#as is witnessing someone else being hurt and not being able to do anything

[crumbleclub]

one-shot for @lonelyfreddles dream theory revamp au, except i destroyed any semblance of a timeline to make this interaction possible

Footsteps fell quietly against shag carpet. The caution with which he carried himself was deeply ingrained; it told him to be smaller, quieter, and escape notice at every opportunity.

Sometimes, he wondered if his life depended on it.

Evan had one goal in mind: a cold glass of apple juice.

Father wasn't home. He hadn't been home all week, actually. Evan had been told ahead of time, for once; the man had rattled off something about a meeting, or a conference or... something, but his words hadn't made much sense. He'd been frazzled at the time; rambling and agitated, as he often was these days. The behavior was odd enough for Evan to note, but he knew better than to question William directly.

Normally, Evan and Michael would have been left home alone. They were old enough, after all. They'd been old enough for as long as Evan could remember.

This time was different, though; Henry was coming to look after them. It was a precaution, Father had said. He hadn't seemed very happy about it, and Evan didn't think it was his idea. It didn't matter, though; Henry was nice, and Evan hadn't seen him in a long time. He was happy to hear that the man would be around.

Michael hadn't been home for very long, yet. He'd only been in the hospital for a week or so, but he'd had to stay in another place for a few. Evan wasn't sure what it was actually called– Father had called it the looney bin, but he knew that wasn't right– but it hadn't seemed so bad when he'd gotten the chance to go visit. Mikey had seemed healthier there than he had in the hospital.

Evan had jumped at the chance to go see him. Of course he had. He needed to see him; to see that he was still real and still here. He didn't want his brother to die. Evan had been so scared when—

His hands were red the towels were red red red red the voice on the other line said to keep him awake they said they said—

Evan felt tears starting to well in his eyes, and he wiped at them with his sleeve. He didn't need to do this right now. He needed to get his drink first, and then he could go cry in his room. It felt good to cry, sometimes; to let things out, even if the kids at school teased him for it.

There was no use in getting rid of something that obviously helped. He'd just have to hide it as best as he could.

His steps continued again; past the grandfather clock, into the living room. He'd get his juice, go back to his room, and hang out there for a while. It was going to be fine; everything would be fine.

Michael hadn't scared him since he'd been back home; Evan thought it might have been because he still didn't feel very good. Why did Mikey want to die?

Still, Evan checked underneath the sofa; behind the TV.

No Michael.

He pressed on towards the kitchen, but stopped when he heard voices.

Evan recognized his brother's first. He heard Michael almost every day; his voice was higher than most men's, and accented, just like Father's. Unlike their dad's, though, Michael's voice was quiet, and he dragged his words. William's speech was much more clipped.

The other voice, low and clear, was Henry's.

"You can't keep acting like this, Michael."

"Yeah, well, why not?!"

Mikey wasn't quite shouting, but his voice was louder than normal. Was he in trouble?

Evan paused to listen.

"You know it doesn't help to keep egging him on like this."

Michael laughed, but something about it was wrong. The sound was short, sharp, and almost shaky. Evan thought he'd heard him laugh like that before, but he couldn't place where.

"There it is again. You know." There was a pause. "That's the worst part. You know exactly what he's like, and you don't do shit."

Evan wandered closer to the door; he wanted to hear what they were talking about.

"Michael..." Henry's sigh was barely audible from the other room, muffled through wood and paint. "Language."

His last remark felt strange. Evan furrowed his brow; he didn't think that had been what Henry really wanted to say.

"Fucking really?!"

Evan flinched back. Michael was angry.

He took a deep breath.

It was going to be okay. Mike wasn't angry with Evan; he didn't even know his younger brother was nearby. Nobody was going to hurt him, and everything was going to be fine.

Evan didn't think he'd ever seen Henry angry. He hoped he wouldn't snap and hurt Mike, the way that Father did. Evan hated that, even when Michael had been especially cruel to him. Something was wrong with the way it made his brother stiffen and cry, even when it was just words. Sometimes, Evan thought, the words hurt the worst.

"I'm just trying to keep things from getting any worse."

Henry's tone was insistent, but Michael was having none of it.

"Keep it from–" The teenager cut himself off, steadying his breath to keep from shouting. "You could have stopped it from happening in the first place, Uncle Henry."

He spat the man's name. Evan wasn't sure if he'd ever heard him sound so...

Evan didn't have a name for that emotion, he didn't think. It wasn't anger; his brother sounded hurt, he recognized, but there was something else. Disgust, maybe?

"Michael..."

"You could stop it now." The pace of Michael's speech picked up again, his tone rising. "We still live here. He's mad at me for this, you know that?"

Silence.

When Mikey spoke again, his voice was becoming frantic.

"Don't you believe me, Henry?" Evan could hear the sound of fabric rustling. "Do you see this? Do you think this was an accident, too?"

Evan froze.

His mouth was dry; something in his chest felt cold. He suppressed the urge to shiver.

They were talking about Father.

Evan hadn't seen it happen, this time, but he'd heard Michael crying. Michael hardly ever cried.

He lost track of the conversation for a moment, falling into his own thoughts. Evan knew that Father would be livid if he knew one of the boys was talking about the way he could be sometimes; he had a reputation to uphold, after all, and the way a man raised his children was nobody else's business. The idea that Mikey might have actually talked to anyone about it was alien to him.

"You know," he'd said, but that couldn't be right.

Henry wouldn't ever hurt them, Evan didn't think. Maybe hitting sometimes was okay, but he'd definitely intervene if he saw it get really bad...

Right?

Henry's voice pulled him back.

"–sorry, Michael."

"Then do something!" Michael was yelling now; every breath came short and quick. A small collision sounded; a noise Evan easily recognized as someone's hand being smacked away.

Mikey didn't like to be touched. He knew that sound very well.

Evan felt his cheeks burn, tears brimming. The turmoil taking place in the next room was overwhelming, and he felt it bleeding into him with each word that was spoken.

He made no move to leave, though. He couldn't.

He needed to know.

It was quiet for a little while.

Sometimes, Henry would start to speak, but stop before getting any words out. Evan wondered if he was struggling with what he wanted to say.

It seemed like ages before he really spoke again.

"Mikey, you know I can't do that."

Evan dropped everything, looking up at the door in disbelief.

Henry did know.

He knew, and he...

He didn't do anything.

Henry left them there.

Evan felt sick to his stomach.

Maybe he just needed a moment to process it. Sure, he wasn't always certain what was normal and what wasn't, but it had been bad enough for Mike to reach out for help, right? It had been bad enough to make Evan cry himself to sleep every night. It left scrapes and bruises, and, sometimes, it was too bad for either brother to even talk about.

It had been bad enough that Mikey had wanted to die.

Evan wasn't feeling very thirsty anymore. He turned to leave; to run back to his room and never, ever look at Henry the same way again.

As he left, he heard a sob echo from behind.

[l1tw1ck]

In Exchange

Sub!Bottom!FTM Sam Winchester x Dom!Top!Male Reader

☆ Word Count: 3,617 ☆

AFAB Language Used

blacked out every time i wrote this like jekyll and hyde 😭 /j

CW: Non-Con, Sexual Coercion, Drugging, Blowjob, Cum Swallowing, Creampie, Pregnancy Mention, Masturbation, Cunnilingus, Puppy Play (Collar, Puppy Sam), Nipple Sucking, Riding, Corruption

“Excuse me, are you [Name]?” Sam walks up to you as you're smoking outside a bar.

“What's it to you?”

“I’m Joseph Johnson. I'm a detective.” Sam shows you his badge just long enough for you to believe him. “I’d like to ask you some questions about the recent incident.”

“Then you’d better give up and ask someone else.”

Sam looks at you in dismay. “You're the only living witness, we won't be able to get anywhere without you!”

“I’m not sharing anything without something in return.”

He perks up. “I've got about 60 buc-”

“I'm not looking for money. I want you to get on your knees and give me a blowjob.”

He looks at you in shock. “Are you serious?”

“Completely. Make your choice, Sherlock.”

There is no choice. He needs this information in order to save the town. He has to do it. “Fine…Just don't make me swallow.”

You stub out your cigarette. “You're not in a position to make demands, sweetheart. You're gonna swallow it if you want me to talk.”

Chills run down his spine. You're so assertive, it's…..sexy. He almost slaps himself. He lets out a big sigh. “Okay.”

You smile. “Hold on.” You enter the bar and come out a few minutes later with a bottle of beer. It's already been opened. That makes Sam suspicious but in your defense, he doesn't have a bottle opener on him. Against his better judgment, he chugs the bottle.

He notices the chilling grin on your face but hopes it's not because you drugged him. You lead him to a secluded alleyway. “Kneel.” You unbuckle your belt.

“Here? Are you serious?”

“Didn't you hear me, pretty boy? Kneel.”

Sam frowns and gets down on his knees. He gulps upon seeing your hard cock. He’s never seen one in real life before, after all, he's never gone far enough for that.

“Open wide.” You tug on his hair. He looks at you with contempt but opens his mouth anyways. The feeling of your cock entering his mouth is completely foreign. It's way different than sucking on a popsicle or some other iced treat. It’s warm and pulsing. And it's thick, so thick his jaw hurts. “As I thought, you look much better with my cock stuffed in your mouth.”

Sam shivers. He can't believe that turned him on. His body suddenly begins to rise in temperature, as if he's come down with a fever. You don't seem to care about his reddening face as you slowly drag him back and forth on your cock. He stops worrying about it, even as he starts to feel more aroused than he should. He just closes his eyes and discreetly ruts against his hand as you do all the work for him. He feels so wet that his slick is probably bleeding through his underwear. He desperately needs to touch himself but he's sober enough to feel embarrassed about doing so. It's so hard for him to feel pleasure through his pants that he's started whimpering. You don't know why he's doing that but you're not complaining about the new sensation you're feeling.

“Shit- I’m already gonna come-” You moan. “Your mouth is amazing, sweetheart, you're better off selling it than being a detective.”

Sam moans as you come in his mouth. His mind is so hazy and high on whatever you drugged him with that he actually feels happy to swallow your seed. He’s completely out of his mind.

You pull him away from your cock and pry open his mouth with your thumb to make sure he's swallowed everything. “Good boy.”

He looks at you almost demurely.

“It’d be a shame to stop here, don't you think?” You run your fingers through his hair. The drug seems to have kicked in completely so you know he’ll agree.

“Mhm..”

“It’d be nice if I could fuck that sweet ass of yours...”

“Not there...” He shakes his head.

“Why not? I’d make you feel real good.”

“Isn't my pussy better?” Sam smiles, unbuckling his belt.

“It definitely is.” You smirk.

Sam shakily gets up on his feet and drops his pants and boxers to his ankles. He walks over to the wall and bends over, giving you a drunken smile. You look at his pussy and feel your cock immediately come back to life. He's so wet that his slick is on the inner corner of his thighs. You can't wait to dive into that.

You stick two of your fingers inside him, not caring for how that makes him feel, and explore his insides. He's soft, warm, and oh so fucking wet. Sam moans, too drugged to consider the fact that he's in public.

“Th- there!” His voice and legs are shaking. “Yes-yes-yes–”

“Already gonna come, darling?” You find his g-spot and immediately cause him to squirt. You watch in awe, painfully hard thanks to this mesmerizing display. You pull your fingers out and slowly inch your cock inside him. “Sorry, I just couldn't wait any longer. You don't mind, right, baby?”

Sam moans, eyes half lidded. “Mm- deeper~”

“The drug’s really changed you…or maybe it's just allowed your real personality to show?” You smirk, going deeper as he requested. “I might have to keep drugging you if it means I can fuck this sweet pussy of yours.”

He shivers, leaning further against the wall as you make him experience his pussy stretching to accommodate your girth for the first time. “Bi- big~” He bites his lip, absolutely blissed out.

“You like how big I am? Or how good your cunt feels stretching to fit me?”

“Ye- yes~ so good~” He answers both of your questions. “My pussy feels so good, [Name]~”

“Yeah? I’ll make it feel even better.” Once you bottom out you start fucking him at a rough pace. The warm and slippery feeling of his cunt is making you too aroused to control yourself. You cover Sam’s mouth with your hand, knowing he won't even try to keep quiet. Your hand quickly becomes drenched with his saliva, a constant vibration thanks to Sam moaning. You can still hear his moans, albeit muffled, but at a much better level that suits your location. “You're such a good boy, you know? Taking my cock so fucking well. If we were at my place, I’d be happy to hear you moan.”

Sam’s body reacts to being called a good boy, his cunt clenching around you once again.

“I wish I could have you, a cute puppy like you should have an owner. Although, I don't know if I have the strength to actually let you go.” You pull down the collar from the back of his shirt and bite him, making a mark that’s sure to last a while. You can tell just by hearing him and feeling the way his cunt reacts that he liked that. “How about you touch yourself for me, pup? I want you to feel extra good.”

Sam brings his hand down to his t-dick, gently stroking himself and accelerating the amount of time it’ll take him to have an orgasm.

“Look at you, following orders so well.”

He whimpers in response.

“You’d be better off belonging to me than some agency, don't you think?” You move your hand away from his mouth.

“Ye- yes- wanna be yours!” He moans, squirting again on your cock. In his current state of mind, he feels overjoyed at the idea of abandoning his dangerous “career” for a life full of pleasure and submission. He won't have to think or put his life on the line anymore. Right now, he doesn't have the ability to think rationally and being your dog is all he wants. “Tak- take me! I wanna be your puppy~!”

You bury your head in his shoulder, slowing down. “I’ll hold you to that. Gonna make sure you can't change your mind and leave me.” You come inside of him despite knowing he wouldn't want this if he was sober. At this point you don't care what he thinks, you just want him. Maybe the whiskey you had earlier is finally getting to you...

Sam wakes up on his motel bed, feeling something inside his underwear, a painful feeling in his neck, and a sharp headache. He closes his eyes and tries to recall what happened last night. He soon starts to remember everything, even after the drug kicked in. He should be angry but he isn't. He's horny. He sits up on the bed and looks around.

“Dean?” He calls out. No response. He leans back and brings his hand into his pants, sliding his index and middle finger down his slick cunt. He feels your cum and pushes it back inside him, fingering himself with your cum. He doesn't want to get pregnant but he can't help himself. Just doing this makes him so horny…He feels like a perv.

Sam leans back and moans, feeling extra sensitive. He remembers how you made him squirt for the first time and how it’d probably feel even more amazing if he could do it sober. He starts to think about all the compliments you gave him and how you wanted to make him yours. He knows he should be focusing on hunting, especially because of his powers, but he can't help but yearn for a safe life with you. He doesn't even really know you. He did a background check on you but he didn't look at anything that would’ve given him any information about your personality. He can't believe that a one night with you is making him feel like this. Making him want to relinquish his autonomy to a stranger.

He murmurs your name, absolutely enamored with you. Are you even human? You have to have some special power to make him so infatuated with you. Right?

Before he can reach his climax, the sound of the doorknob twisting stops him. Sam quickly takes out his hand and rubs it on his clothes. Dean opens up the door and immediately looks at Sam.

“Where the hell were you last night? And why are you in the same clothes?”

“I- I uh…got drunk.” He looks at him sheepishly.

“Why?!”

“[Name] didn't want to talk unless I won a drinking game…I won.”

Dean looks surprised. “That guy must be even more of a lightweight than you are.”

Sam laughs awkwardly.

“So what's the story?”

“I don't know–” Sam stops thanks to Dean’s expression. “Yet! I’ll call him today.”

“You got his number?”

Sam vaguely remembers you putting something in his pocket. He digs into his right pocket and pulls out a piece of paper. He opens it up. I’ll talk. I left you hangover medicine, the morning after pill, and a pregnancy test. Let me know the results when the time comes. [Your Number]. “Yeah. I got it.” He turns to the bedside table and sees a bag with the logo from the local pharmacy. His heart flutters from your consideration. Which is ironic, considering what you did to him.

“Good. Take a shower and eat something, then call him.” Dean grabs the remote, gets onto his bed, and turns on the tv.

At around 11, Sam called you and now you're sitting outside a café with “Joseph” and his partner, “Francis”.

“There's two of you.” You raise your eyebrow. “Looks like you're not Sherlock, but one of the hardy boys.” You chuckle.

Sam laughs awkwardly. “This is my partner–”

“Wait, let me guess, Frank?”

“Francis. My friends call me Frank.” He smiles, impressed that you got the reference.

“Joseph and Franics. Interesting coincidence.” You’re tempted to inquire further but you decide not to. You're not too excited to recount the story but you’d rather just get it over with.

“And that was it.” You lean back into the chair. You noticed Sam was staring at you the entire time but you ignored it, you don't want to bring anything up with Dean around.

“Thanks for telling us. We’ll get to the bottom of this.” Dean stands up and shakes your hand. “Alright, let's go.” He turns to Sam.

“I- I actually have something to do, go without me.”

“What? What the hell could be so important?”

Sam looks away and doesn't answer.

Dean sighs heavily. “Fine. But don't let me find out you're trying to meet some girl or something.” He shakes his head and walks over to his car.

“So, what’s more important than your investigation?” You tilt your head in interest.

“I remember what happened last night.”

“I sure hope so, that's the whole reason I’m here.”

“No, I remember that you drugged me.”

You’re a little surprised, that wasn't supposed to happen. You know he won't turn you in though. You’re sure of it. “Are ya gonna turn me in, Mr. Hardy?” You smile teasingly.

“Not if you do something for me in return. It's only fair, right?”

You give him an amused look. “Of course, puppy, it's only fair.”

Sam blushes at the name.

“So what do you want me to do?”

“Drive me to your place and you'll find out.”

“Alright, we'll have to make a quick stop though.” You grin and lead him to your car.

Sam enters your home, anxious for two reasons. One, because you went to a sex shop and told him what you bought is a secret. And two, because he's about to request something that nobody in their right mind would do after being taken advantage of in such a way.

He sits on your bed and watches you as you place the bag on your desk and reveal what you bought. A collar that closely resembles one for a dog, but clearly made to be worn by a human. Sam’s entire body heats up.

“Just a little something to remember me by.” You hand him the collar

He frowns slightly, he doesn't want to leave you. He doesn't know why he's so obsessed with you but he brushes away the thought and puts the collar on. He looks adorable. “Now you have to do my request.” He unbuckles his belt and unzips his pants. “I want you to eat me out.” He's been fantasizing about this in the shower. He can't leave this town without experiencing this at least once.

You lick your lips. “That's it? If that's what you want, I’ll be glad to do it.” You pull his pants and underwear off for him and kneel in between his legs. You slowly drag your tongue up his pussy, tasting him for the first time. You let out a soft noise of pleasure before wrapping your lips around his t-dick and slowly easing two your fingers into his cunt. Sam throws his head back and moans unabashedly as you suck him off, his body heating up. This is so much better than just fingering himself. Your mouth feels so good.

“Like that- yes~” Sam rolls his eyes back. It won't take long for him to come. “[Name]~!” He gasps when your fingers reach his g-spot. “Oh my God–” He falls back onto the bed, quickly climbing towards his orgasm. You add a third finger and continue to finger his wetness while sucking his cock more passionately. Sam can't even manage to get any words out, he feels too fucking good to even think about anything. He instinctively wraps his legs around your head and squirts, drenching you. He takes a few moments before letting go of you.

You pull away and lick your lips. “Now, how about a round two?”

Sam nods, removing his clothes. “I wanna ride you.”

“I’d love that.”

Sam hovers above your hard length, his left hand holding it in his place and his right on your shoulder. He lowers himself onto your cock, gasping when he feels you stretching him open. Despite his memory being mostly clear from that night, the pleasure he remembered wasn't enough to prepare him for this. “Fuck–!” He moans, continuing to lower himself down. Tears run down his cheeks thanks to the painful pleasure he's experiencing. “You're- so, so big-” He's breathless.

“You're adorable, puppy.” You hold his cheek in your hand. “I know you can handle it though, keep going.”

Sam moves further down until you're completely inside him. He looks at you, tears still streaming down.

“Good boy.” You kiss him. His eyes widen for a moment before closing his eyes and reciprocating the kiss. You briefly pull away to open your mouth and Sam is quick to catch on. You return to kissing him but now with your tongue. Sam considers himself a master at kissing, since it's the most he’s ever done. At least when it comes to receiving.

Sam finds himself grinding down on your cock, finding pleasure in the way you feel inside him.

You pull away from him and move down to his neck to bite and kiss it. You now move even further and wrap your lips around his nipple, happily sucking on it while your hand goes to massage his other breast. Sam whimpers and squeezes your cock happily. He could get used to this. Just being a dumb, slutty puppy for you to use sounds great to him. Sorry Dean and the greater good, Sam is giving up on being a hunter and choosing to become a simple toy.

You reluctantly leave his breasts and look at Sam with a smile. “Why don't you try riding me now?”

“Okay..” Sam places both his hands on your shoulders and slowly rises. He whimpers at the feeling. He never had the confidence to try using a dildo so he had no idea how intense this would feel. He quickly lowers himself, missing the feeling of your entire cock inside him. Even losing a few inches is upsetting for him.

“You don't want to do it anymore? Is it too hard for you, puppy?”

He looks away from you. “I want all of you inside me…”

“Aw, you can't even stand a few seconds? I promise you won't even feel it as long as you keep up a fast pace. It’ll feel much better than just having me inside you…although I do enjoy having you keep my cock warm.”

Sam tries riding you properly but he's still feeling weak and can't do it fast enough. He stops and looks at you.

“Let me help you.” You grab his waist and lift him up and down at a fast pace. Sam rolls his head back and moans in pleasure. “See? It feels good.”

“So- so good!” He cries. He feels so good that he barely even feels the painful slapping of his breasts against his chest. He can't even focus his sight, pain is nearly obsolete to him. He brings his hand down to his dick, stroking it as best he can. You can tell he's about to come.

“Come on, puppy, come for me.” You smirk. It doesn't take much longer after that for Sam to come. He squirts, making a mess on your body. “Good boy. Now it's my turn.”

Sam gasps as his body is suddenly pushed onto the bed, your hands squeezing his wrists tightly. “Just a little more, I know you can take it.” You roughly thrust into his cunt, indulging in the lovely wet warmth of his pussy. Sam doesn't mind, on the contrary, he’s happy to be used just to get you off. “You're so obedient, sweetheart, so perfect.” You start to act more like a dog than Sam, your horniness compelling you to rut into him like a wild beast. He can barely handle it thanks to the previous activities but he's fighting to stay awake. Seeing you in this state is much too arousing to miss.

“Tha- thank you~” He smiles stupidly.

Just hearing him say that with an expression like that makes you come. You briefly grip his wrists harder then loosen it as you come down from your high. “I don't want to let you go..”

“Me neither…I like being your puppy.” His eyelids start to feel heavy. “Wanna keep getting used…” He falls asleep. You kiss his forehead and pull out. You've never given an unconscious person a bath but it shouldn't be too hard.

Dean pounds angrily on your front door, a gun in his pocket ready to shoot you if necessary. Thanks to an eyewitness report from the café employee, he found out where Sam went. He doesn't know what's going on but he's furious. He hasn't answered his calls and he hasn't seen him since yesterday.

You open the door. “Ah! Francis. Here to pick up your partner?” You pause.

“What the fuck did you do to my brother?”

“Nothing he didn't like.” You reply plainly. “He's perfectly fine and drinking some tea. I’ll show you.”

Dean looks at Sam in shock. He's just wearing a big shirt and probably underwear. “Sam! What's going on?”

“I’m sorry, but I want to stay here. I love [Name] and I don't want to leave him.”

“WHAT?!” He's completely taken aback.

“You heard him. You’ll have to head back on your own. I’ll get his stuff for him.”

Dean doesn't trust you at all. He's going to be doing a lot of research on whatever monster you might be. He's convinced you're not human. “I’m staying longer. You probably did something to him…I don't trust you.”

“That's fine.” You smile. You have something else to worry about. “So…who's Sam?”

Sam and Dean both look at each other. Looks like they're going to have to reveal the truth, at least partially...

[gyeomsweetgyeom]

[7:37 pm]

(cw: f!reader, a few curse words, no hate at all to business majors xx)

“Baby! Come on you know I didn’t mean it!” Fratboy!Jaehyun calls out with a laugh in his voice.

“You called me stupid, Jaehyun," You pout.

He fails to hide his laugh at the sight, "No, I said don't be stupid. There's a difference."

"And there's a difference between being single and having a girlfriend, asshole," you reply, slamming the door behind you.

You stomp down the stairs and almost make it to the door when Taeyong, your favorite of Jaehyun's frat brothers, asks if you were going to stay for dinner. You can never say no to him.

In the kitchen you help him chop vegetables before he finally asks you what happened, "I told Jaehyun I couldn't spend the night because I had a big project due by Monday and he told me there was no way a project for my major would constitute me not being able to spend the night. Then he just kept talking and said that none of my classes could be harder than his."

Taeyong stopped with wide eyes, "he said that?"

You nod quickly, "Oh yeah, then he told me that he doesn't think any major would be harder than his business classes, especially mine, and I'd be stupid to think so."

Taeyong ends up agreeing with you and your current upset state, Jaehyun is officially in the wrong. You can feel your phone in your pocket vibrating with texts from Jaehyun but you don't care enough to text back. He can learn from the consequences of being rude.

When the meal is finally ready, you take a seat at the table, far away from your honorary seat at the dinner table, the seat that was right beside Jaehyun's.

Jaehyun walks into the room and sees you sitting beside Taeyong and Haechan, "Really? You're still butt hurt? You didn't answer any of my texts, I wasn't sure if you were safe."

You make it a point not to look at him, so Haechan answers for you instead, "You have her location and you made her feel bad, she doesn't owe you anything."

Jaehyun glares at the younger man, he could be so annoying sometimes. While he ate, Jaehyun's eyes were glued on you with a scowl watching you laugh and interact with everyone but him. He looked like a child who was forced to share his favorite toy, it was hilarious.

While you stood in the kitchen and continued conversing with Taeyong, Jaehyun slipped in and wrapped his arms around your waist, "are you really still mad at me baby?"

"Yes, Jaehyun," You reply curtly, not reciprocating any type of affection like you would usually. This was new for everyone to witness, usually it was you giving the affection. It was you who initiated the hugs, used the mushy petnames, began the disgusting make out sessions. It was funny to see Jaehyun being the clingier of you two now.

He nuzzles his face in your neck, pressing kisses to the slope of your shoulder, "I'm not Jaehyun. I'm your love, your baby, your babe."

"Not when you're being mean."

"I didn't mean to say it," he whines, hearing someone snort out a laugh in the background.

"Jaehyun, I just can't believe you'd say that to me. You're a fucking business major with a 2.8 GPA and I'm on the dean's list with a 3.9. Almost all your classes are freshman level classes. Anything I do is harder than what you do," you finally snap.

"My love, I'm sorry," he cups your face and begins pressing kisses across your face while you still huff in annoyance in his hold.

"I don't like it when you call me stupid or imply that I am," You pout looking up into his eyes.

He presses his forehead to yours, pressing a soft kiss to your lips, "You're not baby. You're so smart and I'm the stupid one."

Someone imitates a whipping noise and mocks, "No, I'm stupid! Me! Me! I'm so stupid!"

"Fucking whipped is what he is," someone else chuckles.

"Would you guys knock it off, I'm trying to apologize to my girlfriend here!" Jaehyun calls out with an annoyed groan.

Another whip noise, "Pretty sure, I heard her call you single bro."

"Did you break up?" Haechan asks hopefully, fingers visibly crossed on both hands.

"Jaehyun gets a pass this time," you reply leaning into Jaehyun to give his cheek a kiss, ignoring the groans of the other guys in the room while he smiles happliy, "but I want flowers too."

He kisses you softly a few times, your face still cradled in his hands while he looks you right in the eye, "then my girl is getting her flowers."

[furiousgoldfish]

One of the issues you run into when you're not allowed to express anger as a child, is that you're no longer able to get angry. When you're in a situation that should evoke rage, you instead feel fear, anxiety, panic, or grief, emotional hurt and helplessness. You end up operating a body that cannot feel or express anger. The only times you do feel angry is when you're directing it at yourself, it comes as a form of self hatred, and desire to cause pain and injury to yourself. Because this is the only way you would have been allowed to be angry, only way it was safe, to direct it at yourself, same as everyone else is doing constantly, teaching you that it's normal and expected.

Growing up like this means that all of the anger from your childhood keeps getting stored into your body instead of externalized, and you still cannot get angry when the situation demands it. Instead, when you're being disrespected and injustice is served in your face, you can either feel helpless and lost, or the frustration you feel irritates you so much you cannot stand it. Your body is not used to feeling anger and doesn't know how to process it. Instead it feels like you're going to explode, restless, endlessly irritated and at a complete loss on how to handle it. Because you never learned how to handle anger, except to take it out on yourself, and you might be driven to just keep doing that, forever.

Taking a stand for yourself and confronting whoever deserved your anger might still feel terrifying and all of the insane things that happened to you as a result of childhood anger might get triggered. You might feel too frightened to confront them because you can imagine all sorts of ways it could come back to hurt you - this person could try to get you fired, for example. They might smear campaign you and get you evicted, they could threaten you with something or blackmail you, they could destroy something of yours, spread rumors, hold a grudge and do thousand times worse to you. Those are thoughts evoked by memories of childhood, where abusive parents threatened and did any or all of these things, including torture, in order to keep you from expressing anger.

However this person is hurting you right now, unprovoked, and getting no resistance. From that, they're learning that they can keep doing it, with zero consequences, because you've already been broken and cannot fight back. That is a dangerous situation to be in too, even if it is impossible to predict whether this person is insane like your parents and will try to get revenge for any bit of resistance for their abuse.

I had situations where I would be pushed over the edge and allowed my anger to come out at someone - and people would sometimes complain about it, but they would usually back off, and I would regain my peace of mind because I created a consequence for disturbing it. Anger, however, doesn't feel good. My body is not used to it so it makes me incredibly tense, stressed, frustrated and upset, and it doesn't go away for several days, even weeks sometimes. Because scratching the surface of it evokes the repressed childhood anger which is almost unbearable with how giant it is.

Human body can learn to process anger, it can feel better, more powerful and more in control because of it. It can protect you without inflicting damage to others. It doesn't make you anything like your abusers, who let their anger out at someone who wasn't their equal, had no way to fight back, and did not deserve any of it. Your anger creates boundaries that keep you safe, it doesn't exist to torture others for existing.

It's easy to fall back into the place where you don't want to be angry, and try to be accommodating and allowing of injustice, just so you don't have to feel frustrated and afraid. I often fall back on it too, just wanting to live and have peace. But life around other people often doesn't allow it, and sometimes anger is necessary to send a message of what boundaries will not be crossed without a consequence. Anger is not a bad feeling, it is an act of self love. It comes out to let you know that you've been treated unfairly and it's there because it's telling you that you matter. That treating you unfairly is something to get mad about.

[eyesxxyou]

I am not really sure if you still write for hobie, but if you do...

Inexperienced! Reader who wanted to do more than just making out but since they're not in a relationship she think she would look desperate until one day hobie notices her being really stiff in the moment. He later finds out by poking at her that is because she doesn't wanna loose control and him to notice she doesn't really know that's much...yeah

So he lets her ride him😽😻

Hope you can make something of it I live your writing!

hehehehehehe I love this

You and Hobie have been together for months now. Months and you two have never even approached the idea of sex. It’s your fault, really. The anxiety of not being able to perform in a way that even begins to measure up to that of his past partners kept you from letting him proceed any further than slipping his hands beneath the fabric of your shirt and feeling up your skin. Any further and you’d retract, you’d retreat from him so fast he’d almost think that he hurt you. You were insecure, knowing that your sexual experiences were limited and not very good. All of two of them leaving you feeling guilty and unsatisfied in yourself and them.

“We don’ gotta do anythin’ you don’ wanna, luv.” Hobie would assure you, gently peppering your lips in kisses to soothe your nerves. He was so understanding, so patient with you. You knew he was simply dying not to be able to act on any of his natural urges but he never made it known to you if he was frustrated. For a second, you almost feared he might find his satisfaction in someone else, that you weren’t enough for him.

When you made your fears known to him, Hobie couldn’t help but let out something like a laugh and a snort at the idea. “Hun, you’re more than ‘nough fo me. Woul’n’t be wit’ ya otherwise. Don’ worry ya pretty lil’ head ‘bout tings like tha’.” He’s good at making you feel safe and secure in your relationship. So thoughtlessly convincing that you knew he was telling the truth. You’ve never caught him in a lie, never heard anyone say anything against the integrity of his character.

You wanted so desperately to please him and after much pep-talking yourself in the bathroom mirror after your shower, standing in a pretty silk camisole and his favorite little pair of your little white panties with a little pink bow just at the band— you managed to gain just enough confidence in yourself to come walking out of the steam-filled bathroom with the sole purpose that you were finally going to have sex with your lovely boyfriend.

He just happened to be lying in bed, strumming his guitar with his skilled fingers, a little song he's been working on for the past week now. His eyes flickered up from his guitar to check up on you, only to find you in those skimpy little panties you knew he loved so much and a matching cami top with no obvious bra in sight. "Wha's this then?"

You stood at the foot of the bed, fiddling with your fingers anxiously as you shrugged, all your feigned confidence melting out of your body at once. "I jus' thought—"

"Jus' though' wha'?" Hobie put his guitar to the side and crawled across the bed towards you. His large, calloused hands coming to find purchase on your hips as he knelt before you. He pulled your close, pressed his face into your supple stomach before looking up at you. "Though' you'd come and seduce me, then? Is tha' i'?" His hands slid up and slipped beneath the silky fabric of your top. The rough calluses of his fingertips caress the soft, plush skin of your belly. Then he lifted your shirt, just enough to trail kisses down your navel to the band of your underwear. "Comin' in here, lookin' all pretty."

You love how loved Hobie makes you. You loved the way he seemed to worship every piece of flesh he managed to get his hands on like it was his honor to be touching you rather than the truth, it was your honor to be touched by him.

“I wanna try it tonight.” You cast your gaze away due to your shyness, not even able to say the word.

Hobie chuckled softly at your timidness. “Wha’? You wanna fuck?” He laughed even harder as you slap his shoulder and purse your lips at his vulgarity. “Don’ be so shy, babe. I’m jus’ clarifyin’.” He let your shirt fall back down and fell back onto your shared bed with his head against the pillows.

Before you knew it, you were on top of him, your panties pulled to the side and his pants pulled down just enough to reveal the length of his aching cock. How quickly he got hard for you, just for you, in all your innocent, inexperienced glory. You were slowly lowering yourself down on his dick, your tight cunt swallowing his length bit by bit, inch by inch, each micromovement making you shudder and whine while Hobie kept guiding your hips down, his bottom lip tucked between his teeth. “Tha’s i’, good. Keep goin’ jus’ like tha’.”

You whined at the stretch of him parting you walls and forcing you to make room for him. Every ridge, every vein as inch by excruciating inch was fed into you was felt with hypersensitivity. Maybe you were a tad bit overzealous because Hobie whined slightly, a smile easing onto his lips as his hands gripped harder on your hips. "Easy now, baby. Go slow." His scarred, rough hands slid between your legs and parted the soft flesh of your thighs to get a better look through the darkness.

You moaned as you reached the hilt, sticky skin meeting sweaty skin as Hobie leaned back against his pillow and groaned, head tilted back to reveal his prominent Adam's apple beneath that thin layer of flesh over his throat. You didn't know what came over you but you hand gravitated towards his neck and settled there with comfortable welcome. And to your surprise, Hobie didn't protest it. His easy smile still ghosts over his lips. "I didn' ‘xpect you to be the chokin’ type." He teased. "Go ‘head then. Commit." He coaxed you to squeeze, even instructed you on how to do it properly. "Jus’ lightly on the sides, don' crush my win’pipe now." You did as instructed, nails slightly digging into dark chocolate-toned skin as you squeezed just against the sides. You were nervous about all of this, scared that you might be hurting him, but he seemed to enjoy your proactiveness.

"Keep ya eyes on me, luv." He sighs, hands rocking you hips back and forth. "Don't take your eyes off of me." You took this as you sign to start, your thighs flexing as you rose and relaxing as you let yourself fall. It was so much. Too much maybe. He reached further than anyone has before, deep and thick and terribly good. Skin meets skin once again. The intermingling of sweat and lingering moans. Everything was felt. His rough hands guided your hips, every little movement pushing him further into you, the vibrations of his throat against your palm as he moaned.

You rode him hard, desperate for a release that hasn't been granted to you for years. Too many failed attempts. Hobie, caressing you while you fucked him, humming soft words of praise to feed you ego made you feel like those other times were never meant to happen in the first place. As far as you’re concerned, this is your first time. He never stops looking at you, eyeing out you silhouette in the darkness. Long braids fell over your shoulder and brushed against Hobie’s exposed torso as you leaned forward. "Hobie," his name a prayer on you lips. He adores it, adores you. Every last mole and scar, every piercing, every blemish. The prettiest girl he's ever seen.

"I know, princess, I know. You got i’."

You want to tell him to keep talking to you like that, constantly reassuring you, offering motivation despite the burning pain in your thighs from continuous movement. You never knew men spoke so much during sex. It sounded so sweet coming from his thick lips. All your previous lovers were absolutely silent the entire time. His voice softens the blow, words not particularly obscene in any definable way yet still able to get you wet with just as much effect as if he had eaten you out.

He knows just when to stop and start, what to say to keep you going, when to just let things ride out. He controls every movement under the guise that you have the control. Maybe they share it because the way you have him on the edge of control is completely ridiculous in his opinion.

Hobie decided to help you along, knows girls have to focus a little harder to cum, and weighed the pad of his thumb on your clit. He circles it, coaxing a few whiny moans from your kiss-swollen lips. Your hand fell from his throat to grasp at his shirt in search of more stability, thin brows pulling together in concentration as you struggled to keep your eyes open.

There’s a climax in the way you breathe, a slow building of wont and indescribable pleasure. A climax that leads to anotyou, a crippling one that builds in the pit of your core with each rising breath. You pussy pulses in waves, clenching and unclenching, and never before has Hobie so desperately wished to be bare inside a woman, have that skin-to-skin contact unable to be replicated any other way. You're far more advantageous in your aggression, desperate for that point of no return.

Between labored breaths, Hobie asks, "are ya close? Hmm? You gonna cum fa me, babe?" All you could do was moan loud enough to cover the soft clapping of skin and the sticky peel apart maybe from the sweat that covers your skin in a soft, gleaming layer, maybe from something far more profane.

"That's not gonna work for me, sweetheart. Use your words." You never expected Hobie to be so big on vocalization. It makes sense. He always preferred people to just be out with their intentions, couldn't stand hidden meanings and implications. Say it. Tell him. And he'd give you all you desired.

You shuttered, muscles tightening all at once. "Gonna-" hardly even a warning before you orgasm clung to you and ravished your body almost to your surprise. Muscles ripple, walls clamping desperately to Hobie's cock buried deep within you. you would have fallen if Hobie hadn't sat up to catch you, letting you rest you body upon his with you face buried into the nape of his neck. you nails claw at the back of his neck as his name rings out in a cry against his ear.

"Jus’ a lil’ more, baby. 'm almost there." Hobie keeps your hips moving and like a good girl, a bit more obedient than you would have liked yourself to be, you keep riding him. Neither of them thought the sounds coming from them could have been even more pornographic but the sticky, wet, sloppiness of him diving in and out of your quivering pussy was giving them a run for their money. "So fuckin’ good." He moaned, grasping onto any piece of flesh available to him.

You never been embraced in such a way, held onto like you were his lifeline. You never expected Hobie to get so personal during sex. Always thought him to be the detached type. But the way he was groaning in your warmth, holding you as close as he possibly could despite the humid stickiness between them told you something entirely different. The feel of his rough hands on smooth skin is proof that this was what sex was supposed to be. It was supposed to be intimate and close, and passionate. You were supposed to feel good about yourself. You were supposed to push Hobie’s hair out of his face and look him in the eyes. You kissed him and he kissed you back with such harshness you could have mistaken his actions as a form of cannibalism.

“How was it?” You asked softly against his lips, nervous about how well you did. Was it good enough? Did you compare in any way, shape or form to his past lovers? You just wanted to be enough.

Hobie kissed you once more. “Perfect.”

[euseol]

␥ ᡣ𐭩 reconnecting our love ── park wonbin smau

synopsis ᝰ.ᐟ after being forced to break up because of the public, jung yn just can’t seem to let park wonbin go.

word count ᝰ.ᐟ 909

note ᝰ.ᐟ thank you guys so much for 100+ followers 🥹🫶🏼

07 YN, ARE YOU OKAY?

“is everyone ready?” the manager called out as the members were rushing out the door with their bags. two suitcases were thrown into the trunk as everyone were heading inside the van.

“manager-nim, can we stop by for a minute to get fried chicken? we’re starving..” eunseok asked as he volunteered before. the manager shut the van door and looked back at the members who were already giving puppy eyes.

he let out a sigh, “we’re gonna be running late if we do that. i’m pretty sure the airport food is delicious.” he said, and he could hear the members whining.

“but manager-nim,” shotaro pout, “we haven’t had fried chicken in so long! and plus, we all want yangnyeom chicken, wonbin’s favorite! i doubt we’ll be able to find it in paris.”

“please manager-nim,”

the manager let out another sigh before turning on the van, “alright, fine. but we will be a few minutes late so once we arrive at the airport, no dilly-dallying, got it?”

finally, the members pouts went away and instead was replaced with a smile on their faces as they all agreed. “yes manager-nim!”

after a quick pit stop to get some fried chicken, the group finally arrived at the airport. however, since they were a little late there was only a few paparazzi waiting outside for them. as soon as they got out of the van, the few paparazzi who were waiting for them started shouting their names, which caught the attention of everyone else who were in the airport. it seemed like someone arrived before them.

ahead of the group were another small group of girls. who seemed to be you, sakura, nayeon, and karina. you immediately noticed the presence of the group and cursed to yourself.

“why did they have to arrive at the same time as us?” you mumbled underneath your breath but sakura, who was standing beside you, heard everything.

“hey yn, you were gonna see them sooner or later. did you forget they are on the same flight as us?” sakura asked, and you did happen to forget.

before you could say anything else, your manager was already telling you to hurry up and walk. you stared at the paparazzi’s flashing lights as you walked inside of the airport. you were met with a gush of swarming people already running towards you, but little did you know riize was right behind you guys.

suddenly the fans started to push and shove you out of the way so they could meet with the idol group. nayeon had a worried expression on her face as she watched the scene unfold. no one else was getting pushed except you, which made nayeon and everyone else upset.

your manager and the bodyguards tried to escort you as safely as possible, but the fans and paparazzi were too much at the moment. it’s not like they were ignoring you, they were still trying to talk to you and take pictures but they were also trying to hurry up so they could get a view of the group behind you.

you were so overwhelmed by the fans pushing and shoving you to the point you fell to the ground.

“oh my gosh yn are you okay!?” sakura shouted amidst the screams from the fans as she helped you get up. the bodyguards quickly circled around you guys so no one else could get hurt.

you got up from sakura’s help as nayeon and karina looked at you with concern plastered on their face. there was absolutely no time to talk so you gave them a reassuring signal that you were fine before having to move again.

riize, who was right behind you, witnessed everything and wonbin couldn’t help but stare at you in concern. he was too busy staring he didn’t even notice the swarm of people coming his way and the bodyguards circling around him and the members for protection. he couldn’t believe the situation that was unfolding and unknowingly glared at everyone.

shotaro noticed this and rest his hand on wonbin’s shoulder, “you’re making it obvious.” he said and the other snapped back into reality. “did you not see what happened just now? yn fell over because of these people!”

shotaro also glared at the people before returning back to wonbin, “yeah, i did. it’s crazy but if you glare at everyone like that you’ll start something again on the internet.”

the boy couldn’t have cared less as he continued to glare at the fans and paparazzi, showing in plain sight that he was disappointed and pissed off at their actions. it only took a few more minutes before they were out of the fan’s sight and waiting at their gate already.

sungchan noticed wonbin’s expression, “you good man?”

“mhm.”

shotaro signaled sungchan to leave the other alone for now as he was recollecting his peace. eunseok set the container of the chicken that they got earlier next to wonbin so he could eat and calm down.

“well, this is not what i wanted it to be like when i said airport here we come.” anton joked a little to sohee and seunghan who were just silently watching the others.

suddenly wonbin pulled out his phone and sungchan couldn’t help but be nosy and subtly watch him. he watched as he opened up his messages and scrolled through them, trying to find a certain person.

and let’s just say, sungchan looked quite shocked.

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[ariaste]

(Interview with the Vampire thoughts, i'm putting the label up here for my mutuals who aren't watching it, hi babes)

listen i have THOUGHTS about Daniel, alright, I just-- these messy bitches are SO messy, Louis and Armand are objectively awful people (and I love them SO MUCH but that's beside the point) and they are miserable and making each other worse and they keep talking over each other and trying to impose their own story over the top of the other one's story, and BY GOD the one thing they need more than anything else is for someone to just LISTEN

and then here's Daniel, a bright young(?) reporter with a point of view, whose whole job is to listen, and to ask questions that draw out the story instead of imposing his own.

there is something sacred in that solemn duty (and I do think Daniel would consider it sacred and solemn and a duty, it's IMPORTANT, he knows it's important, he has the tape playing in his head to tell him that it's important) -- something sacred, something almost holy, it's not an interview so much as a confession in the most literal religious sense, and Daniel is the one receiving the confession and is possibly the source of absolution, or at least the first step towards absolution -- he really is, you know, any healing that happened in this fucked up community did not start until Daniel was there to listen. He is the one who listens, who takes in every flaw and justification and excuse and inadvertent truth, he is standing in witness, he knows the subtle differences between sympathy and empathy and compassion and forgiveness and condonation, and he does NOT condone what either of them has (by god he does not condone), and forgiveness has not yet been earned, and sympathy is really not so much his style so that's not even on the table--

But empathy and compassion. Those are on the table. Because you have to have empathy to do the job that Daniel does, you have to have just enough compassion to show up and listen, to extend that moment of grace to the subject of the interview even if they're a monster, you have have enough empathy to give them the gift of a chance to bare their hearts and be as complex and fucked up and human as anyone else in the world, and welcome that complexity and embrace it. You'd have to love that person a little bit, I think, even if they're awful, because you cannot every fully understand something or someone unless you love them. But love, again, is not condonation or forgiveness. It is just love -- "You're fucked up and wrong and everyone here needs therapy, but I'm still listening to you and I'm still giving you a space to be your whole, messy, fucked-up self."

But then to do the job that Daniel does, you can't have so much compassion and empathy that you get personally entangled to the point that your objectivity vanishes. And yeah, Daniel is VERY MUCH personally entangled, but his objectivity is still there, he's still able to hold the story at arm's length and think, "These are unreliable narrators, bias is everywhere, memory is faulty. The truth will set us free, but it's not coming out of either of these bitches' mouths unless I go hunting for it."

Like look at poor fucking Armand who has had 500 years of some of the worst trauma a person can have, and he is used to being the victim and lying and manipulating to protect himself and to defuse the anger of people who have the power to hurt him, and he is a CONTROL FREAK about it, and he has probably never, ever, not once had someone showing up to really, really listen to him the way that Daniel listens. People come to Armand and yell at him or accuse him or attack him or force him to make terrible choices or coerce him into situations he did not freely choose -- has anyone ever just listened? Has anyone ever held space for him to be as scared and fucked up and cowardly and needy as he is, and simply patiently, compassionately held witness to it with measured objectivity? Can you imagine how delicious and heartwrenching and, yes, fascinating it would be if someone did that for you?

Daniel's a really, really good journalist. DO YOU EVER THINK ABOUT WHAT A GOOD JOURNALIST HE IS. I JUST THINK WE SHOULD TALK MORE ABOUT WHAT A GREAT JOURNALIST HE IS

[m4tthewmurd0ck]

Tom Blyth x Actress!Reader

i try to avoid descriptors but i do use she/her, mention being shorter than tom and reader is a swiftie! click [HERE] for my tom blyth masterlist :)

the beginning of everything 🩵

*ALSO* speak now (taylor’s version) was released on july 7, 2023 but for my story it’s june 7, 2022 because we only support taylor’s version in this house

june 7, 2022

liked by username and others…

yourname enchanted (taylor’s version) 4:13 - 4:36. also no one is prouder of mother than i. she has my whole heart fr

username excuse me???

username whoooooo?!?

↳ username who what

↳ username i think they’re asking who the caption is about. because of the time stamps.

username i’m lazy can someone tell me what the lyrics are

↳ yournamefans “these are the words i held back as i was leaving too soon / i was enchanted to meet you / please don’t be in love with someone else / please don’t have somebody waiting on you”

rachelzegler 🥰 i ship iiiiittt!!!

↳ yourname shhh not so loud hasmzjejiajef

taylorswift meredith said if you don’t tell me who you’re talking about she’s going to be extremely upset. also hi i love you and you totally have my whole heart 💜

↳ taylorswift but tell me. i mean her.

↳ yourname i’m crying right now 😭 but also of course i’ll tell u anything for you my queen

joshandresrivera 🙊

↳ yourname and the monkey’s mouth better stay closed 🙃🙃🙃

ewanmitchell ooooooooooooooo

↳ yourname juliette is gonna put poison in aemonds drink istg

↳ username house of the dragon isn’t even released yet and we’re already witnessing a lovers spat!

↳ username wait is she dating ewan?

↳ username no but ewan plays aemond targaryen and yourname plays juliette atlas. they’re together in the book at least

tchalamet je sais qui 😄 (i know who)

↳ yourname je vais te tuer 🤭 (i’m going to kill you)

tomblyth liked this photo

tomblyth followed yourname

yourname followed tomblyth

~ 2 weeks later ~

liked by joshandresrivera and others…

tomblyth by the way, i was enchanted to meet you too ♥️

username i’m crying????

username i’m going to die alone.

↳ username heavy on that for me too 😭

username soft launch!!

↳ username more like hard af launch. this is obviously referring to yourname post a couple of weeks ago which means her crush was mutuaaaaal

yourname ♥️

username WAIT that means they’re gonna be in a movie together???

↳ username do your hands hurt from all that reaching 😳

↳ yournamefans i think they’re right. tomblyth and rachelzegler were already announced to play lucy gray baird and coriolanus snow. they were then seen with joshandresrivera and yourname on june 7. that wasn’t a double date based on their captions, so it was possibly a meet / hang out with your co-stars thing? they haven’t known josh and rachel that long so that’s my guess.

rachelzegler i’m screaming! i knew you guys would be perfect together 😍

If you’d like to be tagged for future Tom x Actress!Reader, let me know! if you’ve already asked to be tagged and don’t see your username, it means I wasn’t able to tag you.

TAGLIST — @daenerysqueenofhearts | @coconut-dreamz | @spencerstits | @callsignwidow | @inf4ntdeath | @upsidedownjill | @toeoffrog | @bada-lee-ily | @sassyangel16 | @or-was-it-just-a-dream | @jolleluvsyou | @ennycutie | @ashcosmo | @urfavnoirette | @nomorespahgetti | @a-mysterious-potato

[angel-of-the-moons]

I haven’t stopped thinking about that Hobie baby fever fic ever since you posted it. Many thoughts. Many thoughts many many thoughts and ideas many many little ideas.

You have people saying ‘Oh good luck lol kids are SO hard!’ ‘He’s definitely gonna regret it you’re gonna be a single parent’. But Hobie’s probably been WISHING from a young age he could be a parent, the only thing he didn’t prep for is your little one grabbing his wicks and him nervously calling out “Luv, luv help me LUV-”. He learnt very quickly to tie his hair back when he’s holding them. If you have a little girl, everyone always thinks it’s you who’s done her hair for the day or for school. NOPE. Hobie’s been with her in the bathroom since 6 in the morning putting her in braids and buns. Your baby is his whole world and he’ll be DAMNED if he won’t be the absolute best dad EVER ‼️

Oh my godddddddddd my ovaries went 💥💥

The Pitter Patter of Little Feet Pt. 2

Dad!Hobie x Wife!Reader

TW/CW: A lil angst at the start, Fluff. So much fluff.

A/N: I'm basing all my baby prep off of the things I had to do for my nephew. I am unsure the proper care that goes into textured hair but I hope I can do it justice!

🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸

You remember what people told you, how "someone like him" wouldn't be able to handle being a dad, how he'd leave you. The words said by your mother hurt the worst, the things she said about Hobie. Your father was no better, especially when they found out you two agreed to get pregnant before anything else.

Especially after you put the positive pregnancy tests, the test results from blood work with your doctor, and some baby booties on the table as a surprise.

It was supposed to go like you imagined, right? Happy jubilant crying, hugs, congratulations...

You got the exact opposite, with your parents criticizing everything about your boyfriend, the father of your unborn baby. The man you loved.

"What kind of father would he be? A bad one, just look at how he's dressed! You think he can help dress your child?" Your mother scoffed. "And those awful piercings! I bet your baby will be running around with holes in their face by the time they're six!"

"And what about a job? You can't be the only one to support your family. He's a man, he needs to step up and quit it with that "punk lifestyle". It's not suitable to raise my grandchild in!" Your father grunted.

After your baby was born, you cut them off and had a courthouse wedding, and a little get-together with his friends from the Spider Society. A mix of a reception and baby shower.

Joke's on them! Hobie was an amazing father, and an amazing husband. The moment he found out you two were having a little girl?

Pink. And. Purple. Her style would be all punkish of course.

He got stuffed instruments that crinkled for when she would teethe, some guitar-shaped rattles...

And he would never admit it, but Hobie actually cried, when he got to hold your baby girl for the first time. You guys named her Selena. Selena Brown.

She came out angry, wailing, as if she was pissed off at the world she had only been in for a few moments.

"Already got the spirit! Make a big noise, a big statement. That's my girl!" Hobie laughed, playing with her tiny feet.

After that, Hobie was very attentive. From you working from home, he would help. He'd fetch the breast pump when you needed it, would prep the bottles, and keep Selena occupied while you worked. He would even take the late shifts at night to make sure you got your rest.

As Selena got bigger, her hair became a bit unruly, and at times you had no idea what to do with it. Hobie? He came in clutch. The proper ties, hair masks, grease (if needed), oils, brushes...

The trick was getting the rambunctious one year old to hold still while her father attempted to tame the poofy mass.

It was one day, you got up from your computer only to hear Hobie shout your name.

"Babe! Babe!" He cried out, grunting.

Of course, you made a dash for the living room, only to see your husband with your toddler. Apparently she had moved behind him, her hands clinging to his shirt to help keep her balanced as she bounced on her little chubby feet.

Her big brown eyes gleamed as she giggled, her bottom teeth poking out in the most adorable way.

Well... it wasn't from where Hobie sat.

Selena's little fist had a tight hold over one of his wicks, tugging his head back sharp.

"A lil' help, luv?!" He winced, hissing at you as you covered your face to try and keep from laughing.

"Come on, Bug, give daddy's poor head a rest. He's got enough problems with that mess he calls hair." You tease, scooping up your little girl.

But... even though her grip loosened, Hobie's wick stayed attached to her hand.

"Oh... ohhhhh..." You said, clicking your tongue.

"What! What!" Hobie groaned, trying to tug his head free.

"You made me have a spider baby."

[amourdivine]

𝐏𝐈𝐂𝐊 𝐀 𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐃 🦢 𝐇𝐎𝐖 𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐋 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐑𝐄𝐂𝐎𝐆𝐍𝐈𝐙𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐅𝐒?

Hello! Since I wanted to cross this to Instagram, I wrote a sweet and short reading on how you'll be able to recognize your FS. I really hope this resonates! Feedback is always appreciated; If you liked this reading, please consider booking a paid reading or tipping me at @ amourdivinetarot@gmail.com! xo. ♡

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none of the images are mine unless stated otherwise.

how to choose your pile.  take deep breaths for a few minutes & look at each and every one of the piles separately. which pile sparks a feeling inside you? which pile gives you a strong memory or calls out to you the most? take your time and feel free to come back to it later.

♡ ♡ ♡     pick a card masterlist & information.

disclaimer. this is a general reading for entertainment purposes. tarot is a divination tool & is not a substitute for medical and professional advice, nor is it meant to be taken as such. i do not take responsibility for any choice(s) made by you or others regarding my readings.

amourdivine. 2021 - 2023 © do not copy, redistribute or edit my content.

PILE 001.

three of wands • three of cups • eight of pentacles

Before being a good anything, this person is a good friend. You'll recognize them by their hardworking nature, their cooperation and team working skills. It's likely you'll meet them during a work travel or another kind of formal situation - perhaps on a group travel for a college project or some other kind of professional setting. Your FS will be extremely skilled and knowledgeable, but humble about it. You may end up collaborating with this person on something significant here, perhaps a business or a project together. I feel like they're very prim & proper, they'll never cross boundaries and will always be respectful of everyone's beliefs, religion and backgrounds. You'll recognize them by their patience, their independent, wise and practical nature.

Planets and signs: Earth energy, mainly Capricorn and Taurus.

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PILE 002.

two of swords • the empress • the hermit.

So much Venus and Libra here. This person is a people pleaser, not in a terrible way, but they want to be discerning, okay. They want to be fair and diplomatic. Your FS is thoughtful - you'll recognize them by how much they always want to do the right thing, to the point where it becomes borderline unhealthy and perfectionist. They want to make sure they make the best decisions for everyone in their lives. Your FS takes everyone's feelings into account because they care deeply about their family and loved ones. You'll recognize them for their big heart, their sensitive, introspective and gentle nature. They may be an overthinker as well, because your FS is terrified of hurting someone or doing the wrong thing by themselves or someone else. They're beautiful in all aspects.

Planets and signs: Earth and Air, mainly Libra and Virgo.

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PILE 003.

the star • three of swords • seven of swords.

Your FS is resilient, hopeful and cunning. You'll recognize them by their ability to outsmart the people who don't mean well, by their silver tongue and sharp wit. They have an uncanny ability to get past the heartbreaks and difficult moments in their life. This person has been through it, they've seen many things and they did not let the world get to them. While they may seem smug, your FS is confident in themselves to get through anything in life. They're hopeful, but they're not passive about their hope. They don't sit around and wait for things to improve - no, this person improves their own life and crafts their own destiny. Magician card energy. You'll recognize them by their stubbornness, their desire to fight for better things and their unique sense of humor.

Planets and signs: All air signs, mainly Aquarius and Gemini.

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PILE 004.

page of swords • eight of pentacles • justice.

Your FS is a curious, busy and hardworking person. You'll recognize them by how many questions about life they have - they're a truth seeker. They could work in the legal or justice system. This person may be a bookworm and likes asking the hard, philosophical questions. They're not afraid of harsh truths and confronting the people who have done something wrong. Your FS may strongly believe in karma, or perhaps they have a very strong ethic and moral code. You'll recognize them by how passionate, eager and restless they seem for something greater than what the world can offer. A larger-than-life personality. Someone honest, curious, non-judgmental and principled.

Planets and signs: mainly Libra and Gemini, with a feel of Sagittarius.

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amourdivine. © do not copy, redistribute or edit my content.

[infriga]

Another thing from the One Piece live action that I have a lot of thoughts about is a certain change they made that normally I might have disliked but actually felt they did rather well.

That being, Luffy listening to crew members backstories.

In the manga Luffy often goes out of his way to avoid listening to crew member's backstories when they're told by other people, because he doesn't like hearing about his crew from other characters and also because he's of the opinion that he doesn't give a shit about their past because doesn't change how he feels about them. All he needs to know is "this person hurt my friend/made my friend cry/has ill will towards my friend". He trusts implicitly that if his friend has a problem with someone then it's with good reason, he doesn't need to know the particulars. He'll listen to the crew member themself if they're the one talking about it, but if someone else is doing the telling he often leaves or falls asleep, with a few exceptions (like Brook's backstory, because hearing Brook's backstory is important for realizing who Brook is, which crew he came from, and his relation to Laboon. I think the fact that the one telling him is another crew member also helps here). This was a trait I liked about him, the way he places importance on hearing about this stuff directly from the person and wants to know what they want and how they feel out of their own mouth. It was a cool, subtle trait that adds some depth to him. It also gives this sense of respect to the privacy of someone who doesn't get to tell their own story, maybe not intentionally on Luffy's part, who doesn't really have a strong concept of privacy tbh, but as a vibe you know? Obviously it's a good way to provide exposition especially if the character isn't the type to tell their own story, but there's still an invasion of privacy on some level even if it's arguably justified.

Nami's backstory is one such instance like this. He refuses to listen about Nami from Nojiko (literally says "no thanks I'm not interested in her past" and leaves). He doesn't need to know about Nami's past to want to help her and he wants to hear that she needs help directly from her.

In the live action however, he listens to Nojiko this time, when she tells Nami's story. And I get why, the way the story is arranged doesn't give as much room for Luffy to wander off and witness Nami's confrontation with the villagers separately, and that aspect of his character would probably be difficult to get across without making him seem like a dick in live action to newcomers, hell it doesn't always get across in the manga/anime either, since I've seen plenty of people complain about him doing it and saying it's a dick move. But! They added a line in the live action that I think managed to get across the same feeling about his character quite well in a succinct way. It was when he says "I'm tired of hearing about Nami from other people".

It brings to mind what he says to Robin in Enies Lobby. "I want to hear it from your own mouth!" he wants to hear about his friends and how they feel directly from them, not second hand from other people. And he wants to hear the truth because he knows when his friends are lying about how they feel. He doesn't care how well those other people know the crew member in question, he cares about learning about them directly from them. And later when they do the scene™ with Nami, it doesn't ring false when she says "you don't know anything about what's going on here" and he replies with "I don't" because to him since he didn't hear it from her directly he doesn't really know what's going on. He just knows that she's in pain and needs him but he wants to hear it from her, that she needs help. It isn't as subtle and doesn't have as many layers of interpretation that the original portrayal of this character trait is able to be, but that's just the nature of an adaptation like this, they have to be smart about what subtleties they keep and what they have to be more obvious/blunt about. There are actually a few areas where the live action are more subtle, like the way they take out a lot of exposition but still manage to explain a lot of stuff about their world through show rather than tell. The dialogue about devil fruits for example, they never outright say that devil fruit users have their power drained when they're submerged in water, but they do have scenes showing the effects and people referencing that aspect of fruits in ways that feel more natural to people who live in the world and aren't giving obligatory exposition. Other people have mentioned this but the live action is surprisingly good with show don't tell, and use it in all the right ways.

I get the feeling that some of the small adjustments they made to the script and exposition and stuff like Luffy's behaviour still feel right and in-character/canon compliant (not literally canon-compliant but in spirit if you know what I mean) to me because they feel like they get across some of the more subtle aspects of his character that a lot of people miss. Like it bugs me when people say the live action made Luffy "smarter" which I'm probably gonna make a whole separate post about. For now I'll just say, Luffy isn't anywhere near as stupid as a lot of people think he is.

Or when people think him not wanting to eat when he's worried about Zoro is out of character, when we've seen in the original series that Luffy actually *does* have a harder time eating or thinking about food when he's stressed out about his friends. In the original series it does generally take a bit more stress to get him to that point, but like I said I think they adjusted it to make this point more clear in live action, that Luffy's love of his friends and crew overshadow his love for food. And it also gives them a small moment to showcase more of Sanji's caring nature when it comes to food when he responds by trying to feed Luffy and convince him to eat, which is a great moment to add especially since they were limited with Sanji's characterisation due to him joining the latest in the season, they managed to pack in so much characterisation for him into a relatively short window and I was impressed by that. And I have some examples regarding Luffy abstaining from food for the sake of others or being more reluctant to eat when stressed, but I think I'll leave that for a separate post as well.

They had less time to develop the crew relationships so they made sure to emphasize their bonds within the scenes they did have, putting more weight on Luffy's worry for Zoro, having Luffy be a bit more outwardly attentive to the interpersonal dynamics of the crew, being a little bit more obvious about Luffy's emotional intelligence, etc. None of these things feel like they actually change anything about Luffy's core character, they just showcase aspects of his character that already exist and are just more subtle in the original, because it's a long running series and can afford to take more time to establish these character traits. Luffy might not have shown as much outward anxiety over Zoro's injury in the manga, but that's because Oda had more time to build up the relationship before that point, so the live action took advantage of the injury subplot to be more overt about how Luffy feels about Zoro, as well as how his one point of anxiety that really gets to him consistently is the safety of his crew and him feeling helpless when he can't do anything because the problem isn't something he can punch away. So in altering that scenario a bit they can still keep that sense of a deep bond between the two despite having less time to show them growing close in smaller moments like the manga does. They probably realised that having Luffy leave or fall asleep during Nami's backstory wouldn't come across as well in the live action or fit the narrative structure changes, but they still took a moment to add a line that acknowledged that part of Luffy's character.

Like part of why most of the changes they did make didn't bother me is because of that feeling that no matter what they changed they were still dedicated to being as true to the characters as possible in the most fundamental ways. I'd certainly much rather have the live action place emphasis on Luffy's emotional intelligence and empathy and care for his crew instead of putting emphasis on him being stupid and comedic and sacrificing some of his empathy and emotional intelligence in the process. Do I love when Luffy is a hilarious dumbass? Absolutely, but that isn't the most important part of his character, so I'm glad they did the opposite of flanderize him, and they still did keep the funny dumbass part of him intact they just didn't put more importance on it than they needed to.

Anyway, this got away from me, but I just wanted to make a post about this because I feel like it's a good example of how the show makes most of the changes work because it still feels like they get the core of the show and the characters. Which makes sense if Oda was so anal about it and had them change scenes or lines if they didn't feel right for the characters. Oda of all people would know what is or isn't in character for them, so I can feel the way these subtle changes still feel right despite the differences.

[creativesaturn]

Summary: You can't help but feel sorry for Spencer.

Genre: Light angst , fluff

Pairing: Spencer Reid x gn!reader

Warnings: light angst

Word count: 805

A/N: feeling very lazy today

You stared at the man who's desk was directly in front of yours. The both you being left behind in the bullpen to finish up paper work. But you could hardly focus, not after what you witnessed today.

Spencer was reading a book, completing his papers an hour ago and was now waiting for you, which you didn't quite understand.

But what you couldn't shake all day was how everyone was so mean to him. It was genuinely sad to witness when someone would tell him to stop talking or blow him off like he was dirt.

Spencer looked up from his book, staring back at your face that failed to hide any kind of expression. Your eyebrows knitted together, nostrils flared and your hands holding your head up as you watched him.

He didn't say anything at first, merely letting the both of you keep eye contact in hopes you'd break first. But, when you didn't, he opened his mouth to say, "You okay?" He said, his own brows withering in slight confusion.

His voice snapped you out of your expressed stated, your eyebrows rising and your face finally relaxing, "Yeah! Yeah, sorry.." You muttered, looking away to try and hide from the awkward conversation that was about to happen.

"Is there a.. uh... a reason, you were looking at me?" He asked, not letting his eyes leave you, curiosity eating at him.

You thought for a second, there was, there was a big reason. You just weren't sure if it was the right time to talk about it. But, will there ever be a right time?

You took in a deep breath, letting out a sigh to finally turn back to him, nodding slowly. "Yeah, uhm.." You muttered, looking back down to your hands to find your words.

He stared at you, completely patient, just waiting for you to speak.

"Everyone's just so mean to you, Spence." You blurted, trying not to give yourself time to overthink it.

His eyebrows furrowed at your words, "No one's mean to me?" He spoke, his tone in a questioned manner.

"And you don't even realize it." You scoff with a laugh. But, it wasn't a laugh to express that any of this was funny. It was to express how unbelievable it was.

He stayed silent. His eyes going back to his book with a long lingering silence, trying to find words of his own.

You looked away too, not wanting to overstep and assuming your previous sentence wasn't something he wanted to talk about.

"I do realize it," He finally replied, his eyes off his book but still completely avoiding eye contact.

"I just.." He sighed, "I just convince myself they didn't mean it, or it was a joke. I don't get jokes a lot so it was always easy to tell myself that, 'i just don't get it'." He admitted, sticking the tip of his tongue out to coat his dry lips. His eyes, now unable to look towards you as he admitted something that no one else knew.

You completely understand what he said, your pity for him growing even more as you thought about every word he spoke. "It hurts me to see people walk all over you, Spence." You professed, your eyes studying his body in an attempt at better understanding him.

"I know.." Spencer replied in a mumble, "I just have nothing else to say. If people don't want to hear me talk, it's--" He tried to go on, but his voice cracked, giving up mid sentence on him.

"I want to hear you talk. I would never tell you to shut up, it's not something a good friend does." You went on, trying to finish his sentence for him as you watched his eyes water and the tears threatening to spill.

His eyes finally met yours, his breathing getting heavier as he tried to control the overwhelming urge to cry in front of you.

"You don't have to say anything else." You said to him, "But I swear to God, if someone says anything to you again I won't be able to control myself." You laughed, lightening the mood to see him laugh along with you; which he did.

You stood up from your desk and walked over to him, he looked up at you in confusion but when he watched your arms open for a hug, he quickly obliged. He stood up and let you engulf him in your embrace.

You could hear the faint sniffling that was muffled by your hair, causing your eyes to water too. But, you didn't want to cry. This wasn't about you. This was about the boy who never felt truly liked and was walking around hoping he was just some joke making people laugh.

As if that was the best case scenario.

reposts and comments are appreciated <3

[anshares]

Just full body designs from my Xianxia AU aka TTEOTM!RH AU

+ arc 1 plot below the cut

ARC 1

Dan Heng is a member of one of the last surviving sects in a world razed by the Demon lord, Ren. His sect has an artifact that could end Ren’s life so Ren is in the hunt for it since it is his only weakness. While they are holding back Ren’s onslaught on their sect his seniors himeko and welt decided to use the artifact and send Dan Heng to the past to prevent the Demon lord’s destruction. A few hundred years ago Ren was a human prince who was born with Shuhu’s flesh, the original demon lord.

It lays dormant within him but due to him being cursed the people treat him with disdain and suffer abuse, the moment he was killed from it is when he rose as the demon lord to return to them what he experienced tenfold. Dan Heng's mission is to ensure that Ren won’t experience the cruelties he suffered and that he would live on normally at the same time finding a way to destroy Shuhu’s flesh in him. As his seniors were completing the ritual to send him back in time, Ren has already breached the sect and is now standing in front of DH who witnessed the slaughter of his friends, before he disappeared he vowed that he would kill Ren.

DH wakes up 700 years in the past in the body of Dan Feng, a haughty second prince of the Luofu. He suddenly discover that one, he is married to Yingxing (Ren’s name before he became the Demon lord) for half a year already. Two he is also one of the people who abused him, three Yingxing is nothing like the Demon lord Ren he saw, where was the cruel Demon lord who plunged the world into chaos. This man seems docile and why is he kneeling in the garden in the middle of winter?! (“Master Dan Feng, you are the one who ordered him to do this….”his servant reminds him) Oh great! not off to a great start, why didn’t he travel to the time before he got married to him, how is he supposed to win the trust of someone who is wary of him already. also another hurdle is that he doesn’t know how he will interact with him esp the last time he saw him he slaughtered his friends how the heck would he interact with the murderer but that was him from the future, This is now and he will make sure he would succeed in his mission with the hand that he is dealt with but first he gets him out of there and stops the “punishment” that Dan Feng gave him.

Yingxing was confused on the sudden change of attitude with Dan Feng, he was suspicious and distrustful of this “new” Dan Feng since it might be another one of his ploys and it's back to beatings again.DH also finds out that the servants disrespect him and DF does nothing about it and just lets his servants, he doesn't really care about his husband cuz he is just a hostage prince.

Yingxing is a prince from Zhuming who was sent to Luofu as hostage as part of the peace treaty between two kingdoms and was chosen to be Dan Feng’s betrothed. DH tries to be nice to him but all he get is wary glances, one time he was able to make Yingxing talk, YX tries to warn him that whatever he is planning now gotta stop as if it would change his opinion of him because at the end of the day DF would still treat him as he always does. DH asks why he thinks that and finds out what he thought of everyone of how everyone simply enjoys on hurting the weak altho he hasn’t done anything to warrant such treatment” so DH asks him if he has any grudges he just answers with its already exhausting enough to survive in this hellish place he doesn't have energy to think about anything else.

It gave DH insight on YX and how he became Demon lord in the first place, no one showed him kindness and guided him on the right path since he was only shown cruelty so he will give back cruelty so he decided to be that person the one who will guide him to the right path.

After that, their relationship changes, DH tries to do things for him like feeding him proper food, buying him proper winter clothes, and hanging out with him. YX slowly warms up to DH since even though they don't talk much his presence is comforting since he is not alone anymore. YX thought that DF is starting to care for him but all of that was dashed when he accidentally eavesdrop on DF and crown prince Yubie, DH tries to act like the haughty prince that DF is since his brother inquired on the sudden shift in attitude with YX, He thought he hated him so he tells his brother that he extended kindness since he is worried that it wouldn't be good for the kingdom if Zhuming finds out they mistreated their prince, The peace treaty is already delicate as it is. If Yubie thinks that DF cares for YX, don't because he can’t truly care for him, it’s impossible ... he never liked him from the start anyway, he hates him with every fiber of his being.

YX was disappointed and furious because all of the kindness that was shown to him by DF wasn't genuine and was all just a ploy. Most of all he was angry with himself for believing it, he should've known, people dont change that easily. He was deceived by that kindness, that DF only cares so that Luofu would be safe but in the end they still think that he is a jinx who only brings disasters. For the first time, he wanted vengeance which activated his dormant powers

YX tried to unleash his newfound powers at a royal banquet hosted by Yubie by summoning spirits, he was surprised on how DF was able to protect his brother with warding charms, he didn’t expect DF to be capable like that. DH found YX and tried to protect him with his body from the spirits that surrounded them, this left YX perplexed so he got rid of the spirits.

DH was relieved that they are both safe now and checks if YX is injured anywhere while YX internally wonders if DF hates him why would he sacrifice himself to save him? YX is prepared to trust him again since for him actions speak louder than words, so he confronts DF on why go back and save him since he saw that he was running out of the mansion. DH tells him that they are husbands am i not suppose to protect you and be with you for better or worse

YX asks if he likes him, DH reluctantly answers yes and reasons out that they have grown fond of each other since they have spent time together recently.

YX: If you like me, teach me those charms you used this way we can spend more time together

DH: why would you want to learn that?

YX: because i also want to be capable of protecting my loved one

DH is surprised that someone like him suddenly has something he wants to protect, so he agrees and makes him promise to take care of himself too because he really doesn’t want to risk his life to save him again.

They spend time in the library with DH teaching YX illusion charms, he shows him an illusion of maple forest, and a vast galaxy of stars. They became closer and fell asleep on each other till Yubie found them the next day which embarrassed DH greatly.

They also went out and spent the whole day at a festival which made YX loosen up and felt special since all of DF's attention was on him, they even played in the snow and lit up fireworks. YX was smiling at DF as he watched him light up fireworks, he starts falling for him now.

Messengers from zhuming secretly contacted yx to let him know that he needs to go back to his kingdom and take back the throne from the usurpers since his father is now bedridden but why should he when they were the ones who threw him here in the first place being a cursed prince.

Also he doesn't want to go back since DF is in luofu but the situation seems dire if the messengers started begging so YX tried to take DF with him but refused since it can be seen as DF defecting and betraying the luofu if DF goes with him so yx has kidnaps him instead.

While on the boat to zhuming, it was revealed that the messengers were in on it too and tried assassinating yx but with yx powers slaughtering them was easy and DH who managed to escape from captivity witnessed this scene.

Even after all the time they spent dh still doesn't trust yx after all it's still his mission to prevent the demon lord rising. And his current actions just proves that his real nature cant be changed as he could easily slaughter people.

DH escaped by jumping from the ship, YX also follows later even with his powers he is still human, injured and outnumbered. Once ashore, he also find yx weak from injuries and apparently poisoned too so he tries to nurse him back to health and tells him he isn't allowed to die. When he is well enough, DH leaves him near zhuming where attendants who are still on yx side found him. He returned to Zhuming, overthrew the usurpers and was crowned emperor.

DH travels all around zhuming trying to find a clue about shuhu’s flesh, DH believes he can find information about it on yx homeland. At the same time Yubie deploys an army to rescue his brother that yx kidnapped and orders they kill yx afterwards.

-ARC 1 END-

Stay tuned for Arc 2~

[hyperfixat]

hbd to me!!!!!!! here’s a vent fic i wrote a few months ago so proceed with caution; reader attempted suicide, reader continues to have suicidal thoughts/attempts, reader seeks harm onto themself (both from external sources and self inflicted), reader is depressed!!! be sure to evaluate your mental state before reading this fic :3. this also contains a scene that i felt compelled to write for some reason involving assisted hygiene: idk i felt that needed a little acknowledgment..

ik its my birthday fic and it proably should be happy, but theres a bit of hurt comfort to this that i love and i polished it up to share so that hopefully u like it too.. again heed my warnings^

also final note; formatted on my pc, sprry if its funky

The first thing you feel upon waking up is disappointment.  This… you rub your face with your hands.  You can’t do anything right, you sigh.  Waking up is a clear sign of a failure as to your plans.

Although you frown as you observe your surroundings, this isn’t where you would be if someone had caught you attempting to take your life.  You wouldn’t be dumped in the middle of a sunny field.  This isn’t a hospital or ward, in fact there’s no sign of any modern buildings from where you sit.

Just where are you…?

You use shaky arms to lift yourself up, and begin to attempt to find a way home.  Or for something to just kill you.

What luck, you realize morbidly, you spawned on a plateau, and that’s all you allow yourself to think before breaking into a sprint and running both to and over the edge.

You hit the plains with a crack and you wheeze out a pained groan.  Before you can lift yourself up to try again or seek help or check for any witnesses, you feel your body fade away. It’s a weightless feeling as you sink into the earth of Teyvat.

There is not much pain, not as much as you had hoped or expected.  In ways this is a pro, for you are a coward in the face of pain no matter deserved or otherwise.

You fade, but not into the hold of death, at least you don’t think this is death, rather you fade from your spot crumpled on the ground into a sitting position firmly in the arms of an Anemo Statue of Seven.  The marble orb of Barbatos’ lookalike stops you from falling out of the statue’s arms and you heave a sigh.

How unfortunate.  It seems you cannot permanently die here.  Though… what if it was a fluke…?  With another bone deep sigh you fall to the ground and walk back to the ledge and stare down at the fifty foot drop.

Before you work up the courage to take the plunge a high, excited voice calls out for you.  You flinch, opening your eyes to see a youthful bard dressed in Mondstatian green, holding his hands out for you.  Venti is sprinting towards you and you take a step back nervously.  He seems to recognize you… but how could that be?  

His face falls as you back away and his sprint slows when he’s a few yards away from being able to reach out to you.  Venti calls your name again.  He falters, the smile adorning his face slips.

“Wait…” his voice wavers.  “What are you doing, Divine One?”

Why did he call you that…?  Is it some Mondstat greeting of sorts?  You can’t kill yourself in front of him and retraumatize the poor guy, so you allow him to get closer to you, and you don’t stop him when he sweeps his lythe form down into a kneeling bow.

“Hello.”  You greet, unsure of how one is supposed to act when approached by a fictional character.

Venti lifts his gaze from the ground up to your face, looking downright awestruck.

“I, we, have long awaited your descent, Divine One, it is an honor to have you grace the lands of Freedom with your presence first.”  

Uh-oh.  He seems to have confused you with someone else, because you are certainly no one special and definitely not any sort of divine.  How are you gonna break that to him without too much embarrassment on either of your parts?

“Please, come with me to the city, I’m certain the people will be delighted to host the one who shaped the world.”  His voice is high with a musical lilt, and it’s hard to decline him.

“I’m sorry,” your voice comes out dry, and you realize you’re terribly dehydrated.  “I think there’s been a mistake.  I’m not whoever you think I am.”

You take a step back, backing yourself up the hill onto higher ground.

“Whatever do you mean, Divine One?  Your presence is unmistakable.”

You shake your head, stepping further away from the Archon.  Venti reaches his hand out to grasp at the bottom hem of your pajama pants.  “Please!  I’ve waited so long for you.”  He falls onto his knees to beg.

Fuck, his eyes are so pretty when he pleads.  You don’t want to risk angering whatever God he’s mistaking you with, though, “Venti….”  

The blue-green sky of his eyes turns to the color of the ocean as tears well up in his waterline.  His whole body shivers when you utter his chosen name.  “I can keep it a secret from the public.  Surely only Archons and those blessed with a Vision will be able to sense you.  We can keep it quiet, please, Divine One, I beg of you.”

“I’m not this Divine One you speak of,” you kneel and place a hand on his hat.  Venti’s eyes search yours with confusion. As he lifts his head, your hand presses into the curve of his skull, making him lean harder into your touch.

“Th-That’s okay, please just stay in Mondstadt for a night, that’s all I wish.”  He doesn’t believe you, that’s clear, but he seems so eager to appease you.

You pause, looking away from the pathetically begging archon.  His hands clench on your pant fabric.

“Okay.  Just for the night.”  You hope no one else from Mondsat is as strange as Venti is…

“I don’t have any way to pay for this,” you smile at Diluc, placing a hand on the side of the glass to push it back across the counter.

“I wouldn’t dream of making you pay, please drink all you wish.  Let me know if it isn’t to your taste.”

“Does that apply to their guide as well, Master Diluc?”

“No.”

“A shame,” Venti sighs, taking a deep drink from his glass.

You have to hand it to Venti, he is a good guide.  He’s quick to shut down any vision holder you come across with a quick whisper in their ear, and he truly knows Mondstadt in and out.

The bell above the door jingles as it swings open, and you glance behind you in time to see Rosaria come strolling in with a timid Barbara clutching the back of her cathedral robes.  She must not visit the Angel’s Share much, seeing as the hydro-user looks around with quick, nervous eyes.  When her eyes land on you they widen comically, her small hand darting out to steady herself on Rosaria’s forearm.

—

“Farewell, my Divinity,” “Safe travels, Divine One,” and “May the wind bless your travels, Your Grace,” follow your retreating form as you make the hike to Dragonspine.  

Honestly you aren’t certain where you’re heading.  If the other nations treat you the same as Mondstadt, that's a no-go.  You won’t know unless you go, though.  Maybe you should head the same route the Traveler would.  That would mean Dragonspine is your next destination.  

Who will you meet there?  Albedo…?  He’s the only one you can think of that stays there.

As you begin the trek you realize; he’s a research-type dude, you hesitate to say scientist, but he does experiments and such.  Perhaps, you can make use of yourself by giving your body up to him to work on.  Surely an undying body would greatly interest the research of life?

After a surprisingly simple search you find him and present your proposition.

“Absolutely not,” Albedo dismisses you without thought.  He doesn’t even bother to spare you a look.  “That is blasphemy of the highest order, I’d suggest giving that attitude up sooner rather than later.”

You flinch back at the words, taking a step back into the chill of Dragonspine.

“I can offer you sanctuary here if you seek it, but I will not harm you.”  

“That’s…” not at all what you want.  “That’s very kind of you to offer, but I must decline.”

His haunting blue eyes follow you down the snowy path to Liyue.  Once you are far too away to hear, he states calmly, “safe travels.”

As you walk down the icy paths lining the gravel streets you think… Albedo had rejected you just like that.  What’s the next step?

You might as well stop by Liyue Harbor, maybe meet some characters before… before maybe heading to Sumeru?  

Ahhah! It hits you then, the harbinger introduced in Sumeru: Il Dottore.  If Albedo had reservations, then Dottore would have none.

Even still, Liyue is a harbor.  You’re sure to find a way to Snezhnaya from there.

You almost get to the docks without drawing any attention to yourself.  Almost.

Your mistake laid in the fact that you passed the Golden House, the weekly Childe Boss fight.  In your defense you didn’t actually think he’d be in there.  And it’s not like you even went in, only going up the steps and around for a detour.  

And it was a quick route until a strangled gasp came from behind you, making you spin around in alarm.  There, Tartaglia stood, with pupils nearly the size of his gray-blue eyes, staring, completely enraptured by your visage.  Your knees buckle and you make to sprint, but your body is no match for a Fatui Harbinger.

In retrospect you’re not entirely sure what drove you to run, perhaps some fight or flight instinct buried inside of you.

His long hand wraps around your forearm, tugging you to a stop, you face him, and your face must portray your panic clearly because Tartaglia’s twists into sorrowful sympathy.

“My Divinity… it is an honor to meet you in the flesh.”

“Let go.”  He does, promptly so. 

“I’m sorry, I got ahead of myself.  May I ask where you are headed, and if you are in need of company?”

“No.  Thank you, Childe.” 

His face shifts into a serious look, nodding.  “Do you need an escort to Liyue then?  Is that where you’re heading?” 

“No.  I know where I’m going, and I much prefer to go alone.” It’s not entirely false, you know where you’re headed, just not how.

“Well… be safe, okay?  I hope to see you again.”

“I will.”  The lie comes out and you cringe, because its delivery falls flat and its so obviously untrue.

“Does Mr Zhongli know you’re here?  Surely you’re here to see Morax?” He strolls to your other side, offering a hand to lead you to the city.  You ignore the hand.

“Goodbye, Tartaglia.”

“I can’t let you leave alone in good conscience…. You don’t seem well.  Let me lead you to the harbor at least.”

Since he is as unmoving as stone, you let him take you to the main city, managing to ditch him before more people can know about your presence.

The boats docked at Liyue Harbor are hopeful.  “Where is this ship headed?” you ask one of the dock workers.  They look up at your voice before glancing at the ship they’re loading up with lumber.

“Snezhnaya.” They say glancing up at the grand vessel.  “Why?  Where’re you tryna go, friend?”  

“Snezhnaya.  How much does the fare cost, one way?”

—

“News of your travels have reached Snezhnaya, Divine One.”  Dottore starts, fixing his posture from a lean on a surgical table to something more proper.  You shake your head, the weariness you’ve accumulated on your journey weighing down on you.  You’re finally where you deserve to be.

“I’m not the Divine One you speak of, Dottore.”

“Hm?  Do you think so little of my intelligence?  Your presence is unmistakable.”

“No, it’s not that.  But I’m not.  I’m just a regular person.  And I came to you for a reason.”

“Oh?  The Creator themself, seeking me out?  It’s an honor,” the doctor bows to you, smirking at you from beneath his beaklike mask.

“I need you to hurt me.”

“What?”  He pulls himself up with a startled question.  “I’m afraid I misheard you, Divine One.”

“I can’t die, Dottore.  I’m giving myself to you, you…” you heave a sigh as you explain your reasoning.  “You could make use of me.  I’m not whoever you think I am, please just take me.  I don’t care what you do to me.”

“You’re… giving yourself to me?”  

“Yes.”

“Do you know what happens to my… patients?”

“Yes, that's why I’m here.  I can’t die, I imagine I would make a good test subject.”

“Is this a test?”  Dottore seems to be speaking to himself more than anything.  He pushes away from the table and paces to the back room of the lab, muttering madly to himself as he does so.  The door swings open with a loud screeching and you catch sight of multiple mops of blue hair and masks.  

His Segments.

You can hear a conversation ongoing between all of the parts of Zandik, it seems he doesn’t want to be rash and take you in too hastily.  You can understand his (their?) hesitancy; if a god offered themselves up to you, you would surely think it was a trap.  But you aren’t a god, so it should be a no brainer for him.  How often does he get consenting test subjects?

It seems this absurd idea of you being a higher power has infiltrated Snezhnaya as well, which is… not good. Everyone is saying you’re more than what you are, you can’t be a god, you barely consider yourself a human.

An older, completely unmasked Segment sticks his head out of the door, frowning once he makes eye contact with you.  There’s gray leaking from his roots into the teal of Dottore’s hair, and visible aging lines on his face; crows feet and tension on his cheekbones.  Glowing red eyes narrow upon meeting your own, mouth pulling into a tight line.

A younger segment, smaller in size and stature, with a nearly full face mask, only showing part of his mouth.  You think that is the one that the Fandom surrounding him dubbed Webttore.  You usually see pictures of him with a wide, jagged-tooth smile, but, like his older part, he looks solemn.

You wonder just how many Segments Il Dottore has, because you can still hear an entire conversation going on without the two.

The conversation seems to be dying down, not ending without a few red eyes peeking out from behind the door at you.  It’s surreal seeing so many versions of the same person at once; the youthful ones, eyes wide, and the older ones with wrinkles built with time and age, all at the same moment in time.

Eventually though, they do seem to come to a verdict: the Omega segment, the one you met upon walking into his lab, exits, closing the door behind him with a click that resonates through the room.

His answer is a simple word.  “No.”

Your heart drops and stomach sinks at the rejection, and based on il Dottore’s reaction it must show.  “Why?” your voice is small and sounds foreign to your own ears.

“I cannot forsake the true god in such a way, whether you acknowledge it or not, you have that power.”

All the turmoil and hardships it took to get here come crashing down, the light at the end of the tunnel is rejecting you.  You hadn’t known this was something that could happen, your… your savior, the one you were looking for is telling you no.  He won’t lay a finger on you, and it’s tearing you apart.  This was the only thing that kept you from burying yourself in the deep forest of Sumeru and letting yourself rot.

“Oh.” It’s shaky and you nod, trying to take it maturely.  “I see.”  Your voice is warbling like you're on the verge of tears.  Blinking rapidly to dispel the water from your eyes, you lower your head and make to scamper out of the lab.

Dottore lets out a heavy sigh, and his leather gloves wrap around your wrist.

“Wait.”  You nervously glance up at his mask.

“You said you would ‘give yourself to me,’ no?”

Your heart pounds heavily in your chest, “yes.”  Has he suddenly changed his mind? You shouldn't get your hopes up.

“I will take you.  I doubt you will appreciate my intentions, but if I were to own you, you wouldn’t be able to complain.  After all, you will have done it to yourself.”

You don’t know what those words mean, but the stinging rejection welling up in your eyes turns to relief. “Thank you,” he doesn’t stop you from dashing to his side and wrapping your arms around his waist.  You press your face into his abdomen, letting his clothes soak up your tears.  A hesitant hand rubs over your spine, an effort to soothe you.

You pull yourself together, sucking in a deep breath of the sterile lab air.  

“Alright,” Dottore says after he deems you put together enough.  “Come.”  His hand covers your wrist, gently tugging you behind him.  You aren’t sure where he is leading you, as he takes you out of the lab.  The halls are tall and gorgeously crafted, intermittent with intricate moldings on the wall.  

It’s a small room you find yourself in, but it is infinitely better than the wilderness.  The size is comparable to an average hotel room.  Dottore instructs you to sit and stay on the bed, which you do obediently.  Nerves swirl inside of you, as to where he has gone and what he will bring back with - when he will return, if at all.

Il Dottore knows.  While he is not well versed on human, much less godly, psychology, he can tell you’re depressed when you first stumbled your way into his workstation. Besides, he’d be hard pressed to deny the rumors from various agents that had been located in places you’d traveled through.

With a small caddy in his hands Dottore kneels next to the nightstand and places a hand on your shoulder to force you to lay down.  “Arm.”  Is what he prompts for you to let him maneuver your arm to lay open and flat over the edge of the bed. 

The scent of alcohol alerts you to the sanitary wipe before you feel the chill of it.  You keep your eyes trained on the ceiling as you feel the slight pinch of a needle  and a clicking as an IV is deposited into your arm.  Out of the corner of your eye you see Dottore set up a drip, but you don’t bother to ask what it is, the excitement of the day catching up with you.

Il Dottore eventually leaves the room in silence after pushing an odd vial of liquid into the drip, not bothering to look behind him as he closes the door and leaves with confident strides.

Although it’s entirely possible it’s simply the Placebo Effect, as the drip spreads throughout your veins you can feel your eyes getting heavier and heavier.  Before long you can no longer keep them open and slip into a dreamless sleep.

You wake up to a Mirror Maiden tidying up the nightstand next to you.  You observe her work, wondering how she can manage to navigate with the blind pulled over her eyes.  She startles when she catches your eyes on her, though returns back to work, quietly disposing of the used needles from earlier.  You wonder what The Doctor has injected you with; wonder if he added more of whatever it is while you were unconscious.

There’s a brisk, impatient knock on the door and the Maiden straightens up, taking hold of everything to discard and striding over to change positions with Tartaglia behind the door.

You stay flat on your back, looking at the ginger in mild surprise.  Last you saw him he was in Liyue and set to stay for quite a while.  Had he heard you gave yourself away to Il Dottore?   Is he here to plead for you to change your mind?

But to your bemusement he stays quiet, walking over to and kneeling next to your bed.  Instead of speaking he merely rests his head on the nightstand, dull blue eyes gazing at you sadly, yet reverently.

You’re unsure of how long you look up at the ceiling, doing your best to ignore Tartaglia’s eyes on you.  His gaze is unwavering, and eventually, you turn your head to the side, meeting his eyes.

“I’m sorry for my behavior in Liyue.  I was too excited to see you, and my manners deserted me.”

“It’s okay.” You croak, throat dry from sleep.  “I was dismissive as well.”

Dottore doesn’t bother to knock when he comes in.

“I see you’re awake and seem to have found a stray harbinger.”

Tartaglia doesn’t react to his entrance, merely moving to the far end of the bed, laying his head on the covers near your feet.  You realize someone has drapped a plain, solid color duvet over your body when you slept. 

“Are you feeling anything out of the ordinary?” Dottore asks, checking the emptied IV bag.  He unclips it and pulls a fresh one from his lab coat pocket.

You take the moment to assess (how do you spell it) your body.  In all honesty you’re feeling much better, the hydration from the drip really made a difference.

“I feel hydrated.”

Dottore hums, he sounds disinterested.  “How’s your appetite? Can you stomach anything for me?”  He clips a new bag onto the pole, screwing it into your IV’s tube. “Stand if you can.” 

Dottore’s eyes watch you intensely behind his mask, observing how you tremble when you put a leg onto the floor.  “Childe, help them and follow me.”

Tartaglia scrambles to steady your arm as you fully get out of the bed, wrapping the one without the needle in it around his shoulder to support you.  You stiffen, but aren’t in any position to be able to get around without him, not with the emptiness of your stomach and the way black fades into your vision when you stand.  “Get them to the restroom, take care of their needs.  I will return with what they will eat.”

“Come on, I got you,” Tartaglia assures as he leads you to the ensuite restroom. It’s nothing too fancy; simply a sink, shower, and toilet.

You eye the toilet, realizing how long it’s been since you’ve relieved yourself.  A shower would also be nice…

“Allow me to assist you, Divine One,” Tartaglia remains stoic and respectful as he shimmies your pants and underwear down your legs, letting you support yourself on his broad shoulders as you step out of the pant holes.  After making sure you get to the toilet safely he turns around and starts the shower faucet.

The sound of the water helps you get over your pee shyness and by the time Tartaglia finishes soaking and preparing a cloth for you, you’ve finished and are ready to bathe.

With weak arms you gather the hem of your shirt in your hands and remove the remainder of your clothes.

Tartaglia helps you get clean with warm, respectful touches, passing you the cloth for you to clean more intimate areas, before helping you out of the shower and wrapping a large, soft towel around your body.  It’s huge, covering the top of your bust to well past mid-calf, looping around your body almost twice.  He tucks the towel tightly with practiced precision. 

“Il Dottore will be back soon, I’ll help you get dressed before he returns.  Do you have any material preferences?”

—

You sit up in bed, feeling marginally better than the day before.  The day after that, and the day after that all proceed in a similar fashion; each time you feel just a little bit better.  More clear headed, a better appetite, less like a corpse walking.

Only after Dottore deems you well enough to remove the IV do you get your suspicions that it was more than just the proper nutrition making you feel better.  He still stops by your room twice a day for some shots; he encouraged you to choose where he would deposit them (when you said into your brain or through your chest, it did not amuse him).  It feels suspiciously like the antidepressants you’ve been on before.  

It only further confuses you, though.  Does he want you in a proper state of mind for something?  He has no reason other than unfounded faith to help you, you don’t like it.  It’s … uncomfortable receiving this type of care, knowing it’s only because they think you're better than who you really are.

The food they feed you, the clothes they dress you in, it's all much more than you deserve.

“What are you doing to me?”

“Pardon?” Dottore sets the syringe down with a metallic click.  Through his mask you can feel his gaze on you.

“You’re… you’re trying to— to…” the words fail you.

“Mitigate your depressive symptoms?  Yes, I am.  What of it?”  Il Dottore picks the syringe back up, pushing the knob back before stabbing it into the vial in his hand. He pulls the liquid up with ease before removing the needle and pushing to remove the excess air in the syringe.

“Why?”

“Hm?  Why would I not?”  He flicks the syringe and some liquid flies from the point of the needle.

“If I were anyone else you wouldn’t be doing this.”

“Indeed.”

“Haven’t you realized by now that I’m not who you think I am?  That I’m just a normal human in a horrible situation of being unable to die?”

“That is not so.  Your skin cultures and biopsy results do not share that conclusion.  Even if you continue to deny your god-hood, it changes nothing. I know for certain who you are, and you will remain in my care until you utilize your divine right to revoke such.”

Biopsy? When on Earth — Teyvat? — did that happen?  But there’s more important things to discuss with him for now, not that you care how or when it happened.  You’re more surprised you never noticed, that’s all.

“You’re wrong!”  You wail, tears finally coming for the first time in a while.  You had thrown your head back to speak, but now you collapse in on yourself with your head between your arms and legs.  It’s humid, but saves you from having to look at the doctor and his unreadable bird mask.

“Oh my,” you hear Dottore murmur, then he sets his medical supplies to the side and places a hand on your shoulder. He remains there while you sob, when finally the lack of speech seems to reach the boiling point, he heaves a sigh.  “If it is of any consolation, if it were to come to my attention that you are not in any way godly or divine, I would treat you the same.  I’ve put far too much care into you to just toss you aside..”

That consoles you, if only a little, damn the drugs making you want to continue life to see the future.   But you broke the dam of tears, and it’ll take a while for them to stop; you need to cry out everything that led you here….

Your… attempt that put you in Teyvat, the one you tried right after arrival, the false death, all the eyes and praise that aren’t meant for you.  It’s dysphoric.  

The lurches of your body with your cries, stitches your sides and you sniffle harder into the crevice your body makes, the moisture of the confined body space blending in with your tears.

“There now,” Dottore says, quieter as you get so as well.  “Perhaps some more rest will do you good.  I’ll be at the ready whenever you wake.”

[hansensgirl]

summary. | Your soulmate just wants you to be a good girl.

prompts. | Ransom Drysdale + Soulmate + “That’s no way to talk to your future husband.” + Captivity, requested by @americasass81.

pairing. | dark!Ransom Drysdale x fem!reader.

warnings. | NON/DUBCON, kidnapping, captivity, manipulation, pet names, mild stockholm syndrome, soulmate au, obsession, delusion, and more. 18+ MINORS DNI!

author’s note. | this is a part of my Dark Concepts (2023) request form. thank you for taking part in this event! please enjoy and don’t forget to reblog. MINORS DNI, 18+ ONLY! taglist: @hansensfics.

When Ransom comes home with many shopping bags, you ambush him. It takes him by surprise and then amuses him.

Your weak fists rain down on him as you fight, screaming at him to let you go. He chuckles the entire time, dropping the bags before grabbing you by the shoulders.

The rush of adrenaline is passive—gone in the blink of an eye once your captor shakes you, as if trying to snap you back to reality.

“What do you think you’re doing? Hm?” Ransom asks. The anger within you disappears immediately, fear replacing it. He hasn’t hurt you yet, but he has threatened you time and time again. You’ve seen his muscles and sadism to know that you should be afraid of his capabilities.

Especially when, in the eyes of the law, it wouldn’t be illegal. In fact—Ransom’s kidnapping of you, his soulmate, is fair. Anything to get lovers to unite. 

“Trying to escape, you sick fuck,” you spit, your tone venomous. But to Ransom, you’re adorable. He tsks, shaking his head and smiling. “That’s no way to talk to your future husband,” he tells you, and you let out a fake laugh. 

“In your dreams,” you scoff, going to turn around and walk away. But your captor doesn’t let you go. 

“Uh-uh, I didn’t say you could leave, brat,” he sneers, pushing you towards the couch. You fall onto the soft cushions with an ‘oomph,’ watching as Ransom returns to the door to lock it and grab his bags.

How did you not realize the door was still open? Your one chance at freedom has now escaped you entirely, and there’s nothing you can do about it. You sit there thinking as he places the bags on the couch, wondering what you would do if you managed to evade the trust fund prick.

You wouldn’t be able to get help. Your landlord probably got someone else to take up your space. Once, Ransom put the news on for you. It was about a week after he took you. You expected your face to show up on the screen, along with a tip line and information about your appearance and where you were last seen. But there was nothing. No one cared enough to help—except for Ransom. 

“I bought you some stuff since you were being such a good girl,” Ransom begins, throwing the sleek boxes and pouches next to you. You move back to make room, watching in confusion as he showers you with lavish presents. “But you just had to go and ruin it, huh?” he grunts.

Part of you feels bad. The other part begins a scathing monologue about your soulmate, but it feels forced. You have mixed feelings, turmoil stirring within you as you witness Ransom’s frustration over your misbehaviour.

You sigh out eventually, once he’s done his little tantrum. Ransom snaps his eyes towards you and squares his shoulders, placing his hands on his hips. His figure is broad, and you can see even through his sweater that he has large muscles. You gulp thickly.

“What? Got something to say to me?” he sneers, waiting for your following words. “I…” you start, knowing that once you say these words—once you give in—there’s no going back. 

Ransom raises his eyebrows. “I’m sorry,” you tell him, watching his face intently for a reaction. He remains stoic for a few moments until he gives you a smile. “There’s my good girl,” he grins, moving the items over so that he can sit next to you.

Your captor pulls you onto his lap and sighs. “I just want to love you, honey. But you make it so hard sometimes,” Ransom says. You fight back a grimace. “I know… I don’t mean to,” you admit, looking anywhere but at him.

One of Ransom’s hands grabs and turns your head to look at him. You stare into his eyes, noting that his pupils are blown out, but you don’t feel his boner. Could it truly be love? You want to say you’re foolish—stupid—but you’ve waited your entire life for your soulmate. And now he’s here.

“I know that. I just need you to meet me halfway, sweetie,” he tells you. You nod your head and find yourself relaxing within your captor’s hold. 

[qin-qin16]

SWEET SWEET LOVE

Summary: book tropes with Cross, Error and Ink!

cw.: 0.6 k content: sfw, short headcanons, hurt/comfort, everyone gets a happy ending… unless?, depressive thoughts in Error’s part, but nothing extreme!  note: i really don’t know how to end headcanons, but have fun anyway! Error's part was inspired by this post!

Cross - you fell first, he fell harder + dog poetry

You always compared Cross to a dog, one of those who trust in nothing and no one; 

They bark, they bite, they hurt anyone who crosses their path. No one wants to get close to a dog like that; 

However, you began to see more than just that wild layer that Cross seemed to want to display. Behind all that anger, all that hatred towards everything and everyone, the deep envy of happy worlds, you managed to see the pain, the fear of never being able to live happily again after so many sacrifices; 

And, just like a dog, Cross just needed to learn to trust again, and of course, you were willing to be the one to teach him; 

Both of you had to be patient—and you also had to be very understanding during Cross's outbursts of feelings or the moments when he wanted to be alone; 

It wasn't easy, but God, how worth it it was after all this time; 

As you like to say: you fell in love first, but Cross fell harder in love; 

It was like having a poorly trained guard dog: he would do anything to protect you. Bites, growls, endless fights if it meant your safety; 

He wouldn't lose you, not like he lost everyone else; 

And if not losing you meant acting like a dog, he would act.

Error - Soulmates + second chance 

Before Error became, well, Error, you knew him as Sans; 

Souls intertwined across different multiverses, but after a long time, they managed to find each other again — even after Sans' death and his afterlife state (Geno); 

For a long time, you lived like this: a love between a ghost and a living, souls that should not have been separated by death; 

However, something changed. Overnight, he simply disappeared; 

No more gentle touches, no more whispered promises before sleep, no more starry nights where only the two of you were witnesses to your love; 

Any mere memory of him was like digging a hole deeper and deeper, a hole that, no matter how much you dug, seemed to have no end; 

So, was this what it was like to lose a soulmate? 

But even as this emptiness consumed you more and more, something deep within your SOUL would not let you give up, an unknown determination that refused to let you believe Sans had vanished forever; 

And your SOUL was right... well, partly right; 

Sans was indeed alive, but no longer as Sans; 

Again, something happened, and now you found yourself facing Error who, with great insistence, claims to be your former boyfriend; 

And even though your SOUL was telling you that yes, that was the Sans you knew, are you willing to give it a second chance? 

Whether he knows your answer or not, Error would not lose you again.

Ink - Enemies to friends 

Your first impression of Ink was far from pleasant; 

The disgust you felt for him at the moment was only surpassed by anger when he vomited black ink on your new shoes — and to top it off, he barely apologized, just turned and vanished behind another ink stain; 

Obviously, a presence as striking as Ink's wouldn't be easily forgotten by you, and sure enough, when he appeared in front of you again, you wanted to make him eat those same shoes (now permanently stained with ink); 

But to your surprise, he had returned to learn more about your universe (something he would explain much later what it meant); 

As much as you detested the idea of serving as a tour guide for someone like him, an airhead who had no consideration for anyone, you went along with it. After all, the sooner you started explaining how your universe worked, the sooner he would leave;

Through ups and downs, you ended up softening your heart towards Ink. Even though his lack of personal space sometimes irritated you, you could see a certain fascination in him every time he talked about universes and art, and whether you liked it or not, you also felt sorry for him for not having a soul; 

And like a great (new) friend, he even promised to take you to other universes to explore and have fun — what could possibly go wrong?