#are they a bad person for getting so irate?

[isekyaaa]

If you don't know me well and you've heard my opinions abt people talking shit, I probably seem like the person that enjoys talking shit about others. To which the truth of the matter is that I don't. Tbh, I feel I do something worse. When I talk about a person to someone else, I break them down from the bottom up by analyzing what makes them so irritating, but also what makes them so great, and I share that analysis with the person I'm talking to. It quickly escalates to bringing up a person's personal issues, traumas, insecurities, etc, and analyzing them under a lens.

[thelaughingmerman]

Came an inch- literally an inch- away from hitting someone today (actually me like I definitely would have been at fault). I checked before ei merged but didn't double check (we were both going like under 10 so it wouldn't have been the worst thing in the world but still). We both stopped and agreed the crunch noise we heard was the slam of brakes on wet asphalt because the cars looked fine. Drove away on good terms. 👍

[thebibliosphere]

Sat too long in my feelings about the Gotham Knights video game Jason Todd going to therapy and trying to engage with his siblings from a place of healing and hurt myself, so now I'm inflicting this on all of you, but:

Do you ever think about how Jason only ever gets to experience Dick as an extension of the breakdown of Dick and Bruce's relationship at that time? Granted, depending on the comic era, Dick maybe doesn't show up as much as he should, or Jason acts like an antagonistic little shit, but overall, Dick's falling out with Bruce overshadows all of it.

And, like, yeah, it's funny to joke that only Jason knows that Dick went through a shitbag teenage phase and that no one ever believes him. (Gaslight, Gate Keep, Gotham ✌) And Jason is irate about it because how can they not see through what is clearly The World's Best Big Brother Act? How can no one else see it's fake?

(Unless it's not fake, and Jason just wasn't worth loving... No, fuck off, he doesn't care, he doesn't. Leave him alone.)

But at the same time, what if Jason's the only one who realizes it's a trauma response?

What if Jason's in the middle of a therapy session or reading one of the self-help books we see him ordering, and he just has to take a moment to breathe because, of course, it's a fucking trauma response. Of course, it is.

Dick's not pretending to be anything. He was, in fact, so severely affected by Jason's death that he over-corrected and now refuses to let himself be anything other than the Perfect Big Brother. Because he can't. Because when he's not perfect, when he's not there for them, they die.

Suddenly the golden retriever's cheerfulness is less grating and more worrying. Dick's need for perfection is less an annoying personality trait to compete with and more an exhausted cry for help that no one else seems to see. Not even Dick.

Because Jason realizes now that he might have never managed to live up to the Golden Boy mantle, but Dick will never get to put it down, either. Because he can't let himself. Because bad shit happens when he does.

So what if that's what he hopes Dick reads between the lines in the email he sends him in GK?

What if, by saying, "Hey, I realize now trying to hold myself to your standards was damaging my relationship with you, but I need you to know it wasn't your fault," was also Jason saying, "Hey, this shit isn't healthy are you fucking okay?"

[ramblings-of-a-chaotic-neutral]

Hello again everyone! It's time for another Merlin au! This time featuring Uther's propaganda and a healthy dose of misunderstandings and pain! :D

This au was inspired by an idea that I pitched in a reblog of one of @tamaha's amazing posts! (Also, shoutout to my awesome mutual @achillesuwu, since you asked to be tagged when I wrote this! :) ) You can find that original reblog here!

EDIT: You can find part two of this au here!

In canon, we know that Uther had children drowned for using magic, and that most of those children were likely warlocks who were born with their magic. However, we also know that most people in Camelot believe that magic is a choice and that it's impossible for someone to be born with it, so how did Uther justify to his people both the existence of child warlocks and the killing of children for something that they had no control over?

Well, Uther utilized his propaganda to justify killing young warlocks. He found some ancient text that hypothesized that warlocks got their powers from being reborn demons, and he used those very shoddy sources to justify his actions.

He spun stories about how warlocks looked human, but weren't human at all. He told the people that while those warlock children might have looked like regular humans, they would grow into powerful demons that would hunt down regular humans and eat their souls to gain more power.

Uther's propaganda campaign was successful, and soon, warlocks were some of the most feared magical creatures in Camelot. The people were terrified at the thought of a beast that could consume souls and blend in among them, unable to detected until it was too late.

Warlocks were a regular element of the nightmares of all of the children in Camelot, who would jump at every shadow and wonder if it was a warlock, there to devour them. Arthur was among those children, lying awake late at night, trembling with fear at the thought of any person he passed on the street being a warlock who would eat his very soul, denying him any afterlife and instead turning his soul into more magical power for the warlock.

And fast forward to some point after Arthur's become king, Merlin has a pretty painless magic reveal. Arthur and the knights were out hunting, they all get ambushed by bandits, Arthur takes a bad hit that would probably be fatal, but Merlin rushes to his side and, without hesitation, uses magic to heal Arthur's wound.

Arthur was, of course, very upset to learn that his manservant and best friend has magic, and they have a big argument over it, but no one physically attacks anyone (despite Gwaine's threats to kill Arthur and the rest of the knights and run away with Merlin).

So, everyone endures a rather tense and awkward ride back to Camelot, where Merlin is the recipient of many irate glares from Arthur and reassuring looks from the knights. When they reach Camelot, Arthur bans Merlin from his presence until he calls for Merlin again. He says that he can't stand the sight of Merlin at the moment, but Merlin will owe him a full explanation later. Merlin tearfully agrees and holes himself up in Gaius's chambers for a few days, while Arthur makes an ass of himself with his foul mood, snapping at everyone in the castle.

The knights try to point out to Arthur that while, yes, Merlin had magic and had lied to Arthur, he had only revealed it to save Arthur's life. Most of the knights used that point as a tool to comfort Arthur and ease his temper, but Gwaine used that fact to rub it in Arthur's face how terrible of a person Arthur was being towards the man who had just saved his life.

Finally, after the whole castle had to suffer through five days of Arthur's prattish and unpleasant behavior, Arthur summoned Merlin to his chambers, feeling calm enough again to actually hear whatever nonsensical reasons Merlin would give for turning to magic.

You see, what Arthur, the knights, and pretty much everyone in the castle had assumed was that Merlin had probably just picked up on some small useful enchantments and healing spells for Gaius's old study of that material. Arthur was angry at Merlin for turning to magic, but he could understand where Merlin was coming from.

Everyone knew that Merlin cared about his friends to the point of idiocy, so it made logical sense that Merlin, since he had the resources available to him, would resort to learning healing magic in case of an emergency. Arthur understood that aspect of Merlin more than anyone else.

Knowing that Merlin's magic was probably just the result of him being a loving and caring idiot did help ease the blow for Arthur, and truthfully Arthur didn't plan on punishing Merlin at all. To Arthur, hopefully confining Merlin to his chambers for a few days would discourage any future stupidity along these lines, and they could put this entire situation behind them.

So, when Arthur summoned a distressingly pale Merlin to his chambers and demanded an explanation, he expected to receive some stuttered response about learning a few spells from some of Gaius's spare books and to extract a promise out of Merlin that he'd never turn to magic again, and then everything would be fine.

However, when a wrought looking Merlin opened his mouth to explain, Arthur's heart plummeted to the floor. At the very first words of Merlin's explanation, "I was born with it," Arthur's chest went cold, and he took a few staggering steps backwards until his back hit the cold wall behind him, his eyes seeking out his blade.

Merlin was born with magic. That made Merlin a... a...

"Warlock," Arthur whispered, his eyes teary and terrified all at once.

Merlin stopped his explanation and tilted his head at Arthur, a small grin pulling on his lips. Arthur flinched back slightly at the sight of it, unable to form a coherent thought beyond the all-encompassing terror, dread, and sorrow that swirled around his mind.

"Ah, so you do know the correct word for it then! Yes, I am technically a warlock, but the distinction doesn't really matter that much anyways."

Merlin made a dismissive gesture with his hand, as if his words hadn't just completely shattered Arthur's heart. Arthur couldn't even listen to the rest of Merlin's explanation through the rush of his heartbeat and breathing in his ears.

The terror gripping his heart shouted at him to fight or flee, don't just stand there waiting for him to decide that he's feeling peckish for souls!

Arthur suddenly registered the pallor of Merlin's skin and the hollowness of his cheeks and came to the awful conclusion that he doesn't have much time, Merlin's already hungry and Merlin was stepping closer there was no time to escape nonono!

Arthur closed his eyes, unable to look at what must have been Merlin unfurling whatever demonic jaws he kept hidden and preparing to eat Arthur's soul...

But the sensation of his soul being devoured, whatever that was supposed to feel like, never came. Instead, he just felt a hand on his forehead, and after a few seconds another one cupped the side of his face.

Arthur hesitantly opened his eyes, almost not wanting to look upon Merlin's happy, friendly face that had always brought nothing but comfort. He didn't want those caring eyes to be that last thing he saw before he died at Merlin's hand!

Slowly, Arthur steeled himself and blinked the tears from his eyes, willing to at least face his death like a true warrior, looking at it head-on.

But, as his vision cleared from the tears, Merlin didn't look like his death, or like any sort of soul-eating monster. He just looked like Merlin, and by god wasn't that the worst part of it?

Merlin slowly smiled at him as his tears dried, coaxing him away from the wall and towards his armchair by the fireplace. Merlin gently guided him over to chair and helped him into his seat, holding Arthur's hand the entire time.

Arthur, once he was sitting, looked over at Merlin, still holding onto his hand and whispering comforting words to him, and Arthur felt like a small, scared child again, freshly awoken from a nightmare and jumping at every shadow.

It took what must have been hours for Arthur to catch his breath, stop his tears, and cease his body's terrified trembling, and Merlin sat next to him the entire time, drying Arthur's tears and comforting him.

Eventually, Arthur looked Merlin in the eyes again, and he could find nothing in them but love and care.

Whatever Merlin was, however hungry he must have been after going five days without being able to hunt for souls to devour, he apparently didn't see Arthur as a target.

Arthur took a deep breath, maintaining eye contact with Merlin. Alright, Merlin might be a soul-eating demon straight out of Camelot's worst nightmares, but he saw Arthur as a friend, not a meal. Arthur... Arthur could work with that.

He just... he needed more information before doing anything else. Merlin was still looking at him with love and concern, and with each passing moment, Arthur became more and more convinced that Merlin was still Merlin, warlock or not. And damn it all, that still counted for something. It had to count for something.

Now that his fear was marginally under control, questions swirled around Arthur's head. How did Merlin even eat souls before this? How often did he need to eat? Did he need to also eat food, or did he sustain himself and his powers on souls alone?

Before he could ask Merlin any of the pressing questions that were on his mind, Merlin had already helped Arthur out of his chair and towards his bed, readying a limp Arthur for bed whilst the king was drowning in his own thoughts.

Before Arthur even knew it, Merlin was pulling blankets over him and snuffing out the candles in his room. Merlin promised to visit Arthur again in the morning to tell him more, and Arthur barely registered his words over the storm of his own thoughts.

When morning came, Arthur couldn't even tell if he had gotten any sleep throughout the night or not, but he woke up exhausted either way. Only a few minutes after the sun had risen, Merlin burst into the room, still looking paler than usual and helping himself to one of the sausages that was supposed to be a part of Arthur's breakfast.

Just the sight of Merlin eating anything made Arthur feel slightly queasy, imaging some terrified soul being devoured at Merlin's hands. Arthur took a deep, steadying breath before getting out of bed, allowing Merlin to dress him as he normally did.

Merlin, much to Arthur's relief, was still acting like nothing had changed, like he was still the same harmless Merlin that Arthur knew him as before yesterday.

If that was how Merlin wanted to act, then Arthur was fine with it. Truthfully, even with all of the questions that Arthur had surrounding Merlin's nature, he found that he didn't really want answers to any of them. Answers would make this new reality, one where Merlin was never harmless at all and where there was a demon hiding under his best friend's skin, real for Arthur. If Arthur didn't have any answers, then he could just... pretend that everything was still fine, like nothing was wrong.

To keep Merlin by his side, he would gladly accept ignorance and pretend like nothing had changed.

However, there was still one issue that Arthur needed an answer to, to confirm that Merlin was still the man who Arthur always thought him to be.

As Merlin was cleaning up Arthur's breakfast plate, Arthur cleared his throat, getting Merlin's attention. Merlin quickly turned around to meet Arthur's gaze, but Arthur didn't feel scared meeting his eyes this time.

"Merlin, I'm willing to let everything that was revealed yesterday be forgiven, and everything can go back to normal."

Merlin gave Arthur a beaming smile at his words, and Arthur continued with a solemn heart.

"However, there is one thing I need to know. You've never..."

Somehow, the words eaten the soul of an innocent person were so vile that they refused to pass Arthur's lips, so he chooses an alternative.

"... hurt anyone who didn't deserve it, right? And you never will in the future? If we are to have any sort of trust between us, you must answer me honestly"

Arthur figured that, if Merlin was indeed forced to eat souls to survive, Merlin was probably feeding on bandits or enemy soldiers that Arthur and the knights would've killed anyways. It was the only explanation, as innocent people didn't mysteriously turn up dead regularly enough in Camelot to indicate that Merlin was feeding on them, and Arthur knew, deep down, that no matter what he was, Merlin would never do such a thing.

Merlin froze at Arthur's words, his smile falling. He lowered his gaze briefly, before meeting Arthur's eyes once more, determination shining brightly in his eyes.

"Arthur, I swear to you, anyone whom I've hurt with my powers were enemies of Camelot. Whatever I've done, I did it to protect you and your subjects."

Arthur nodded, satisfied and relieved by Merlin's answer. Nothing had to change then, Merlin was still his friend and manservant, albeit with powerful magic and an appetite for the souls of his enemies. Arthur could... tolerate that.

As the weeks went on, Arthur found himself thinking about this new side to Merlin less and less. Merlin was still acting exactly as himself, so there was no reason for Arthur to worry, let alone dwell on any thoughts of warlocks.

(And if he had a familiar nightmare from his childhood featuring a warlock, then that was Arthur's business and Arthur's business alone.)

Everything was fine, and months passed without any incidents. That was, however, until Arthur noticed Merlin becoming paler, his cheeks hollowing out again, and his eyes sporting heavy bags. As he took in the changes in Merlin over the past few days, he came to the sickening conclusion: Merlin was getting hungry again, and would need a soul to eat soon.

But Camelot was at peace, there were noticeably less bandits roaming the streets in the past year, and no assassins had come to the castle in the past months. Arthur could see that Merlin's usual... hunting grounds... had been drying up, and he needed to find a solution immediately. Arthur shivered at the thought of what devastation Merlin would unintentionally bring down upon all of them if his hunger ever got out of control.

After several hours of brainstorming on Arthur's part, he finally had an idea. It sickened him to have to consider, but he would do what he had to for the sake of Camelot.

Arthur called for Merlin to follow him as he made his way into the dungeons, where only one prisoner was currently being held. The prisoner was a minor noble who had killed several of his own servants and then used his status as a member of the nobility to cover up his involvement in the murders.

However, the nobleman was sloppy, and there was evidence left behind that proved his guilt without a doubt. He was set to be hanged for his crimes in two days time, as per Arthur's own judgement at the noble's trial, but... if he was going to be executed anyways... perhaps his death may be of use.

(What Arthur didn't know was that the real reason why Merlin looked so exhausted was because Merlin had spent every night for the past week searching for and compiling evidence that the nobleman was behind the murders, as the bastard would've gotten away with it otherwise.)

To Arthur, the criminal's death could be used to ensure that Camelot's only source of magical protection (and Arthur's best and dearest friend) didn't starve to death or go into a hunger-induced rampage, whichever came first.

Slowly, Arthur made his way to the nobleman's cell with Merlin trailing after him, where the criminal was bound to a chair on Arthur's orders. Arthur solemnly opened the door to the cell, gesturing for Merlin to follow him inside.

As soon as Arthur set foot in the cell, the nobleman started begging him for mercy, pleading with him to lower his sentence, not knowing what punishment Arthur truly had in mind for him. Ignoring the soon-to-be dead man, Arthur turned towards Merlin, who was startled by Arthur's intense stare.

"Arthur? What's going on?"

"Merlin," Arthur choked out, his voice rough with guilt, sorrow, and fear alike. Merlin rushed to Arthur's side at the sound, trying to urge him out of the cell, away from whatever issue was causing Arthur such pain.

Standing firm, Arthur cleared his throat.

"Merlin, I need you to... to do something for me."

Concern marred Merlin features as he reached out to Arthur.

"Of course, I would do anything for you Arthur."

Arthur swallowed roughly, trying to force his next words out of his throat. He'd ordered executions before, hell, he'd even ordered this man's execution before, but this was much, much harder than any of the other orders he'd given.

"Merlin, I need you to... take care of this man, as you normally do for enemies of Camelot."

Merlin reeled back with shock, looking somewhere between confused and hurt.

"Arthur, you can't possibly mean for me to..."

"I'm sorry, but yes Merlin, it needs to be done."

Merlin stared at Arthur for a few more moments, before slowly nodding his head and turning towards the bound criminal.

As Merlin stepped closer to the doomed noble, Arthur closed his eyes and turned his head away. Perhaps it was cowardice, but if there were ever a time for Arthur to show such cowardly behavior, it was here. He didn't want to see this part of Merlin.

He did, however, hear everything. There was a scream from the criminal, which was sickeningly cut off by a loud wet crunch that echoes off of the cell's walls, and then there was no sound in the cell except a very loud silence.

Arthur slowly opened his eyes to the sight of Merlin standing in front of a corpse and tried to believe that everything was still normal.

And that's a wrap on this au! Man, that got darker than I expected it to be.

Be sure to let me know if you'd like a continuation of this au!

And, as always, thank you for reading through my ramblings! :D

[uncanny-tranny]

I think it's so relatable to see trans women and transfem and generally people who no longer have a testosterone-dominant system describing what it was like to have a testosterone-dominant system. I find that often, when they talk about being angry, depressed, irate, or just irritable, I relate because that was me before I went on testosterone. I was so fucking angry and irate and genuinely unpleasant to exist around because I didn't have testosterone.

See, I think instead of estrogen or testosterone being the "bad, angry" hormone, it's more like... of course trans people who need hormones are going to be unpleasant before getting hormones - both your body and your brain require that you have a certain level of hormone balance. Of course somebody like me was fucking furious all the time, the brain does weird shit when its needs aren't fulfilled!

This isn't about criticizing any one group of trans people, rather, I encourage people to remember that ascribing inherent qualities to certain traits (e.g., saying "estrogen is such a horrible hormone!") isn't necessarily good. It's absolutely fine to talk about personal experiences with pre-transition, I do that all the time! The only issue is bioessentializing hormones, in essence, ascribing inherentness to traits we often share.

[a-thousand-eyes-and-one]

asoiaf characters who could hack it as a starbucks barista:

— jon. runs that shit like the navy. schedules five minute scream-cry sessions for himself in the supply closet but everyone pretends not to notice bc it kinda seems like its working for him. keeps accidentally charming the regulars

— arya. only ever works closing shift bc if you put her on morning/lunch rush she yells at customers. cleans like a crazy person and leaves the place spotless. WILL put a nick in your car’s tire valve with a box opener if you make her count the till

— loras. makes GREAT coffee and can smooth things over with irate middle aged women very easily. however if ur gay avoid his location bc he cannot stop himself from being catty its in his BLOOD. also:

— dany. hits her (painstakingly decorated) dab pen in her car before work so she’s very zen. however she Is the coworker you sic on asshole customers bc she’s very good at making them feel stupid and also never caves and gives out free drinks

asoiaf characters who could NOT hack it as a starbucks barista:

— sansa. is the aforementioned caver. always turning up the heat because she’s cold even though literally everyone else is sweating like pigs. stayed on a couple months because it turns out mean customers calm down when she starts to cry #prettygirlhack but eventually quits because she hates cleaning the bathroom

— theon. uniquely bad at his job. writes his number on every other cup he hands out even to people wearing wedding bands or ACTIVELY WITH THEIR PARTNER IN THE STORE (has been beaten up like four times doing this). never ties off the garbage correctly. uses too much water when he mops and has slipped in it and twisted his ankle multiple times. is a soundcloud rapper and is always trying to get the manager to play his music in the store

— robb. nobody wants to fire him because hes genuinely a great guy but he takes eighty million years to make one drink and he’s always comping shit for his girlfriend who comes in all the time

— jojen reed. okay at the job but is always saying ominous shit to customers and is passive aggressive to whoever closed the previous night no matter how good of a job they did. quit because someone else got fired for showing up to work high and he didnt want to be next

[clairdelunelove]

jealous!yuuji who adamantly snuffs out any attempts of flirtation directed towards you– even if you aren’t his

jealous!yuuji who’s stuck in the predicament of staying close friends with you. it’s an awkward struggle to teeter in-between the edge of what he wishes and reality. he’s a relatively decent guy. although he doesn’t have much he doesn’t need fancy ways or shiny things to gift you. instead, he gazes at you with honest eyes, takes your cold hands in his warm ones, and always remembers to lower his voice when you’re sleeping beside him. it’s genuine, authentic– him. and you’re on cloud nine. he catches the way your eyes flicker to his lips while he’s talking or how you borrow his sweatshirt more than once. but the two of you never speak a word about it. never owned up to any feelings in fear of losing the friendship you both shared. so it’s no wonder there are times like these where yuuji has to endure the flirtatious remarks thrown your way while the two of you are spending the day at the local arcade. and does yuuji blame the other person for finding you attractive? no, not completely. because you’re dazzling underneath the arcade’s fluorescent lights. vibrant shades of ruby, emerald, and gold dance off your soft features. takes every ounce of willpower within him not to gawk at you whenever he treats you to these outings. so he stands there, stiff and silent, as you toss him a desperate glance to bail you out of the situation. but you both know there’s nothing he can do. you’re not his. vaguely, he wonders if this qualifies as cruel and unusual punishment. it isn’t until the stranger pushes his luck, gets a bit too handsy with you, and yuuji– the sweetest and most selfless guy you know– snaps. 

jealous!yuuji who instinctively reaches for your wrist when the stranger treads into your personal space. forgotten is the overpriced game that the two of you were in the middle of playing. yuuji had shoved his game-card into the machines’ slots (paying for yours in the process) and playfully mentioned how you wouldn’t be able to beat his high score. it’s a basketball game, of course. but now the game’s final buzzer rings to signal that the timer’s up and your game was cut short because of this brassy stranger. your face whips to yuuji, a call for him to help, and the blushy haired male is already reacting. he’s aware that’s one of your biggest pet peeves so it’s no wonder you’re startled. long fingers wrapped around your skin, he checks in with you by gently murmuring, “you okay?” you nod, focusing on how his brows crease as his hand moves to cradle your face and gauge your reaction. honeyed eyes skitter across your face, stopping just a second longer on your glossy lips. a couple moments pass before he’s dropping his grasp onto you and stuffing his hands back in his pockets. he’s so tense over such a small incident and the ideal causes your cheeks to warm. “I’m good, yuu. thanks,” you answer before the moment is interrupted by the overbearing stranger. “look, my bad. but,” the guy rubs at the back of his neck and explains, “you’re really pretty and I just wanted your number.” it’s not often you’re complimented in public so you’re compelled to force a sheepish smile, unable to detect how yuuji goes rigid at the statement, and apologize, “sorry but I’m not interested. thank you though.” you’re polite about it yet the flirt (apparently) isn’t used to getting turned down because he’s frowning. “it’s ‘cuz of your friend here, isn’t it?” then, the guy gives a pointed stare at yuuji’s closeness with you.

jealous!yuuji who’s peculiarly irate and blurting out, “friend?” his voice is unusually sharp. it’s like he’s spitting out venom when he says the word. taking a step in front of you, he uses his broad physique to cast a shroud over you. and you’re reminded just how wide his muscled shoulders are from under the faded cotton of his jacket. makes you dizzy. the swirls of forbidden desire biting at you. the stranger only shrugs in response to yuuji’s inquiry, muttering, “yeah. she’s not your girl right?” and yuuji clenches his jaw as he discerns the audacity of the other male’s words. taking yuuji’s silence in stride, the flirt makes a grab at your wrist and mentions, “so how about that number, beautiful–” but yuuji’s quicker. his calloused hand swats at the guy’s before he can tug you towards him. the smack produces a blow that you’re certain will sting until tomorrow morning. “she said no so get your hands off her, dude,” yuuji’s voice drops as his gaze narrows, “and don’t ever pull that crap around me again.” his expression is deadpanned. serious to the point of lethality. and if anyone knows anything about yuuji– it’s that he can fight. combat experience, power, stamina; he’s got it all. yet, it’s almost unnerving to hear such a tone of voice coming from him since you’ve only ever seen him upbeat. the stranger appears even more frightened than you are, though. a glance at yuuji’s veiny, muscled forearms and the guy is stumbling through a weak apology; even scurries away and leaves the both of you alone again. idle in the middle of the arcade. you stare up at him, only met with the back of his head where little tufts of blushy hair stick out underneath his backwards cap. yuuji’s eyes are still trained on the guy’s retreating figure. he exhales heavily once the stranger is completely gone but doesn't let his guard down. a beat of silence passes and the realization that he’d just scared off one of your potential suitors has his eyes widening in alarm. 

jealous!yuuji who, when he whips around to face you, expresses the epitome of innocence. his pink lips are set in a pout that adds to the sheepishness written on his face, “sorry, I don’t know what came over me–” but to his shock, you’re laughing. you’re in full hysterics, clutching at your stomach and covering your mouth to maintain some sense of decency despite your giggles. usually yuuji’s nerves would settle from hearing that melodic sound but he’s stumped. genuinely baffled at your reaction to the whole ordeal. “what’re you laughing at?” he asks as his head whips to the direction the stranger sprinted off to and adds, “I don’t see anything funny.” and the pure bewilderment that he expresses is too amusing. “sorry, I just,” you take a breath and gesture to his face, “I’ve never seen you that mad before.” and the notion of why he wouldn't be irritated crosses his mind. “oh c’mon,” yuui huffs almost childishly, “you and I both know what he was trying to do.” he declares this like it’s the most obvious trick in the book. and when you quizzically tilt your head at his comment, a habit you do that never fails to make him swoon, he’s sputtering on his words. “you’re joking, he was literally flirting with you,” he swipes an exasperated hand over his face as his voice borders a whine, “while I was there!” and you can’t help but realize how much boyish charm yuuji carries with him. he gazes at you; starlight eyes looking into yours like you hold his heart in your hands. truly, it’s sensible to him– this vex that crept up on him like a monster and encompassed his entire being due to a singular person’s act. an inkling of bitterness that he’s never been greeted with. never felt the need to keep what’s important to him close. to encompass it: mind, body, and soul. perhaps his feelings towards you were stronger than he imagined. 

jealous!yuuji who’s immediately dropping his uncharacteristic frown once your hands reach for him. he’s easily lulled into your space. you just have a magnetic pull that he never opposes and he doesn’t plan to any time soon. a soothed breath passes his lips when he recognizes your fingers brushing underneath his backwards cap. a small gesture that always works to relax him. leaning forward, he positions himself so it’s easier for you to smooth the strands of his tousled hair from where it’s hidden from view. “that jerk could’ve asked anyone else for their number,” he grumbled, breaking the stillness. you glance at him as he chews at his lower lip, sulking at the audacity of the stranger that found you attractive. you’re giggling at his honest display of affection and the sound is like a balm over his unease. understanding that alleviates his spite. “are you jealous, yuu?” you tease but your voice is sweet. and you’re wholeheartedly expecting him to retort, in true yuuji fashion, but his silence stuns you. instead, he turns to bury his face in the crook of your neck, breathing in your candied perfume, and relishes your embrace. he’s smitten by you. entirely. and you’re glancing to the side in a daze, memories and possibilities of the two of you dancing in your mind. a dream that you frequent more than you care to count. after a couple moments he pulls away with both hands grasping your shoulders. pure devotion drips from his eyes. you’re suddenly getting hot around the collar of your shirt and the tips of his ears are flushed but it was clear; this secret that was known between the both of you. the undeniable truth that yuuji was jealous– over you. and you jolt when he quietly (finally) mumbles, “I just didn’t like that too much, alright?” 

[mysticalmallard]

Silence

Description: Happy is in a bad mood, he doesn't want to talk about it.

Word Count: 839

Warnings: none just Happy being a grump

SoA Taglist: @arkytiorlecter @aimkatsz @ravennaortiz @darqchilddaydreamz @mischiefnevermanaged89-blog @hatersaremymotivators @theshynerdsworld @thefrogytimes @youngadult9016

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SoA Masterlist ♥︎ Main Masterlist

Happy was in a sour mood for some reason. He was sitting on the couch in his apartment. He wore only jeans, and was glaring at the wall behind the TV, like he could set fire to it through the power of his thoughts alone.

His girlfriend wandered in, took one look at his expression and frowns a little . She crossed over the floor and leaned against the arm of the couch right next to him.

"Babe, something up?" She asked, reaching out to gently caress his shoulder. Her touch usually served to soothe his temperament, but today it was not having the same effect. His frown deepened slightly and he didn't react beyond a tiny huff out his nose as she touched him.

She was beginning to get a little worried. Happy was usually a very pleasant, but somewhat stoic person. He didn't often get into moods like this, but on the rare occasions that he did, they were often rather intense. She knew from past experience it was best to let him talk when he was ready, rather than trying to badger him into talking.

So, she stayed where she was, patiently stroking his shoulder and back like you would in an attempt to placate an irate animal, but it seemed to have no effect.

Happy sat in absolute silence for several minutes before he finally spoke."Bad day," he grunted finally.

His girlfriend didn't outwardly react to his words, but internally, she was a little relieved. The fact that he was at least talking was, in her experience, a good sign. She was careful to keep her replies low and soft, not wanting him to think she was trying to aggravate him.

"Want to talk about it?" She asked gently.

"Don't really feel like talking," he replied, a slight edge in his tone. He leaned forward and rested his forearms on his thighs.

While not necessarily an angry gesture, it wasn't a particularly positive one either. Happy wasn't the kind of man to share his emotions openly, even with the woman he loved.

He sat back against the couch, stretching out his long legs with a hefty exhalation as he did so. He remained sitting like that for a moment, just listening to her moving around in the kitchen.

She hums, standing walking into the kitchen.

Happy's eyes flicked up to follow her as she walked away. He watched in silence as she padded into the kitchen, disappearing from view, the sound of the floor creaking slightly under her feet.

After a moment or two of silence, his girlfriend returned, carrying two bowls full of cereal. Happy immediately recognized them as his favorite, prompting a slight raise of his eyebrows in surprise.

He hadn't expected her to do something so considerate, his foul mood leading him to believe she would likely be just as pissed at his behavior as he was.

A hint of a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth as he watched her put the cereal down on the coffee table and turn on the TV.

Cartoons flickered to life on the screen, which only furthered his smile.she grab her bowl and joins him on the sofa next to him but still making sure to leave space between them, not saying a word. Happy eyed her silently, studying her profile as she watched the cartoons with an air of calm patience.

Her lack of reaction to his mood was perplexing to him. His ex's would usually comment on his grumpy mood in a teasing manner, yell at him for ignoring them, or at the very least ask him to lighten up. Yet, she said nothing, simply sitting there, eating her cereal.

He felt his frown gradually soften somewhat, the calm atmosphere and the cartoons slowly beginning to have a positive effect on his mood. He remained quiet for a few more moments as they sat in silence, the only sound being the chirping of cartoon characters and the quiet clinking of their spoons against their bowls.

The longer he sat there, the more her lack of reaction began to feel like an absence instead of a presence. It was strange not having someone poking at him to talk about his feelings. It wasn't entirely unwelcome, but it was certainly different.

He glanced over at her again, taking in her composed expression, the curve of her jaw, the way stray strands of her hair dangled over her shoulder.

Then, he did something unusual, even for him.

He wordlessly scooched himself closer to her until their bodies were almost touching.

She looked up at him with a hint of surprise in her eyes, her gaze flicking from the cartoons for the first time since she sat down. The faintest trace of a smile tugged at her lips, betraying her otherwise neutral expression.

She didn't move away when he shuffled up to her, allowing his shoulder and hip to press against hers. She waited patiently, not commenting, not questioning, just content to be close to him.

[midnightarcheress]

Simon thinks he could live like this.

pairing: bodyguard!ghost x actress!reader cw: nothing he's just down bad 7 | gold rush masterlist.

“are you insane?!” Daniel shouts, slamming the door behind him and stomping his feet towards Simon with a menacing look, “you think you can just move her around like this?”

“she wasn’t safe in that house, this is for her protection,” he answers promptly, crossing his arms and taking a step in front of you, covering your frame from the irate man. if he could, he’d land a punch on his face in no time, not caring that technically he’s his boss.

“yeah? and you simply have to be here with her, right?” he scoffs, rolling his eyes at him. you watch the scene unfold from behind Simon, brows knitted together and bottom lip nearly bleeding from biting too much. he’d managed to momentarily tranquillize you, bring you back to earth after the terrifying panic state, but the anxiety kept simmering underneath your skin, just waiting for another chance to take over your body.

“the shitty security system you put in her house wasn’t enough to prevent the bastard from intrudin’, the bloody alarm didn’t even go off,” he retorts, eyes shooting daggers straight ahead, “so yeah, i’m gonna stay with her for as long as it’s necessary. contract says to protect her, doesn’t it?” 

the two of them stay quiet, a silent staring competition on Daniel’s side, a mere warning on Simon’s side. he won’t budge, won’t allow you to go back to that house, hand you on a silver platter to the grim reaper hiding behind letters and eerie messages. 

Dan leans on his side to look at you, ignoring the mass of a man in front of him. “are you sure about this?” his tone is strangely soft, like a switch flipped in his mind, all anger vanishing. you nod, offering him a small smile that does a poor job of concealing how nervous you are about the situation. he purses his lips, taking one last glance at Simon’s unwavering posture before sighing in defeat.

it’s been two weeks since the mirror message that led Simon into comforting you, and two weeks since he had to control his own panic, trying his best not to spiral. it had been a while since he shared a living space, so staying with you feels like a dream that he’s constantly afraid of turning into a nightmare by saying the wrong thing, acting the wrong way, or even thinking about what’s happening. 

the safe house Price arranged is far from the size you’re used to, being at least three times smaller than your own house. but to his surprise, again, your reaction to it contradicts his expectations. it could just be you being a phenomenal actress, covering your resentment behind a beaming smile, but you seemed to have grown accustomed to his presence easily, didn’t protest once, never lamented the loss of luxury and privacy.

he wanted to deny the feeling, shove it deep down in his brain and lock the safe, but it was nice, the domesticity of it all. it was nice learning little details about your routine; how you only get out of bed the second time your alarm rings; how you’re definitely not a morning person, judging by the gruff good morning you mumble when you slide to the counter stool; how you love trying new recipes and quietly dance in the kitchen, freezing when you notice him watching you; or how you’re always carrying something to read, it being a book or a script.

it was nice making you coffee in the morning and seeing you rub your sleepy eyes, nice hearing you humming a song in the shower, nice catching a glimpse of you in lingerie when you forget to lock your bedroom door, nearly making him choke in his own spit by the sight of the small tattoo on your hip. is it a star? a flower?

he felt like he was playing house with you. a game where you’re his loving wife and he’s a devoted husband, where he could feed his delusions, live everything he was convinced he’d never have in this lifetime. inside those walls, he could do it all, except the one thing he longed the most – touch you. kiss the top of your head when you’re baking in the kitchen, run his fingers through your hair when you’re curled up on the couch, feel your soft skin under his fingertips when you lay in bed, bend you over the table when you pass by him in skimpy pyjama shorts.

“do you... wanna watch a movie?” you ask, remote in hand and head leaned back on the sofa, chewing the inside of your cheek and attentively glaring at the television. he tilts to the side, stirring his thoughts away and taking in the view of your features illuminated by the bright lights coming from the screen. it was easy to get lost in how beautiful you were, a magical creature brought to earth to bewitch him. 

your head suddenly shifts to where he’s sitting, and it hits him that you’re still expecting an answer. fuck. “uh, yeah, sure.” he mumbles, snapping back to the telly, swallowing the desires his throat dared to spill.

later that day, Simon steps onto the front porch for a much-needed nicotine fix, dark blues painting the sky as the last rays of sunlight vanish from the horizon. he hates the burning sensation of the smoke in his lungs, but always craves the lightheadedness and dopamine flush in his veins, no matter how many years it takes from his life. 

“god!” you jump, looking behind you and putting a hand over your chest to steady your rapid heartbeat, “you really are a ghost, aren’t you?” a chuckle falls from your lips after the startle, travelling the air like a lullaby, and he ignores the flutter in his chest that happens whenever you laugh.

“sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.” you shrug and turn back to your initial position, sitting on the steps and watching the crunchy tree leaves dancing in the breeze. he follows your gaze to the front lawn, bringing a cigarette from the pack to his lips, debating if he should truly smoke with you in there. you never complained, but he’s caught you frowning at the thin cardboard a few times around the house, so he decides not to light it.

“can i ask you something?” you blurt out, lifting your chin to face him, eyes searching for his, and his head dips, irises focusing on yours. one brow raises at your sudden curiosity and he nods, back propped against the column, waiting, “why Ghost?”

his jaw tenses, gaze shifting from you to the carton in his hands. the ever-dreaded question. “dunno. just a nickname.” lie. he couldn’t tell you how everything was taken from him and he faked his death years ago; how he truly became the ghost of man. you don’t deserve to be burdened with that knowledge, so it is just a nickname. 

he looks back to you, gauging if you bought his deflection or not. you’re still focused on him, vision flicking at every crease of his expression, waiting for any falter, but it doesn’t come. “you can call me Simon.”

the thin line of your lips breaks into a smile, cheeks rising and making his heart skip a beat. so much for easy detachment, “okay, Simon.”

the way i still have at least ten parts of this story in my outline but i'm so unmotivated to write it :(

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for taking pictures of my sister's house and not deleting them?

I (25f) and my adopted sister L (also 25) have grown up together since we were babies and are extremely close. I truly love her and want the best for her.

She has been married for 5 years to D (25m). They dated since they were 18 and got married at 20. I never had an issue with him except at times I thought he was immature. They have a kid together who is adorable and about to turn 3.

However, as they have been married i have an issue with him. I don't hate anyone, but he is highest on my shit list. Not an exhaustive list but he has (and I want to make this clear THESE ARE THINGS I HAVE WITNESSED I AM NOT LISTING THINGS SHE ONLY HAS TOLD ME ABOUT):

Whenever they argue yells at her. Even in front of guests (ahem me). She'll yell back and then he gets upset she is "raising her voice" at him, when he started it.

He won't let her get a job. He has canceled her applications for jobs before. She has sold some stuff online until he sold the materials she used to make things. Her only "income" is if he decides to give her an allowance and transfer money from his account to hers (please note they have BOTH their names on the accounts but one is considered hers one his). If she takes money from his account he gets mad. Bills, groceries, etc. Come from "her" account

Was always sweet but now uses her as jokes to his friends. Demeans her in front of them.

They move a state over after they got married, almost 5 hours away. Doable in one day, but many don't like to do it. Since being married, she has effectively not seen any of her friends except when they come into town to visit. I have went to visit her and one of her friends did, that friend confided they did not feel comfortable or welcome. That doesn't bother me cause personally I don't give a shit what D thinks and am there for my sister and nephew. But I have overheard D talk bad about all her friends, even me, snd encourage her not to talk to them.

The two friends she has made in the area D has told her to drop because they are "bad influences". The worst thing one has done was medical Marijuana that was prescribed to them. Not sure how they are bad except they've encouraged her to get a job and be more independent

D decided to get a cat, which my sister has a known allergy to. She didn't want the cat, but D brought it home. It has absolutely zero training and has destroyed their home. It pees everywhere, including my nephew's bed. It hates absolutely everyone except D, even attacking my sister for sitting on the couch next to D. D refuses to get rid of the thing even though it has scratched my sister and nephew multiple times and my nephew is afraid of it

Of course, there's more, but those are all things I have witnessed. The last part is what prompted me to take pictures of the bed that was peed on, the scratches on the kid and my sister. My sister showed me texts of her begging D to get rid of the cat and to me it seemed he threatened her, so I took a picture of that.

I personally believe D is an abusive prick. Definitely financially and emotionally, but not physically unless you consider neglect or him keeping the cat. He has never once hit my nephew or my sister that I have seen, and she has never stated he has. My sister has talked about leaving but then goes back to him, and I know on the outside it seems clear to me what to do but I know there is a cycle of abuse. When she is ready to leave him, she knows she can come to me and our parents.

However, D found out I took the photos. He called me drunk and extremely irate, but he didn't explicitly threaten me. It was implied. He called me an asshole, which is what made me think of this. He told me to delete the photos and that upon me doing so, he will get couples therapy.

On one hand I know they need therapy. On the other, what's to prove he will do this after I do that? My sister is begging me to delete the photos because she believes if they have therapy things will improve.

To be specific: D wants to be there when I delete them and make sure they are gone and to me that just proves how bad of a person he is because he doesn't want any evidence of any wrongdoing. My sister has sent me multiple texts and I know she has been trying to make a way for things in case it does go south, but she is afraid the inlaws will attempt for custody because apparently the inlaws have a bit of money and know the judge in our area. I dont want these photos to be used against her either...

AITA for not deleting them?

What are these acronyms?

[lizardaggro]

on the flip side (twst bully!au) pt 3

here we are, the long-awaited (it was literally like 1 day) part 3!! i wanted to declare on one of the actual chapters since those get seen by the most people that I DID NOT MAKE THIS AU, credit i believe goes to @azulsluver. i swear i don't hate you guys, leaving everything on a cliffhanger, but the good news is i have a lot of time on my hands due to chronic illness so i can update super often. also i gave up on the purple theme on posts bc tumblr hates me and always leaves the end of the word count black.

part 1 part 2

genre: gn reader, angst trigger warnings: bullying, mild yandere (will be escalating throughout the series, but no non-con) word count: 1246

You couldn’t really afford to space out and think about it though, not when he was right in front of you. Riddle tapped his foot impatiently, clearly irate at your lack of response. “Well?” He asked. “Do you not even have anything to say in your defense?”

Oh dear. However were you supposed to get rid of him when he was so intent on getting some sort of answer out of you? You had no idea what he wanted! He was more difficult to threaten, too, since you’d made up your mind that you didn’t want to be like your tormentors and completely ruin others’ lives. No, your end goal was just to make them leave you alone. After everything you’d been through, you really didn’t want to see them again.

It might seem strange to some people, that you weren’t dead set on destroying any semblance of normalcy they once had. You had all the ammunition you needed, of course. The Overblot victims would be the easiest to topple, considering what they’d done in and leading up to that state. But you didn’t think you were a particularly vengeful person; at least, you didn’t want to be. Crowley had always said that you must’ve been sent here to get his precious students to work together, so clearly you weren’t like them.

“I never asked for this, Riddle. Any of this. So if you think somewhere in your fucked-up mentality that you’re doing me some sort of favor, you’re dead wrong,” you intoned. Indeed, even though you just wanted them gone, you missed the days when you were all friends. Back when you thought everyone had your back no matter what. Oh, if only you knew what they’d do for you. It wouldn’t be hard at all to push some of the more unstable students over the edge. Those who felt they didn’t have anyone else. Much like a certain dragon fae who never did seem to get invited to things.

Riddle looked like he was about to say something, but before he could, he was drenched by a great torrential rain. Where did that come from? Didn’t the forecast say it was supposed to be clear skies and sunny for the rest of the week? Your question was soon answered, as you had two more visitors.

“Silver? Sebek? What brings you here?” You inquired, not at all amused. When those two showed up at the same time, it could only mean one thing, and it wasn’t good. Riddle looked like he had caught on as well, since he stepped in front of you, as if that would do any good.

“LORD MALLEUS REQUESTS YOUR PRESENCE!!” Sebek boomed. You’d made progress on his volume in the past, so you were sure he did it just to annoy you. Silver just stared. He always stared, you felt like. Sometimes you swore you could feel his eyes on you even when he was nowhere to be found.

“Oh, gee, I wonder what that’s about,” you snarked. “Poor little princey-poo doesn’t want his embarrassing little secrets getting out? Well you can tell him to fuck off.” You must’ve been feeling especially brave, since normally you knew that defying Malleus Draconia was as good as a death sentence. He wasn’t even that bad, compared to some of the others. He just… locked you in his room and made you listen to him talk, with no room to get a word in edgewise. He’d go on and on about one thing or another for HOURS, with no regard for your schedule or your bodily needs. Clearly fae had a different sense of time than most.

It was the loss of control over your own life that you hated; that, and that if he really still considered you a friend, he never bothered to do anything about your bullies. You knew he was more than capable; you’d witnessed his strength firsthand on multiple occasions. You didn’t know what his endgame was, and frankly you were too scared to find out. He could trap you there forever and you wouldn’t be able to do a single thing about it.

Sebek was not amused. He raised an arm, likely to strike you, but Silver placed a hand on it, effectively stopping him. “Don’t. You wouldn’t want Lord Malleus to see a bruise on them,” he reasoned. You didn’t get it. Since when would he care? Sebek roughly shoved Riddle out of the way, despite all his objections, and nonchalantly slung you over his shoulder.

“What the hell?!” You screeched, pounding your fists on his back. “Put me down! I’m not going!” You weren’t sure why you were objecting so vehemently; this time wasn’t any different than the others. But something about the dark gray clouds pouring rain on what should’ve been a lovely day just told you that this was not going to be good.

But alas, your plight was ignored. The three of you made your way to Diasomnia in silence. No one bothered to stop and stare in the halls, as you being carried off by people was somewhat of a normal occurrence. You could swear Savannahclaw and Diasomnia even had some sort of twisted capture-the-flag game going, for whatever reason.

When you entered the gothic-style castle, you were greeted by none other than Lilia. Much like Malleus, he’d never bothered you too terribly, only engaging in less-than-welcome pranks. You knew he was far older than he let on, so you supposed he didn’t see the point in such childish endeavors. There was, however, one thing you feared about the man: his cooking, which he tried to shove down your throat at every opportunity. How Silver grew up healthy you’d never know.

And so, of course, you were greeted by a plate of… well, goop, to put it nicely. “Here, have a seat, dear, I made lasagna,” Lilia offered with what you assumed was supposed to be a warm smile. To you in that moment, with the fumes starting to reach your nose, it looked like a shit-eating grin.

“I’ll pass, thanks. That is to say, I’d rather die than eat that shit, because it looks and smells like it’ll send me straight to hell,” you deadpanned. Sebek let out an unholy screech and started ranting about how dare you refuse Lord Lilia, even though you knew he wouldn’t want to eat it either. You did your best to tune him out. Silver looked relieved, surprisingly enough. You supposed he was able to empathize since he grew up eating the stuff.

Luckily for you, Lilia just sighed and walked off, taking his culinary abomination with him. The three of you who remained shared a look. “How are you still alive after all these years?” You asked Silver. He shrugged. If even he didn’t know, you’d just call it a miracle.

“SILVER, QUIT FRATERNIZING WITH THE ENEMY! LORD MALLEUS IS WAITING!” Sebek practically screamed in your ear. You really wished he would stop doing that. But you had more important things to worry about, like your impending death by dragon fae. Once you arrived at Malleus’s room, Sebek set you down and pushed you inside. You heard the lock click behind you. You gulped, feeling the pressure of being alone in a room with a presumably angry and very powerful mage. You looked up to see a pair of emerald eyes staring you down. Oh boy, this was not going to be fun.

taglist: @twistedcece @slxt4h1m @teawhere @pleasehugmeaether @reivelmin @aoiyx

[thelovinghost]

Could I plz request a grumpy/sunshine dynamic (reader being the grumpy) for Tamaki, Hikaru and Kaoru?? Tysm!

Hell yeah

If you like my work, you can support me here or here [Anything is appreciated]

Tamaki Suoh

Your personality does not deter him

In fact, he'll try even harder to be friends with you

He wants you to like him and he'll do anything for you to like him

There is a part of him that doesn't even realize you don't like him, but there will be moments where he'll be like 'What if they don't like me?'

You do eventually tolerate him because-

1. He won't stop trying to be friends with you

2. He has more influence, power, and money and you really can't afford to have him as an enemy

And lastly 3. He's not all that bad to be around

He always does everything in his power to see you smile and/or happy

It makes him giddy and proud that he made you feel that way

He invites you to the Host Club and gets so sad when you don't show up

Although, when you do show up, he ends up neglecting his other guests, so Kyoya limits your time w/ Tamaki [Kyoya would like to eradicate your time, but Tamaki won't have it]

Tamaki loves giving you gifts, because no matter how much you try and hide it, you always give him a smile, even if it's small

He'll come over to your house, UNANNOUNCED, and it always irates you to no end. He just hates being away from you and wants to be near you

He kind of likes that you're mean, because he doesn't have any competition

Hikaru Hitachiin

Hikaru? Sunshine? Maybe in another universe

You're both grumpy and it takes time for you to become friends

You actually start off as enemies

You two have more in common than you'd like to admit

Kaoru is tired of hearing about you and finally invites you over so you can both talk, because he's sick of you

^So many death stares

When you two do become friends, thanks to Kaoru, everyone should be scared

You're like the little red devil on someone's shoulder and he's the worse version

You two are not a duo to be messed with

You gang up on people, by tag teaming them [Usually Tamaki is the victim of your tagteams]

[Tag team= Ganging up on someone in an arguement.]

Hikaru realize he actually really likes you, because you're actually kind of funny

He denies his feelings tho

He actually tries pushing you away in fear of these feelings. He doesn't want you to hurt him, so he ends up hurting you

This really pisses you off and you try confronting him

But he just avoids you

Kaoru tries asking him about it, but Hikaru either avoids the question or shrugs him off

Kaoru will soon pick up on Hikaru's feelings though, because that's his twin

He [Kaoru] confronts his brother and Hikaru tries to deny it, but he's cornered and he finally yells at Kaoru saying-

"Fine! I like them! Are you happy?"

Yes, Kaoru is happy and he pushes Hikaru to confess to you

It takes a while, but Hikaru eventually does do it, while Kaoru spies hoping for the best for his brother

Kaoru Hitachiin

He thought you were pretty and wanted to talk to you

Your grumpyness doesn't bother him, because his twin brother is grumpy too, so he's used to it

He'll listen to you rant and complain and try and give you advice

He keeps you away from his brother in fear of either you liking Hikaru, not being able to tell the difference between them, or you two ganging up on him when realizing you two are both mean ppl

Kaoru seeks you out and gives you little gifts to make you happy

^ Lots of clothes and fashion [Stuff that remind him of you]

Whenever you are sitting together, you both are usually a few feet apart, but slowly he scoots closer and closer to you

He's so in love that anyone can see it

Hikaru doesn't like you when he does finally meet you, because you're taking his brother from him

Kaoru acts as the buffer between you both

If you have a bad day, he's always there for you and is willing to try and boost your mood

[ohtobeleah]

Absolutely no pressure Leah but I’m really keen for a part three of that Hangman x Mitchell Reader story.

Part One, Part Two, Masterlist

This took off and I wasn’t expecting to receive the feedback and the support for this I did so thank-you for that.

Warnings: Smut. Jake Seresin x younger!Mitchell reader. Age gap.

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~

Jake can hear the hollering and the wolf whistles echoing throughout the men’s locker room before he sees you rounding the corner. He knows it’s you because he hears one of the new recruits he still doesn’t know the name of purr out your callsign when he sees you push the door nearly clean off its hinges. Angry evident in your eyes as you scan the room full of half naked, towel clad Aviators. 

“Iris—you know this is the men’s locker room sweetheart.” 

“Bite me—“ You snarl. Making your way with quick heist through the men getting changed into their flight gear and showering after their morning workouts. 

“Fuck—“ Jakes jumping up in a panic. He doesn’t know where to go so he just stands there looking all kinds of stressed. Just as he’s about to duck into the nearest vacant shower, you spot him and he spots you. “Ah crap—“

“You!” You’re pointing at him from across the space. “You didn’t tell me you were an instructor!” You shout through gritted teeth as you take a few steps Jake's way. But he’s smart enough to keep the bench between you and himself as he steps away. Keeping a healthy distance from the forbidden fruit he wasn’t allowed to touch again. You. But oh how he wished he could. “God, I should have put two and two together when you asked Rooster for his stupid shirt!” 

“You didn’t tell me that you’re Maverick's daughter until you’d sucked my soul from my dick!” Jake is just as irate as you are. “Do you know what hell he’ll do to me if he finds out!” Jakes whisper shouting at you through gritted teeth. Pulling at his own hair as he does so. The stupid vein in his neck is bulging. He's so stressed. “I defiled Pete Mitchell’s daughter! God, I can kiss my career goodbye.”

“What about my career huh? The second any of those guys find out that I fucked one of my instructors they will never take me seriously!” There’s a pause that falls between you as you stare at one another, drinking in the sight of each other—there was undeniably sexual tension between you and Jake Seresin. But knowing what you know now and who he is and who he’s strictly supposed to be to you, there’s simply nothing you can do to scratch that insatiable inch. 

“So we sweep this whole thing under the rug?” Jake suggests and you have to admit it’s not the worst idea in the entire world. “We start over, pretend like we didn’t, you know, fuck—“ 

“We don’t tell anyone? Ever?” You added, sticking your hand out for Jake to shake as he came out from behind the other side of the bench. “Except for Rooster because that stupid bird already knows.” 

“We put this whole thing behind us, we don’t say a single word to a single soul.” And there’s a second, a second where as Jake Seresin reaches his hand out to shake yours—you feel a jolt of electricity course through your body when he touches you. You swallow heavily, shaking on the deal that you’d never tell a soul about what happened between you two.

Hangman feels it two, he’s looking down at you as you stand there shaking hands in the men’s locker room for an awkward amount of time, but what’s more awkward is the fact he’s got a raging hard on and half a mind to push you back into the vacant shower to feel you just one more time. 

“You should probably get out of the men’s locker room now—“ Jake smirks, pulling you close by the hands that’s wrapped in his, he smiles at the little oof that escapes your mouth when you collide with his chest. “Incase daddy dearest catches you in here.”

“The last person I called daddy was you, Lieutenant Commander Seresin.” Fuck, that made Jake feral. 

“We shouldn’t do this again, it would be bad right?” Jake asks, he wants to hear you say it, that you want him, that you’ll risk your career to fuck him again, because he’s debating putting his on the line just to feel you wrapped around him again. 

“Good and bad are just artificial constructs.” You explain, looking at Jake in a silent moment before his lips are crashing against yours in a feverish lustful manner. Your hand’s immediately make quick work at the button on his flight suit as he leads you back into the shower—pushing you against the wall as his hands cup at your cheeks and keep you still as he slips his tongue into your mouth. “This is fucking crazy—“

“Don’t think, just do me—“ Jake mumbled back as articles of clothing that had been rendered useless were removed and tossed haphazardly to the floor of the shower. 

There wasn’t much time, but Jake made sure to sink to his knees before you as he guided one of your legs up over his shoulder. Two fingers danced at your entrance, collecting your arousal as he looked up through hooded eyes to revel in the sight of your jaw going slack.

“Shit you’re soaked, you get off on the fact that you fucked your superior?” 

“I get off on the idea of bringing grown men to their knees.” You corrected Jake as he connected his lips around your clit and sucked a perfect pressure, slipping his two arousal soaked fingers into your dripping cunt. “Shhhhit—“ 

“Shh—gotta be fucking quiet this time.” Jake pumped his thick digits inside you, curling his fingertips against your velvet walls before he pulled away, rising to his feet once again as he pumped himself a few times. “If I fuck you, you gotta be quiet.” 

“Yes sir—“ You agreed, watching as Jake ducked to pick you up, wrapping your legs around his waist as the head of his cock sat nestled against your core. All he had to do was push himself in. “I'm going to hell for this aren’t I?” 

“Yes, yes you are because I’m so young and impressionable and easily manipulated into fucking much older, more experienced men that my dad would just love to smear across the tarmac if he found out what you were making me do—Ahh!” Jake didn’t appreciate your attitude, but instead of biting back, he slammed his length into you. “Fuck!” 

“You’re gonna get us caught if you don’t be quiet.” Jake groaned, kissing your collarbone as you whimpered in his arms. “Fuck you feel so good.” 

“Move, move!” You begged. “Jake move.” 

“Ah Ah, who am I?” Jake had already begun to pull back, painfully slow. He was waiting for you to say exactly what he wanted you to say before thrusting his hips back against you. “Who am I Lieutenant Iris Mitchell?” 

“You’re—“ At the sound of your whimpering Jake slammed back into you, bringing a hand up to cover your mouth as the shower stall wall he had you pressed against shook with the force he pounded into your with. Watching as your eyes rolled and you moaned out into the palm of Jake's hand before he let you speak. Fucking you slow and steady. “You’re Lieutenant Commander Seresin—“ 

“This is gonna be our little secret isn’t it?” Jake asked as he dug his fingertip into the flesh of your hips, needing it like dough. “Filthy fucking girl.” 

“I could ruin your life.” You remind Jake and that sends him flying towards an orgasm he couldn’t control. “I could ruin everything you’ve worked so hard to achieve, all I have to do is tell Mev that you fucked me in the men’s locker room before training and he’d have you—“ Jake fucked into your harder as you slipped a hand down between you, playing with your clit as you felt Jake loosing control. “Oh god! Don’t stop!” 

“I already know you’re gonna be the fucking death of me.” Jake groaned as he fucked you deep, using your pretty soaked pussy to get himself off. “Fuck, fuck, fuck you’re so tight—“ 

“I’m right with you—“ You babble, playing with yourself as Jake's hold on you tightens to a point you know where his fingertips are? they’ll leave bruises in their wake. “Jake, come inside me.” It’s what sends him barreling, he’s done for, he’s a goner, a fool. Jake groans and he kisses you deep and he feels his orgasm pooling at the base of his shaft before he’s spilling into you, feeling your cunt flutter around him as you meet him at the top. Coming with him just as there’s a knock on the shower door. 

“Iris!” It’s Rooster, he knows you're in there with Jake. “Mavs looking for you.” 

“Shit!” You groan, leaning your forehead against Jake's exposed chest as he’s letting you down slowly. “Crap I gotta go—“ 

“Hey.” Jakes tilting your chin up, looking into your eyes to see if he can spot even an ounce of regret. He can’t. “Tell me how you got your callsign?” 

“It’s an acronym.” You smile, biting your bottom lip as Rooster knocks on the shower door again. 

“Your literally gonna get the poor man killed Iris, get out of the fucking stall!” 

“What’s the acronym stand for?” Jake askes, not sure if he’s ready to hear it. You just beam up at him, kiss him softly and slowly and ever so seductively before you pull away. Crouching down to pick up your flight suit and throw it over your shoulder. Turning on your heels as you unlocked the shower door, opening it. 

“Oh god—“ Braldey closed his eyes as you stood there completely naked, your flight suit over your shoulder, panties and undershirt in your hand. “No, no, put some fucking clothes on—“ 

“Jesus Christ—“ Jake moves out of Roosters line of sight, he’s fully exposed as he cups his junk and looks at you like you're crazy as you look back at Jake over your shoulder, he’s trying not to stare at your ass. 

“Iris, it stands I Require Intense Supervision.” 

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~

[candycandy00]

Love + Potion - A Yami x Reader Fanfic

You work at a bar Yami frequents and so you’re nearby when he decides to try a potion that turns him into a werewolf for 24 hours. It also happens to make him extremely horny. 

Smut. 18+. Fem Reader. Yami becomes a werewolf. Oral sex. Regular sex. Size kink.

Dividers by @animatedglittergraphics-n-more and @drizztdohurtin.

“Another.”

You look up from the bar, where you’ve been wiping up spilled beer. A few seats down sits your favorite customer, Captain Yami of the Black Bulls. 

He comes to this tavern often, a few times a week unless he’s off on a particularly lengthy mission. When you began working here a year ago, you found him intimidating. He’s huge, he’s gruff, and his squad is rumored to include all sorts of ruffians and even criminals! But you quickly learned that Captain Yami is nothing like you expected. 

He’s never made trouble for you. He’s respectful even if his tone can be impolite. When he spills his drink, he actually cleans it up himself! He’s broken up several fights before they could damage the bar, and on the rare occasion he gets involved in a scuffle, he takes it outside to avoid causing problems. 

One night a drunk customer got irate and threw a glass at you. Yami caught it in midair before it could hit you. Another customer tried to get handsy with you, and Yami literally dragged the man out and tossed him on the street. Some nights, when he stays until closing time, he even walks you home.

You’ve never seen Yami dead drunk. Tipsy, yes. But actually drunk off his ass? Never. No matter how much he drinks. It must be a stamina thing, because it’s obvious that Yami has stamina for days. 

Sometimes you catch yourself wondering if he has that much stamina in the bedroom. 

Yami is an attractive man. It’s well known in the kingdom that several women have their eyes on him, but so far he seems oblivious to their interest. You know you have no shot with him if the powerful beauties around him haven’t been able to bag him. But still, it’s fun to entertain silly fantasies. 

Tonight, he’s laughing and enjoying himself as he talks with another patron, a potion maker who often boasts about the strange, magical concoctions he’s created. This time it’s a potion that turns a person into a werewolf for twenty-four hours. 

Yami doesn’t believe him. No one ever does. The man has bragged about lots of different potions but has never let anyone try them. 

“I’m telling you, it really works!” the man is saying. 

Yami claps him on the back as he takes another drink. “Sure, pal! Whatever you say!”

The man’s face reddens. “Fine! If you’re so sure it won’t work, why don’t you try it?”

Yami pauses, sitting down his drink and looking at the man. “You have it with you?”

The man nods, digging around in his leather bag and producing a clear glass bottle with an amber colored liquid inside. “Here it is! Drink it and apologize for doubting me!”

Yami picks up the bottle and examines the liquid. “You say it only lasts one day?”

“Yes! One full day! Then it wears off and you go back to normal.”

“What are the effects?” Yami asks, seeming more sober and focused now that he’s considering trying it. 

The potion maker straightens in his seat. “You’ll turn into a half man, half wolf. Your teeth with get sharper and your senses will be improved. You’ll probably crave some meat.”

“That doesn’t sound bad,” Yami says. Oh no. Is he actually going to try it? You think it’s a terrible idea, but it’s none of your business, so you keep quiet and listen. 

“Oh, and you might have the sudden desire to mate,” the man adds. 

You freeze, the rag going limp and still in your hand. Yami… wanting to mate? You glance over at him, curious about his reaction to that comment. 

“Will I still have control over myself?” he asks. “I’m not gonna hurt anyone, am I?”

The potion maker laughs. “Oh, of course! You’ll have complete control. It doesn’t affect your mind. Just your senses and instincts.”

Yami finishes off his drink then picks up the potion. He pulls out the wooden stopper and smells the liquid, then shrugs. “Bottom’s up.”

As you watch, Yami downs the amber liquid in one big gulp, then sits the empty bottle on the bar and wipes his mouth. “Tastes like shit,” he says, and starts to offer another comment before he suddenly groans and holds his stomach. 

You step closer. “Captain? Are you alright?”

He looks up at you and forces a grin, even though he appears to be in pain. “I’m fine. Just need… to go to the… restroom.”

Yami stands up and staggers toward the back. You’ve seen him hurry to the bathroom before, but not like this. He’s stumbling over chairs, crashing through the place like a literal bull. 

The door to the restroom slams shut, and the whole bar falls silent. Many of the other customers heard the conversation, and you see them whispering to those that seem confused. Before long, everyone in the bar is waiting to see the results of the potion. 

You hear Yami grunting and groaning from your spot behind the bar. Then he screams out in what sounds like pain. The scream morphs midway into an ear splitting howl, and a chill runs down your spine. What’s happened to your beloved customer?!

The door to the bathroom swings open, and Yami walks out. Under the lights of the bar, you can see the changes clearly. He’s a little taller, his hair a little longer, and there seems to be a thin coat of fine dark fur all over his exposed arms. His eyes are keener, taking on a blood red color with strangely shaped pupils. When he opens his mouth, you can see that his teeth are all razor sharp. 

A few people hoot and hollar, clapping and cheering. Yami grins at them. 

“How does it feel, Captain?” someone shouts. 

“It felt like hell for a minute there,” he says, and the crowd laughs. “But now? It feels pretty damn good!”

He makes his way back toward the bar, answering a few questions along the way and even letting a curious lady touch the fur of his arm. When he takes his usual seat, he looks at you and says, “Give me whatever you serve that has meat in it.”

“R-right away, Captain,” you say, flustered by the intensity of those red eyes. You serve him a pork roast sandwich, then watch as he devours it in seconds. 

“Are you really alright?” you ask him. 

His eyes shift to your face again, then slide down. He’s never looked at you this way before, not even once, but now his gaze seems to be lingering on your chest. 

“I’m good,” he says, eyes moving back to your face. 

The night wears on, with Yami drinking and ordering more meat dishes. He seems to be in good spirits, and even buys the potion maker a drink, an apology for doubting his work. 

The guests begin to thin out, and by midnight, only Yami and the potion maker remain. 

“It will wear off tomorrow, right?” Yami asks. 

The potion maker puffs out his chest. “Of course it will! My potions are perfect!”

With that, the man leaves, and Yami is the last person at the bar. Even the other employees have gone, leaving you to lock up the place. 

Yami glances at the clock on the wall. “About closing time, huh?”

You’re sweeping the floor, moving chairs as you go along. “As soon as I finish cleaning up,” you say. All night you’ve been feeling his eyes on you, seeming to track your every move. 

He leans over onto the bar. “I’m not lookin’ forward to going home. My squad’s gonna have a lot to say about this.”

You don’t look up from the floor. You’re afraid he’ll notice how flushed your face is. “Oh really?”

“I know a couple who are gonna freak out and call me reckless. At least one will want to fight me in this form. And a few will probably wanna pet me,” he adds with a laugh. 

Without thinking, you say, “Well your fur does look very soft, Captain.”

Oh no. Did you just say that? Out loud? You keep your back turned to him as you lower your head. 

“Wanna touch it?” 

You freeze at the sound of his voice. Slowly, your turn to look at him. Your eyes meet his, and they look… hungry. 

“Are you sure you don’t mind?” you ask, stepping closer. 

He holds out one arm toward you. “I’m sure.”

Hesitantly, you reach out and touch his arm, your fingertips brushing over the fur there. It feels like velvet, and soon your whole hand is rubbing his arm, from his shoulder to his wrist. You can feel the taut muscles beneath the silky fur, and you feel something within you tighten. 

“So?” he asks. “How is it?”

His eyes are locked on yours again. You swallow and say, “It’s as soft as it looks, Captain.”

“Yami. Call me Yami.”

Your hand is still on his arm. “Yami,” you repeat, feeling heat creep across your face. 

A moment passes between you, then you withdraw your hand. “If you really don’t want your squad to see you, just stay here tonight. There’s no bed but there’s a bench in the back.”

“You wouldn’t get in trouble, would you?” 

You smile. “I don’t think the owner would mind. It’d be like having the best security guard in the world for free.”

“Thanks,” he says. “I think I’ll do that.”

You take your time finishing up the cleaning, suddenly being in no hurry to leave. When you’re finally done, you walk back over to the bar. “The bench is in the back. I’ll show you before I leave.”

He looks at you, that same hunger in his eyes. “You’re not staying? I might get lonely.”

“Uh, well… I…”

He breaks eye contact and looks away. “Sorry. I don’t know what I’m sayin’. This damn potion is makin’ me act weird.”

“I don’t mind!” you blurt out, then instantly regret your honesty when he looks at you again. “I mean… I don’t mind staying here tonight and keeping you company,” you add, hoping he doesn’t pick up on your embarrassment. 

“Are you sure? You’re probably tired from workin’ all night.”

Ahh, his eyes are so intense right now. His voice is even deeper than usual. And you’re standing so close to him, you can feel his body heat. 

You can feel something else too. A growing wetness between your legs. 

“I’m positive,” you say. “How about another drink? Or another sandwich?” 

You start to step away, but his big hand catches your wrist. It’s a gentle grip, but it stops you in your tracks. He leans closer to you, and… sniffs? 

“You smell good,” he says. Then his eyes widen slightly, as if he’s just realizing something. He focuses on your face. “Are you…?” Then his eyes trail down your body, pausing below your waist. 

Wait, can he smell your arousal? When his eyes move back to yours, you know it’s true. The unfinished question lingers in the air between you, and his hand is still holding your wrist. You stare at him for a moment, mentally debating what you should do. You’ll probably never get another chance like this, to be alone with a horny Yami. How many women in the kingdom would give anything for an opportunity like this? 

So you decide to throw caution to the wind and go for it. You lean closer, locked in his gaze, and ever so slowly kiss his parted lips. He doesn’t pull away, which is a good sign. When you part from him, he says nothing at first, only lifts his cigarette to his mouth and takes a drag before putting it out in the nearby ashtray. After exhaling the smoke, he quickly pulls you closer and kisses you back. 

This kiss is different from the one you gave him. This is all heat and tongue and his free hand sliding into your hair. His fingers are tipped with sharp claws, but he’s being careful not to scratch you. 

You lean into him, your hands pawing at his thin white shirt, trying to drag it up. You’ve wanted to see him shirtless for as long as you’ve known him, and now you can’t get it off fast enough. 

He breaks the kiss long enough to slip the shirt over his head and drop it to the floor. His muscular chest is also coated in a thin layer of that velvety fur. It becomes thinner as it goes down his torso, becoming almost invisible by the time it hits his waist, save for a thicker, narrow patch trailing from his navel down to beneath his belt. Does it go all the way down? You can’t wait to find out. 

His hands move to the front of your dress, untying the laces of your simple corset. With it loosened, the fabric of the dress beneath it slips down, your breasts spilling out. Yami wastes no time squeezing one while his head dips down to take the other into his mouth, his lips sucking the tender nipple. 

You sigh in pleasure, one hand on his head, fingers raking through his hair. His touch is hot, burning with a desire you never thought you’d feel from him. One of his arms circles around your waist, holding you close, and you can smell a strong, woodsy musk. Yami’s scent. It’s intoxicating. 

He stands up from the stool and lifts you onto the bar so that you’re sitting on the edge, facing him, legs dangling. He pushes your dress up to your waist, then slides your modest white panties down, under your ass, and off your ankles. With them discarded, he parts your legs, and leans his face in. 

Yami devours your pussy the way he devoured the pork roast sandwiches, like he was starving, ravenous. His big, warm hands are on your thighs, holding them apart while his tongue laps at your dripping cunt. And when his lips wrap around your throbbing clit, you gasp and shudder, your hands flying to his shoulders to have something to grip. 

“Captain…” you moan out, then, in an even more breathless tone, “Y-Yami!”

It feels so good, you think you might simply dissolve into a pool of goo. He’s always seemed somewhat indifferent to women, so you assumed he wasn’t one of those playboys with tons of experience. But this is clearly not a man who has never pleasured a woman before. He’s too good at this, his tongue pressing into the exact spots that have your whole body jerking. 

When you cum, your thighs quivering in his grip, you find yourself squirting for the first time in your life. The intensity of the orgasm has you panting as Yami licks up every drop. 

You barely catch your breath before you notice Yami unbuckling his belt and opening his pants. You stare in anticipation as he pulls out a monstrously huge erection, leaking from the tip and seeming to twitch in his hand. You’re already drenched, slick with your fluids and Yami’s saliva, but taking his cock is going to be a challenge. 

Is it so big because he’s a werewolf now? Or is it always like this? Either way, you spread your legs even wider and lean back on your elbows, looking up at him expectantly. 

He grins at you. “Think you can take it?”

You smile back at him. “If not, I’ll surpass my limits,” you say, using the phrase he was famous for in the kingdom. 

He laughs heartily, then leans over you. “Ready?”

You nod, your heart racing with excitement. With his improved senses, he can probably hear it. He definitely hears your breath catching as he begins sliding his cock inside you. 

He goes slowly, carefully, giving your body time to stretch and accommodate him. You feel so full already and he’s only halfway in, but you weren’t kidding about surpassing your limits. You want him all the way inside you. 

Your legs wrap around him, pulling him closer, you slick pussy drawing him further in. God, he’s so big, so warm, you want to stay like this forever. He grunts as he finally bottoms out, his tip smushed against your cervix in a satisfying way. 

For a moment, he doesn’t move, as if he just wants to enjoy the feeling of being fully sheathed inside you, of your soft, slippery warmth wrapped around him. 

Then, he begins lightly thrusting into you, watching your face for your reaction. When you cry out in pleasure, reaching up and throwing your arms around his neck, his thrusts become deeper, harder. 

You can feel his fine fur rubbing against your bare chest, and it drives you wild. You bury your face in his neck, whimpering his name as he pounds into you, your body nearly lifting from the bar with each thrust. 

He’s breathing hard, a sheen of sweat on the parts of his skin not covered in fur, intensifying his scent. You want it to seep into your skin and mark you forever as his. His toned abdomen, with its trail of soft hair, is rubbing your body, creating the friction you crave, making your breaths come shuddering and rapid. 

With a loud cry, you climax again. Your entire body, from your arms to your legs to your silky pussy, clenches him tightly. He fucks you through it, his own muscles seeming to spasm as he suddenly groans and plunges in deep. He stays that way, absolutely buried inside you as he cums, shooting his entire hot load directly into your core. 

For several moments, the two of you remain tangled together. Then you slowly separate. He helps you down from the bar and you stand on shaky legs, not moving until you feel steady. 

Quietly, the two of you clean up, and you pour Yami another drink. 

“I hope I’m still welcome here tomorrow night,” he says, seeming just a little awkward as he lights another cigarette. 

“Of course you are!” you tell him. “You’re my favorite customer!”

He looks at you and smiles. “Oh? That’s funny. I come here all the time because you’re my favorite bartender!”

You laugh at that remark, thinking you’ll have to thank the potion maker the next time you see him. His werewolf potion may as well have been a love potion! 

[beyourlightbaby]

Thank My Lucky Stars

Pairing: bts ot7 × fem reader

Word Count: 2,685

Summary: You're on your period and the boys do everything they can to make you feel better.

Warnings: mentions of menstrual cycle (I honestly dk if periods need warnings? But better safe than sorry), menstrual cramps, reader goes through extreme mood swings but mostly just fluff.

A/N: Honestly, I started my period two days ago and was wishing that I had a bf to take care of me and stuff, and the next thing I knew, this fic wrote itself. It's definitely very self-indulgent lol, and basically everything the reader does is what I've did so far lmao. I hope this fic makes you atleast half as happy as it made me! P.S. It's been a ridiculously long time since I've written, and it's my first time writing for bangtan, so go easy on me!

Today was just another day. You wake up from your bed, feeling fatigued. Ugh, why does my body ache all over, you think to yourself, getting up from the bed as you stretch. You feel the tell tale sign of cramps in your abdomen, but dismiss it immediately, as your period wasn't due for the next two weeks. You brush your teeth and wander out of your room mindlessly, wondering what the boys were up to.

You find Taehyung in the living room, watching TV. “Good morning,” he says with a smile as you flop down on the couch next to him. “morning,” you grunt back. Taehyung, being the cuddly person he is, wraps his arm around you like he usually does, only for you to shrug him off. “Aw, why won't you let me hold you?” he whines, pouting at you. “Sorry Tae, but I'm not feeling good.” “Then it's the perfect time for cuddles! It's bound to make you feel better! C’mere” he says as he drapes himself over you again but you end up wrenching himself out of his grip, looking mad. “I said I wasn't in the mood for cuddles, Taehyung!” You yell at him. Taehyung flinches and looks hurt. Realising what you just did, you thought to yourself, Damn, why did I just snap at Tae like that? He didn't do anything wrong, he was just being his usual self. What's wrong with me? “Tae, I'm sorry-” but before you could finish your sentence Taehyung runs off to his room and slams it shut. You smack yourself for hurting Tae as you slumped back onto the couch.

You just sit there for a while until Hobi tapped you on your shoulder. “Y/N-ah?” You snap out of your thoughts.“What?” you bark at him. “Are you feeling alright?” “Why wouldn't I be?” you ask, slightly irate. “It's just that I went to your room and saw the covers stained.” he says softly. Oh. That's why I've been testy all morning. But it wasn't supposed to arrive until two weeks later! Ugh, I hate this. “I know that you would have cleaned it up already if you had noticed, but since you didn't, I'm assuming you didn't see.” “Yeah” you looked down, embarrassed. “Sorry you had to see that.” Hobi lifts up your chin. “Hey, don't apologise. It's just your period, something which you naturally go through. You don't have to feel bad about it, okay?” You nod. “Good. Now you should probably freshen up. Go to the bathroom, I'll bring you some clothes and a pad. Which one do you need?” “I can get it myself-” Hobi shushes you. “Shower. Now. I'll get you what you need.” “Oh-kaayyyyyy bossy pants.” You give him a mock salute before walking off. He smiles at you, relieved that your period hasn't ruined your sense of humour.

In the bathroom, you turn on the shower and let it wash away all your worries, sighing appreciatively at how good the hot water felt against you. Then you hear a knock. “Y/N? I brought you your stuff.” You momentarily turn off the shower and slightly open the door, to reveal Hobi holding out your clothes, his face promptly averted from the door. You retrieve them from his hand. “Thank you Hobi!” you say and move to close the door, but he stops you. “Wait! You didn't tell me which pad you wanted, and you didn't have any left in your supply either, so I just bought a pack in every variant from your usual brand.” He says, and holds out a bag filled with pad packs of varying types. You find yourself internally going awww at his thoughtfulness, and after picking out what you need, you call out to him. “Hobi?” “Yeah?” “You're the best.” “Aw, it's nothing, Y/N. Now go shower!” He says and runs off, leaving you giggling in his wake.

After a nice hot shower, you change into a comfy hoodie and shorts, feeling significantly better than you did before. But that exact moment your cramps decide to hit you. “Ughhhhh”, you lean against the wall with a groan. Jungkook, who just woke up, spots you and rushes to support you. “Y/N! What happened? Are you alright?” he asks concernedly, wrapping his arms around your shoulders to steady you. “nnnnghhh. Period. Cramps.” you manage to croak out. “Oh no, that sucks,” he says as he gingerly picks you up. “Where do you wanna go?” “Room” you say, and bury your face in his chest. He slowly walks to your room, gently placing you on your bed and tucking you tightly under the covers. As he turns to leave, you grab his hand. “Stay, please? I don't wanna be alone.” He gives you a reassuring smile as he lies down next to you, gently rubbing your back, lulling you slowly to sleep.

You wake up to someone softly pushing your hair out of your face. Blinking open your eyes, you realise it's Jimin. “Hey. Did I wake you up?” “Yeah, but I don't mind. What's the time?” “About 11, I guess.” He kisses your forehead softly. “How are you feeling now?” “A little better, but still sore.” Jimin looks at you sadly, bummed that he can't do anything that'll make your pain go away. But he can distract you from it.

“I brought you something.” He holds out a box that you recognise as one from your favourite bakery. Your eyes light up in delight. “Hobi hyung told me you didn't have breakfast, so I got you your favourite black forest cake.” He opens the box and picking off a piece with a fork, he offers it to you. You eagerly open your mouth and chew it, suddenly realising that you were hungry. He feeds you about two pieces before declaring that was enough or else you wouldn't eat lunch. He wipes away the cake crumbs from your lips and grins widely at the content smile on your face. “What are you grinning at?” you ask him. “Nothing, it's just…. I like seeing you smile.” You blush and duck your head, feeling shy. “I love you, Chim.” you mumble softly. “I love you too, Y/N-ah.” He brings his forehead to yours, booping your nose softly with his.

“Y/N? Are you awake?” You recognise Tae’s voice. “Come in!” Taehyung shuffles into the room, looking uncharacteristically hesitant. Before he could say anything, you start, “Tae, I'm so sorry for snapping at you like that. I swear didn't mean to-” he cuts you off mid sentence by planting a soft kiss on your lips. “It's alright, Jungkookie told me. I understand. You don't have to apologise.” You shake your head. “I do, though. You were hurt and it's my fault. I feel bad about it. Can you forgive me, please?” He giggles, and pats your head. “There's nothing to forgive, silly. I'm not mad at you. I am claiming my cuddles though, Jungkook told me you let him hold you!” You chuckle, “Come here, you big baby.” He moves to get into the bed before stopping. “Oh crap, I forgot why I came here. Jin hyung told me to ask you if you wanna come for lunch or if he should bring it to you. What do you say?” You think for a moment before replying. “You know what, I'm kinda bored of sitting in my room. I'll come! Just gimme a few, I wanna make myself presentable.” Taehyung gives you a once-over. “What do you mean, presentable? You look pretty as always.” “Oh yeah, my ridiculous bedhead and baggy eyes are soooo pretty.” “I don't care, you still look pretty.” You realise he isn't just saying that to make you feel better, but rather that's how you look in his eyes, and your heart melts. “Okay fine, I'm coming. At least let me use the restroom.”

You trudge slowly through the house, Taehyung's hand around your back. Everyone else except Jin is already seated at the table, apparently waiting for you. Their concern is evident in their eyes, but they seem to be content with Taehyung walking with you, so they remain seated.

You settle down in your chair, which you find has some soft pillows placed on it. You look around the table to find Yoongi looking away as soon as you meet his eyes, cheeks turning just a little pink. You smile to yourself, not saying anything. At that moment, Jin comes from the kitchen, bringing out various dishes and sets them on the table, giving you a comforting smile. You catch a whiff of your favourite dishes: kimchi jjigae, samgyeopsal, japchae, fried chicken, along with a pint of chocolate ice cream. “Oh, Jin, you shouldn't have troubled yourself so much!” Jin just smirked. “What makes you think it’s for you? Maybe I just wanted to cook a nice meal.” You pout at him, which makes him chuckle. “Of course I was joking, Y/N-ie. They were specially made for you.” he says with a comforting smile. You sniff slightly, which didn't go unnoticed. Jin, after sitting next to you, places a hand over your thigh and gives it a soft squeeze as if to say, “You're never alone.” You push back the tears and give him a smile. He heaps a good amount of all the dishes on your plate, handing it to you with a wink. You immediately dig into the food, sighing at how delicious they are. “It's official. I think Jin might be my favourite. He surely knows the way to my heart.” you exclaim, only half-joking. You certainly didn't miss the way his ears turned a bright red, a telltale sign that he is flustered. The others pretend to clutch their chest in offence, and you just laugh at them.

After a wonderfully fulfilling lunch, you settle on the couch once more, only to groan when cramps hit you again. “Aish, why does it hurt so much?” you accidentally voice your thoughts out loud. Yoongi, who hears it, fetches some more pillows to place them around so that you can sit down more comfortably. Before you could tell him to sit with you, he walks off. You sigh softly, knowing that he isn't big on openly showing affection. You're surprised though, when you feel someone tap your shoulder, and turn around to find Yoongi. “Hey.” “Hey yourself.”

“I thought this might help with the pain, so I brought you this.” He hands you a hot water bottle. You smile at him, realising that he'd rather show you his love through his actions rather than just being all lovey-dovey. “Thank you, Yoongi.” You wrap your arms around his neck, at which he turns slightly pink, but he hugs you back all the same. “Can I sit with you for a while?” he asked, rubbing his neck. “I thought you'd never ask.” You pull him down onto the couch, leaning into his side.

A few hours later, after Yoongi left, saying that ‘his affection quota for the day has been deplenished’, you are staring into space, debating whether you should go back to bed, when Namjoon walks into the living room, holding a steaming cup of what seems to be chai, guessing from the aroma wafting towards you. “Hey! How come I'm the one who's sick, yet you're the one who gets chai? So not fair!” you say, giving him sad puppy dog eyes. You definitely didn't expect him to stop before you and hand you the cup. “If you had just waited a moment before jumping to conclusions, Y/N-ah, you would have realised that I made this chai for you!” Your eyes widen. “Are you telling me that, you, Kim Namjoon, cooked something, without setting the entire kitchen on fire?!” “Hey!” he looks chagrined, and gives you a soft punch on your arm. “Is that so hard to believe?” he asks. When you just raise your eyebrows in response, he relents. “Fiiiiine, I might have had a little help, but it was my idea, and I did do most of the work! And anyway, it's the thought that counts, right?” “....riiiight. I do appreciate the chai, though.” You take the cup from his hands and take a small, careful sip. “Ahhhh, you definitely did a good job Joon, I love it.” He flashes you his usual dimpled smile, which never fails to set your heart fluttering. You pat the seat next to you. “Sit with me?” “I will, but there's something I have to take care of first,” he says and walks away. You look after him quizzically, wondering what he could have meant.

Moments later, he returns with a couple of blankets, and your favourite book. He plops down next to you, and you automatically rest your head on his lap. He pulls the blankets around you, wrapping you like a burrito. Once he makes sure you're all settled, he starts reading the book out aloud. As much as you loved reading on your own, listening to Namjoon read, in his comforting voice, is something you never get tired of. He softly plays with your hair, just the way you like it, as he reads through the book. You purr like a content cat, feeling warm and satisfied, slowly falling asleep.

When you wake up, it's late in the evening, and you find yourself sandwiched comfortably between Hobi, on whose shoulder your head is resting, and Jin, who's softly massaging your feet. Yoongi and Namjoon are sprawled on either side of Jin and Hobi respectively, eyes glued to the television, but both their hands behind you. You look down to find Taehyung squished between your legs. I guess he claimed that cuddle after all. Jungkook and Jimin rest on either of your knees, fighting with Tae for space.

You look around at them and your heart feels like it might burst out of your chest because you don't know what you must have done in your previous life to find these seven men. You start sniffling without realising, and before long, tears start streaming down your face. Jin notices and immediately wipes away your tears, looking concerned. “Love, what happened? Does it hurt too much?” The rest of the guys turn towards you immediately, their features etched with worry. “I know you usually avoid pills, Y/N, but do you need some right now? They could help.” Namjoon offers. “Maybe you just need another hot water bottle.” Yoongi moves to go to the kitchen but stops when you grab his wrist. “No, no, I feel good and all, it's not that. I'm just…so happy.”

“Eh? Why are you crying then?” Taehyung asks, confused. You sniff, unable to look at them. “It's just, you guys are so unbelievably sweet and loving! No one has ever taken such good care of me before, especially during my period, so I'm a bit overwhelmed, but in a good way. I just don't know what I did to deserve such amazing and wonderful, not one, but seven boyfriends. I don't even deserve you guys.” you start crying all over again.

“Hey, hey, hey,” Hobi rubs your shoulder soothingly. “Don't ever think that you're not worth all this, okay? You deserve everything, sunshine. You're the most beautiful, gentle, kind and caring person we've met, and frankly, we don't know how you manage to put up with all of our chaos!”

“Yes, Y/N, hyung is right! We are the lucky ones!” Jungkook exclaimed, giving you his doe eyes and bunny smile.

“We love you so much, Y/N-ah. Don't you ever forget that.” says Jimin, as he places a kiss on your thigh.

“I love you guys too. So much. You have no idea how much.”

“Oh, I think we have some idea,” Tae says, giving you his signature wink as you laugh and pull all of them into a huge cuddle. You close your eyes and savour the feeling of being surrounded by your loved ones, and thank your lucky stars for bringing them to you.

[crookedkryptonitebeliever]

So Yves doesn't like children, but what about Blanche? Would he be willing to have a child with Reader? If so, I bet he would be very loving and gentle. he would knit baby clothes with the reader and talk about the names he liked.

Anyway, I love your work! I reload your tumblr page every day to see Blanche's content, I want to bite him and eat him with love. I love Monty too! Since your post about what he would be like with kids, I've had baby fever.

Have a nice day! <3

Yes, that is true. Blanche would definitely be very loving and gentle. Perhaps a bit nervous and awkward at first, but he quickly becomes an excellent parent passing on wonderful morals. Yet it feels like something is wrong.

His arms are wide enough to fit the two of you, you would be holding your child while sitting on his lap, as Blanche sways the rocking chair back and forth. Occasionally pressing kisses on your forehead and the baby's.

The mortar and pestle would be out a lot more. As he doesn't have a food processor, Blanche would be making all the baby food by hand, grinding and pounding it down with strenuous love. The child will only eat the most nutritious produce from his garden. Blanche will take note of their likes and dislikes, so he knew which one to plant more of.

The sound of a baby crying may be grating, but never to Blanche. He would simply pick them up and coo until they stopped, or let them babble happily because Daddy is there to comfort them. Oddly, he never got irate due to lack of sleep or personal time. Unlike you, Blanche doesn't necessarily need that.

Unfortunately for you, Blanche would be guilt-tripping you a lot more to stay for longer. You wouldn't need to do most of the hard work anyway, but say goodbye to your social life, as you will have to be with him and the baby 24/7. You wouldn't have to do anything, though. Blanche would cook, clean, and give you backrubs all while caring for the child so much that it wouldn't cry, as it's always smiling and content.

More often than not, you would feel bad. Or get frustrated at the speed at which he's moving. So you would take over his chores and tell him to focus on the child. Blanche would refuse, choosing to hover near you while bouncing the baby up and down in his arms. He wanted to be with the love of his life and his giggling blessing as much as possible.

He would be wearing that baby sling until your child is old enough to move around on their own. Then, it would be retired to the "Chest of Love and Memories" in the shared bedroom.

All their clothes would be handmade, and Blanche would lovingly embroider their name onto them while humming the tune they seemed to like. The same goes for the toys, he would make sure it's safe and age-appropriate. His whittling knife would be out a lot more, but not around the baby.

He would name his children based on flowers such as Rose and Marigold, bringing out a book about botany from his Box of Jolly and Joy, telling you all the names he found beautiful and fitting towards the bundle of joy that is about to be.

Blanche will instill patience, love, and calmness in the child. He leads by example by never being aggressive, loud, or unpleasant, he punishes them firmly yet lovingly. You're just glad they grew up to be mild and mellow, unlike other teenagers who seem to rebel if their parents are too much of a pushover or too much of a stuffy jerk. Your child would strangely prioritize your needs and wants over anyone else's, not even their own. While it's sweet, it is a bit concerning. It's as if Blanche has trained them to devote their lives to serving you, and you only.

Your husband is always present, maybe even too present. You couldn't remember the last time you didn't see or hear Blanche and your child around. Although it's warm and fuzzy to constantly have them around, spending time with you, sharing laughs, cuddling, and bonding tightly, it's undeniable that they're driving you crazy. The three of you are always together if you're not working, Blanche makes sure of it.

If you are holding down a job, your husband and your kid will try everything under the sun to get you to be with them 24/7. They will cling onto you and you will not shake them off no matter what.

Blanche isn't very keen on letting the child go to school, preferring to teach them everything himself with the help of books, exploration, and real-life applications. Your husband would beg to keep them homeschooled, Blanche is an excellent teacher and he can prove it; especially when you realize that your child's vast knowledge in language, arts, mathematics, and science rivaled that of a 50-year-old when they're only 8. When you put them into the public schooling system against Blanche's wishes, your husband would burst into tears, fearing that his child would go through the same levels of bullying he did.

While your child excelled in every class, and every subject and became the favorite of all the teachers, they were alienated by their peers, just like how their father was. At least they're not beating him up like how they did to Blanche in his youth. But still, Blanche would continuously pressure you to pull them out of the education system, trying to convince you that it isn't required for your child to be in this environment. The three of you could live together in the woods, isolated and in bliss.

Your child agreed too. They could not determine what would make their classmates want to be friends. They tried and tried until they were tired, your child wanted nothing but to go back home to their family.

They're so mature, so much more beyond their years that it's unbelievable. It's almost like the fact that parenthood can be hard, painful, and ugly is a myth. They have never acted out, never been disrespectful, always heed your words, and never had to go to you for help on normal teenage things. It's like another mini Blanche was instantly birthed, it's so very eerie.

And you knew that it has everything to do with your husband's way of bringing them up. He's with them every waking and slumbering second of the day, they're inseparable and always working as a unit to care for you.