#because at the time i was really bad in my depression but saw beauty in the world nonetheless just not in me and my life

[fallowfield]

Mama was ALWAYS about being trans bitch!!! lets get you some fruit.

[amongemeraldclouds]

Down Bad

Theo runs to the Astronomy Tower to confess his feelings for you before it’s too late.

Theodore Nott x f!Reader

Warning: fluff, no use of y/n, kissing. Inspired by the Taylor Swift song with the same title. The first paragraph may sound grim, but I swear this is a fluff piece!

✿ Masterlist | 762 words

Theodore Nott had really screwed up this time. His lungs burned and his heart pounded as he raced towards the Astronomy Tower where he was about to lose the love of his life. If he was too late, you would never know how he felt. Let alone have the future he wanted with you. No, he can’t think that way.

He allowed himself a moment catch his breath when he reached the top of the Astronomy Tower. When he saw you looking out beyond the ledge, his worst fears were confirmed. He ran towards you and grabbed your waist, holding tight as he walked backwards. You yelped in surprise, struggling against your unexpected assailant.

The struggle sends you both toppling down the floor, away from the ledge. You squirmed beneath - oh, Theo. Your breath caught in your throat when you realized he’s on top of you. Salazar, everything about him was so beautiful. You kicked yourself internally, willing your brain to catch up with your heart.

“What in Salazar’s name, Theo! What are you doing?” You seethed, angry and confused. You had been avoiding him for a week since he broke your heart. Picture this: you finally mustered up the courage to confess your feelings for your childhood best friend only to be met by silence - not even rejection, just silence. Like your feelings were not even worth his words. And now he tackles you?

“No, I should be saying that to you. What are you thinking jumping off from the Astronomy Tower? You can’t just leave me before I tell you that I love you too.” His intense gaze burned into you.

You blinked at his words, confused. “Pray tell, dear genius, what does one do at the Astronomy Tower?”

It was his turn to blink back in confusion. He looked off to your side and noticed your telescope and scattered instruments. He was too stunned to speak.

“I was doing our Astronomy homework, you dolt, which you would know about if you weren’t busy skiving off with Mattheo.”

“But Pansy said you’ve been depressed lately and was alone in the Astronomy Tower,” he thought back at the conversation. Sure, you had been down bad for him and because of him this week. You couldn’t even get through quidditch practice without crying and cursing his name.

And yet - “So you just assumed I’m going to throw my life away for you?” You scoffed. “I’ll get over you someday, but I don’t know how you’ll ever get over yourself,” you teased. It was adorable how his cheeks blushed in embarrassment though you hated how quickly your anger faded.

He buried his head into the crook of your neck to hide in shame just like all those times you’ve cuddled together. Your hands wrapped around his shoulders out of habit. “I didn’t know what I was thinking,” he admitted. 

“So there is hope yet for you and your ego,” you mused before your mind snagged on the rest of his words. “Wait, did you tell me you love me?”

He raised his head and looked back at you, “I did. I’m sorry I froze when you confessed your feelings. You deserved better. I’m not good with these things, but for you I will try. I love you. Ti amo così tanto.”

“Well, you already know how I feel,” you deadpanned, trying to channel your teenage petulance despite the warmth blooming in your chest. 

“I don’t get to hear it again?” He asked with a hopeful expression.

“No,” you replied, tilting your head away from him though you couldn’t hide the grin on your face.

“Too bad, I was hoping to kiss you after you said it.”

You looked back at him, returning the challenge, “kiss me and maybe I’ll say it.” 

So he did. Electric bliss shot through you the instant your lips connected. His lips were soft and warm, the taste of cigarettes and mint mingled together as he ran his tongue along your bottom lip. You gasped at the sensation and he took the opportunity to explore your mouth.

There was nothing gentle about the kiss. It was a hundred ‘finally’s melting together into this one euphoric moment. You ran your hands through his hair, needing him closer. Needing more.

The kiss was over way too soon as he propped himself on his elbows to look at you. He saw everything he needed to know in your expressive eyes. Still, he asked, “will you tell me now?”

“No,” you bit back a smile.

“Guess I’ll just have to kiss you more.”

✿ Masterlist

A/N: A literal Down Bad moment with Theo tackling you bahahaha.

[canyonmooncreations]

Call Me

Summary: Y/n calls her best friend, Simon, when her boyfriend finally pushes things too far.

Characters: BestFriend!Simon x reader

Word Count: 1.6k

Author’s Note: Purely self indulgent, fuck ex boyfriends 

Warnings: mean/potentially abusive boyfriend, tears, mentions of violence

You and your boyfriend, Ben, had been on and off for over a year. It was always up and down, happy and sad. He was a little controlling but was always sweet after. He was angry but also super patient. So hard to predict, it was draining. The only person you can really talk to is your best friend Simon. He was always supportive and always listening no matter what time you called. He supported you rather he agreed with your decision to go back to your boyfriend or not. And you were always in touch with Simon even if your boyfriend was not a fan of “that freak”.

You had recently just graduated from the college where you met Ben and moved to a town that was in the middle of him, Simon, and your family. You had finally gotten your own space and had started the big girl job of your dreams. You couldn’t be happier…. Until it started. 

Your boyfriend was an hour and a half away and with this new space it felt like he had grown a whole new confidence. He was always starting fights and nothing you did was good enough for him. You tried to be happy, but it just seemed like you couldn’t win. Simon knew about what was happening, you called him often to talk about it all. Simon was so supportive and validating your feelings when you needed him most. You used to have the biggest crush on Simon, but you knew you never had a chance with a guy like him. You settled on being friends and then you met Ben. But Simon was the only person you wanted right now.

What you didn’t know was that every time you called him his heart skipped a beat. Simon knew you were just friends and he would never have a chance with a girl like you so he settled for being your best friend. Every time you mentioned Ben, his blood boiled and his fist clenched. He wanted nothing but for you to be happy. Ben was so bad for you. Simon knew Ben read through all of your text messages, so he encouraged you to call him just to be safe. Ben was not typically violent, but Simon knew the patterns and knew it was coming. Of course he couldn’t tell you this because he knew you wouldn’t listen until you were ready for it on your own time. 

What Simon also knew was that your freshman year of college was nothing but depression and alcohol. He was hopeful but knew something bad with Ben could send you down the spiral. He was always waiting for that call to come. The call where you would need him the most. That call finally came. 

Simon was working around his flat, doing some, his least favorite, when his phone rang. It was y/n. The picture he had chosen for you was a picture he had taken at an arcade with you smiling silly holding up the bear you had won (with his tickets). 

“Hey lovey”

“Simon, I- I-”

“What’s wrong?”

“Simon, we got in a big fight and he said he was coming over and I am really scared that he --”

“I am on my way.”

“Simon, no. I live like an hour away from you.”

“I will be there in 45 minutes.”

“Simon! It is an hour drive.”

“Fine. I’ll be there in 30.” 

He hung up at that as you giggled and sniffled. You knew you shouldn’t call him. He probably gets so annoyed hearing all of your problems. But, he was your support system. You decided you would wait for him, right where you were, the bathroom floor. Simon has an apartment key, he can let himself in.

Your head kept racing with thoughts. Was Ben worth it? Was it worth the heartache? What would you tell your friend if they were in your shoes? Did you deserve this? You didn’t think you were the best girlfriend. 

Before you knew it you were sobbing and curling into a towel on your bathroom floor. Too busy crying, you didn’t hear the door open. It was a pitiful sight really and Simon was saddened by what he saw. The world’s most beautiful girl sobbing on her bathroom floor over a boy who didn’t deserve her at all. 

‘“Oh, love.” Simon lowered himself to the floor right beside you. He pulled your head into his lap and ran his fingers through your hair. This was the most soft, innocent touch you had felt in a while. You only cried harder at the thought of someone loving you like they should. You both stayed on the floor until the sobbing subsided after some time had passed. 

“Y/n, can we move this to your bed? This floor can’t be comfy.”

“It is comfier than walking to my bed.” You sniffled as you spoke and this broke his heart. 

“Okay, then….” you felt him set your head back on the towel and his body raise off the floor. You looked at him with confusion as he bent down to pick you up. You giggled as he carried you to your bed. You loved being carried but Ben refused to because it was “childish”. You smacked Simon’s arm as he put you in bed.

“Si, why did you do that?”

“A pretty girl like you should not be crying on the bathroom floor. You will cry in a comfy pillow castle.” He situated your pillows just the way he knew you loved them.

You only smiled at him. You got cozy in bed as Simon walked into the kitchen. The thoughts started racing and the tears started to fall. What if Ben was really coming to “settle this in person and show you who is in charge”. It felt like such a threat, your worst fear coming true. Simon walked back into the bedroom with a juice box and some animal crackers, your favorite.

“What’s the matter?” Simon approached the bed slowly, not sure where your mental state was and how frightened you could be.

“What if he shows up tonight? What if he tries to come inside?”

“Does he have a key?”

“No.”

“Good. Either way, I will be sleeping on the couch and can beat his ass, easily and with pleasure. So nothing to worry about. You’ll be all safe here, princess.”

You only smiled at him as you took the snacks softly. Simon always calls you nicknames, but never this one. You ate your snacks in silence as Simon started to put away your laundry. He knew you hated doing laundry, it was your least favorite chore. It is actually his least favorite too, but he told you it was his favorite and for you, it was. Ben always called you lazy and gross for not putting your laundry away right as it came out of the dryer.

“I can do that.”

“I know.” Simon gave you a reassuring smile. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“Not really. It’s stupid. I am probably overreacting.”

“Your feelings are valid y/n, no matter what you are feeling. I will listen if you want me to. If not, we can talk about anything else.”

“Do you want to watch a movie?”

“Of course”  You could see that Simon was so excited and you knew he would even let you pick the movie. (Ben would never)

“We can watch… hmmm… I can’t pick.”

“Slasher…”

“Simon! No! You know I hate scary movies. Let’s watch Zootopia.”

“Anything for you.”

You got the movie set up as Simon grabbed some more snacks. You loved these simple moments with Simon. You knew he wouldn’t get angry with you for moving the wrong way, or eating too many snacks. He was simply there in peace. You felt yourself getting tired as the movie played and the tears were about to come back. 

“Simon?”

“Yes, love.”

“Will you… hold me? No, that’s silly. I’m sorry. Forget I even asked.” You buried your face in your hands and the tears just started flowing. 

“Y/n.” He guided your head out of your hands as he wiped your tears. “I would love to hold you. You are not alone in this and I promise you are safe.”

Simon moved so you could comfortably be little spoon, which he knows you love because you always talk about it. He helped move your pillows and got you comfy. He never thought this moment would come. Of course, you had hugged and sat close together, but not like this. You were so vulnerable with all the raw emotions, and you chose him to hold you. With you in his arms, he wanted nothing more than to protect you from the world, and especially from Ben. 

“Thank you, Si.”

“Get some rest and we can talk about everything in the morning. I promise you’ll be safe tonight.” 

He rubbed your side and you cuddled in closer to him. You felt so safe. He felt at home, a feeling he has never felt before. He glanced at you as slept in his arms and couldn’t help but smile and be sad at the same time. You didn’t deserve this pain. You deserved a life of nothing but love and joy. A life he intended to give to you, if you let him. 

[hypnos333]

Hey I have a request for Lucifer x reader! Where the reader is like a sinner who did wrong things for their love. Like they weren’t a bad person simply in love! And they essentially did it to follow them in hell only for that “love” to betray them. So they decide to redeem themselves at the hotel and meets Lucifer in the process. Thank you for taking time to read this!

Imbalance

Lucifer x Reader

Synopsis: After getting betrayed you meant someone who wasn’t an obsession and was actually pure love

Tears ran down your face as you walked towards a familiar hotel with a backpack and your Beige suitcase. It was raining so people might mistake your tears as Raindrops and thankfully you won’t correct them. You carefully wiped your face just in case and opened the hotel door.

Charlie saw you and instantly got excited. “Hello! Are you here to stay and be redeemed!?” Charlie asked hopefully making more at eased.

“Yea, Uhm I’ve done stuff for love and never actually did stuff for me” You said nervously fiddling with your hoodie strings.

You actually reminded Charlie of her father being depressed because of being betrayed so she welcomes you with open arms.

“That’s okay, let me help you with that” She reassured before taking your suitcase before you could reject her.

“Let me lead you to your room miss-“___” You finished as she nodded excitedly before leading you upstairs to the guess room.

“Is there anyone else doing this?” You asked curiously as you walked beside her.

“Just one person but I guess you can say we force him a bit to do this but other than that it’s just you who seems to want to be redeemed. Demons usually don’t care for these types of things” Charlie said honestly making you nod in agreement.

You yourself are down here because you were just blinded by love. You did anything for your ex like helping him hide a body that he killed or things he asked you’ll immediately do.

“Here we are ____, Call me if you need anything and also breakfast starts at 8:00-9:30” Charlie said as she handed you a key to your room.

“Thank you” You mumbled before entering your room with your suitcase. And all honesty it was bigger than you expected. Plus you got a window to see all of hell.

You sigh before throwing your backpack off your shoulder then flopping on the comfortable bed before falling to sleep accidentally.

A soft knock made you open the door to see Charlie and another girl who looked more intimidating. “Hiii ___ I hope you don’t mind but me and my girlfriend will be escorting you to breakfast” Charlie cheerfully said making you smile at her.

“Of course let me get my sweater” You said before rushing to get your light pink sweater and then closing your door before walking in between the two.

“I’m vaggie by the way” The girl said making you introduce yourself all over again. You weren’t paying attention til you bump into some making you fall to the ground and him only stumble to balance himself.

He turned around and saw you, A beautiful-no A gorgeous woman. “I-I’m so sorry” He said before reaching out to help you up.

“Dad!” Charlie said excitedly, as Lucifer eyes sparkled continued after looking away from you. “Charlie!!!” He said hugging his daughter. You and Vaggie stand there waiting for the father,daughter to be done.

“Oh! ___ this is my dad lucifer and dad this is ___” Charlie introduced making both adults make heart eyes at each other.

“OR you can call me the big boss” Lucifer said jokingly said making you chuckle.

“It’s pleasure to meet the big boss himself” You said sending shivers down his spine and heart racing. He blushes as Vaggie and Charlie stare at the future new couple.

This led to you two being talkive to each other more making you put your trust in him to be able to tell him why you’re in hell.

“I had this Ex who was manipulative but I was really in love to not see it, So whenever he told me to help him hide a body I did it without a doubt and it was more then one time sadly” You said as tears came out your eyes.

He shushed you as he pulled you into him cuddling you. You cried in his shoulder as he rubbed your back making you sleep on his shoulder.

He kissed your forehead before putting you on his lap to get you in a more comfortable position.

A month later:

You woke this time feeling someone under you, His arms around your waist and legs intertwined with yours.

You carefully got up but Lucifer held you down more tightly. “Stay” He mumbled as he put lazy kisses on your neck with his hands slipped under your shirt to rub your back to get you back to sleep. You hummed in agreement feeling sleepy at his touch.

“I love you” You mumbled

“I love you too My Queen” He whispered in your ear.

[chuuyasheaven]

SUMMARY. It’s Chuuya’s Birthday today, and sadly he has to work till evening! He feels bad— for some reason— because he can’t spend the day with you. . But when he got home saw the food you made and a gift just waiting for him in your bedroom. .

TAGS. fem! Reader / Chuuya Nakahara, THIS A SMALL DRABBLE FOR THE FIC COMING, smut (p in v, praise, etc. idk), this is actually LAZILY written so yeah, idk anymore I’m just burnt out by school 😭, etc.

NOTES. Yes, I’m unfortunately still alive!!! Let me tell you buddy, writers block + finals anxiety/stress + depression is something you do NOT wanna experience at the same time. But yeah sorry for the late post I did not forget my blue eyed glorious beautiful most perfect man to walk this earth ginger sweet king’s birthday 🙏

Just imagine the guilt Chuuya felt for not spending the day with you. . Why? It’s his birthday today and you had a day planned for it but no, work had to be done. He did not expect to come home to his favorite meal next to a glass of wine on the table, but he’s still grateful of course! The meal wasn’t the only surprise though!!

Chuuya was laying on his back while you were on top of him, in the most beautiful lingerie he has ever seen, undressing him slowly. He felt a rush of adrenaline through his body, was this really happening? Well, yes, it was! It’s his birthday, of course he deserves only the best. A lot of thoughts were rushing through his head before Chuuya felt your breath on his neck. He had not noticed you bending down, but he did notice your kisses trailing from his neck to his chest. “Fuck!”, he gasped as you started to lick and suck on his nipple, where he was pretty sensitive.

“Feels good, Chu?”, you asked with a seductive undertone before switching nipples. Your hand ran up and down his stomach, making him shudder time to time. Done with his upper body, you moved to his lower body, unbuckling his belt and opening his pants with a smile. “Jus’ relax, okay?”, you cooed to him, continuing to free his lower parts from remaining clothes. “I’m tryin’ to, sweetheart. It’s hard when you’re being so. .”, Chuuya stopped mid sentence when you took his cock into your hand. “So what, Chu?”, he looked away from your gaze flustered. “C’mon, tell me. And look at me when you do.”, you commanded him nicely while you were already stroking his tip with your thumb, slow and gentle.

“. . When you’re being so. . perfect.”

23.53h/11.53pm, 30th April rn, HAPPY BIRTHDAY CHUUYA THE FIC IS BEING WORKED ON (fr tho)

[cuubism]

last year I saw this 1989 Dreamling art by @webonchin, became extremely obsessed with it, pondered and mulled over it for much time, and now ten whole months later I have a fic

--

my kingdom for a kiss upon your shoulder

Chapters: 1/3 Fandom: The Sandman (TV 2022) Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Dream of the Endless | Morpheus/Hob Gadling, Dream of the Endless/Hob Gadling Characters: Dream of the Endless | Morpheus, Hob Gadling Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Human, 1989 Hob Gadling and Dream of the Endless | Morpheus Meeting, Musician Dream of the Endless, Stockbroker Hob Gadling, Love at First Sight, Getting Together, New York City, Alternate Universe - 1980s, Queer Themes, Disillusionment, Explicit Sexual Content, Blow Jobs, Anal Sex, Recreational Drug Use, Depression, tfw you meet someone who makes you want to change up your whole life Summary:

Despite Hob's success on Wall Street, life is starting to feel meaningless. Limitless sex, drugs, and money should be endlessly entertaining but instead he's bored, he feels empty, like something's missing.

Something, maybe, like the beautiful, tragic musician he meets at a party, who opens more than one new door in Hob's life--and reawakens the buried longing in his heart.

--

Hob lies on the couch of the crowded apartment he’s found himself in for the evening, head tipped back over the arm. Pounding music thumps distantly around him. Dim lights. Warm bodies moving in blurs. He ignores it all. Picks up his vodka soda from the coffee table and takes a swig. Half of it runs over the side of his mouth instead of into it.

He’s… bored. What’s wrong with him that he’s bored surrounded by as much drugs, sex, and general debauchery as he could possibly want?

But he is. All that climbing for so long and now… he doesn’t know where he is. Why he’s doing any of it. The climb, the growth, was fun for a while. Chasing hunger, chasing more, that was fun. But now he has all of it. Supposedly.

He sighs. Pours the rest of his drink inelegantly into his mouth. If he wants another one he’s going to have to get up. He doesn’t really feel like getting up. He feels like merging himself with the couch instead.

The party spins on around him, as it always does. Not everyone’s feeling as burnt out on sex, drugs, and debauchery as Hob is.

He could go track down some coke, he thinks hazily. Someone here’ll have some. Maybe it would kick his energy back up.

He just feels kind of tired at the thought.

It says something bad about the point he’s reached in life that even cocaine isn’t doing it for him anymore.

“This is very dull,” says a low voice, and a man slumps down beside him, sitting on the floor and leaning back against the couch. He tilts his head back, looking up at Hob. “Do you think so?”

“Yeah,” Hob says, and then does a double take as he catches a proper look at the man.

Christ but he’s gorgeous. Nothing like the men Hob would normally see at a thing like this—nothing like Hob himself—with their fashionable suits, slick hair, slicker smiles. This man is lithe and sprawling, like a wild predator, stark black and white lines, spiky hair, dark makeup, studs flowing down his ears like raindrops. Clever eyes. Long fingers clutching a cocktail that he doesn’t seem particularly interested in.

Hob is instantly fucked.

“I was promised good drugs and better sex and I’m bored on both counts,” the man continues. He takes a sip of his drink, and grimaces.

“That why you’ve come over here?” Hob asks. “Because I looked equally bored?”

“Exactly.” He offers the drink to Hob. “You should try this.”

Hob takes it. It’s… very blue. “What the hell is this?”

“There was a girl working the bar… very drunk. She said she would make me her ‘special potion.’”

That sounds… questionable. Hob takes a sip, and chokes. “Christ.”

“I witnessed her pour in vodka, Prosecco, and tequila. Blue Curaçao—for color, of course. And maraschino cherries.” He plucks one out of the glass by the stem—there are about seven of them total—and eats it.

“What the fuck.” The stuff’s revolting. Hob takes another sip. “That’s alcohol poisoning in a glass.”

“It’s been one of the better parts of the night,” the man says.

Hob returns the glass, and the man tosses more of the drink back, his throat working. Hob’s just drunk enough to not attempt to stop staring like a creep. He wants to ask him if he wants to get out of here, or even just to steal away into one of the many spare bedrooms—it wouldn’t be out of place at a party like this, hell, Hob could drag him into his lap on the fucking couch, everyone’s far too drunk to care—but propositioning this creature for a mere hookup feels like wearing an Italian suit to mud wrestle. What a waste of a perfectly-made thing.

How did something like this wind up at this party?

“Who’d you come in with?” he asks, as the man plucks another cherry from the glass and delicately bites it off the stem.

“Someone who gave me a rather mediocre blowjob after a show,” he says. “I suppose I thought I would find better here, but I was mistaken.”

“Fifty-fifty shot on that, I’d say,” Hob says. Based on personal experience. Sometimes mediocre is good enough. Sometimes sex, regardless of quality, is good enough. For a while it has been. He’s not so sure anymore.

“I dislike betting,” says the man. Then stretches up a limp hand to shake Hob’s. “If we are to commiserate, perhaps names are in order. I am Morpheus.”

Morpheus. What kind of name. Though he had said at a show. A performer of some kind? “Hob,” says Hob, shaking his hand despite the awkward angle.

“Greetings,” says Morpheus solemnly. “You are the first man I’ve met tonight who has not tried to impress me with inanities. I am indebted to you.”

Hob tips his head back against the arm of the couch again with a sigh. “Too tired for bullshit. What’ve people been saying to you, then?”

“I have been taught much,” Morpheus says seriously. “Thrice I have been ‘educated’ on the great promise of ‘mortgage-backed securities.’ The reactions to my disinterest ranged from offense to outright concern for my sanity.”

“I think they were just trying to get in your pants,” Hob tells him.

Morpheus frowns. “The finance lecture was not helping their case. In fact, with each passing minute, I became more aggressively repelled.”

Hob laughs. “You’re on Wall Street, baby,” he says. It comes out kind of slurred. “Only thing more important than the size of a man’s dick is the size of his portfolio.”

Morpheus hums in consideration. “Neither of those has a direct correlation to talent.”

“Try telling them that,” Hob says.

Morpheus sits up straighter against the couch, leaning his head on his arm to study Hob. “I suppose I should ask about yours.”

“You’re too pretty for me to be tacky like that,” Hob says honestly. Maybe he’s a bit more drunk than he thought.

“Am I?” Morpheus seems pleased.

“So pretty.”

“Hmm.” Morpheus rests his cheek on the couch cushion. The tips of his hair brush Hob’s hip. His eyes are so liquid in this light. Hob wonders if he’s hallucinating his existence.

He reaches out, mesmerized, to touch Morpheus’s hair. Morpheus doesn’t stop him. He lets Hob pet him, eyes falling shut. His hair is tacky on the ends with hair spray, but soft underneath.

“I’ll tell you a secret,” Hob says, and Morpheus hums. “All those self-important stockbrokers trying to impress you with their convoluted financial instruments… they just want to hide that it’s all really a scam.”

“Is it now?” says Morpheus. “I was under the assumption it was legal.”

“Something can be a scam and technically legal. Oh, it’s all very clever. But it’s just building money on top of money with nothing real to support it. Kick out the base of the tower and it’ll all go into free fall.” He makes a whistling, falling sound, and Morpheus smirks.

“And I suppose you are better than all this.”

Hob chuckles. “Oh, no. I’m a money-grubbing little vermin, too. Just letting you in on the game. How it’s not so serious.”

“Hmm. I am a musician,” says Morpheus. As Hob figured, then. “I’m afraid it’s as serious as death.”

“Hence the all-black ensemble and the makeup,” Hob says.

“Indeed.”

Hob wants to hear Morpheus play. Or sing, or whatever it is he does. He bets he’d be exquisite. Divine. Hob can imagine those lips pressed to a microphone. Or those long fingers on guitar strings.

“Do you want something more interesting than alcohol?” says Morpheus.

“Why, you still bored?”

“Less and less so.” He pulls from his pocket a small bag of pills and hands it to Hob.

“You brought your own drugs to a party where you were promised drugs?”

“Promises cannot be counted on,” says Morpheus seriously.

“What is it?” Hob asks, then decides he doesn’t care, and takes a pill, chasing it with the watery last drops of his drink, which is a terrible idea, but then, he’s full of them.

“Ketamine,” says Morpheus. Oh, great, Hob thinks. Morpheus takes it back from him and takes a pill himself. “It occasionally makes me feel less like I am going to hurl myself from the balcony.”

He doesn’t seem to be joking. “Good for something, then,” Hob says. “Why do you want to jump off the balcony?” He still has his hand in Morpheus’s hair. He honestly can’t believe he hasn’t propositioned him yet. That’s not like him. These parties are usually only good for quick, casual sex. He even thinks Morpheus would probably agree, and yet.

“The state of things,” says Morpheus. He has such a deep, solemn voice. Hob wants to touch his mouth, or throat maybe. Okay, this is already not going so well. “And the state of my heart.”

Hob pets his hair again. Morpheus leans into the touch. “Writing songs about yearning and angst and stuff isn’t fixing it?” He can well enough guess what Morpheus’s music is probably like.

“No,” says Morpheus. He seems to really think about it. “I think it is making things worse. Perhaps I will try manipulating the financial markets instead. Is that giving you existential fulfillment?”

“There’s only so much money you can make before it starts feeling stupid,” Hob says. Maybe he should just throw all his cash out the window and go live in the woods or something. Carve figurines out of fallen trees. Probably do more good for the world, not that that’s ever been a focus of his. “Maybe it was always stupid.”

“No solution has been found for us yet, then,” says Morpheus. “Would you care to go outside? I find that if you are high enough, the city lights look like stars.”

“You’re not going to jump off the balcony, are you?” Hob asks, suspicious.

“This is not the right locale for my dramatic end.”

Somehow, Hob actually believes him. Morpheus wouldn’t truly kill himself unless it could have the right effect.

Hob levers himself up from the couch. Oh Jesus, now the room is spinning. The pounding music is starting to feel louder, starting to thud through him. Feels good, though. Everything being bright and hazy.

He helps Morpheus to his feet. Leads him, hand in hand, out to the balcony. They lean against the stone wall, looking down at the street, dizzyingly far below, cars poking along like lines of luminescent ants, distant horns crying. Then up, out at the collision of skyscrapers.

Morpheus was right. The lights are spinning and twinkling, just like stars. It reminds Hob of the first time he’d come to New York, when he was looking for adventure, and to get a little rich—or a lot rich—and everything had seemed like it was glowing and buzzing and flying.

The air is clearer up here than down on street level, and Morpheus tips his head up, breathing it in. His throat is so long, his shoulders and collarbone so angular. He looks like he’s been starving. But the stud in his ear at least looks from afar like a real ruby. Intentional, then, to be skin and bones.

“I think I am tired,” he admits, still looking up at the sky. “Do you know that… all I had ever wanted was for someone to like my music. And now I have that and it has not fixed anything.”

Hob takes his arm and pulls him close. He’s feeling very touchy-feely now, which could be the drugs but could also just be Morpheus. He’s so pretty and he looks so sad, and his sadness is beautiful and all the more terrible for that.

“I could kiss it better,” he offers. It’s still not a real proposition. Hob’d just kiss his hand if that’s what he wanted. Or the sharp bone of his sternum under those hanging necklaces. Or kneel at his feet and kiss his thigh—

Christ. Hob’ll be lucky if he survives the night, at this rate.

Morpheus looks at him, eyebrow raised. But Hob must look serious about it, because he says, “Okay.”

So Hob leans in and kisses his cheek. And Morpheus smiles, a bright, truly happy smile, just for a moment.

“Do you wish to dance?” he says. “I do not usually, but I feel I may fall over if I move from this wall without something to hold onto.”

Yeah, the floor is kind of moving. And Hob will certainly not turn down having Morpheus in his arms. “You wanna dance to this shit?”

They’re playing some godawful thumping grating song over the speakers now, and Hob doesn’t think either of them is up to the kind of bouncing thrashing dance that would call for.

“I will sing something different in your ear,” Morpheus says.

So Hob draws him in, wraps his arms around his waist. Morpheus plasters himself to Hob’s body, mouth to the shell of Hob’s ear. He starts humming a low, melancholic song. Hob shivers at the brush of his voice.

They sway together with very little coordination. Eventually Morpheus starts singing, though Hob’s brain isn’t capable at the moment of taking in many of the lyrics. It’s something about longing, and losing things in a terrible fire. Hob presumes it’s one of his songs. Morpheus’s voice is gorgeous, low and hypnotic, and Hob closes his eyes as it rumbles straight through him.

“You’re beautiful,” he murmurs eventually, filled with a sudden tragic pain about it. “Please don’t throw yourself off the balcony.”

Morpheus chuckles. “Another time, perhaps.”

“Never,” Hob says vehemently, and clutches his warm body close. He might cry about it. Fucking drugs. “We should go get food. You’re so fucking bony I think might you die of an overdose if we don’t sop it up. You had that wretched drink, too. Christ.”

“You are worried for me?” says Morpheus, sounding touched.

“Incredibly. Come on.” Hob finally pulls away from him, with chagrin, and takes his hand. “This party’s shit. I’ll take you to get pizza.”

“Pizza,” Morpheus repeats, with a tiny smile. It’s gorgeous on his face. “Very well.”

--

One dollar pizza is one of New York’s greatest inventions, in Hob’s opinion. They find some hole-in-the-wall place barely a block from the apartment building, and stand outside the door, eating incredibly greasy pizza off of paper plates, and it’s fucking heaven. It might be the best pizza Hob’s ever had in his life—granted he’s still very high.

Morpheus is scarfing his down like all pizza on earth is about to be chucked into space. Poor bony thing. Hob just wants to feed him up until he stops looking like a skeletal waif that’s about to drop dead at a cold breeze.

And wants to fuck him, too. Yeah, that’s still there, even with Morpheus licking grease off his fingertips. It’s actually getting worse because of that.

“Told you,” Hob says. “Needed some bread to soak up the fifteen shots in that drink.”

“I think I may throw up,” Morpheus says, with the careful articulation of someone who very well might. “But I am enjoying it nonetheless.”

“Let me know and I’ll find you a bin,” Hob says. He’s had worse nights than puking on the street corner.

“Now I owe you sexual favors in return for this generous meal,” says Morpheus, folding the empty paper plate with surprising precision, considering his enduring level of intoxication, and sliding it into a nearby trash bin.

It says something about Hob’s own level of intoxication that he barely responds to this statement. “Oh, yeah, the whole four dollars of it. What does that get me?”

Morpheus scrunches his nose in thought. “Two kisses,” he decides.

“We’ll save it for after you’ve decided if you’re going to throw up.”

Morpheus giggles. He’s so cute.

Hob tosses his own plate, and takes Morpheus by the arm. “Come on. You can come back with me. I don’t live that far.”

“Ah, now the proposition,” says Morpheus, but doesn’t sound unhappy about it.

“The ‘make sure my new friend doesn’t get hit by a cab effort’, more like, but sure.” He feels kind of responsible for Morpheus now. If Morpheus actually threw himself off a balcony Hob would never forgive himself.

“Friend,” repeats Morpheus, sounding pleased.

“See, isn’t this better?” Hob says.

“Better?”

“You got to eat pizza and didn’t even puke yet, isn’t that better than killing yourself?”

Morpheus huffs. “Quite a dichotomy. If you recall you too stated that you felt your efforts becoming meaningless.”

“Yeah, but I’m not gonna jump out a window about it.”

“Fortitude,” Morpheus says, and it sounds mocking but Hob doesn’t really mind. Maybe it is fortitude, he doesn’t know. Maybe to Morpheus fortitude is gullibility, continuing to play the game when it’s long lost its spark and its reward. Hob likes the game, though.

“What will you do about it, then?” Morpheus asks.

“Dunno.” It’s the first time Hob’s really thought about it. Up until now, it’s been about chasing. Always wanting more. But now— now he’s basically at the top. Where he wanted to be. And... there’s really nothing there at all. “Leave New York, maybe.”

The words surprise him, even as he says them. Midtown is so bright, even at four a.m. It’s something Hob once loved about the area. About the city. But now he’s staring into Morpheus’s darkness. Into the ink stain of his hair against the glowing storefront lights, the sway of his body, graceful even while swimming in dissociation. And everything feels different.

“To go where?” says Morpheus.

“Back to London, maybe.” He has enough money to go anywhere. And yet, it’s hard to feel a particular point to anywhere. Where’d his sense of adventure go? His ambition? Somewhere it all slipped, in the glut of the present.

“I grew up in London,” Morpheus says. “It is too personal there, now.”

So he’s chasing something too. Or running away.

“Tokyo, then,” Hob says, as if Morpheus coming with him is a key part of the decision. “Is’at the furthest city from New York? Gotta be close.”

“It’s Perth,” says Morpheus.

“You’ve looked it up?”

Morpheus nods solemnly. “And from London: Wellington.”

“It’s settled, then,” says Hob.

“I am coming with you?” says Morpheus.

“Course.” Hob’s not going across the world by himself. Not anymore. He bumps his shoulder with Morpheus’s, squeezes his arm where they’re leaning together. “You’re coming with me.”

“We should go further, then,” says Morpheus.

“Antarctica?”

“Mars.”

Hob finds himself giggling, mirth rising in him like champagne bubbles. Morpheus giggles, too. It’s truly a ridiculous sound in his deep voice.

“They don’t have cool jackets on Mars,” Hob says, poking at Morpheus’s studded blazer.

“Ah.” Morpheus frowns. “Maybe not, then.”

That only makes Hob laugh louder, leaning on Morpheus’s arm, and Morpheus sighs, irritated to be made fun of, but doesn’t push him away.

“Come on, I’m here,” Hob says, steering Morpheus into his apartment building as it comes up. They make their way across the lobby and to the elevator bank, only a little unsteady, and then slump against the wall once the elevator doors close.

“I think I am very sleepy,” Morpheus says, tipping his head back against the mirrored wall as they go up, up, up the insanely tall skyscraper Hob’s for some reason chosen to live in.

“You think you are?”

Morpheus squints at the infinite tunnel being created by the opposing mirrors on the walls. It’s dizzying, more so now, when they aren’t exactly sober. He shudders and closes his eyes. “I would have to be connected to my physical form to know for sure.”

Yeah, Hob’s feeling that too. The walls are kind of tipping in at him, which is particularly uncomfortable when they’re mirrored. “I’ll put you to bed, sweetie.” He still really, really wants to bed him, more specifically, but he might also be about to fall over. He’ll rue the missed opportunity in the morning, but it can’t be helped.

“Sweetie,” Morpheus echoes, with vague distaste, and tips his head against Hob’s shoulder.

The doors slide open, and they stumble out into the hall. Hob somehow manages to get his keys in the door and get them inside without dropping Morpheus, who’s now using him to support almost his entire weight, and then gets them into the bedroom.

What follows is a dreamlike whirlwind of undressing, where the floor keeps tipping under him, where he tries to hold Morpheus up as he slips out of his boots and his bloody complicated jacket, his skintight jeans and even tighter shirt, helps take each ring off his slim fingers to leave carefully on the nightstand, and the pendants too, and gives him a t-shirt to sleep in, and Morpheus says, “Wait— I must—” and flees to Hob’s adjoining bathroom to strip off his makeup with some makeup wipes scavenged from Hob’s cabinet, undoubtedly left behind by a prior hookup. The silly thing talks about killing himself but still puts effort into skincare. Hob just shakes his head, then regrets it as it makes the room spin.

He strips down to boxers and undershirt and climbs into bed, because he is actually about to fall over, and soon enough Morpheus stumbles back out and collapses into the sheets beside him. For a moment they just gaze at each other in the dark. Hob means to do something, to kiss him, maybe, claim one of the ones that was promised. But exhaustion claims him first. 

[drdemonprince]

Do you have any favourite scary movies?

I love the ambiguity and grief of The Orphanage, and the main character's emotional journey is absolutely gutting.

The Strangers has some of the most subtle, dread-inducing scares of any horror film of its era; if you liked the hidden ghosts in Mike Flanagan's Haunting of Hill House, it owes some inspiration to this film, I think. It truly gave me nightmares.

The newer Suspiria has really stayed with me, and I loved Flawed Peacock's analysis of the film on Youtube as well. I watched both this and the original back-to-back a few months ago, and they're both great in different ways, but nothing tops the haunting, sickening beauty of the end of this one.

28 Days Later is the only zombie movie for me, and yes part of that is because Cillian Murphy was so fuckable in it. I'll never forget the quiet, contemplative air of this movie, which is rivaled only by The Last of Us games. The zombie genre is bloated with derivative crap, but this movie rang in a whole new generation, and did it so well you don't need most of the rest.

The original Saw is a hell of a stage-play-slash-bottle-episode, and it's far more sophisticated in its writing than any of the rest in the series. It really holds up in my opinion.

The Cell isn't really that scary, to me, but it's fucking cunty as hell with incredible costumes and set pieces, and I enjoyed every minute of it. Bonus points for having a minor corruption/hypnosis aspect really tickled my imagination. I just wish that element had lasted for longer.

Speaking of movies that are actually plays -- there's no better Stephen King adaptation than Misery. Kathy Bates absolutely crushes in a nauseating, confining performance here, and the hobbling scene is one you just never forget. To me it's a perfectly paced film, and it holds up shockingly well in the era of stans and superfandoms.

Ghost Ship is my favorite bad stupid horror movie. The opening scene is enough creative nonsense carnage to justify its existence, but stick around through the end for a very weird trip-hop montage.

Dead Silence is another goofy one that gets really inventive with its gore. I love horror movies that do just downright disrespectful, creepy shit with corpses, and that's what this one is all about.

The Boy is a fucking laugh riot to me. The entire premise is so transparent from the very beginning and the thrills are so awkward and tame that it's a great Halloween party movie. If you're anything like me, you and your friends will walk around the house talking about the Boy for days afterward. Brahms is an age regressor king

Some people find Aronofsky's movies to be too over-the-top to connect with, but I think he nailed the internal horror of perfectionism, codependency, sexual repression, and eating disorders with Black Swan. Barbara Hershey's character is so perfectly unsettling that it sets all my people-pleasing, abandonment-fearing issues alight every time. Everything about this movie is confining and distorting, which is exactly how it feels inside when you narrow your entire life to a singular pursuit and are governed by impossible rules.

The Others has exactly what I need for a horror movie to have good replay value: just like The Orphanage, it's final reveal is more depressing and unsettling than it is pure scary, which makes it cut deeper, and it recontexualizes the whole rest of the film. The interiors and aesthetics are great.

Possession is easily the most disturbing movie on this list. This one cuts deep in a confusing, unmooring way -- it makes you feel sick in your soul, hopeless, and put off from relationships. Filming it reportedly ruined Sam Neil & Isabelle Adjani's lives for a good while, and you can see why. This film is the psychological reality of divorce in its unabashed form. To really leave behind a life you once committed yourself to, you have to become almost unrecognizable to yourself, and do great violence to both your former self, and the ones you love. This film gets that, and it's painful. It makes you feel disgusting for wanting things or for staying in a place where you're unhappy.

Happy watching!

[strawwiibernyy]

Drunk Actions, Sober Thoughts - Yang J.

__________________

warnings! alcohol, getting drunk, insecurities, crying.

words: 800+

╰┈➤ When Jungwon sees your drunk self, he takes you to his room to comfort you. However, you suddenly break down crying and asking him strange questions. Between one of them, asking him to kiss you.

__________________

"Y/N, calm down, the others will hear you." Jungwon said, looking back at his bedroom's closed door and then at your face. He hated seeing you like this. Red, puffy eyes as tears ran down like a river.

"Won, why? Why?" You choked on your tears while trying to speak. It was the first time Jungwon saw you this drunk, mostly because you didn't drink. You were an innocent girl. Every time you would go out with him and his members, they would drink beer while you sipped your orange juice.

So why did you drink so much? And what are those words coming out of your mouth? The rest of his members were downstairs in the living room. None knew that you were locked, drunk and crying in Jungwon's room.

"Y/N, I don't understand." He spoke again, sitting down on the floor next to you. He tried to grab your face so you could look him into his eyes, but you shook away from him.

"W-won, I want to ask you a question. But please, answer with honestly." You suddenly said, still your eyes pinned down on your lap. Jungwon moved closer to you, placing his right hand gently over your shoulders.

"What? What do you want to ask me?" You sniffed on your hand, looking up at him. Your lip trembled, making the next words that came out of your mouth barely above a whisper. However, Jungwon heard it. And very clearly.

"Am I pretty?" Jungwon's eyes got wide, taking away his hand from you. A shade of red spread to your cheeks, your eyes looking down again. For a brief moment, a depressing expression crossed your face when Jungwon's hand left your body. It made his heart shatter.

"Y/N, what are you saying? You are beautiful."

"Yes, but there are so much more beautiful women out there. The idols that you work with. They have flawless skin, a skinny body, and perfect facial harmony. I don't have any of them." You broke down again in tears, hiding your face behind your palms.

Jungwon's eyebrows came together at your words. How could you even think for a second that you weren't pretty? For him, you were the most gorgeous woman in the world. And you didn't need surgery, nor diet to look pretty in his eyes.

You were already perfect to him.

"Y/N, you are talking nonsense-"

"I am not and you know it. You would prefer me over some kind of model or the idols you work with?" You moved closer to him, feeling the alcohol hitting you.

"It's not about the outside, but the inside-"

"Then if they weren't bad people, and they were fun and kind like me, would you still prefer me?" Your temper was raising by the minutes passing. You got on your knees, looking down at a confused Jungwon with eager eyes.

You hoped his answer will be you. There was this small hope behind your eyes.

But what are you asking your best friend? The alcohol has seriously destroyed you.

"None can be like you." Jungwon whispered, making your eyes shoot wide. Still, this answer wasn't enough satisfying for you.

"Well, similar to me!" You yelled, forgetting his members were just downstairs.

"I can't understand you, Y/N. I wish you could see yourself from my perspective."

"If you find me so attractive then," You began, sitting back down on the floor. By now, your tears had dried up against your cheeks. The only thought in your mind was Jungwon's lips on yours. How they would feel, how they would move...

"If you find me attractive, then kiss me." You finally said, making Jungwon jump back in shock. He couldn't believe what was happening right now. You must be really drunk to suggest something like that.

However, drunk actions aren't just sober thoughts?

"Y/N, I can't do that-"

"See, you don't want to kiss me!" Jungwon stood up, and you followed behind him. Tears started leaving your eyes again, and Jungwon's heart was slowly breaking into pieces.

"You don't like me." You continued, unable to stop your mouth. "I am ugly, and you know it. If I wasn't, you would kiss me. Yet you went to leave. You know what? I am leaving first! This is your room anyway, ah!"

As you were about to walk past Jungwon, he grabbed you by your shoulders. He brought you close to his body, feeling his warmthless taking over you. Some seconds passed where you both looked each other deep into the eyes. Seconds that felt like years to you.

Before he did the move. He kissed you. He kissed you so sweetly, his lips slowly moving against yours. You were taken aback. At first, you were frozen under his touch. But when you felt his hand pushing your head closer to his lips, you reacted as well.

The kiss was quick, yet memorable. Jungwon could smell the alcohol on your breath, but his mind was occupied by your soft lips to give it too much notice. He took a deep breath before breaking the silence.

"If I didn't like you, would I do this?"

__________________

A/N: Sorry for not updating for a week, but now finals are over! YAYYYYYYY!

© all rights reserved to me — i do not allow anyone to copy, translate, or republish my works. all my stories are purerly fictional.

[nattroan]

𝓣 𝒉𝒆 𝒃𝒍𝒐𝒏𝒅𝒆!!✦

𝓓𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐍𝐚𝐭 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬!!🕸

When you first started dating her, she was a little cold trying to make sure if she could really trust you, until one day she just came to your house after an argument with her father and you listened so carefully and hugged her and comforted her. so affectionately that you made her feel so safe with you, after that day she was much more affectionate alone with you

She's really so obsessed with giving you cute nicknames in Italian

She thinks you are the most beautiful person in the universe

Once during a sexual moment that you were having with her, she grabbed your neck out of lust and the heat of the environment. The problem was that she grabbed your neck more than she should and left the mark of her hand on your neck (and you didn't you wanted to tell her that she was taking your breath away because you didn't want to ruin the moment) and when you went to sleep after that she saw the mark on your neck and the mark on your neck reminded her of when her father was trying to kill her mother with her hands and began to cry on your shoulder while asking for forgiveness, you woke up and automatically asked her why she was crying while you hugged her and well, she told you what was happening to her while desperately asking for your forgiveness (my little baby thought that night that he had become his father😭😭)

When she's jealous, she puts her hand in one of the back pockets of your pants and gives you a kiss in front of the guy who's flirting with you just to make it clear to him that you already have a partner and it's her (if that doesn't work, she might start telling him to the guy who leaves you alone but with insults like that

“Hey idiot, don't you see that she already has a partner, leave her alone if you don't want her to break your fucking nose”

When she loses a match she feels super angry and yells or speaks badly to everyone who tries to tell her to calm down or who tries to talk to her, except you, <3

I think you are the only person capable of calming her down (help, I can't stop laughing, this reminded me of a scene from the kissing booth😭😭 look at me, Noah look at me!)

She thinks you look so cute in any type of clothes

Sometimes when she is stressed and it is not yet time to leave class she throws you a piece of paper in the middle of class telling you to meet in the locker room, when the two of them get to the locker room Natalie simply starts kissing you until she forgets why she was stressed

Natalie just loves having you on her lap while she kisses you

When she is depressed or angry the only thing she likes to do is go to your house and lay her head on your chest while you caress her head or play with her hair while a Nirvana song plays in the background

She really loves to tell you things and teach you songs from her favorite bands or soloists

She also loves it when you tell her about your tastes too and she will always listen very carefully

I feel like she would have been terrified when you told her you wanted her to meet your parents

until she finally comes to your house for dinner and sees that your parents aren't as bad as she thought, your dad asked her some questions but that's it, your parents absolutely like Nat

I think he really loves every part of your body but his favorite part of your body would be your thighsis

her loves to put his hand on your thigh and also lay his head on your thighs

You once gave him a Nirvana CD and he couldn't stop kissing you that day

She loves it when you steal her clothes and wear them, she thinks you look so cute with her things

you love the way her rings look on her hand and you're obsessed with always grabbing her hand and seeing her rings

“you really like my rings love”her said making fun of you a little

Oh, shut up,” you said laughing blushing

“Admit it” her said, grabbing you by the waist while giving you small kisses all over your face

Sometimes she gets very insecure and you have to remind her that you only love her and that you are not going to abandon her

She has a mixtape full of songs that remind her of you and she listens to it when you're not with her

when they kiss she likes to whisper I love you between kisses

You were the first to say I love you of the two, although she says it to you more often

Her loves to flirt with you just to see your blushing face

she dedicates many songs to you

For Natalie, you are the most beautiful woman in the world and it hurts her so much that you don't think the same

Every imperfection you see in yourself is something she loves

“baby you know you're too beautiful right?”

One day you told her about all your insecurities and she kissed all the imperfections you saw in yourself

n/a: hii, sorry if there are any spelling mistakes, English is not my native language, I'm sorry,and if you are reading this, I just want to tell you that you are surely a wonderful and truly beautiful person, even if you don't see it for yourself and if you ever feel too bad with your physique or you are having a bad time in your life. I'm always attentive to my messages so write to me and I will try to help you <3

[genderfluid-insomniac]

Hi! Hope you're having a nice, wonderful even, day or noon or evening or night; love your work and how quick you are with it but please don't forget to take care of yourself!

Can I ask for Furina and Wanderer (my two kinnies) with a s/o who usually acts cheerful with them and is the sunshine of the relationship except they have secretly been developing insecurities over time, either because of Wanderer making some comments that didn't really have much meaning to them like her eating a bit more than usual or her hair growing long or from them not being able to cheer up Furina after the whole Fontaine thing blew over and finally; they break down all together, not eating anything, not saying anything most of the time for fear of annoying or boring them and constantly telling them that they can break up with them any time they want as they don't want to force them into this relationship

I am and I hope you're having a wonderful day or noon or evening or night too! Thank you! You’re so sweet!

Furina and Wanderer with sunshine!s/o who usually acts cheerful with them except they have insecurities

Furina

In the days following the Fontaine prophecy coming true Furina could see you were particularly down and she didn’t know why. She tried her best to cheer you up but it was hard when she herself was still recovering from the prophecy coming true and being able to finally relax. To stop pretending to be someone she wasn’t.

Finding her identity and recovering from the disaster while trying to help out her normally peppy now solemn lover was difficult. Furina had tried so many things before it became really bad and turned into a very alarming situation. She brought the both of you to her favorite dessert place which put a smile on her face and faintly saw one grace yours before returning to your normal expressionless one.

Slowly she took a forkful of her cake and brought it up to your lips, smiling hopefully at you now that she would be happy if you were happy and enjoy the new freedom she had to live completely relaxed with you.

“Look I know I’ve been depressed for a while and you probably felt bad about being unable to cheer me up but you were the most important reason for me to try and live my life now. So I want nothing more than for us to have fun and enjoy living so wanna try a bite of my cake? It’s sweet and then we can make macaroni after with your favorite drink.”

Wanderer

Wanderer knows that he makes comments to people that seem insensitive and harsh but people closer to him (or people he didn’t push away) know they almost never had any real bite to them. One or more of his comments must have gotten to you because you haven’t been eating or drinking much and what you have been eating is what he’s been heavily encouraging. He was a bit unsettled at first but as days passed, days he thought would result in your return to your usual bright happy self, you didn’t return to your previous self if anything you got worse.

Your hair had grown not that you cared and you’ve been muttering how you don’t want him to be forced into a relationship, how you’d be okay if he broke up with you which sounded insane. Wanderer had found the person who genuinely cared for him and who he cared about as well and now you were suddenly alright with abandoning him again. No! He wasn’t at all going to leave you or let you leave him!

So one night he had enough of his half-assed plans and dragged you out to Sumeru City, gathering ripe fruit and tea leaves that catered to both of your tastes. He then helped you up the great tree to a sizable platform that stuck up and had a great view of the sky, something he knew was fake but it was just as beautiful as you.

“I don’t I probably said something dumb that might have offended you but I hope you know I didn’t mean it at all. You have stayed with me despite how harsh I come off as and like hell I want this relationship to end. Not when you’ve stayed with me and I care about you a lot. I’m sorry I said something that hurt you.”

[babyleostuff]

fight for my life | xu minghao

warnings | anxiety, depression and real life

author's note | this is very much self indulgent and i just want to say to every person that is struggling as well - i'm so proud of you and know that your life is always worth fighting for

Breath in. Breath out.

It never helped, but you did it anyway. There were seemingly hundreds of ways to calm your racing heartbeat, so why did nothing help then? 

There was nothing pretty about anxiety and depression - your greasy hair, eyebags, the unwashed t-shirt which you were wearing for the past week and dishes laying in your sink, waiting to be put in the dishwasher, proved the point that you were not okay. 

All you wanted was to slowly fade away, from the pain, from the disappointment - from everything that made you so miserable, because how were you supposed to be happy, when you didn’t even find comfort in that one place which always made sure you were feeling even a bit better. 

Minghao’s arms, even though they held you as they had done a million times before, felt strange, the usual warmth of his body feeling distant, his lips pressed against your forehead were merely an insignificant touch and the fabric of his hoodie icky against your own skin.

“I’m here,” a quiet voice that you knew so well - that used to sing you to sleep, laugh at your jokes and tease you with no end, whispered into your ear, pulling you out of your thoughts. 

“No matter what’s going in that pretty head of yours, I’m staying with you,” he whispered again, combing through your tangled hair. 

“Is he even real?” You thought to yourself. Because what have you done to deserve such an amazon human being, to be able to call him your boyfriend, your safe space and your best friend. Most people would leave the second they saw any symptoms of depression, but he didn’t. 

He stayed. 

“I’m sorry,” your own voice quivered, as you reached for his hand, trying to find a way to ground yourself, to get back to reality. 

The reality of your beautiful apartment, where you were laying on the sofa that you were fighting so much about before actually buying it (Minghao didn’t really like the colour, but he eventually gave in to your begging), the lit candles that stood on every surface possible, because it always calmed Minghao down, his paintings hung on the wall and pictures of him and the boys framed, never failing to make your heart feel a bit warmer. 

You knew how many good, no - great memories this house held, yet you couldn’t get yourself to focus on any of them. You knew how life worked, that it was like a sine wave, constantly going up and down. 

It just seemed that your down was bigger than usual. 

“You don’t even realise how strong you are, my love. How brave you are for fighting,” he held your body closer to his own. “You’re brave for fighting for your life,” Minghao whispered, placing a gentle kiss on your cheek. 

Maybe he was right, you weren’t sure. Because, what kind of a fight was that? You were laying in your bed all day, not being able to focus on anything more than your daunting thoughts, that seemed to destroy every single precious thing. 

“No matter how bad you think it is,” his calm voice broke the silence once again. “It is going to be alright,” he stroked your cheek with his thumb, his eyes holding nothing but love and admiration for you. Because to him, you were the most courageous person he knew and he was so proud of you. 

Mingaho could spend an eternity laying with you on that damn couch, holding you, stroking your hair, whispering into your ear - just for you to find your happiness again and see your beautiful smile on your face. Even the smallest one. 

“Trust me, eventually it will get better.” 

And that was what you were holding onto. 

taglist (if you want to be added, check my masterlist): @weird-bookworm @sea-moon-star

[moonyasnow]

Hi, there! :D

I saw that request are open so I have a VERY angst request.

Type: Headcanons (Romantic and a lot of angst)

Reader: Fem or neutral (I leave it to your liking)

Scenary: How about a prefect who loves sing and has a beautiful voice but due to a magical accident (indirectly being said boy's fault) them/she ends up losing her/they voice forever. The reader tries to appear normal but deep down she/them is depressed by the situation even if she/them will never hate said boy

with Deuce, Ace, Sebek and Jack (or other characters you want)

If my request does not convince you, you can discard it without problems, but if not, take your time and without pressure, thank you. I'm loving your TWST fics and as someone who has a lot of ideas for angst fuel (I'll probably make some angsty requests here) >:D (Spoiler I have one in mind with Ortho) (and maybe I'll make fan arts) see ya :D

Sudden Silence.

PROMPT : Their singer S/O loses their voice due in part to them

CONTENT : pre-established relationship, angst, hurt/comfort, Reader loses their voice, lots of guilt and shame, self-esteem issues too bc why not, hopeful endings at least!

CHARACTERS : Ace, Deuce, Jack, Sebek

- { Crash— B O O M ! } -

An explosion resounded from the cauldron next to where you and Grim worked— the one you had seen your boyfriend and his lab-partner standing over.

Someone called your name, told you to watch out. But it was too late. The greyish-canary-yellow smoke and liquid of whatever potion they had failed to make splattered on your skin and clogged your airways from your nose and open mouth...

Your voice was never the same after that.

Ace

Ace Trappola was good at lying. Exceptionally good at lying, even. So you'd witnessed firsthand several times, including the first time you met. And those used to dealing in falsehoods will always be the most adept at spotting them in others.

…Yeah you really weren't fooling him.

You had been singing your entire life. It wasn't something you'd ever really thought much about; it was just something you did. When you were young people had said that you had music in your blood— and you wholeheartedly agreed. Whenever a song you knew came on the radio you HAD to sing it, no matter what anyone else in the car thought. You ALWAYS volunteered for karaoke whenever it was an option. Were you a bit of a diva? Maybe just a little bit— but you couldn't help it! You just loved music and singing too much to ever keep it to yourself.

Ace often teased you about your need to be in the spotlight when you sang, loving how huffy you got and how you pouted, or he said that your choice of song was lame— but he never stopped you. He did actually like it, because you singing meant you were happy, after all. But Ace's gotta Ace, and the one and only Ace Trappola couldn't just let people think he was some mushy sap who loved the sound of his lover's voice, now could he?

But still, he'd often jokingly make fun of you, daring you to sing the most embarrassing song you could think of from your homeworld, or just starting a Twisted Wonderland song whose lyrics he knew would make you red in the face from embarrassment just to watch you sing to the very last note despite it. He loved that stubborn side of yours, partly because of how much fun it was to tease you with it. You were…kinda cute when you pouted. …Ok, really cute.

The accident left you with a sore throat for weeks. Your speaking voice returned to normal, but your singing voice…just didn't. You never sang anymore. Didn't even try. He felt a little…scared, to ask you about it.

He missed hearing you sing. Not because of your singing itself, but because it'd become to him the theme music of your happiness. Not having an easy way to know if you were happy or not bothered him more than he thought it would. But what bothered him most was that you didn't even get mad at him! Sure, he was used to covering up his own sadness with a bad joke when he didn't want anyone to know he was down, but seeing you try to do the same just…just no. It felt all kinds of wrong!

You lost your voice because he decided it'd be more fun to goof off and goad his lab-partner on than pay attention to the potion they were supposed to be making, even after Crewel said to be extra cautious making that particular potion. And you didn't even yell at him. Not even a little bit! Not even a pout, or refusing to speak to him in particular for a week or more. That's what he thought he kinda deserved for what happened. That's what he wished you'd do!

Anything was better than…than this!

But he knew you, and he knew calling more attention to it would probably just make you feel even worse. So, like the sleight-of-hand master he was(not really but let him dream won't you?) he drew your attention away from it. He practically dragged you away from moping alone in your room to force you to watch him at Basketball practice, and during the dreaded music lessons he even willingly embarrassed himself by playing the violin so badly it made you burst out laughing and making fun of him when he so much as tried to screech out a single note. Then he dished it out twice as bad when it was your turn to fail at it.

You punched his shoulder. Hard. And pouted at him like you always did. It felt…good, to have something normal.

But he still couldn't shake those feelings of guilt whenever he heard you start to tap along to the rhythm of a song you had playing in your head. It just reminded him every time if the way you used to hum the melodies. He felt like such an ass every time. You'd have to talk about it some day...but for now things would stay in this forced equilibrium.

Until you felt ready.

And until that day, whenever it would be, he'd keep distracting you at all hours of the day, taking your thoughts away from it. You could say it was his way of trying to make it up to you.

…Even though he knew he'd taken too much from you for the guilt to ever really leave him.

But this wasn't about him.

Deuce

Deuce Spade, the former delinquent, aspiring honor student and— despite his best efforts— someone who acted without thinking, knew what it was like to lose your way. It could be said his entire adolescence had been a long period of him continuously losing his way. So much that it, in a sense, became his way? But not a good way. It all caught up with him and smacked him in the face when he'd heard how sad it made his mom, how much it made her worry and even blame herself.

When he got into Night Raven College, he couldn't believe his luck. It was, to him, a second chance. A place he could go where no one knew of him or his past mistakes, where he could create a new identity for himself and become someone better. That was also where he met you. And also developed a big crush on you. You seemed his polar opposite: calm, thoughtful, polite and reserved. A lot of things he wished he was more of. Yet you didn't judge him at all for that delinquent side of him that seemed to rear its ugly head whenever he got too worked up. You even appreciated it when it compelled him to try to protect you and his friends. It made him feel like that was something he really could learn to leave in the past one day…or maybe even learn to repurpose for better things. He gushed about you to his mom over the phone so much that she figured out his feelings for you faster than he himself did. And when he finally did, she was also the one to encourage him to try asking you out.

…But you also ended up inadvertently reminding him of what was so troublesome about it, why he wanted to change it in the first place.

You had always been praised for your singing voice. To the point it was your biggest point of pride— something you took good care of and refined to the exception of almost everything else in your life. Back home your shelves were lined with awards from song competitions and walls with posters for all the different concerts you'd sung in, musicals you'd participated in. 'You have a bright future with music' a teacher had once told you. Those words had engraved themselves into your heart. Not having any idea what the future might hold and how you'd get a job felt less scary when you knew you had your voice to rely on. Being transported to a new world, forced to make a new life from scratch, was difficult. But at least your voice meant you had some kind of potential future career. You could ask Vil to introduce you to someone in the industry, or work for Azul at his lounge.

But you lost it. Because of him. Because he had gotten worked up over a comment Ace made and, as Deuce went to grab his collar, had accidentally knocked over something on the table next to their cauldron, causing it to break against the edge and spill way more than the recipe required into the mixture. The

It wasn't that your singing voice had become gravelly. No. It had disappeared completely. When you opened your mouth to sing, your vocal chords moved, but pure silence followed. Not even your breath was heard.

When your singing voice 'died', all your future plans, ambitions, confidence and sense of self died with it. You had never realized before just how much your voice was a part of your identity— how large of a part of your vision of 'you' that it made up. But now, having realized that the thing which, in your mind, made you 'you' was just...gone...

You didn't know how to handle it.

You became quiet. Barely even spoke. Retreated into yourself. It made him so, so, incredibly worried. He knew it was his fault. That you didn't shake your head when he said as much, a stabbing pain to his gut, only confirmed it for him. He blamed himself. How could he not? In his mind, if only he hadn't taken Ace's words— whom he knew was always just joking and teasing, trying to get a rise out of him— so seriously and entered 'delinquent mode' again and knocked that vial over, none of this would have happened. He didn't know what to do. He wanted to call his mom for advice, like always…but this time he just couldn't. It was too personal. So he waited. He didn't know what else to do but just wait. He wanted to speak to you, too…but he didn't know what to say. So he joined you in your silence, spending as much time next to you as he could, texting rather than talking, even when you were seated right next to each other.

But the worst part was when he'd come to Ramshackle and hear you, who didn't know he was there, clear your throat, obviously to try to sing. Only to be met with silence. Even the creaking of the old wood or the tweeting of nearby birds faded to nothing when you tried. All he could think in those moments was of how badly he'd screwed up.

…Weeks later, you finally spoke again.

"It's...not coming back, is it?" He could tell it was rhetorical. He felt tears mist his eyes and the same guilt stab his heart. He tried to speak. But before he could you turned to him, face for once no longer hidden behind your hair, your eyes already beginning to overflow with tears.

'Oh' he realized. You weren't upset at him. Or at least, not anymore. He didn't know what he could ever do to make up for what happened. But maybe looking at it that way— like something he did wrong— was just making it worse. The more important thing was him being there for you, not beating himself up over something that already happened, that he couldn't change.

Neither of you said anything else; he hugged you close, and you buried your face in his shoulder and you both just cried. His crying was quiet. Yours was wailing, loud enough all of Ramshackle must have heard. But you needed it. To let out your voice in anguish; to use it one last time.

His life trajectory had changed out of guilt. Yours due to something out of your hands. Yet the result remained the same: two people who lost their way, in one way or another, who now had to pick up the pieces and grow past it. When you came back out of your self-imposed, mute isolation, you felt like a different person, the world seemed a different color. It was...scary. Like the sky and horizon had collapsed and revealed a world outside of a box you'd lived in. A world vanished to reveal another. But when you trembled, Deuce was there to take your hand, even though his was trembling just as much. It made the task seem less insurmountable.

Because now you were growing up together.

Jack

Jack Howl knew devotion to an activity well; he had a reason for his training of his body, that which he devoted himself to. And it was no different for you.

You had always filtered your life through music. Music had always been there for you; a sound to use to plug up the thoughts you didn't want to deal with, thoughts that whispered to you that bad things were going to happen. When you couldn't find the words to describe your feelings, you had always been able to find a song that got those same feelings through, and got used to expressing your thoughts through song rather than speech. You had never been very good at speaking. Your vocal chords always seemed to seize up when you even thought of trying. Your life happened entire confined within your head. But singing, you became someone else. Someone with the confidence to speak into being the things within you which had previously been confined to that space.

You didn't merely partake in the act of singing; you were song. From the tips of your lashes to your very core of your bones. While you didn't often sing in front of others, more due to feeling too awkward to start singing out of nowhere for seemingly no reason, Ramshackle was never silent so long as you were there. A second that music was not flowing either through your ears or from your lips was a second not spent living.

He had only ever seen you at your quiet moments, never even having heard your voice before. So he was shocked to see you alone up on stage at a small talent show some of the students had set up. He'd attended because Epel had been forced by Vil to take part. He was surprised, then, when you came onto the stage and began to sing with an incredible passion he never would've imagined someone as shy as you would have.

It…made his heart beat a little louder, seeing you so confidence for once, so clearly in your element. It made him start to look at you in a way he hadn't before, his tail wagging more than usual whenever he saw you. He told you once that you had the talent to make singing your profession one day, and he genuinely believed that.

Then came the accident.

You weren't even together yet when the accident happened. But as one of your closest friends, he noticed the shift in you instantly. Whenever he came to visit Ramshackle, it was dead quiet. You hadn't even put on any music in the background; his hearing was good enough that his ears would've picked up it if you did.

When the Song and Dance Competition, SDC, came to Night Raven College, his chest never stopped hurting through the whole multiple-day event. He felt so restless...he wanted to run to where you were, to comfort you somehow, and he hated that he was too busy helping to build stages and move heavy equipment or shop stands all day to be able to. His ears were laid flat against his head all day, and all through the event. He couldn't even focus on any of the performances.

After it was over, he rushed to Epel to ask where you were, only to find out you'd left as soon as you cast your vote. When he came in through the door and entered the living room where you sat on the creaking couch, you smiled and waved at him the same way you always did.

He knew how much your singing meant to you. There was no way you'd get over it that quickly, right? He knew he couldn't if he somehow became unable to train, or take care of his cacti. And when he looked closer, he saw that your brows were slightly furrowed, eyes more pink than usual at the corners. It broke his heart to think of you crying all on your own. It hurt even more to know it was because of him. But he didn't know what to do to fix it. So he went with his gut, and came closer to hug you.

…And like an idiot, he blurted out how much he liked you. He wanted to kick himself. But you signed that you liked him too, thankfully.

Then Port Fest came around. He felt guilty for you needing to hear all the music in the air and not being able to participate since you couldn't play an instrument. But he didn't want to treat you like glass; he knew you were stronger than that. So he felt caught in a state of limbo, not knowing what to do.

But...something happened which neither of you had expected.

You were put on Saxophone along with Floyd, and while you seemed apprehensive at first, when you started playing, you eventually had a blast!

Later on you ended up playing a short solo of what you'd learned for him; a 'private concert', you'd signed to him. And for a moment, he recognized that fire light up within you again. He laughed.

Not even losing your voice would stop you from pursuing music.

Sebek

Sebek Ziegvolt knew what it was like to feel inadequate, for his efforts to be called 'too much'. He once heard it said that he 'puts in a lot of effort to accomplish barely anything at all'. Yet all it did was push him to push himself even more. For how could he just let such comments stand, debasing his reputation as a knight of Malleus Draconia? It could not stand! Hence why he continued to push himself harder and harder in all he did.

It was that same mantra that lead to the accident. He and Ace had been partnered for Alchemy that day, as Professor Crewel had wished to keep Ace Trappola away from his habitual other half, Deuce Spade. As such, he was paired with Sebek for this class of Freshman Alchemy. In retrospect, Sebek would curse this decision for years to come…

Ace, not wanting to do the work himself, had goaded Sebek into doing his share of the work as well in brewing the voice-changing potion designated as that class' assignment. The attack on his pride left him trying to overcompensate and complete the assignment in half the usual time, to prove himself far more skilled at potion-making than a mere, lazy human!

But then the potion exploded. And you were caught in the crossfire.

While he hadn't admitted it, your soft singing voice had always soothed him— almost like a lullaby. Anyone who payed enough attention would have noticed his voice was always a few decibels quieter after he heard you sing. And you sang often, repeating the lyrics to some Earth song on your way to class by his side, even humming quietly to yourself as you worked. It was the gentle, ambient noise that your presence by his side brought. A sound he'd found himself growing enamoured with.

Your voice enthralled him, capturing his attention fully. Yet it was not purely due to your voice. It was the look of serenity on your face. The way the world around you seemed to stop and hold its breath each time you sang. Your voice was breathtaking, yes, but the pure passion, the sheer joy and bliss your voice carried with each note, no matter the tone or subject material of the song, that truly enraptured him.

Despite his duties, and claiming he only did so on request of Lilia for him to 'get cultured', he never missed any of your shows at the Mostro Lounge. He said it almost seemed disrespectful for the Lounge's business to go up so much whenever you sang on its stage, not realizing the feelings of bitterness in his chest were not at you being disrespected, but jealousy at so many others recognizing your charm. Deep within him— past the already buried desire to want to be by your side, not as a friend, but a lover— he doubted that you would ever look upon him as he did you: with pure adoration.

Yet he was proved wrong. After a show, he had shown up with a small bouquet of flowers— hand-picked, he had made sure to emphasize— to congratulate you for a good performance. He recalls telling you that the performance was…lovely…s-so much so that— while he of course would never speak on his Lord's behalf!— he believed his Young Master might even enjoy it, were he to attend one of your concerts. His face had become redder by the second of him speaking, too caught up in his rambling speech to notice you coming close, until you had cupped his cheeks and silenced him with a kiss. He'd dropped the flowers on the floor.

So then…

When the accident, a failure of his own creation, had robbed you of that joy of yours, he felt so incredibly guilty, and ashamed! You, his beloved, had lost the one thing you loved so much, all due to his mistake. The sheer weight of that guilt, of having cost you your greatest passion in life, threatened to drag him under.

So instead of stewing in those feelings, he acted.

He tried to search through the library top to bottom, asked both Lilia and Crewel for advice on how he might possibly reverse the effects. He even got desperate enough to seed aid from his Young Master. He trembled as he did— what right did he, a mere knight…no, not even a proper knight yet, have to beg a boon from his Lord Malleus? But since it was for you, to restore that smile to your face once more, he felt compelled to.

He cried as he made his request for aid in his search of a cure, overwhelmed with his conflicting interests of wishing to help his beloved and of wishing not to burden his Lord. His cheeks reddened in shame, thick tears rolling over his cheeks, when Malleus agreed to try to help you.

You tried to tell him that him going so far out of his way to find a cure to your predicament wasn't necessary, but no matter how you explained that there are worse things, he refused to budge. It was a matter of pride now, too. He would prove to you that he had the ability to right this wrong; that he was a worthy partner to you, that he could restore to you the thing you lost. Not out of a desire for praise or gratitude this time, but because he knew he alone had to take responsibility for the accident.

The way you shone when you sang, the pure bliss the act seemed to spark in you…he couldn't live with himself if it meant he'd taken that away from you forever.

And you knew how he felt. You knew how important it was to him to be able to be of help to you in what he, not incorrectly, considered your time of need. Losing your voice was…indescribably painful. As though a flame in your soul had been snuffed out like a candle in the wind. Yet you had tried to act as though it didn't truly bother you as much as it did. You still had other avenues of music you could pursue, after all, such as learning to play an instrument…

Yet, though you doubted it was that he saw through that ruse of yours rather than that he felt compelled to right what he saw as a wrong he had committed, the dedication to restore your singing voice…it made you able to cling onto a shred of hope that you might see it returned one day. It reminded you once more of why you fell for him in the first place.

But above all else…he just longed to see the smile you always wore when singing, the smile that without fail made his heart skip a beat, grace your face once more.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Writing this got me genuinely emotional— my singing is actually one of the things I'm the most proud of in myself and I love singing so much— imagining this scenario happening to myself made me so sad ; ; But in a good way!

Some didn't turn out as angsty as the prompt described: I can do angst just fine, but if there's not a happy ending, or at least the potential of things becoming better in the future, I just start crying too much

Also didn't keep the 'tries to appear normal' part for all of them since it seems like I'm just incapable of writing the exact same Reader for every single character for a scenario haha ;^^ I think more 'what would be the most interesting way to spin this scenario and how does the Reader need to react to make it so' And I decided to go with a gender neutral Reader just to make it more inclusive to everyone

Sorry for Jack's part being a bit rushed in places— I'm kinda worn out from the school year haha My perfectionism keeps telling me it's not good enough for my standards because I know I could do better if I just had more energy, but that just how it be sometimes; better I learn to take the L than never finish this, at least!

But I really hope you like what I did with the prompt!

Also a head's up that, since June is gonna be really busy for me, I'm probably not gonna be able to write much at all until at least the start of July; hence why I've closed writing requests until then.

[sparrowrye]

Alastor x Fem! Reader {soulmates} Part 8

Synopsis: soulmate AU where you have the same mark on your body as your soulmate, and if your soulmate dies, you die too. Alastor needs to make sure that his soulmate is safe so he can continue his reign - whatever that takes. Though it looks like we have a couple secrets of our own.

Previous Part

Part 8: ignited flame

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

Weeks went by and winter came.

Husker had noticed my abrupt silence and depressing mood. He tried to make me talk about the fight with Alastor but I didn't want to talk about anything at all.

My meetings with Rosie were just as depressing. They yielded less and less, though she claims it's helping me use more and more of my magic. I noticed the things that took a lot of effort before now took minimal effort. Such as my appearance.

I sat outside on the porch in the rocking chair. I wrapped myself in a heavy blanket and hid my Demon side away. I could see my breath come in clouds. The field was covered in a beautiful, clean white sheet. The trees were bare but the inches of snow on their branches made them look like a winter wonderland.

Husker joined me on the porch. He didn't bring a blanket but I guessed he was using magic to keep himself warm. In fact, I knew he was because I could see a faint glow of red around him. I noticed this glow whenever he used magic.

"It looks nice," he broke the silence.

"Very."

"Have you seen snow much?"

"Not until I was free," I answered. I could remember how confused and amazed I was when I saw my first snow. I was running around trying to catch snowflakes in my palms. I loved watching children run around and make snowmen in the thick snow.

"Alastor hates snow with a burning passion." Husker chuckled when I stared at him wide eyed. "Most Demons do since, you know, we come from hell and it's pretty fucking hot down there."

"Makes sense." I nodded. "It doesn't bother me."

"Do you want to know how to stay warm on your own?"

"No thanks," I declined. "I like it this way."

Silence fell between us for a long while. I eventually grew tired of playing the same bad memories in my head over and over again.

"Where is he now?" I asked.

"In his study. Doing another broadcast."

I unwrapped myself from my blanket and sat on the steps. I put my hand in the snow and left my mark in the white powder. I looked over my shoulder at him. "Maybe...you will teach me?"

He sat beside me and told me how. I tried a few times before I got the hang of it. My body's temperature rose and stayed at the right spot. My hand no longer felt cold but I could still feel the snow.

I grabbed a handful of snow and shoved it in his face. He mewled like an angry cat and crawled away from me, fur sticking up all over his back. I laughed and apologized. Instead of accepting it, he jumped on my back and shoved my face into the snow.

I sent wind behind him and rolled him off. I let my Demon side out as I pounced on him. We wrestled in the cold snow for awhile, unbothered by the frigid temperature thanks to our magic.

I shoved him off with my legs, like he had done to me one time, and threw a snowball at him. He hissed and ran at me on all fours. I followed his lead and started running away on all four. It was surprisingly easier and faster.

He chased me around the house several times before he landed hard on my tail. The cat and mouse switched roles as I chased him in circles. Finally I jumped on his back and we rolled to a stop on our backs. Snow had started to fall and it gently melted on our sweat soaked faces.

My cheeks started to hurt from smiling. I looked over at Husker who was taking deep breaths with his eyes closed.

"Thank you," I said. His eyes popped open and he turned his head towards me.

"What for?"

"For being fun." I turned back to the gray sky. I put my hand up to catch one of the flakes. "I never...I never really knew how to have fun." I brought my claws back in so my hand looked like normal. "I always watched other people having fun and laughing. It always looked so easy. But I...I never really knew how to do that."

"It must've been awful in those rings." Husker's ears flatted sideways a bit. "I never...realized that they raised fighters from when they were just children."

"If you did, would you have stopped them?"

He was quiet for a long while. "Now, of course. But...back then? I don't know. I was so desperate for money that I was willing to do anything. Even...making a deal with another Demon."

"Alastor, right?"

A moment of silence. "Yeah." He pulled himself up to a sitting position. "I don't want you to be afraid to confide in me. I want you to feel like you can say anything. Even if all you do is complain about how shitty Alastor is being." I sat up as well, watching his face intently. "I know he said not to talk about leaving with me, but you can. I won't tell him."

"What was the deal, if I may ask," I prompted gently.

He casted a sideways glance at me, then looked down at his claws. He was quiet for awhile and I didn't push. He was probably dying to tell someone about his unfortunate fate.

"I...I used to be an overlord in Hell. I gambled with souls for awhile then started gambling up here. But...I lost a few hands. And a few more after that. Until I was on my last one. I didn't want to lose my power, my magic, so I gambled against him for more souls. And I lost my soul to him over a bad game."

There was a long moment of silence again. I searched my brain for something to say and came up with, "I'll bet he cheated."

It made Husker chuckle and made me sigh with relief. He stood up and examined his snow-soaked pants. He held out a hand and helped me to my feet. "You're probably right." He smiled. I returned it. "Well, let's go inside and get dry."

"Sounds good." As we walked up to the house, I noticed Alastor watching from the second story window.

****

The house had finally been fully renovated and back to its former glory. We had running water, working electricity, and restored floorboards and walls. Keeping it clean, though, was proving to be a problem. Bugs still found their way into the old home and dust was still an ever present threat to my sinuses. It didn't help that we couldn't open the windows to air out the stuffy house without losing all the heat from the fireplaces.

Speaking of which, something loud tumbled down the fireplace and landed firmly on the hot coals. I barely stepped into the room when Alastor appeared from the shadows and lifted the soot-covered creature. A big, singular red eye snapped open and made direct contact with my two. My hair stood up.

Alastor let go of it and the soot disappeared in a puff of black clouds. Standing up was a small child dressed in pink and white. "Darling," he looked at me, "meet Niffty. A devilish little thing, she is."

"Whoooah, what are you?" The little girl sped over and disappeared behind my back. She touched my tail then clambered onto my back to touch my wings and horns. She was like a bug as she jumped all over me.

"Niffty?" Husker came into the room. She immediately jumped off me and started her assault on him.

"Hey kitty kitty~" She poked her head out from under his hat. He lifted his hat and pulled her off. She landed on her face on the floor and I worried she might start crying. Instead, she yelled, "Yay, pain!" She suddenly started crawling around on all floors and appeared on chairs and shelves. "This place is awfully dirty."

I side-eyed Husker who took a sip of his alcohol with a growl. Alastor put a hand on my shoulder, making me jump. My hair on my neck and arms stood up even more. He said, "I noticed your trouble keeping the house clean. You did all the hard work restoring it so I employed our little darling, Niffty here, to help." I stepped to the side so his hand fell from my shoulder and so I could face him.

"How many people exactly do you have under your service?" I questioned.

"Oh I lost count." He scratched at something on his cane.

"Knife knife, I need a knife, these little roaches aren't going nowhere," Niffty mumbled. I looked at Husker again but he just growled and disappeared back into the kitchen for another drink.

"She's harmless, trust me," Alastor said.

"I don't," I mumbled. I went back to the fireplace and fixed up the hot logs. I didn't need a stoker as I used my magic to protect my hand and move the logs back to their original position.

"Say, darling." Alastor moved to stand behind me. I quickly stood up and faced him with crossed arms. "Why don't you join me in the library? There's some information I'd like to share with you that I think you'd find rather useful."

"What kind of information?"

"Why so skeptical, dear? I'm providing you with information. Surely you're curious." He didn't wait for an answer and crossed the threshold between the sitting room and the library. I noted that he had to duck to avoid hitting the doorframe.

I let out a strained sigh and followed him. The fire in this room was contained in a small cage in the fireplace. It left the room much colder than the others. Most of the warmth came from the open windows that allowed the sun to shine through when it came out from behind the winter clouds.

"Please, get comfortable," he said as he perched himself near the fireplace. I leaned against the large desk adjacent to him, careful not to let my wings knock anything over. He cocked his head a little but said nothing about it. "How much do you know of magic?"

"Obviously not as much as I thought." I wanted to be smart but my words kept coming out soft. I couldn't rid my mind of his terrifying form the night I fought him. My mind told me it was a nightmare but my body remembered it as real as it was when it happened. I didn't like standing this close to him.

"Before you came here, how much did you know?" The sun finally shone through the windows, illuminating the usually dark room. He slithered to the window and sat down in the sun, his hands elegantly settling on his knees. His smile was wide.

"Nothing, really. Only how to use it." I dropped my crossed arms to my lap.

"So you know nothing of the types of magic?"

"I know they exist but I don't know what they are."

He raised his palm as if expecting someone to hand him something. Something did when I saw a book being pulled off the shelf by itself. It floated past me and landed in his claws. He opened it with one hand and the pages flipped on their own. "There are several and they all have their own levels in them as well. Take a look."

He casted the book towards me, letting it plop in my hands and making me almost drop it. I looked down at the open page to see a series of circles and words. There were three groups: elementary magic, existence magic, and advanced magic. They all had little circles underneath them with different symbols.

In Elementary, it had all four elements. In existence, there was Holy, Hell, Cosmo, and Chrono magic. Advanced had a number of different ones form electricity to poison. "What's Cosmo and Chrono?" I asked.

"Cosmo is dealing with space, like the space between Heaven, Hell, and here," he answered, "Chrono is time." He casted the book back to the shelf it had come from. "Those with Slight magic are only able to use Elementary. Demons can use any and all of them, though some like to specialize in certain ones."

"What do you specialize in?"

He laughed, standing up and bouncing his cane off my his claws. "All of them dear. I'm a master of all the magic there is."

"Even Holy magic?"

Static caught his throat. "Only angels use Holy magic. I wouldn't bother twiddling with such a useless form of magic." He spun his cane and jutted it into the ground. "I believe you will be able to master of all them, too."

"Why would you want me to?" I dared.

"Mastering them will be up to you. I'm going to teach you how to control them properly. Last thing I need is for the house to fall apart because you don't know how to manage them." It was more of a demeaning comment than anything. "And we'll start now." The curtains jerked closed and the doors to both the kitchen and sitting room were slammed shut. I was abruptly thrown into pitch blackness save for Alastor's red eyes and yellow teeth. "Conjure light."

I backed into a chair and fell over it. I couldn't see anything except him. Then I couldn't. All the lights went out and I was left alone in the darkness. "I--I don't--I don't know how!"

"You lack imagination." I turned over to see his red eyes again. I jumped to my feet and backed into a table of some kind. What did this library look like? What was I running into? Why couldn't I remember? "You're limited by your own self." His eyes disappeared again.

I looked down at my hands, though I couldn't see them, and conjured fire in my palm. Something hard smacked my wrist and I clasped it to my chest, snuffing out the flame. I couldn't move my fingers.

"I said light. Not fire."

"Fire is a type of light," I hissed into the darkness.

"Conjure pure light. You want to see, don't you?"

I rubbed my sore wrist and opened my other hand. I tried to picture my own hand holding a ball of light. Yet nothing came of it. Why wasn't it working? Why did it never work for me on the first try?

"Your own mind is holding you back." His voice passed behind me. He was circling me. I could hear his boots hitting the floor. I put my tail out behind me and moved around the objects in the room until I was in a corner. I tried to conjure another ball of light, still nothing. "It's simple, really." He appeared in front of me holding a small circle of light, smiling at me. Then he disappeared into the darkness again.

"Simple for you. I'm the one with a curse."

Something shoved me from behind and I landed on my knees. I threw my tail and wings out to keep him away. I heard him walking in circles again.

"A curse is a trick of the mind. You're not actually cursed. Your mind thinks you are." The distortion and radio static of his voice was making me sick to my stomach.

"The fu--the he--what does that even mean?"

Something hard hit the tip of tail. I yelped and drew my tail in. The same thing happened to my wings and I curled in on myself.

"It means you're chaining yourself to the ground and still expecting to fly." He grabbed hold of my wrist and lifted it painfully high until I was on my toes. "Now, conjure light." His claws dug into my skin but I couldn't break free of his hold. I saw a faint glow of green that outlined his hand, arm and the rest of him. I was too busy staring at him to notice the faint glow of light from my palm.

He noticed my stare, somehow, and threw my hand over my head, making me fall backwards on my tailbone. His red eyes and sharp teeth ignited again. I scrambled back as they came closer and closer. My back hit the wall and I threw my hand up in between us. I squeezed my eyes shut and pictured light illuminating him.

When I didn't feel him touch me, I slowly opened my eyes. Alastor was standing with his arms and cane behind his back. He was smiling down at me. The light was coming from my hand, not from him. I had done it. I had conjured light.

"See, darling? It has everything to do with your mind." He pulled me up by my hand as the curtains and doors opened. Husker and Niffty were waiting in the kitchen, Husker with a look of worry on his face. "But perhaps you ought to read more," his hand tightened around mine, "to expand your imagination."

[sunandflame]

My imagination just graced me with a horny vision of Michikatsu arriving at my/your place on a huge, loud sport motorbike, wearing full racing leathers....He stops right on the driveway, takes off the helmet with his gloved hands and shakes out his hair with one sexy gesture ... 🤤

Astra, my beloved moon. You just sparked something very beautiful inside me. This image that you were describing so beautifully was so glorious inside my head that I had to turn this into a little fic. I hope you like it. ♥️

Bad Boy

Warnings: angst, heartbreak, hurt/comfort, suggestive

Word Count: 1146

Pairing: Michikatsu x Reader

crossposted on AO3

You've been depressed for the last few days because the man you've been dating hasn't contacted you in a while. It’s not like there is something serious between the both of you, it was just a fling. There was nothing serious between you two, just an affair. That’s what you were telling yourself constantly so you wouldn’t get caught with too many feelings. 

But with each subsequent night spent, it became more and more difficult to leave those feelings out. It was unhealthy, even toxic because he was the epitome of a bad boy.

Brooding, tall, mysterious, darkly handsome who does his own thing. He was suave in his own way and fuck, he knew exactly how to use your unprocessed daddy issues to get you do what he wants. It was so wrong on so many levels and yet you always became weak for him. You were not in control with your own feelings. Like today when you wrote to him again and made the crucial mistake to confess and tell him how much you wanted to see him again.

God you really missed this stoic man who didn’t show much emotion on his beautiful face. Who always dressed so elegantly, neatly and was a true gentleman, even with his words. Even if he could say or perform the dirtiest things in bed that even now made you blush at the memory. 

You fumbled nervously with your phone. You know you fucked up when there was still no answer from him. A few hours passed and you were 100% sure that you had fucked up and had finally driven him away with your messages.

Because bad boys like him don’t like when you are so open about your feelings. That just scares them away. That's why you'd better keep your mouth shut if you want to enjoy his cock for as long as possible.

Those were the words of your friend that now echoed in your head.

You looked at your phone again and he still hadn't responded even though he had read the message. Fuck… you really screwed up this time. With your head in the pillow, you screamed out your frustration and then let your tears flow.

You were so stupid, stupid, stupid...

This stupidity hurt, even though you knew it would happen one day eventually, because this thing between you two wasn't meant to last forever. But you were hoping, and those hopes were now crushed with his ghosting. 

You were crying into your pillow, crying over your own stupidity. Crying how miserable you felt and crying over a man that was never yours. 

Those tears came to a halt when you heard a loud roaring. 

Startled, you jumped from your bed and rushed to your window only to see a tall man in full black leather gear on a massive loud motorbike. He was standing in your driveway. The fuck…? Who was this? 

You ran angrily to your front door and wanted to ask the stranger why he was making such a noise here at your front door. You stood a few meters in front of him and it didn't matter how swollen your face looked from all the crying. Hardly mattered how bad you looked in your pajamas until you saw who was hiding under the black helmet.

“Michikatsu…”

How bold of him to look this sexy as he took off his helmet and shook his beautiful long hair free. Interestingly it was not in his usual ponytail. You just stared at him with your mouth open while he looked at you with amusement.

“Looks like you weren’t expecting me.” 

He was pulling each finger of his leather gloves to free his hands, his gaze not leaving you. You tried not to stare at his hand and have sinful thoughts. How can you be horny, while standing in your teddy bear pajamas? No, you wanted to be angry at him, but it was difficult when he stood like this in front of you. All sexy and tall and handsome and ugh! That asshole! 

You wanted to say so many things, but no words were coming out of your mouth. Just tears welled at the corner of your eyes threatening to fall at every moment. You blinked them away, but he saw them and the little smile on his face was gone. Just like yours.

You had turned away and walked back into your home. You didn’t see how he immediately walked around his bike and rushed behind you. You didn’t see how he was able to come into your home, before you slammed the door behind in front of his nose. You were not seeing anything, because your tears blurred your vision. You were angry and heartbroken. 

You felt his touch on your shoulder and he turned you towards him, his fingers under your chin, tilting it up to look into your eyes.

“Am I the one who made you cry, my beautiful?”

You nodded, the tears still falling. “Why did you not message me back?” Your brows furrowed at your question. You wanted to know what kind of explanation he had for ghosting you for several days.

He just stared at you for a long minute, his beautiful purple eyes looking into yours before he narrowed them to your lips. He came closer and you awaited his kiss longingly. 

Oh, this treacherous heart, you didn't want him to be near you anymore and yet it was the easiest thing for him to wrap yourself around your finger like that. The kiss was tender and gentle at first until he wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you closer to him. It became more passionate and your fingernails dug into the leather material of his jacket when your tongues touched.

Breathing heavily, you let go of each other. His lips touched your ear and a shiver ran down your spine as he whispered. “Why do you think I haven’t written to you? Answer me this question, my moon.”

You hesitate with your answer. You already resigned to your fate of suffering more heartbreak. You knew you could never escape his grasp. “Because you’re a bad boy who plays with my heart.”

A little smile tugged on his lips. “I may be a bad boy, but I am no man who tells someone who he loves over a ridiculous chat.”

You stared at him with wide eyes. Did you just hear it right? “Say it again.”

He knew which words you wanted to hear again. He took your face into his big hands, his face just inches away from yours. “I love you, my moon, and I won’t leave you anymore.”

The tears dwelled again at the corner of your eyes and you were not sure if you should laugh or cry, so you did both. “I love you too.”

[shadows-flames-and-ink]

After waiting the whole day, I FINALLY watched Act III of Arcane last night, and it did not disappoint. Once again, I need to rant about things I'm sure pretty much everyone already knows, but if I don't my skull will split in half. I'll definitely be bouncing around a bit here, this is going to take a while

I don't quite understand how Vi's death fixed the Silco problem in the alternate timeline, especially since he was experimenting with Shimmer when the job was taking place in the main timeline. (Edit: saw people talking about how her death was a wakeup call that convinced him to try a different way to improve the undercity without bringing down topside, and I really like that) Also, does other-Powder keeping some Hex-crystals and seeing what Ekko and Heimerdinger did with the shards mean that she could make Hextech in her universe and mess up their stuff? Also, what about Heimerdinger? Was he sent to another timeline? Somewhere else in the main one? What about the other-Heimerdinger, what happened to them? Other-Ekko lived, so why not him?

Either way, I thought it was a cute episode, it was nice to see Powder happy again. It was also kinda funny watching it switch between Ekko and Powder being cute together and Jayce barely surviving in the apocalypse

Back in the main timeline, seeing how broken Jinx was after Isha died broke me. When she started burning everything, then Ekko had to stop her from killing herself like a dozen times? That was just heartbreaking

On a happier note, Caitvi!!! I'm very happy they're together, of course, but um... well, I watched this show with my parents... so this happened:

Me: (internally) yay! they're together again!

(They start taking each other's clothes off)

Me: (internally) this got very awkward very fast... say something, anything

Me: (obviously embarrassed) well... um... at least we can see Vi's whole tattoo now, that's kinda cool

Mom: Are you saying it's cool we get to see them nak-

So that was not at all an awkward three minutes.

Anyway, not long after that, when everyone was preparing for the war with the Noxians and Victor's cult, I remembered Maddie existed. At first, I kinda felt bad for her, because she probably had no idea about the cell stuff and she liked Cait too. Then, when she revealed herself as a traitor, I didn't. Then Mel's magic made a bullet play pinball with her brain, so that was interesting. It was a rollercoaster of emotion for five minutes, cool death scene, and a great way to show off Mel's powers

Speaking of, Mel's duel with her mom? Awesome fight scene, got really scared for Cait for a while. The Black Rose at the end was cool, and Mel saying she knows who it is makes me very interested in a potential future project that explores that more

The Ekko-Jayce-Victor fight was amazing. Ekko redoing every mistake, even risking going back to far and breaking part of Victor's... mask? Face? Idk, what was that?

Anyways, the astral plane scene was beautiful. Plus, the flashback of wizard-Victor showing Jayce all the different runestones in different timelines to stop the Glorious Evolution Hex-Victor was incredible

I'm still confused though about how, when Victor and Jayce went into the runestone, all the other cultists died but Warwick was still able to keep fighting. That whole scene was sad, and Jinx sacrificing herself to save Vi was just depressing, but I'm calling it right now, Jinx isn't dead

In the end scene with Cait and Vi together after everything, Cait was looking at the Kiramman computer thing. More specifically, a blueprint of the Hexgates, zoomed-in around where Jinx would have blown herself up. In plain English, I could read at least 2-4 air ducts and vents marked down. Most of the writing in-universe is their own language, usually narrated over by one of the characters (right?). Only signs and sometimes names are in English, so the fact that the diagram had English means that we were supposed to read it, and know Cait was looking for something. Plus, Jinx's bombs always have colorful smoke with the explosion, so we never saw her body. I'm saying she blew up Warwick and somehow managed to ride the shockwave or Shimmer-dash to an air duct. I fully believe that Jinx is still alive

This show destroyed me, I loved every second of it. Can't wait to see more from this universe

I think that's it for now. I'm probably going to spend the rest of the day scrolling through all the Arcane tags writing, so I'll leave this here. I'll edit this if I think of anything else I guess. If you're still here, thanks for reading and have a nice day

[cherry-pop-elf]

Weasley Siblings Reacting To You Coming Out 🏳️‍⚧️ ((Trans Edition))

Some wholesome/projection because wah-! Also reader is under the impression of muggleborn, so muggle ideals would be different from wizards of course

Can he read as Platonic or Romantic! Clause Platonic love is valid af! I see you Ace/Just wanting stuff to not always be sex, folks!

Warnings: Transphobia,bullying ((not from the Weasleys obviously)) anxiety, depression, don’t worry it’s fluff just ya know. It’s scary coming out!

Writing Coms Open

((BTW this was in my drafts, and since Trans Visibility Day was today, it gave me motivation to finish it so let’s go-!))

William ‘Bill’

“Like Tonks-!” You did feel pretty silly, once he said that. Made you wonder why you waited so long. Literally you were friends with a Shapeshifter, so why would you coming out be so different? Oh right, what muggles would do if they knew. “Kinda, minus the whole ya know….Changing on the whim. Wish I could do that-“ You muttered, as Bill would pat your back. The pair of you, ever cozy in the library. Special permission to access the resurrected section, since he was being interned at Gringotts for curse breaking. Meant you had some privacy for such a sensitive topic. “Hey, we can find a way to. Right? It’s magic. I bet you my lucky dagger that the twins probably have something in the works.“ He comforted, and it made you smile. That Bill. Always finding a way to brag about his younger siblings somehow. That was just the cutest thing to you. Just a big brother, finding a way to show off his family. Helped a lot. “Whatever you need, I’ve got you. I know muggles do stuff differently, and a lot isn’t really to positive-“ Bill was the eldest, so it made sense he would be more informed with muggle culture. If his band shirts were to say anything. “Like name changes and stuff. Got a new name you like?” There was something so weird about how casual he was. Just, casual. It was a field, but also felt off. Like something bad should have happened. Maybe it will. Until then, though, you were happy to tell him your new name. “Suits you-!” He smiled that awkward half smile, given the other half didn’t exist anymore. “I like it.” And he was soon ruffling your hair. Older brother habits. They don’t die easy, and you were greatful for it.

Charlie

“Like Tonks-!” Why did you get Déjà vu? You shook it off, before nodding. “Yes, minus the actually changing my gender and stuff.” You clarified, as he multi tasked with the latest baby dragon Hagrid had gotten. Charlie just couldn’t resist, and now you two were stuck in his hut. Hagrid off to find someone to take said dragon, while Charlie treated it like a puppy. Kissing its snout, and making it squeal in utter delight. Despite the slobber, and despite the heat. One of the reason you trusted him with such a secret. His heart was so big, and he held such passion. Not to mention, you hoped he could help you get out of your shell a bit. Such a loud, and proud, man. Also, well, imagine trying to bully someone who’s buddies with the dragon tamer. “Neat-! So do I flip flip between pronouns, like Tonky, or you got new ones-?” You swore he was paying more attention to the dragon, than you. Weirdly, you liked it. He didn’t treat it as life or death, which healed something in you. He didn’t care, but in that good way. That it didn’t change how he saw you. Or, maybe you just asked at the right time. You had to shake his shoulder, to remind him you were still there. You two shared a laugh, as he went on rambling about how beautiful the dragon was, as you were able to relax a little easier.

Percy

“Trans-? Like as in Transfiguration? Finally, actually focusing on your studies.” You were already regretting this. You figured Percy would be someone to confide in, since he was a prefect. You were being bullied by the muggleborns, but the thing is….Hes a pure blood. He didn’t really understand what being trans was. So, you tried to explain. “Percy, they were making fun of me because I was born different.” You tried to explain, as he was starting to pay a bit more attention now. “They saw me going to the bathroom, and immediately threw books at me. It’s not like I don’t mind Moaning Myrtle, but it’s hard to pee with company.” You sniffled, as it was settling in now. “I’m so sorry, I’ll handle this immediately. I….Let’s go take you to the medical wing, to make sure you are patched….Could you explain more to me about this trans thing? Why it makes you different?” It’s a start. He’s willing to learn, and that’s more than so many. That gave you comfort. He’s confused, but willing. With his arm around you, you did your best to wizard it to his language. To get it out of your system, and for once? Percy stayed quiet, and listened. It’s a start, and you couldn’t be happier.

Fred

“Swear you are like the fifth person to tell me that this month-!” He laughed, as you blinked. Despite the prancing dynamic of the twins, they had grown a bit over the years. Suppose the older brother energy they held just drew in comfort. It’s easy to confide in them. They may not act like it, but they can keep a secret. Guess the courtyard was just a hot spot for such. “Wait, why are you telling me this anyway? I knew the moment I met you-!” He snorted, with an elbow nudge to you. Honestly? You were certain he was joking, but you wondered if he did. “About bloody time you figured it out yerself! Not sure how that whole thing works, but I’m sure George and I can brew something up for ya. Need a beard? Or bigger hips? I’m sure we got something-“ That had you roll your eyes. “Sounds like an excuse to turn me into your personal lab rat-“ That had him blink. “The hell is a lab rat?” Right. Pure blood. “I’ll explain it to you later. Just, promise not to tell anyone? I’m….not ready yet.” Fred seemed like he was ready to argue, about needing to just be passionate about who and what you are, but he was hushed. As if he could already hear Molly yelling at him. That was trauma for another occasion. Instead, he made a zipping motion to his lips, and threw away the key. “Thanks.” You smiled, as he gave a thumbs up. Pretending he couldn’t speak at all, and it got you to giggle. Calmed your nerves down just fine.

George

“That’s uh….That thing-! Yeah-!” He bullshitted, but you understood why. He’s the more emotional side of the dynamic duo. So many kids come to them for advice, but more come to George. You would pay a guess that many who went to Fred were actually looking for George, but didn’t realize it was Fred at all. You only managed, because he was wearing his Quidditch Jersey. Least, you think it was his. Shit, was this Fred? Nope, Fred walked by. With Angelina. Phew. “George, do you need me to explain?” You asked, as he rubbed his neck nervously. Embarrassed he wasn’t instantly able to comfort, like it was his only job. “It’s a muggle thing, breathe.” And breathe he did, as he laid back down on the common room couch. With a quick run down, it clicked. He’s an inventor, they are good at thinking outside norms. “Oh! Oh man, that sounds stressful as hell. Hey, anyone starts shit-“ He gave a sharp click with his tongue, and made a shooting motion with his finger. “Consider them chucked into a vanishing closet.” And given he’s a Weasley, you didn’t underestimate him. So, instead, you hugged him. A big, warm, squeeze. Of course, it was returned. Oh those Weasleys.

Ron

“Would you be offended if I go ask Hermione what that means-?” Least he’s honest, and knew better to ask her than anyone else. Hard to ever get alone time with him, as he was glued to her and Harry. Surprised to catch him alone, for once, and took the chance while you could. Now to just look at your breakfast plate, nervous. “I’ll just explain it, the best I can.” You sighed, as you saw Ron wince a little. Feeling he did something wrong. “It’s a muggle thing-“ You quickly said, as he breathed a little easier. A few nervous gulps of juice, and many confused brows, it clicked. "Woah, that sounds terrible. I rememberer when Harry and i had to drink a polyjuice potion. we were still the same gender, and all, but my skin just felt so wrong. Everything was wrong. was just a suit, and i wanted to peel it off. Even if it hurt." You had to stare. That was just so accurate to how you felt. Your eyes watered. “Did I say something wrong, again-? I’m sorry about-“ But you hugged him, with your eyes in his shoulder. Don’t get Ron started on how many times he’s had to be the shoulder for Harry. So, like a time turners clockwork, he held you back. Comforting you. Someone got it.

Ginny

“Think I’m that to-“ Ginny said, as you two just laid in the grass. Just trying to relax, from a long school day. “Like, maybe it’s just because I was raised by a bunch of brothers. Just, being JUST a girl feels weird. Like I’m more than that, I’m not JUST that. Maybe I’m feeling something else entirely. Never been the same, after that book.” She admits, ready to stress her out all over again. Voldemort did a number on her. What a way to start Hogwarts. Damn. “Well, maybe don’t think about it too hard. It’s both super complicated, but not at the same time. It’s more a feeling than anything else. You can be born it, or maybe over time it changes. Maybe by tomorrow you feel something else. Then, the next day it changes.” You tried to explain, as you watched the clouds. “Yeah, like magic.” She agreed, as she looked to her broomstick next to her. Thinking back to her childhood. “Maybe I am a guy, but Mum being so excited to have a girl just….Made me feel like I HAD to be….” God was that relatable. “Trans buddies?” You asked, and offered a hand. In a playful solidarity. You figured that would comfort her, or maybe now he. “Yeah, Trans buddies.” Ginny smiled, as you shared hands. “Jean sounds nice.” Ginny said. “Jean does sound nice.” You agreed.