door further for you to come in.

“Thank you.” you tell him softly, looking around curiously as you see the mess in there.

There are a bunch of boxes, still unpacked and filling up the whole place but you can relate. Your place used to be such a mess too when you first moved in.

“Sorry about the mess, I still haven't unpacked most of my stuff,” he says, trailing behind you as you notice a small beige couch with a bunch of clothes draped all over it. “I need to wash my clothes.” he grins, the shade of red coating his cute pale cheeks as you give him a smile.

“Don't worry about it, my bedroom looks just the same. My washing machine broke down a few days ago and the repairman can't come to fix it this week, so I'm stuck wearing the same old, dirty and probably smelly clothes.”

That would explain you wearing the same dirty sweatpants, he thinks but that doesn't say out loud because like he said, you're beautiful no matter what.

“You don't smell,” he blurts out, causing you to raise your brows in surprise but an appreciative smile tugs onto your lips.

“That's good to know.” you chuckle, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

Wait, are you becoming shy?

“But I could help, if you want...” he adds, interest lacing over your features as you look at him curiously. “With your clothes. I could wash them for you.”

“Oh, no. I've loads of it and I don't want to be a burden, I'm sure you've a lot of work with your own stuff.” you reject, waving your hand as if it's not a big deal but the clothes that are tossed around your whole bedroom are driving you crazy.

Still, your insides shiver with his kindness.

“You're no burden, I swear. At least I would repay you for that tomato sauce. Let me do this for you, my washing machine works just fine. You could go grab your stuff and bring it here, I'll wash it for you right now and meanwhile, we could talk about that painting.”

Shit, he's so good at persuading.

He sees the guilt and uncertainty on your face, but the way you're biting your lower lip he knows you're thinking of it. He's patient with you, offering you one of his soft smiles that you caught onto right away and he knows he's got you.

“Are you sure?” you ask unsurely, nibbling on your bottom lip some more which fuck, drives him insane.

He wishes he could bite into it, feeling your soft and plump lips that are bare with no lipstick on it, but god, are they beautiful. The most beautiful lips he has ever seen.

“Hundred percent.” he says, giving you another smile which this time, you mimic before a set of sentences of gratitude leaves out of your mouth.

“Thank you, Yoongi. You saved my life.” Oh God, how amazing his name sounds rolling out of your tongue.

He could listen to you saying it every day. Oh, how he wishes to hear you saying other stuff too, but no… he has to be patient.

“Don't mention it,” he smiles, “Thank you for the painting. I'll make sure to hang it up somewhere nice where everyone can see it.”

Bullshit. He never invites anyone to his home.

“You do that, maybe I'll stop by to admire it.” Did you just invite yourself? Oh my god, he can feel his heart jumping out of his chest.

“Feel free to do that anytime.” he smirks, giving you a nice view of his wink that he swears makes you gulp as you clutch your laundry basket with fresh and clean clothes in it.

You bid goodbye to him, in the form of a sweet smile and quick but nice wave of your free hand, before he painfully does the same and closes his front door. Three hours of constant talking was not enough for him. He wishes he could talk to you some more, to get to know you even more. Although, he did learn some new things about you. Things he couldn't find on the internet, or by simply watching you from the distance. For example, your parents live far away and you're their only child. They weren't too happy about you moving to a big city but they're supportive nevertheless. You don't share your daily struggles with them, like the problem with your washing machine for example, because according to your words, they would be too worried and think you can't handle and take care of yourself.

Well, one thing is sure. They don't have to worry about that too much. You've got him. He'll take care of you and help you with anything you'll need. For now, he's just your neighbor but as he pulls out his phone and sees a friend request from you, Yoongi knows he's winning.

Pulling out peach colored panties out of his pocket, the same ones he sneakily hid inside of his pants before you could notice. Plopping onto the couch, on the same spot you were sitting on just a few minutes ago, he swears he can still feel your warmth and scent lingering on the cheap furniture. He unzips his pants, already pulling out his hardening cock as he takes a sniff of your used panties. They're cotton, not special and too sexy but he rolls his eyes back at the scent of you. Fuck, you smell so amazing. He wishes he could taste you on his tongue, pleasure you until you're screaming his name and cumming thanks to him repeatedly. He has never gotten this hard so quick, his erected length is gripped by his veiny and big hand as he's already pumping himself. Imagining how you'd sound if he pounds into you, making sure every one of neighbors hears your moan, so they know you're his. He puts the piece of fabric inside of his mouth, the exact spot where your pussy was rubbing the whole day, wetting it with his saliva as he sucks the fabric. He's close, so close but it's not enough. Wrapping his cock around your panties, his saliva mixed with your juices dried on it, he starts thrusting into his hand. Body hot and breath raged, he feels his muscles tense as your name falls out of his mouth every few seconds. Soon enough, he's cumming inside your panties, his seed leaking through the fabric and staining his hand but he doesn't care.

It was worth it.

“When did you fall in love with me?”

Your soft voice carries through the bedroom, your legs laced with Yoongi's as he keeps caressing your exposed back. He can feel your perked nipples brushing against the side of his chest, his cum mixed with your own staining the sheets but none of you truly care.

“When I first saw you.” he answers, kissing you into your hair as you giggle, finding his answer tactical and funny.

“Oh, come on,” you scoff with a laugh, the beautiful melody of it causing him to smile. “We didn't even know each other that well.” you argue, trailing some patterns onto his chest.

“It doesn't matter, I loved you way before that.” he says and you just giggle, trailing a heart on his naked skin.

You don't pressure him into answering differently, even though you know he's just bluffing because you don't believe in love at first sight. You've to know that person before you can love them with all their flaws and everything that comes with it.

“I love you.” you tell him quietly, kissing his chest while you can feel and hear his heartbeat that mimics yours.

“I love you too,” he says immediately, “You've no idea.”

You really don't.

[rose2jam]

Why It Was Practically Inevitable That Severus Snape Would Join A Cult, an essay by Rose Jam

So, let’s talk about Cults. Disclaimer: This is just information I’ve gathered over the years from my personal fascination with religious cults.  I’m in no way an expert or a psychologist or whatever.  This is just my personal understanding from the research I’ve done.

A cult is started when a wildly charismatic Leader feels like they have a purpose, a higher calling, or a mission to be fulfilled (or they could also just be an egomaniac). Maybe they really do feel like what makes them special comes directly from a higher power, be that God, or the Heir of Slytherin, but either way, this person has a pathological need to be worshiped, and they need followers in order to do that.  

So, how does one obtain Followers easily? By finding the misunderstood misfits of society, and promising them something.  The people who feel like no one else understands them, or their ideologies.  But this Leader?  This Leader GETS IT, MAN! The Leader understands them perfectly, vindicates them, and makes them promises along the way.  Like, if they stick with the Leader, then not only will they finally be understood, but they themselves will also be revered.  That they will rise above all of the others who have put them down for so long, and will come out on top as a superior being.  

Any of this sounding familiar?

Charles Manson preyed on young people in the middle of the hippie movement, mostly women, who were feeling lost, lonely, and in need of guidance, or in terms of the men he recruited, seeking power over others.  Not all of these people were poor or helpless; some of them came from middle class, or even rich homes and families.  Yes, some of them came from broken homes, but all of them felt “broken” themselves, in some way. So Manson used their desires to have a family to draw them in.  He then used LSD and other drugs to keep them under his control, and he created a manipulative environment where the members of his “family” felt they could never leave him, and if they didn’t follow his commands, something horrible would happen to them.  I’m not going to go into full detail on the Manson Family Murders, but if you’re personally interested, check out the Podcast “Cults” on Spotify.

So back to basics, this Leader draws in Followers with flowery promises of community, power, family, or whatever.  But once the Leader has that following, the terror will begin.  Cult Leaders are usually master manipulators, and have completely brainwashed their followers into believing the “us vs them” mentality, that the outside world is evil, that the outside world will only harm them, that the outside world would never understand what they’re doing on the inside.  And that the Leader is the only one who knows the truth, so they better stick with him.  Or maybe the Leader has gaslit his followers so completely, that they become dependent on him for everything, to the point where they don’t know how they would possibly function without the Leader.  Or, the Leader has created an environment that’s so hostile, that Followers are too afraid of what might happen to them if they tried to leave, or didn’t do what the Leader commanded.  Typically, it’s a combination of all of the above.  Destructive cults will either hurt others outside of their circle (The Manson Family, Sect of Nacozari), harm themselves (Heaven’s Gate, The Ant Hill Kids), or both (The People’s Temple, Aum Sinrikyo).  

Now that I’ve laid this foundation, I’m going to tell you why it was practically inevitable that Severus Snape would join a cult.

Snape’s childhood ultimately laid the foundation for the mental state he would be in when he decided to join the Death Eaters.  He grew up in an abusive household, where his father, the muggle, had his magical wife so thoroughly whipped, that she couldn’t (or chose not to) use magic to defend herself, or her son (1).  Eileen had obviously told Severus about magic, about Hogwarts, about what a wonderful place it was, and what a wonderful gift magic could be.  Severus also watched as Tobias beat the magic out of her.  (I know it’s debated whether Tobias actually physically abused his family, but he certainly verbally/mentally/emotionally abused them, so the term “beat” could be used figuratively as well).  I don’t think it’s unreasonable to believe that Severus developed an extreme hatred of muggles with “burn the witch” mentalities from a very young age because of this.

Enter Lily, perhaps the only other magical person in his life besides his mother up to this point. He sees her using magic out in the open, perhaps recklessly, for fun, and he sees an opportunity to make a friend (and, admittedly, to be smarter than someone about something for a while). He was so eager to tell her all about magic, because getting to learn magic, and go to Hogwarts, has possibly been the only thing keeping him going in his young life.  And now he’s made a friend, a real friend who doesn’t think he’s weird because he’s magical.  Unlike Petunia, yet another muggle who makes fun of him for being weird (2). And Lily actually seems to like him back.  For a kid who probably hasn’t received a lot of affection in his life, this is monumental.  This friendship is everything.  Why wouldn’t he love her?

So the time finally comes to go to Hogwarts.  Severus gets to escape his abusive household, and finally has an opportunity to embrace magic for the first time in his life.  But almost immediately, he’s met with a hic-up.  Specifically, James Potter and Sirius Black.  So Severus is no longer facing abuse exclusively from muggles who think he’s weird, but now he’s also getting it from other magical people who think he’s weird (3).  And this started on the fucking TRAIN before he even GOT to Hogwarts. You can’t tell me that wouldn’t sour a kids dream right off the fucking bat.  And then, when he finally gets there, he’s separated from his only friend, by being sorted into different houses (4).  What a way for a life-long dream to be thoroughly dashed in less than 24 hours.

Let’s look at Snape’s Hogwarts experience.  He’s a good student, and he pours himself into learning as much magic as possible, and at being the best he can possibly be, probably motivated by a desire to be better than what his Father thinks possible.  During this time, he is regularly bullied and abused by the Marauders. Sometime before his 5th year, the Incident at the Shrieking Shack took place.  It definitely sucks to have been so thoroughly fucking duped, and put into a life-threatening situation involving a goddamn werewolf (5).  But perhaps even worse than that, the salt in the wound, was that no one fucking did anything about it (6).  He saw Sirius and James and Remus get out of that situation without facing any sort of proper punishment (as in, they all still stayed at the school as opposed to being expelled like they DEFINITELY SHOULD HAVE BEEN (At least Sirius should have been)). Dumbledore was looking out for the Marauders, but no one was looking out for Severus.  On top of that, Severus isn’t allowed to TELL anyone about it, not even Lily.  So, he goes through what was possibly one of the most traumatic experiences of his life, and he can’t even tell anyone that it happened.

So, what sort of support system does Severus have during all this?  He has Lily, sure (who literally told him he should be GRATEFUL to James, one of his abusers).  But, what he really has, is Slytherin House (7). I’ll say it plainly: Severus was sorted into a house that was already full of existing cult members.  McGonagall says in Sorcerer’s Stone that “Your house will be like your family” (she at least says it in the movies, I’m too lazy to get up and reference my books rn lol).  So, Severus’ family, his support system, for 10 months out of every year, is a house that is already full to the brim with pureblood elitists with prejudiced ideals, who would absolutely vindicate Severus in his dislike for muggles.  As a kid first getting sorted into the house, it’s obviously not unreasonable to become friends with the people you’re literally living with.  His dorm mates became his family.  So, when his dorm mates started to become Death Eaters… This is headcanon, I fully admit, but like, fuck, Severus didn’t have a lot of friends, and was probably already drifting apart from Lily.  Do you really think he was going to tell the people he had to live with every single day, not to mention the only people that had been supporting him for years, to go fuck themselves for using Dark Magic?  Especially when he was probably feeling like he was on the verge of thinking that their rhetoric made some sense?

On to Snape’s Worst Memory (8).  At this point, he’s spent 5 years in Slytherin House, with fellow students who casually throw around the M word.  He gets attacked by James and Sirius, he’s practically defenseless, and then the girl who he’d considered his closest friend for so long… has to force herself not to smile when he’s thrown upside down and exposed to everyone on the grounds.  Sure, she was trying to defend him at first, but she also fucking nearly smiled at his humiliation, his pain, his abuse.  So he hurls the one word that he knows is going to cut the deepest, that will hopefully hurt her as badly as she has hurt him. And it works.

Severus had been beaten down his entire life.  By Muggles and Magic Folk alike.  And finally, he’s betrayed by Lily, his last lifeline to the light.  He betrayed her as well, of course.  But he did try to show remorse.  And she doesn’t forgive him (9), which was her prerogative, of course.  

So.  Who does he have left?

I’ve placed little (numbers) throughout my writing here.  Each of those numbers denote the specific events that led Severus to becoming an angry young man, who hates muggles, hates (some) magic folk, and resulted in him feeling weak, helpless, and desperate.  For what?  For power, for a family, for a community.  For a world where he is no longer the weird one.  For a world where he’s respected, strong.  For the world he thought he was going to be a part of, when he arrived at Hogwarts in his first year.

And it just so happens that this is the exact world that Voldemort is (allegedly) trying to create.

Severus Snape was angry, and vulnerable, and as such, he was practically the poster child for the type of person who would be susceptible to falling for a cult.  Maybe he was recruited by his friends in Slytherin House.  Maybe he was recruited directly.  Either way, charismatic Tom Riddle came along, understood how he felt, where he was coming from, told him he deserved better, and offered him all of the things he never had in his life.  And being at rock bottom, being the lowest of the low, to Severus it must have seemed like a miracle of an opportunity, or perhaps, like the only chance he had left.

Now, let me be extremely clear; everything I’ve written is not trying to EXCUSE Severus Snape for his actions.  There is always a point where personal responsibility must come into play.  Except for children born into cults or victims of kidnapping, nearly every person who has ever joined a cult has made the personal decision to join it. I’m just trying to express how unbelievably easy it is, for a Cult Leader to find people with damaged lives and low self-worth, to suck them in with promises of a fulfilling life and grandeur, and for those people to be easily swept up and brainwashed into believing that what they are doing is right.  (Or that what they are doing is required, because the alternative is more horrifying.)  

The type of people who joined the Death Eaters are the same type of people who joined Heaven’s Gate, or The People’s Temple, or yes, The Manson Family.  Now, I’m just going to say, from my own personal point of view, I do not vilify anyone who’s ever joined a destructive cult.  On the contrary, I feel sorry for them.  Because most people who join a cult, don’t necessarily do it signing up for the… end result of what happened to them.  Some of them totally do, like Heaven’s Gate. Most of them knew that the end result was going to be the “evacuation of their earthly vessel”.  But the people who joined the Manson Family, for instance, did not initially join it KNOWING how it was going to end.  They were part of the family long before Manson even came up with Helter Skelter, and by the time the Tate-LaBianca Murders took place, they were already too far gone to go against it.

I highly recommend anyone who’s interested in a humanizing view of former cult members, to read the essay “Leslie Van Houten: A Friendship” by John Waters. https://www.huffpost.com/entry/leslie-van-houten-a-frien_b_246953

Or, at the very least, listen to this 7 minute NPR interview with John Waters about the essay https://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=111585116

It’s the story of how notorious film maker John Waters, became friends with former Manson Girl, Leslie Van Houten, and about how she broke away from the cult after her conviction, how she’s spent the last 51 years of her life recovering from the psychotic influence of a maniac who’d promised her the world, and how even though she was convicted to life WITH a possibility of parole, it’s never been granted to her, despite the fact that she has done literally everything possible to try and atone for her crimes.

Maybe I’m just a bleeding heart.  I’m pretty much the only person I know who feels sorry for Leslie Van Houten and other cult members who were brainwashed, abused, and manipulated into doing a lot of the horrible things they’ve done.  But there are people in the world, who have committed FAR more heinous crimes than the Manson Family murders, and who are far less repentant than Leslie, but because those crimes weren’t as notorious, they get to walk free.

Addendum: When I first posted this, I had a few people point out to me that they had always associated Voldemort and the Death Eaters with Hitler and Nazi Germany.  This is a perfectly fair point, but one that I personally don’t jive with, and the reason is simply the numbers.   There were literally millions of people in the Nazi party during WW2.   Death Eaters don’t even reach triple digits, as far as I’m aware.  As I hinted at in this essay, I consider Voldemort and the Death Eaters to be MUCH closer to Charles Manson and the Manson Family.  The Manson Family 100% had Nazi ideology, of course. "Helter Skelter” was Charles Manson’s prediction that there was going to be a massive race war; one that the Whites were going to lose, and that he and his Pure White family would emerge from it in order to rule over the remaining Blacks.  Kinda... sounds like a Death Eater thing, huh?

Sorry.  Back to Snape.  There is a lot we don’t know about Severus’ actual time as a Death Eater. I think it can be reasonably assumed he’s never actually killed anyone before Dumbledore (In Prince’s Tale, Severus questions if his soul would be safe from killing Dumbledore, and Dumbledore implies that his soul would not be damaged by helping an old man avoid pain and humiliation.  This leads me to believe that Severus never committed any soul-damaging murders before this).  Beyond being a sneaky spy and delivering the prophecy to Voldemort, his time as a Death Eater is all up for conjecture.  

Severus does make one important deviation from the typical cult member mold, however.  In the end, he manages to break away from the cult.  The scales fall from his eyes.  In a figurative sense, the LSD has worn off.  What made him sober up, was the threat to his last lifeline to the light. The one good fucking thing he’d ever had in his miserable life.  He was brought back by genuine love.  Ya know, the ENTIRE MESSAGE OF THE HP SERIES. And not only did he leave the cult, but he then spent the rest of his life actively attempting to destroy it, and atone for the mistakes he’s made, in an effort to bring back the world he’d been excited for, as an 11-year-old kid, so full of hope.

[astranva]

Locked Out

Word Count: 1.6k

Warning: Few swear words.

Category: Angst to fluff.

Prompt: “Stop running from me.” 

Summary: Communication is key, but you locked Harry out.

let me know what you think, anon! hope you like this🤍

// masterlist // 

..

When you ask couples of their best period, they would tell you that it’s the “honeymoon phase” of their relationships.

They’d swear up and down on the cute gestures their partner did, giving you a list of all the fuzzy emotions they felt during that very time, how everything left a lingering sweet taste that they longed for.

Some would say that their honeymoon phase wasn’t just that, a phase, but it was a belief that both partners could practice so it would linger and embed itself into their relationship with no signs of decay from the passing years.

These are the same people who would go on and on about how it was communication that kept all these “sparks alive” and how important confrontation was; how being with someone meant that you unravel yourself to them.

Harry knew that seeking perfection was pointless because nobody would ever reach that, not him, not his closest friend, and not you.

It was why he accepted how you were a closed-off person when you began seeing each other; you weren’t one to open up and spill out your emotions and deepest thoughts that were anything but the happy aura you had around you at all times.

He accepted you.

It was acceptance that built the 10-month relationship.

You were there for Harry whenever he needed you, during the bad and good; the stress of writing a new record, the stress of how the world saw him, the stress of wanting to reach a perfection he knew didn’t exist.

You held him at night as he was naked in more ways than lack of clothing would be. It was when he was vulnerable and felt small that your heart clenched, feeling helpless even though you were the first person he sought after good news or an uneasy day.

It was you who held him as he cried. It was you who assured him when the industry made him feel like he wasn’t good enough. It was you who cursed at the world when it gave him shit for his self-exploration and self-love that you praised him for.

It was you.

But it was never him.

It wasn’t because Harry didn’t care nor didn’t put effort at helping you feel at ease; it was because you had denied him of that privilege.

You fought your demons on your own to a point where you tried convincing everyone around you that you didn’t have any before shifting the conversation so that their needs and state were put before your own.

Besides crying that one time as the both of you watched Marley & Me, Harry had never seen you cry, although he heard you a few times.

It happened one time, 3 months into your relationship. He was surprising you at your office with lunch, smiling and greeting your colleagues whom he had seen a few times before he reached your office, putting a finger to his lips as to hush your assistant with a smile before he quietly opened the door to your office.

Your chair was turned towards the window, and if Harry was any louder, he could’ve missed the quiet sound of your sobs.

“Lovie?”

And he heard you gasp and saw your arms moving furiously before you turned, avoiding eye contact as you took a gulp of the glass of water on your desk.

“What’s wrong?”

He was gentle, he knew he was. So why did you tell him that you were “just a little tired”?

And then it happened again at a party Jeff was hosting.

He noticed that one minute you were beside him as he talked to his friends, the next you weren’t.

The music wasn’t loud, but it wasn’t quiet enough to make you hear your phone. He had searched for you everywhere before finally trying to check if you were at the restroom.

He knocked, “Y/N?”

His ear was pressed against the door and it was why he heard the sniffle before he heard your voice, “I’ll be out in a minute!” Your voice broke at the end.

“Are you okay, Lovie? Do you want me to come in there?”

“No, H. I’m fine.”

I’m fine.

Two words Harry never believed.

And although he tried to get you to talk that night, assuring you that he would listen to whatever that was on your mind, he reached the same dead-end street – you were “fine.”

The both of you were shopping when it happened.

Holding two bags in one hand, Harry held your hand in his free one as you walked outside the Gucci store he wanted to visit.

You were midway through a laugh at Harry’s reminder of how you looked in one fiery red and brown sweater that you tried and he had taken a picture of when suddenly a shout directed to you sounded from across the street.

“You don’t fucking deserve him, you fucking gold-digger!”

Harry was a royalty when it came to not giving haters the reaction they wanted, but to hear something directed to you so directly and vulgarly, he was seething.

His head instantly snapped towards the source, looking at the girl who insulted you, standing among other fans and paps.

It was you tugging on his hand that had him drift his attention, “Let it go.”

“Let it go?” He questioned, face hard as you somewhat dragged him towards your car, “No, this wasn’t-”

“Harry, please.”

“She just insulted you.”

“Just get in the car, alright?” Your defeated look almost made him soften – keyword: almost.

Harry got inside with a slam of the door and a scowl on his face, running the car before driving.

Once he got out of the street, Harry glanced at you, “Are you not angry?”

“No.”

You couldn’t be real.

“But you know it’s not true, don’t you?” He asked with concern, glancing from you to the road.

With every passing second that you remained quiet in, Harry’s heart seemed to break.

“Don’t you, Y/N?”

“I don’t want to talk about it.” You said quietly, moving your legs so that they didn’t face him before you looked out of the window.

“Of course you don’t,” he found himself saying, “You never do.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You frowned, turning back to look at him.

“It means you don’t talk to me, Y/N. Ever.”

“I do talk to you.”

“I mean opening up, Y/N,” he clarified, “I’m always bitching about my problems, crying to you and ranting about everything, but I just don’t get why you don’t do the same. Not even the slightest. And don’t give me the because there’s nothing wrong bullshit, please, because we both know that’s not true.”

“I don’t know what you want me to say.” Your voice was raised a little.

“I just want you to trust that I won’t judge you, that I’ll listen to you,” he frowned, “That you don’t have to do and feel everything on your own.”

You remained quiet for the rest of the ride and Harry hated it.

Reaching your apartment, he followed you up and into it, cautiously watching your every move and how you seemed to keep distance from between the both of you.

“What do you want for dinner?” You asked him, your tone almost fooling him and driving him into denial of how nothing wrong had happened only some minutes ago.

Softly, Harry sighed as he watched you begin to take out a few ingredients from your cupboards, “Are we not going to talk about what happened? You want us to just sleep on it?”

“What’s there to talk about?”

Your reply angered him, his jaw clenching for a second before he squinted his eyes at you, “Will you ever stop doing that?”

Sighing, you turned to face him, “Doing what?”

“This,” he gestured towards you, “Denying any discomfort or feeling just because you want to convince everyone that everything is fine when something isn’t, Y/N.”

“You know that I’m not one to open up. You knew that before we got together.”

“I do and I accept that, but can’t you see that it’s unfair, too? I had to find about Jim stealing your designs from your assistant, Y/N. I had no idea that you were terrified of cats until Sarah told me, yet you let me place Evie on your fucking lap and didn’t utter a word! I can go on for days, Y/N,” Harry said, the frown not leaving his face before his face softened, “It’s like every time I finally catch up with you, you run away.”

“It has always been like that for me, don’t you understand that?!” You shouted, mentally cursing at yourself at how your eyes grew tearful.

“I do understand and I understand that it’s something we can work on together! As a couple, a team,” he gestured at the distance between the both of you, “I just need you to help me out, Y/N!”

“What the fuck do you want me to do?” You threw your arms in the air.

With a soft expression and a pained look, Harry’s shoulders slumped down. “Stop running from me.”

Sensing your uneasiness, Harry approached you, engulfing you in a hug as he tightly wrapped his arms around you, feeling you clutch to his sweatshirt.

And then he heard it.

You let out a sob, crying into his chest as you shook against him.

He said nothing, but Harry held you.

“I’ll try,” you had managed to let out and although it was muffled, he heard it, “I’ll try, I promise.”

Harry moved his head to press a kiss to the top of your head, pulling away slightly to cup your face and have you look up at him, “At your own pace, Lovie. No rush.”

You only nodded, face looking innocent as Harry left a kiss on your nose.

“No rush.” He promised.

[creweemmaeec11]

My Demonic Lullaby

A hero x demon snippet partly inspired by both @the-modern-typewriter and @amethystpath-writes hero and demon snippets. This idea actually predates my sleep paralysis snippet, but I never got around to writing it till their snippets got me back on the hero x demon train 😂 Next part to follow soon hopefully!

Insomnia really sucked, Ellory decided. He was already *exhausted* from the fight with one of the cities top villains earlier that day. He was aching all over, his head was throbbing, it was already 3am and yet he *still* couldn't fall asleep.

The hero rolled over onto his back with a groan, both from annoyance and the pain of moving. His ribs ached, still, open cuts stung. His hands came up to rub his face and eyes.

"What I wouldn't give to be able to sleep like a normal person," Ellory mumbled under his breath.

He closed his eyes, flipped his pillow for the * fourth* time that night, and thunked his head back down to the bed.

"Seriously," he muttered to the empty air, "what is it going to cost for me to sleep?"

Ellory had asked the question more to himself, as if asking his brain what he had to do to finally get the rest he so desperately craved.

He wasn't expecting an *actual* answer.

"Need some help?" a low and smooth voice asked from what sounded like the corner of the room.

Ellory tried to snap his head in the direction of the voice, only to be unimpressed by the fact he couldn't move.

"*Oh you have GOT to be kidding me*" Ellory mentally groaned, "*I ask to sleep and what do I get? Sleep paralysis, and even a disembodied voice hallucination to go with it!*"

Suddenly the voice chuckled, "Not quite,"

Now, the hero wasn't new to sleep paralysis. He didn't get it often, but every now and then it would creep its way in. This was the first time it had ever happened *before* going to sleep though. It was also the first time he'd ever hallucinated.

Ellory knew that there were others who had crazy hallucinations, even knew one hero who said they got them almost every night. (Even though they gave Ellory a weird look when they said they'd been getting better recently) Luckily for him though, prior to tonight, the worst he'd ever seen was a shadow or two.

His eyes turned, glancing over as best he could to the corner of his room. Despite the darkness, he could see some vaguely human-shaped swirling shadow. The only way he could make it out at all was because it was somehow even *darker* than the shadows around it.

Luckily, the shadow was just kind of standing there, and despite what his other hero friend had said, it didn't look very scary...

The hero mentally sighed again, letting his eyes slip closed. He was *so* tired. Why couldn't he just sleep?!

"That would probably be the insomnia," the voice stated sarcastically.

"*Thank you captain obvious,*" the hero mentally retorted, before stopping, "*great, now I am literally having a conversation with myself. Maybe villain DID hit me in the head too hard today,"*

The disembodied voice snickered again. Though highly amused, it wasn't mocking or unkind.

"No, you're head is fine. But you never answered my question," the shadow-thing said, its vague shape shifting over, more into Ellory's sight.

Whatever hallucination his brain had come up with didn't seem to be going away any time soon.

"*And that was?*" the hero replied. He had nothing better to do than to just amuse... well, himself; he supposed.

"Would you like some help sleeping?"

"*I would LIKE to be asleep already! And real sleeping, not this nonsense,*"

"I can help," the voice offered, seemingly as the shape took a step forward.

"*Oh I'm sure you can*" the hero replied sarcastically, "*If so, then why aren't you?*"

"You need to say yes for us to make a deal,"

Whatever hallucination Ellorys brain had decided to come up with, it certainly picked... an interesting voice. There wasn't anything wrong with the voice itself, in fact, it was quite pleasant to listen to. It sounded slightly masculine, low and gentle, yet not raspy in the slightest, like whatever this illusion was had never had a sore throat in their life. The weird thing, was it sounded confident and in control, but *wasn't*. The hero had been around villains enough to detect when a false bravado was just that; fake.

Especially with nothing else to do but listen, Ellory was able to easily pick up on the slight hesitations, the shaky undertones, and even the way the tones shifted, despite his sleep-deprived state.

Why would his brain come up with such a random yet weirdly detailed hallucination?

Maybe he *had* hit his head more than once.

"*A deal?*" the hero groaned again, "*Just sleep already!*"

"I can ensure you get a good night's rest every night, if you'd like...just tell me; do I have your permission to help you sleep?"

"*Yes! Please!*" Ellory internally cried. He was arguing - no, *begging* - his own hallucination. That's what tonight has devolved to.

"Very well then," the disembodied voice hummed. The last thing the hero remembered was opening his eyes to see the shadow move closer before things went black.

The next thing Ellory knew, he awoke the next morning, feeling shockingly well-rested.

What a weird dream he'd had last night.

The hero moved to get up, before remembering he was injured and braced for the wave of pain... only for nothing to come.

He looked down, lifting up his shirt to examine his abdomen and... what the hell?

What had previously been a sprawling mess of deep slashes, purplish-black bruises and swelling was now nothing more than a few scrapes, small cuts and the occasional tender spot.

Ellory skimmed his fingers across the surface of his skin, baffled.

Had it just looked worse in the dark? That made no sense.

Regardless, he wasn't about to complain, and he didn't have time to dwell on it. Being a hero meant busy days.

Unfortunately, as the week progressed, the strange occurrences only escalated.

While walking down the stairs the following day, Ellory tripped, nearly going head over heels, before something seemed to suddenly catch him, turning him in the air and standing him upright again.

It had happened so fast. Maybe his reaction times were better than he'd thought? Regardless, Ellory just brushed it off.

But then the following day, one of the cities villains threw a knife at him. He would have reacted to it too slowly if the knife hadn't suddenly stopped in the air mere millimetres in front of him before dropping to the ground with a clatter.

Now he was officially a little weirded out.

But the events just kept happening.

Doors were opening in front of him, only to close when he walked through. He'd knocked a glass of water off the counter, only to look down and see it had landed perfectly, not a drop spilt. His mail from the apartment mailboxes had appeared on his kitchen table when he didn't remember going to get it. Lights were flicking on and off when he'd enter or leave a room. One night he'd even realized he felt a bit chilly, only to hear the heater turn on seconds later.

One night, he fell asleep on the couch, only to wake up with a blanket over him he *swore* wasn't there when he fell asleep.

And yet, the hero had also been getting a great rest every night, drifting off almost as soon as his head hit the pillow.

It wasn't until today, however, that Ellory really began to panic.

The hero had been on the rooftop of an office building, with a villain *on top* of him. (These events had really throw Ellory off his game)

This specific villain, however, wasn't particularly nasty, and Ellory had successfully reasoned with them before, and so despite the knife to their throat, they weren't quite panicked yet.

Said knife was still being held a couple inches away from their throat, more of a warning to stay down than an actual threat of "I'm one word away from slitting your windpipe open,"

"You, are becoming an increasing pain in the ass,"

The hero gave a small smile, "trust me, the feeling is mutual, but you know I can't let you do this,-"

He was cut off by the villain thrusting the knife much closer, "I wasn't aware you-"

Suddenly, without warning, the villain was launched back into the air, catapulted off him. Ellory watched them skid across the roof where they landed a couple meters away.

Whatever the villain saw when they looked back up made the colour drain from their face. They immediately pushed themselves up to their feet, staggered back a few steps, eyes wide, before they turned tail and fled.

The hero was frozen.

*What the hell?!*

Ellory looked down at his shaking hands.

*What the hell just happened?!*

Quickly, the hero got to his feet and took off home, completely panicked. He ran as fast as he could, as if something was chasing on his heels, breathing down his neck. It felt like his own shadow wanted to catch him.

*Something was wrong* *Something was really wrong*

As soon as he made it into his apartment, Ellory ran into his bathroom, looking at himself in the mirror.

He looked normal, though slightly red, which was just the consequence of being so out of breath. He was panting, breathing heavily and shaking. His hair was also a mess, a combination of both the frantic running and previous fight.

He could hear the frantic drumming of his heart in his ears.

Ellory took a deep breath, trying to ground himself. Grip tightening on the counter's edge.

Bending down into the sink, he splashed his face with cold water.

He was patting his face dry with a towel when a voice behind him startled him.

"I'm sorry...."

Ellory's head shot up. In the mirror, he could see a dark shadowy figure in the corner of the bathroom behind him.

The hero immediately whirled around, but was greeted by nothing more than an empty bathroom. His eyes wandered around warily, but not a thing seemed out of place.

Great, was he hallucinating now too?

He sighed, relaxing from the scare before turning back to the mirror and-

Ellory froze.

There in the mirror, in the same spot as before, was the shadowy figure.

He glanced back and forth between the mirror and back corner, but the dark humanoid shape was only visible in the reflection.

There was a few moments of silence as the hero simply stared, brain reeling, trying to make sense of what he was seeing.

The shape was in constant motion, shadows swirling gently, like a foggy aura surrounding a much darker silhouette. The constant movement made it near impossible for the eye to focus on any one part of it, as if trying to see the individual particles in a stream of smoke.

The silhouette inside the aura was a bit more defined, at least around the head and shoulders. Apart from the clearly humanoid shape, the darker mass had no other identifiable features; except for its eyes, which were like two white voids, with a slightly darker pupil in the center.

Said eyes met Ellory's momentarily, before being cast downwards almost sheepishly.

That's when it clicked. The sheepish posture. This was the same shadowy figure from nearly a week ago.

He opened his mouth to say something, but nothing came out. He couldn't think of anything to say.

The figure seemed to take the action to mean he'd had enough time to process.

"I'm sorry for scaring you," they apologized, sounding genuine.

The hero blinked.

*This was really happening*

"What..." the hero managed, barely getting the words out of his mouth. His brain had stalled.

"I was only trying to help," the shadow went on to explain sheepishly.

Something in the hero's stomach seemed to drop, "What... what are you?" He asked nervously.

"I think you know what I am," the demon replied quietly.

Ellory swallowed.

"Why can I only see you in the mirror now when I could see you fine last time?" He asked as if that was the most pressing question at the moment. Perhaps it was the only question he could handle the answer to right now.

"You may want to change your definition of 'fine', you were experiencing sleep paralysis last time,"

Finally, Ellory's brain seemed to catch up, "Why are you here again?"

The shadow in the corner seemed to still slightly, "I'm here because we made a deal,"

Deal...? They didn't make any... wait-

"You tricked me?!"

"Hey!" The demon snapped indignantly, posture suddenly defensive, "Not entirely! I've kept up my end of the deal! You haven't had any trouble sleeping this week have you‽"

Well, no... but...

The hero couldn't help but swallow nervously again, "so then what's *my* end of the deal?"

The shadow's posture instantly deflated again, "just let me hang around, basically..."

Hang around what? His house? Surely not because the demon had been there when he was fighting the villain so clearly-

"You possessed me!?" Ellory realized, eyes widening.

"No!" They replied, sounding almost horrified at the idea, "possession would be taking over control entirely! I'm just... taking up residence in the back corner?"

"What!?"

"Please don't send me back!" The demon pleaded. Their voice was suddenly so *desperate* sounding. The hero could even see the desperation in their white eyes. "I'll do whatever you want I promise! I'll go back into hiding and won't do anything! You won't even know I'm here I swear! I-"

The shadow was full-on rambling now, sounding more and more desperate with every word.

It was probably absurd that his heroic instincts flared, but he couldn't help it! This... being(?) really sounded like they were in trouble. Like they were genuinely scared.

"Hey, hey, it's okay-" Ellory interrupted, holding his hands up and taking a step forward. His heart sank when the figure flinched back, sinking in on itself and pinning its eyes closed as if bracing for something.

When nothing happened after a moment, the demon risked opening their eyes again. Still, they never said anything, just sheepishly stood in the corner as if waiting for a verdict, looking like they wanted nothing more than to hide in their own shadow.

Ellory took a deep breath, surveying the situation. The creature in front of him certainly didn't seem dangerous... and he hadn't tried to hurt the hero at all. Being able to sleep without any problems was also a nice bonus...

"so your... not... going to hurt me or anything?"

The shadow shook its head almost frantically.

"Ok..." Ellory took another deep breath, "As long as you don't hurt me, and don't do anything unless I tell you to, you can stay, okay?"

The demon in the corner immediately perked up, eyes brightening, "r-really?!"

The hero nodded.

"Thank you!" The shadow cheered, and Ellory would swear he could almost see a smile, "Thank you so much! You won't regret it I promise!"

And then just like that, there was a poof of smoke and the demon's reflection vanished, leaving a confused hero that still had a million questions alone in the bathroom.

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