#calls back to his own trauma with the children of darkness

[carveredlunds]

"Oh, don't be afraid, don't," I whispered, sinking my teeth quickly into his neck. "Hmmmmm, trust in me," I whispered, savoring the blood, drinking it slowly, trying not to laugh with delight, my blood tears of relief falling down on his little face. "Oh, dream, dream sweet and pretty things. There are saints who will come; do you see them?" — The Vampire Armand, Anne Rice

[angstandhappiness]

Ach

"I feel like the child of an alcoholic--you know the problem isn't yours, but it is. You want to help, but you don't know how, so you lie awake at night in fear and confusion, and nothing gets resolved. I'm not sure, but I think Bruce is going crazy, and I'm lost not knowing what to do." /// "I love Bruce. He's my family. But I couldn't bring him out of the past. And after a while, I realized the longer I spent trying to get him out of the past and into the present...I was sacrificing my own future. I don't want that for you." -Batman: Year Three (1989) vs. Urban Legends #10 (2021)

[revasserium]

roronoa zoro; 21,051 words (not including epilogue), fluff and angst, ENEMIES!!! to lovers, the slowest of slow burns, canon-normal violence, on-page description of injury, excessive use of flashbacks, some banter, healing from trauma, baroque works!reader to strawhat!reader, no "y/n", emotionally constipated!zoro, hurt and comfort, angst with a happy ending; (epilogue tags will be posted separately)

summary: in which neither you nor zoro are the children you remember each other to be.

update: new chapters will be posted on @shouyuus!!!

a/n: IT'S FINALLY HERE!!! i honestly cannot believe i actually finished writing this lmfao. but anyway, this post will act as a table of contents/masterlist of sorts, and i will update links to the separate chapters as they go up. chapters will be posted every few days (but they are all done! except for the epilogue LOL). i've tagged everyone who has req-ed to be tagged in this series so far on this prologue post, but if you wish to be tagged for the upcoming chapters and you're not already on this fics specific taglist, please comment below to be added! and without further ado -- here we go!

TABLE OF CONTENTS ━

prologue: someone, somewhere

chapter one: a shadow of the past

chapter two: tell no tales

chapter three: sleep of the living, dreams of the dead

chapter four: another life

chapter five: true love's kiss

epilogue: la petite mort (nsfw)

prologue: someone, somewhere

He remembers you most as a child, in halcyon images and gold-limned flashes of his own childhood memories, the edges blurring watercolor soft, but the center (always you) carved in knife-sharp relief.

You were one of the few children that lived in Shimotsuki Village who hadn’t come from the doujou — one of the few children he knew that (at least to the best of his knowledge) had a thing called family. A mother to braid your hair, a father to chase the darkness away, a warm bed and a kitchen that always smelled of freshly made rice. And perhaps it was jealousy, or some other more complicated emotion that had been then too big to name with one single word, but he’d never gone out of his way to befriend you like the other kids from the doujou did — fascinated as they were by your soft hands and round cheeks and the bright, glittering array of homemade sweets you’d bring with you once every couple of weeks.

He’d learn later on that it was because Shimotsuki-sensei had saved your father’s life at some point in time; the story now lost to the annals of legend and withering memory, but back then, he’d only assumed it was the natural way of things. Of waking up for kata practice and then settling in for lunch, and then maybe, if it was to be a good day, you, with your basket of sweets and your blue-bell laughter.

And perhaps this is why, years later, when he meets you again in a dark, nameless village tavern, he doesn’t recognize you — not at first. Because you’d looked so different. Gone was the roundness in your cheeks, or the natural star-bright light in your eyes. Gone, too, were the bright braids that your hair had always been set in — he remembers so clearly, watching the other boys from the doujou jab their fingers into the rings of your pinned up braids, pulling down just to hear you squeak. He hadn’t said anything then, stupidly thinking him above it all, watching as you tried to jerk away, but laughing when the boys finally relented with half-hearted apologies.

You always threatened to take their sweets away; you never did, in the end.

But there, then, in that tiny tavern, you’d been thin, your hair dark as an oil spill, loose and inky as it cascades over your shoulders, your eyes lightless as the windows to an abandoned house — the hollowness made all the more visceral by the light he knew once inhabited them. The way loneliness is always more potent when coming back to it, the second time around.

He wanders up to the bar, slates you a glance before rapping his knuckles on the worn wood to catch the bartender’s attention.

“I’ll have beer and a refill of whatever the lady’s having.”

You shift slightly, shoulders hunching towards your ears.

“Thanks, but no thanks,” you say, shifting to shield your face from his gaze.

Zoro cocks his head, tossing a few Berry towards the bartender as they set down a stein of beer and a champagne flute to replace the one in front of you.

“Can’t a guy buy a girl a drink?” Zoro asks, rolling his shoulders as he reaches out for his beer. You eye him warily.

“Not for a guy that’s been tracking me for three weeks straight.”

Zoro hums, thumb poised on the hilt of his swords.

“We just happened to be going in the same direction.”

You reach out to run a forefinger along the rim of the thin champagne flute before swirling it once by the base. You watch the bubbles fizzle before leaning in to take a dainty sip.

“And they say chivalry is dead…” you murmur, almost too softly for him to hear. Zoro scoffs, allowing himself a twinge of a smirk before his mouth falls flat.

“You let me track you for three whole weeks.”

There’s no question in his words, only a harsh, accusatory certainty.

You lick your lips, leaning back in your stool, tugging your glass of champagne with you.

“Maybe I wanted the company.”

“Or maybe… you wanted me to follow you here.”

Every muscle in his body is tense, drawn taut as a tightrope, coiled tight as a spring.

You sigh, twisting a single lock of your hair around a finger, examining the ends as if looking for split hairs.

Then, quick as a flash, you’re at each other’s throats — him with a sword poised at your jugular, you with a knife pressed against his stomach.

“One move —” you warn, digging the knife slightly further into his skin. Distinctly, Zoro feels the pressure slice through his thick linen shirt, the cool kiss of the blade against his abdomen. And he’s killed enough by now to know that you’ve picked a major artery — one that would hurt, and take minutes for him bleed out. Just long enough for him to suffer, but not enough to get help.

The edge of his mouth ticks upward — not bad.

It’s then, in the infinitesimal flicker of your eyes meeting his, that he realizes who you are.

He nearly topples back, jerking away slightly with the revelation. Your eyes go wide, jolted by his sudden movement. But he’s quick enough to evade the sharp jab of your knife and a second later, you’re on either ends of the tavern, drawn blades and bared teeth.

“Y-you!” the word rips from Zoro like an unripe scab, thick and hard and still bloody underneath.

You lick your lips, eyes narrowing to slits beneath your long, lanky hair.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“The hell you don’t.”

“Oi! No fighting in the bar!” the barkeep’s voice is gruff and loud, and for a second, Zoro wonders if you’ll listen. The next, the sharp clang of metal on metal stuns him backwards a few steps as you wrest your knives from between two of his katanas, snarling.

“If you’re so much of a gentleman — let’s take this outside.”

“Ladies first,” Zoro spits out as he whips both swords through the air before sheathing them. He makes a show of holding the tavern door for you as you stalk out in front of him, your hackles raised, your knives jutting out from your belt like so many pairs of sharpened claws.

“What do you want?” you ask, as soon as you’re both out of the bar and standing in the moonlit street outside, the wharf to your left, the strip of small, rundown taverns to your right.

The air twangs with the metallic smell of fish and the thick, oppressive sweetness of rotting wood.

“An explanation,” Zoro says, crossing his arms and planting his feet.

“I don’t owe you anything.”

Zoro nods, “Sure. But that doesn’t mean I don’t wanna know.”

You lick your lips, glaring at him for a second longer before turning and marching down the rickety boardwalk. A moment later, Zoro levels himself with you as you round a corner onto a small stretch of beach, pillowed against a backdrop of sharp, unrelenting rocks, the tips bleached white by the round, silver moon.

“There was a beach just like this,” you say, stepping onto the tide-soaked sand, leaning down to pick up a fragment of a broken seashell, washed ashore by an errant wave.

It takes Zoro a second to realize you’re talking about Shimotsuki village, and the tiny little beach on the other side of the dense, cedar wood.

“Yeah. A bunch of us used to play there — see who can throw rocks out the furthest.”

“You were always the best at that,” you say, your voice softer than he’d heard all night.

“Yeah, well…” Zoro shrugs, leaning down to pick up a piece of rock, weighing it in his palm a few times before whipping his arm back to snap it into the gentle, shushing waves. You both watch as the rock skids out over the water before plunking into the sea, “Guess I’ve always been kind of a show-off.”

The sound of your laughter sends summertime sparklers racing up his spine.

The quiet pools between you like spilt blood, rank and dripping.

“So. You go by Ms. Double Nines now, I heard,” Zoro says, in a flagging attempt to be casual as he turns to glance at you, both his hands resting on the hilt of his swords.

You stand next to him, your eyes focused on a point far out on the horizon, still as statue.

“What’s it to you?”

Zoro sighs, looking down. In the pale, cool moonlight, his earrings glint like baring teeth.

“What happened?”

You suck in a breath.

"Life happened,” you say, turning back towards him with a steely glint in your eyes. Zoro stiffens, his grip tightening on his swords as he sizes you up. He does the mental calculations — you’re just far enough for him to defend against an attack, but close enough where if things were to go south entirely, he’d have a hard time getting back to safety.

You grin, seemingly noticing his rough internal calculations.

“Do yourself a favor, Roronoa — and don’t ask questions you don’t wanna know the answers to,” you say, flicking out one of your blades and tossing it up into the air, only to catch it around your finger, swinging it round and round, the sharp edge of the blade nicking the air just shy of your cheekbone.

“Who said I didn’t want to know?” Zoro presses, bracing himself for a fight.

You chuckle, the sound harsh and mirthless.

“If you’d wanted to fight me properly, you wouldn’t have waited till I got you onto this stretch of deserted beach.”

“Maybe I just wanted a quiet place to kill you.”

“Or maybe…” your voice is so low Zoro almost doesn’t catch the stomach-wrenching longing in your words, “I just wanted a quiet place to die.”

The sharp shink of blades being drawn is heart-rendingly familiar, but the bone-rattling clash of metal on metal still shakes him to the roots of his teeth. Zoro grunts as he parries a blow from either side, before crossing his swords to catch your assault down the center.

You’re fast, he’ll give you that, your body smaller and quicker. You slip through the shadows with the comfort of a person who knows nothing but and he can’t help wondering at the life you’ve led that had pushed you to this point.

To having a mark on your back, a bounty on your head.

You’re a good fighter — this much, he acknowledges. But good isn’t usually good enough to best him. This much, he also knows. Yet somehow, you’re keeping up, somehow, you’re pushing him back, forcing him to retreat one step and then another. It’s not until you duck beneath one of his pin-wheeling blades and force yourself into a knife’s-breath of his space that he realizes — it isn’t that you’re good, it’s that you’re reckless.

Reckless with your own body in a way that makes him stumble back at the realization. Reckless, in the way you charge forward and thrust your body into spaces where he’d easily be able to slip a blade between your ribs — and later, when he’s wiping his swords clean of your oxidizing blood, he’d wonder why he didn’t.

Still, there’s something terrifying in the way you barely flinch when he knicks your arm, drawing a dark line of blood through your clothes, or how you jerk yourself forward when the tip of his sword catches your stomach, almost as if daring him to impale you in one fell swoop.

“You — you used to be… someone else,” he says, panting as he steadies himself against a sharp jut of moonlit rocks. Behind you, the ocean churns, dark and foaming as it throws itself onto the jagged reefs.

You lick your lips, wiping a smear of blood from your cheek. Your chest heaves with the exertion, but there’s a pale, flickering ache behind your eyes that sets Zoro’s whole body on edge.

He shivers as you grin, savage and unrecognizable as the tiny girl with mochi-round cheeks who had once upon a time offered him sweets in a hand-woven basket.

“Yeah? Well — so did you.”

TAGLIST: @brairslair @msheds0519 @yunabelless @lynndt-chocolate @lostonthrillerbark @stunies @tsumu-senpai @phroggii @ssailormoonnn @breathinginyoursmoke @guridoodles @kyllium @naomihatake @itoshiexx @mythicallystupid @mars-mizuko @astroniii @crispynutella @enhastolemyheart @fanficwriter101 @jamesbparker @dira333 @weirdowithaphone @ink-perfect

[rafeandonlyrafe]

sin, sin, sin.

words: 1.6k

warnings: 18+ only, smut, p in v sex, unprotected sex, semi public sex, catholic church setting, confessional, rafe kind of pretending to be a priest (itll make sense quickly), religious trauma, if youre religious and easily offended probably skip this one

rafe knows little about his mother, but the one thing he does know is that she was a devout catholic. maybe it's stories ward told him, or the fact that his strongest memory of her was her funeral, held in the same catholic church he's currently pushing the grand wooden doors to enter.

it's his last chance as he looks into the candlelit hall. to turn around and go back into the darkness of the night, let the inky blackness swallow him whole.

rafe feels a pang in his chest. good old catholic guilt his mother passed down to him. rafe lets out a curse before he steps foot into the church, wishing he got his father's fake christianity instead, going to church on holidays and only using the religion when it suits you.

rafe looks away from the altar, the cross hanging above it, and to the confession booth to the side of the pews. his feet carry them there with the false confidence he's always been able to paste on as a front.

rafe looks at the door and then swallows thickly. guilt, guilt, guilt. he's not sure anything could help, yet he opens the handle and steps inside.

the creaky door slams shut behind him as rafe sits and faces forward towards the screen, just opaque enough to make out a figure on the other side in the low light.

rafe realizes then that he doesn't know the words. 

“forgive me father, for i have sinned.” a voice from the other side suddenly rings out, a soft, feminine voice. rafe suddenly is aware of his mistake. “it has been two days since my last confession.”

rafe knows he should interrupt you, stop you from continuing on, but something in him stirs him to stay, his interest peaking.

“ive slept with another man. i know you're tired of hearing it, father. i just can't help myself. i can't seem to wait, it's like something takes over me. father, i feel as if i am possessed by some sexual demon.” 

you scoff and rafe can see your body crumple on the other side, becoming an even smaller shape.

“tell me what happened.” rafe says.

“i-i had a date. a nice catholic man, or at least who i thought was a nice catholic man. he took me to dinner, and then i thanked him by getting on my knees immediately after.”

“keep going…” there's something about your voice that stirs rafe, has his hand gravitating to his crotch, there's a sexual prowess in your voice mixed with the guilt and innocence, like you're describing the deeds of some other woman entirely.

“he didn't even initiate it. i did. i pulled him into my apartment when he was dropping me back home. can you believe that? he was being a gentleman bringing me back to my doorstep and i just had to be a total hussy.”

rafe presses his hand down against his growing cock, imagining himself as that so called catholic gentleman.

“i unzipped his pants and tugged them down. he wasn't even hard. i played with him over his underwear, kissed his length and sucked on it and everything.”

rafes hands follow your description as he leans back against the wooden wall, tugging down his zipper and closing his eyes to picture it even better, some anonymous bold woman.

“i then pulled his underwear down. right there in the front hallway. when i saw him… i knew i was going to sleep with him next.”

you pause for long enough that rafe realizes he needs to speak. he hopes his voice doesn't come out strained. “then you slept with him?”

“yes. didn't even make it to the bedroom, he took me against the dining room table. how am i ever expected to settle down and have my own children and a loving family when all i really want is that high.”

“how does the high make you feel?”

“it comes right before the orgasm, really.” your voice drops in octave, and rafe wonders if your pussy is getting wet reimagining the scene. “when he's inside of me, pounding hard, and i know he's about to lose it too.”

rafe pushes his underwear down and tugs his cock out, not kid himself any longer that he's not extremely turned on and cannot leave the confessional with his pants tented.

“we're moaning in sync, not worrying about the neighbors in that moment. im clenching around him and he's-” you hesitate for a moment, and rafe swears he hears a sensual exhale, as if you may be touching yourself on the other side of the booth. “he's stretching me out. i love the pulsing of right when he's about to cum-”

rafe lets out a moan as he strokes before he realizes and sits up suddenly, but his reaction is too delayed as you're out of your booth and opening the door to his.

“you perv! father-” you come face to face with a handsome young man instead of the elderly priest you expected. “you're not the father.”

your eyes then travel down to his cock and that devious part of you taking over again.

“it-it was an accident.” rafe says quickly, trying to explain why he's in the priests side of the confessional when you step inside and close the door behind you.

“i have another sin to confess.” you pull the skirt of your dress up, revealing that you're wearing nothing beneath, your glimmering wet pussy directly in front of rafes face. he could so easily lean forward and taste you.

“ive always wanted to fuck in the confessional.”

rafe grabs your hips and tugs you down. he doesn't even know your name. he doesn't need to as his lips smash against yours, wildly making out.

you reach down between your bodies, grasping rafes hard cock and giving it a few strokes before you line yourself up.

you hesitate for just a moment before sinking down as rafe moans into your mouth, hoping that his mother isn't up in heaven looking down at him desecrating this holy place with you.

you gasp and pull away from the kiss as you adjust, your pussy being stretched just the way you described liking it.

“fuck.” rafe hisses out.

“shouldn't curse in a place of worship.” you smirk at him, cutting off whatever reply he had as you begin to move, bouncing up and down.

rafe grabs your hips, helping you move. his hands are strong as they disappear beneath your dress, needing to feel your bare skin.

“so good.” you whimper, pressing your forehead against rafes, breathing heavily as the temperature in the small booth rises.

“fuck, your pussy-” rafe grunts out as his hips begin to snap up into your tight heat. 

“you ever had a good catholic girl like this?” there's a hint of playfulness in your voice that rafe is shocked you can manage with your labored breathing.

“from your confession, im not sure you're all that good.” rafe says, moving his hand to rub his thumb over your clit, mostly just to see the reaction on your face as you moan out.

hes thankful for the late hour as he doesn't move his mouth forward to silence yours, letting your beautiful symphony of pleasure escape through the confessional walls and fill the church.

“this high.” you arch your back, eyes rolling back in your head as your fingers tighten on rafes shoulders. 

he knows exactly what you're speaking of. that moment when you're both on the apex, his cock swelling inside you while his thumb rubs against your clit, doing anything he can to elicit a reaction out of you, to increase your pleasure even more.

“cum for me.” rafe commands in a shockingly even voice, even surprising himself as your body stills and then shakes, crumpling forward into rafes strong arms as your pussy clenches around rafes cock, and it's all he needs to release himself, thrusting upwards and spilling inside of your cunt.

you're both breathing heavily as you come down from your high, wrapped up in each others bodies and your own intersecting pleasure before you have to pull away, realization setting in.

“oh my god.” you giggle. “we just fucked in the church.”

“shit.” rafe laughs as well. this is certainly not what he meant to do when entering into the church, yet his soul still feels lighter as he looks at your smile.

“god,” you look up at the ceiling, as if you're talking to him directly. “im so sorry. im going to hell.”

“i guess ill see you there.” rafe chuckles before he's interrupted by a gasp as you pull off of him.

rafe is quick to get himself back together, very aware of the fact that you're still bare under your dress, his cum no doubt dropping down your thigh.

you push open the door to the tiny booth and take a breath of cool air before rafe is quick to follow you out.

“i thought i heard a noise.”

you both freeze as you look up to see the nun walking from across the aisle.

“do you need the priest? he's already retired for the night.”

“no, sister.” you respond, a soft, innocent smile gracing your features as you grasp rafes hand and pull him to continue towards the exit. “see you at service sunday.”

you both let out a laugh as you push open the large wooden doors and flee from any more questions.

“can i at least get your name?” rafe asks as you enter into the night, way lit by moonlight.

“no.” you smile back at him. “but i will have another confession to make. tomorrow. same time.”

[ccraccz]

Hello! I'm I wanted to ask you if you could make a Wind Breaker boys react to childhood friend! Reader moving to or returning back to Makochi and seeing them again?

Or like how are they with a Childhood friend! Reader? (Specially for Sakura, he is my favorite character!)

Only if you want to, obviously!

Characters: Sakura Haruka, Umemiya Hajime, Kaji Ren x GN!Reader

TW: bullying, a wee bit of angst, assault (?), fighting (duh)

FRIENDLY REUNIONS

Sakura Haruka

You were unlike anyone else when he was in his home town

You didn't tell him that his hair was weird

or yell at him that he was a freak like the other kids

He never had a reason to have to defend himself against you

He saw that you tried to constantly play with him, pointing out at the park and asking your guardian to play just for a minute

if they would let you, he would see you attempt to beeline towards him only to be pulled away before you could reach him.

during school over at his home town, students would pick on him and teachers would treat him differently

but you didn't

you stayed indifferent even if it meant getting beat down and having to come back to school to a desk filled with degrading words and a bruised up face and body

He would defend you as much as he can when he sees you get picked on by other students due to you helping him

but right after beating them, he would constantly tell you that he "doesn't need your help", and that "you stop defending him"

Hell... he didn't even know your name...

so when he left, it felt like a a breath of fresh air, the weight of having to protect someone else being lifted off of his shoulders

so when he saw you in Pothos, talking to Umemiya and Kotoha

it was as if ice water was dunked on him

seeing you, a scar on your beautiful face, the same hair style, the same eye shape and color

"SAKURA-KUN! HEEEY!!!" Umemiya calls out when the bell rings, announcing a new customer coming in. In front of the whitehaired male, you sat with an order of fried onigri in front of you and a cup of {drink}, a small blush on your face.

You turn around in your chair. 'That name.. It can't be...' Your eyes are wide as you stand up quickly. "S-Sakura..."

The same two toned hair color, the same heterochromatic eyes, the same pout and blush he had on his face when he saved you for the last time. He still looked the same...

You rush towards, him, being careful enough to not let the chair fall behind you, before tackling him.

"GUH!-" He grunts in response, holding your body to not send you both to the ground, his face bright red, nose bleeding slightly form the fight he just came from, eyes shaking from the sudden affection. He can't comprehend.

"Oh my goodness, Sakura!!" You call out, tears brimming in your eyes, hands gripping tightly "I didn't think I would see you here! Last time I saw you was when..." Your ranting fell on deaf ears as Sakura.exe overheated.

Umemiya Hajime

You always played with him and the rest of the kids in the orphanage

and you didn't judge him like other did when his hair started to turn white due to the stress and trauma he had to g through when he first arrive to the orphanage

Your parents donated a lot of their things when they where going to leave to the orphanage, which meant that you donated a lot of your own things, like your favorite nightlight because you where no longer scared of the dark, or the large amounts of books you had in your room

he was sad that you had to leave, and so where the other children.

but he believes that YOU were the most sad of them all

the memory of you, sobbing into his small shoulder when you told him that your father got a new job opportunity in Yokohama and that you had to move still replays in his mind when he misses you

the cute nightlight that you gave the orphanage was still beside him, using it for when he's awake late at night and reading

so when he gardening around on the rooftop, the last thing he expected was a call from Hiragi talking about how some "Citizen wanting to meet him"

So he has Hiragi and his group bring you to the rooftop of his school for a small meeting

what he didn't expect is to see you

Standing beside Hiragi, you huffed in exhaustion, the amount of stairs taking a toll on both your legs and your lungs.

"So... how do you know Umemiya?" the blond haired teen asks, hand on the nob of the door to the roof.

"Oh! We were friends when we where younger, but I had to leave for Yokohama because my father got a better job opportunity!" You explained, your words being enough to let him twist the knob and open the door to the roof top.

Walking behind him, your tummy churns in nervousness, anxiety running through your veins. Your hands are behind you, not wanting them to express your emotions unlike your eyes.

"Umemiya, here they are," Hiragi speaks up, rubbing the back of his neck with a large grimace on his face. Umemiya was crouched down, a small, blue, towel on his neck collecting the sweat that beaded around his neck and dripped down his face from the beating heat. He turns around when he hears Hiragi's voice, looking behind the male with a large, close eyed, smile on his face.

"Hello! Where you looking for me?" Umemiya asks loudly, before he open his eyes again and see you.

"Haji... I'm back..." Your eyes are wide. The small boy you were friends with was no longer shorter than you, his hair was no longer white atop of black, his smile was brighter than ever, and he was built.

Instantly after the nickname was dropped from your lips, his menacingly large form was in front of you, arms wrapped tightly around your waist as he lifts you up into the air with a squeal of exitement.

"[name]!!! IT'S BEEN SO SO SO SO SO LONGGG!!!" he calls out in happiness.

From behind him, Hiragi takes a two gaskun-10's, watching the white haired male lift you and twirl around in happiness.

Kaji Ren

You were his first friend in elementary school, being his neighbor had his perks

he would save your when you were bullied, and you would help him calm down when he got a little to heated

he would hold your hand when you both would walk back home and you would bring him extra food from your home when he needed snacks

so when you came over for your weekly play date crying, he was really angry, wanting to know why you were crying

having to move to another city was scary, especially when you don't have your best friend there to save your from the possible bullies you might gain in the new school

So when you left, he was way more irritable and much more stressed, not having you near him to calm him down with your constant affection or words

When he met Hiragi and the rest of the main group that helped him out, it always felt like there was a small piece missing

and the guys could tell that there was always something off. but they couldn't tell what it was

you coming back to your home town in Makochi after years away from it was like a breath of fresh air

what you didn't expect is to be cornered by a group of highschoolers wanting to cause trouble

and he didn't expect to see you again, saving you the same way he used to when you both were younger

It was that same move, that same hairstyle, those same angry but alluring eyes. He was annoyed seeing some stupid group taking advantage of a innocent person, Kusumi and Enomoto right beside him.

"Those damn, fucking..." Kaji mumbled under his breath, standing in front of he gang leader and wiping his face with the back of his hand, Enomoto right beside him. Kusumi stood in front of you, blocking your body and maybe even your view, his frizzy hair catching your eye.

Kusumi quickly types something on his notes app before showing you.

'Are you okay? You seem quite frazzled ( ;´･ω･`)'

You smile lightly, nodding before turning back to the fighting, watching every move your childhood friend did. Every move he did in front of you now was a more refined version of what he did back then. It was fascinating, and almost mesmerizing.

"Yeah, just..." You mumble "reminiscing the last time Kaji saved me when we where younger." Kusumi looks at you before looking down again and taps away at his phone.

'Yk Kaji? ('_'?)'

You chuckle, "Yes I do, we were neighbors-"

CRASH

You sigh. "We were neighbors when we were younger, he used to save me constantly when we were in school!"

'PLZ THAT'S SO CUTE! ｡ﾟ(ﾟ´Д｀ﾟ)ﾟ｡'

"What'rrrr you guys gigglin' 'bout overrrr therrre?" Enomoto asks, his tongue rolling each 'R' in the sentence.

'She was just explaining that Kaji used to save her constantly when they were younger! ( ;´･ω･`)'

You nod along before looking at Kaji, who is frozen looking at you. The stick of his Chupa Chups almost falling out of his mouth as he looks at you. You, who has changed, matured, but also you who is in constant trouble but know that you'd get help. He walks slowly, getting closer to you, almost as if if he were to move too fast, you would run away.

"[name]?" He mumbles, before being hugged tightly.

"I'm back Ren," You say, voiced muffled because of his hoodie.

[Kusumi and Enomoto look at each other before giggling and turning away from the affection you're giving their grade captain.]

A/N: THIS IS ADORBS! LOVED WRITING THISSSS HHHHH I truly truly hope that you all enjoy reading this as much I as I loved writing this!!! (I might start writing for enomoto and kusumi, they're so so so so cute, i just wanna bite them-)

[miley1442111]

believe me- a.hotchner (18+)

summary: aaron is there for you during a particularly difficult case.

pairing: aaron hotchner x bau!fem! reader

warnings: reader grew up in a cult, mention of hurting women, domestic violence, mental, physical, emotional abuse, children in dangerous situations, miscarriages, abortions, women being treated awfully, i hate this it scares me (i think that's it? PLEASE TELL ME IF I MISSED SOMETHING)

this is pretty dark so I will be saying it's 18+ only because of the content, please remember you manage what you consume, mdni.

not entirely proofread

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You sighed, walking into the bullpen. Another day. 

You sat down at your desk and started on your paperwork with as much enthusiasm as one would assume to be normal, but Aaron knew it wasn’t. He’d been watching you, they all had. The sunken eyes, dry skin, yawning at all hours of the day, refusing to stop working, refusing drinks or food, being ‘too busy’ to come for after work drinks. You had even stopped responding to his texts regarding Jack. You had always been the one on the team that Aaron was closest with, mostly because he was in love with you. Due to that, he also invited you over a lot to watch movies, bake, come to football games, etc with Jack. Jack adored you, probably more than he liked his own father (at least, that’s what Aaron thought). You hadn’t been texting or calling back. You two had gone on a few dates, at first he thought he had done something wrong, but then he watched you closer. It wasn’t him. 

Aaron stepped out of his office. “We have a new case, everyone meet in 5.”

You picked yourself up from your desk and followed him in, sitting in the chair furthest from him. 

“We have a new case, Dallas,” he announced. 4 images of women popped up on the screen, and you looked down, knowing exactly who and what they were. “4 women from the same family, killed in the same way, over one decade.” 

“Were they mother and children?” Spencer asked. 

“Yes,” you answered. “Their names are Delores, Tiffany, Riley, and Freya Howell and they all died via the head trauma they sustained in the ritual. The youngest was 17.” 

They all stared at you. You knew this was coming. You understood it.

“What ritual?” Aaron asked, looking straight at you. 

“The birthing,” you answered simply. 

“Why do you know about this?” Derek asked, just as dumbfounded as the rest of them.

You pointed at the screen. “That’s my mother, that’s my little sister, that’s my older sister, and that’s my cousin. There’s no point in getting us in. No matter what we find they claim religious freedom and hide. It’s a cult and it’s about killing women. I work with children to get them out.”

“So you know people in the cult right now?”

“I lived in that cult. I know every single person on that compound's entire medical, familial, and social history. Including the Supreme Leader. Trust me, they have all the fucking permits they could ever need. I’ve been working with another group to try and take them down, but it doesn’t work.”

“We have to try,” Aaron said, stoic as ever. 

“It doesn’t matter what you throw at them, legally they’re untouchable,” you sighed. “If we really want to help, then we need to work on getting the children out.”

“We need to make them illegal then,” Aaron said matter-of-factly, and you just sighed. 

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ

On the plane, the team was wary of you, it was fine, you understood why. You had just told them that you grew up in the strange woman-killing cult you were now all going to investigate. 

“So what is ‘the ritual’?” Spencer asked. 

“When a woman is pregnant and they bring it to full-term, they are killed as their child enters the word. In the ‘teachings’ it is said to bring the child the strength of 2 people, and that they carry their mothers’ spirit. That’s why everyone’s middle name is their mothers’,” you explained. “See, it’s unusual for the women at the compound to bring children to full-term, at least, when I was there. And in the ‘teachings’, it was written that no women could get pregnant for years and years, but that one, the Supreme Leaders’ mother, could, and when he was in labour, he told her husband to bludgeon her. He did, and the Supreme Leader was born. They are trying desperately to have a new prophet. A new leader. So they began practising the ‘Ritual’ back when I was probably 12. Also, it’s difficult for women to get any kind of medical care in the compound, since they’ve rejected modern medicine, so it’s not uncommon for women to miscarry.”

“How old were you when you left?” Derek asked, the entire plane silent as you recounted your traumatic past. 

“18,” you explained. “I was one of the lucky ones. My mother was a teacher, before she joined the compound. She never wanted to join, it was always my dad’s idea. So she broke the rules. She taught us and another small group of children maths, English, history, and modern politics from any of the newspapers she could smuggle in. When we turned 18, they gave us a test. It was believed by the Supreme Leader that you were either born with the ability to write or not, and all of us in the group passed, so we were sent out to the world to recruit. We ran away. Found a place that they could never find us, cut all contact with each other, and moved on with our lives. I work with a few of them, trying to get children out, but for our own safety, we all act like we’ve never met before.”

“What happened to the others?”

“The ones who didn’t pass turned into husbands and wives, and then fathers. By the time I was 18 I was already married and on my second pregnancy,” you chuckled sadly. “He almost killed me when I said I was leaving to recruit. The men there, they’re taught to be violent. They’re taught to be animals. They’re taught to hurt women. My only saving grace was the ‘doc’. She was one of the eldest women in the compound. We all thought she was blind and half-dead. But she saved me. When I was about 2 months in, she picked me out of my bed and brought me to the edge of the compound walls. She asked me if I wanted the baby, I said no. She got rid of it. She made it look like a miscarriage.”

They were silent. 

“That’s what we’re up against. Years and years of sexual, physical, and mental abuse. A doctorate that no one believes but the men, and the men have all the power and strength. These women and children need help.”

“H-how many have you gotten out so far?” Penelope asked, tears in her eyes. 

“281,” you nodded. “And there’s still more.”

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ

Aaron walked you up to your room in the hotel. It had been a long day. You had been on speed dial the entire time, explaining everything to the entire team as you worked with your team on making a plan to evacuate all of the women and children. 

“I’m sorry I haven’t been calling back, all of my weekends have kind of turned into… this,” you explained, looking down. “I do genuinely like you Aaron, but I’d understand if what you found out today is too much or-”

“It's not,” he assured you. “Thank you for your insight, and I’m sorry that you have it.”

You nodded, the motion bubbling up in your throat as you thought over the last 24 hours. “I hope we can help them,” you whispered. 

“We will,” he nodded, wrapping his arms around you and holding you close as you cried into his chest. Aaron vowed something to himself right then and there, he’d always be there for you, no matter what. “Come on, let’s get you inside.”

Aaron helped you inside, helped you change into your pyjamas, helped you get ready for bed, and tucked you in, all while whispering words of encouragement. As you lay in bed, utterly exhausted from the emotional toll of the day, you found yourself reaching for Aaron’s hand. 

“Please stay,” you begged, your voice soft and small. 

How could he ever refuse? 

“Of course,” he whispered. Without a moment's pause, the bed dipped beside you, and Aaron opened his arms to accommodate for you. You settled yourself into his arms and pressed a kiss to his clavicle. 

“Thank you for believing me.”

“I’ll always believe you,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head.

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅

criminal minds masterlist :)

navigation for my blog :) (criminal minds, obx, the bear, marvel, top gun, the hunger games :)

[scribs-dibs]

gilded

sunday x reader, established relationship i suppose, ooc sunday perhaps, refs to sunday's trauma and a lot of his unwelcomed thoughts, ummmm it's very short guys idk

wc ; ~700-ish words

this is my (late) submission from the stellaronhvnters sillay halloween event! i used the prompt foliage this time :-)

"doesn't he owe this to you?"

Sunday lived in a gilded cage, and he liked it there.

It was safe in there, sacred, with the bars perfectly, evenly spaced, just enough room for him to see out of, just enough to see what a proper child should not  do,  just enough to see what he should be better than, just enough for him to see what naughty, rowdy children look like.

So when the cool breeze reddens your nose, and your eyes peek at him from over your scarf, and you ask him:

"Sunday, wanna play in the leaves?"

Of course, his careful, calculated answer is:

"I'll pass, thank you."

He doesn't quite understand why your face falls the way it does, but it sends a shiver down his spine. That response was wrong.

But who can blame him, really? His shirt is crisp and clean, and the leaves have crinkled and curled on the ground for ages. They're dirty. Proper, well behaved children stay at Gopher Wood's side, back straight and posture proper, safe inside his gilded cage. He longs for it, sometimes. The safety. The sacredness. The cleanliness.

But this isn't all bad either, he muses. This is as close to safety as ever— your hand is placed securely in his own, your bared flesh against his gloved one, and every so often you make sure to give your joined arms a hardy swing. You've all but shut him out of his office for the day, the sky turning a mellow pink as the sun sinks beneath the clouds. "Autumn" you had called it; Penacony removed the harsh breezes and early darkness from this season, and its reality would be distasteful if not for your unabashed enjoyment of it.

Your favorite part of this time of year, you've told him, is how the leaves change color. Greens disappear into warm gradients, and he supposes he can see the appeal of that.

But that doesn't mean he has to roll in them.

You nudge his shoulder, and he realizes he's spaced off. Uncouth. Pay attention.

"Come on Sunday! Can't we live a little?"

Sunday allows a short, clipped chuckle to escape him. Your face is scrunched lightly, the way it always gets when you want to pout at him uselessly. You refrain from doing that, sure, but Sunday can tell it's only a few minute twitches away from forming such an expression.

"We? I never said you couldn't indulge," Sunday presses a finger against the knit in your brow, ironing out the crease formed there. Such an expression causes wrinkles. "You can go ahead. I'll be here."

You shake your head immediately.

"It's not the same," you sigh, and Sunday knows that tone. It's disappointment, hard and sharp and cold. Though it is faint, a different flavor when encased in your gentler, kinder, form, he can still detect it a mile away. "But it's okay, we can still go to the cafe as planned."

You don't seem disheartened. You've moved on, gracefully, with the ease he both envies and admires from you.

Everything was set out for him in his cage. He had a role to play, and fulfilled it properly. Played all his pieces properly, too, made sure everything set out for him stayed in its proper place. When that all shattered, he was lost. It was your guiding hands that found him and picked up what was left of him. You...loved what was left of him in fact.

Now that he plays the role of "boyfriend," doesn't he owe this to you? Would this simple act be enough to start balancing the scales for the sin of loving him?

"Sunday?" 

Pay attention. Uncouth. Shame on you.

"It's not that big of a deal, okay?" Your own finger rubs at the crease in his brow. Normally, his facade is perfect, practiced. Ease is supposed to be the neutral face for a leader. He let his guard down.

"Look," you point, and overhead the trees shimmer with their reds and oranges and yellows, shining with the little scraps of sunlight that remain, "This is enough, isn't it? We don't have to jump in the piles if you don't want to."

Your hand in his grows tighter, and the reprimands that Sunday has repeated to himself again and again suddenly feel distant.

"Walking with you is more than enough, Sunday."

Sunday had lived in a gilded cage. But he supposes life outside isn't so bad, now.

Sunday takes a deep breath, and walks with you amongst the leaves.

•------------------------•

ty for reading 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️ rbs & comments are appreciated !!

[yuki2sksksk]

KNY HORROR MOVIE AU: GRASPING SHADOWS

Summary:

19-years-old Tomioka Giyuu receives a call from the local police of his old hometown, about his old guardian Urokodaki being arrested as a suspect for the missing children that have been going on for years. Returning back to prove the innocence of Urokodaki, Giyuu discovers a more horrifying truth about the missing children...while also trying to protect two strange kids that claim there is a 'monster' with many arms living in the mountain.

Storyline:

• When Giyuu was 13-years-old, his best friend Sabito suddenly went missing one day on a Summer night. The only thing that was left of him was a piece of fabric from his haori.

• Giyuu enters a university away from his hometown, only to receive the news about his guardian Urokodaki being arrested as the primary suspect of the missing kids in the hometown.

• While Urokodaki is being interrogated by the police, he manages to ask Giyuu to take care of two children that seek protection under his care; Tanjirou and Nezuko.

• Wanting to find a way to prove Urokodaki's innocence, Giyuu starts an investigation of his own about the missing kids.

• Along with the Kamado siblings, the three of them find clues that lead them towards the mountains that always have wisteria trees blooming around the base.

• Memories and the trauma of the past start to mess with Giyuu, rendering him to an emotional mess that he starts to see ghosts of Sabito

• Tanjirou and Nezuko can see the ghosts of the missing children, making friends with Sabito and Makomo along the way. Thanks to the children, they finally managed to find the roots of all the missing cases.

• The demon with many arms makes himself known, chortling as he begins to hunt the three humans through the mountain the dark of the night

• It turns out many of the missing children were orphans and helped by Urokodaki, who always gifted them with fox masks. Urokodaki had met the demon in his youth and trapped it in the mountain with the wisteria to cage him. Thirsty for revenge, the demon managed to lure every kids Urokodaki had saved and ate them. Sabito and Makomo were amongst the unfortunate ones.

• Giyuu tries to fight the demon off with the swordsmanship skills he learnt from Urokodaki, but since he stopped training after Sabito's death, he is easily defeated by the demon.

• His main defeat is mainly caused by the demon's taunting of Sabito's death, like how he ripped off the boy's head before eating him. Blinded with rage, Giyuu strikes the demon but then gets struck off his feet and injured.

• With the momentary distraction between the demon and Giyuu, Tanjirou managed to kill the demon with an axe by slicing the demon's head.

• The demon crumbles away in his death, turning into ashes. The fox masks belonging to the missing children were found in a cave at the feet of the mountain.

• Giyuu finds Sabito's mask and holds it close to his heart, finally finding the closure.

• With no supporting evidence, the police let Urokodaki go out of their custody. Urokodaki is told what happened and breaks down in tears.

• Graves for the kids are built, with each of their masks placed on every one. Giyuu places Sabito's mask on a grave as a sense of letting the past go while Tanjirou and Nezuko place Makomo's mask on her spot.

• The Kamado siblings are adopted by Urokodaki and Giyuu promises to take them to the city on holidays if he can as he prepares to return to university.

• As he leaves, the ghosts of the missing children are seen at the mountain. One by one, they turn and disappear into the mist, with Sabito and Makomo being the last ones as they mouthed the words "Thank you" to Giyuu and the Kamado siblings.

[scaredpigeons]

A debt, recurrent.

A sequel to A debt, repaid.

BSD Ogai Mori x fem!reader

NSFW 18+ MDNI

Authors Note: I had previously skirted around the idea of writing something that directly involved Elise, just because her existence is like— one of the major icky points of this character, but I had a request to do like a nanny!reader x mori, and I was like “how can I do this in cannon universe while making it make sense while also making sure it isn’t gross.” And this is what popped out. In this story, it is implied in this that Mori does not actively use Elise in any sexual activities, even though I have no idea if that’s been confirmed or denied in the manga/show. I just prefer the thought that he hasn’t. Makes me sleep better at night. That being said, I still don’t condone any actions associated with this character/the entire Lolita-loving trope, but being able to interact with things that have caused me trauma in the past in a Safe space makes me very horny happy. and I am so uncomfortably horny for this old man.

Word count: 5k

Synopsis: Mori needs to go to a meeting, and needs someone trustworthy to watch Elise. She chose you, much to your displeasure, and you spend the evening catering to her every whim. Mori returns home to find you in a vulnerable state, and who is he to refuse such a gift?

PLEASE READ WARNINGS BEFORE READING! DARK CONTENT WARNING! READ RESPONSIBLY!

CW: technically non-con somnophilia.(sexual actions while one party is asleep) Reader is into it, even though she tries to deny the fact that she is at first. Mori has very dark and possessive thoughts towards reader, reader doesn’t wake up until Mori is actively (p in v) fucking her. Touching, oral (fem receiving) fingering, very little vaginal prep, creampie, dirty talk. Mild aftercare, though it’s implied that he’s not actually done. ELISE IS NOT INVOLVED IN ANY NSFW CONTEXT, AND IS ACTIVELY TAKEN AWAY AND TUCKED INTO HER OWN BED BEFORE MORI DOES ANYTHING TO READER

You flinched at the sound of the door to the lounge swinging open, and very light footsteps accompanied by heavier, slower ones. 

You were just trying to have lunch with your coworkers, and you certainly weren’t expecting to interact with the boss today, or his… ability.

”hmm…” the little girl seemed to tap her foot in thought, and you kept your head down, though if you looked up and to the side, you could see her shoes in the corner of your vision. You could see his shoes too, standing directly behind her. 

“I want to play with… that one!” She said with a demanding tone that really grated your nerves. It’s not that you disliked children, you just despised spoiled brats, and Elise was notorious for being just so, which was exactly what Mori wanted from her, the sick bastard.

”Are you sure, my dear? That one has a bit of an attitude, I don’t know if she’d make the best playmate for you tonight.” 

Your heart sank into your stomach. There were only two women in the lounge today, yourself and another young recruit who was well known for keeping her nose down and following orders without question. 

Is it too late to throw yourself out a window? You're only on the fourth floor, it should be fine, right? 

“I said I want that one!” The girl, if you can even call her that, stomped her foot with furious impatience. “Did you not tell me I could have whatever I wanted today, Rintaro?” 

The boss of the port mafia sighed, the smile reading through his voice— you could hear it in his tone, though you refused to look up, still staring blankly at your sandwich as if you could disappear into it if you tried hard enough. 

“Yes, that I did, my darling.”

Mori called your name, making everyone in the lounge snap their gaze to you. 

If you weren’t so pissed off, you might’ve felt your cheeks heating up. 

You stood, setting your sandwich to the side as you made your way to stand in front of your boss, back straight and eyes forward. 

“Yes, boss.” 

“Come with me, I have an assignment for you today.” 

The entire walk to his office was silent, save for Elise whining about not wanting to see another tailor for another year. The girl seemed adamant about having enough dresses to last the rest of Mori’s life, and even threatened to cut that life short if he pushed her any further. 

Could she even do that? Could an ability kill its user? You almost hoped she would actually try it. 

When inside Mori’s office, he sat, gesturing for you to take the seat in front of his desk—which was strange, as most of the time his underlings would just stand to receive their orders. 

Elise just wandered off, sitting in the corner with her pencils and paper. 

“I’m going to be out for the rest of the day, well into the evening, and I need you to entertain Elise for me while I’m gone.” 

You knew this was coming, but it still felt like a lead brick was sitting in your stomach. 

“Why can’t you take her with you?” You hissed. 

“I’m going to neutral ground for a very important meeting, where the usage of abilities will be prohibited.” Mori rested his head on his folded hands, his dark eyes flickering between yours, face unreadable. 

“Then why can’t you just send her away?” You said, eyes flitting to the side as you kept your voice low, not wanting her to throw a fit because you were talking shit. “Just… release the ability, or whatever?” 

Mori smiled, his head tilting to the side. He reminded you of a venomous snake. Beautiful to look at, dangerous to let close. 

“It takes a lot of energy to reform her once she’s gone, you know. I have to be at peak condition in case of emergencies. Why else do you think I keep her around, give her a room on my floor of the building, and take her with me wherever I go?” 

Because you’re a fucking pervert. 

“Because you’re sick in the head, Rintaro!” Elise voiced your thoughts aloud, chucking a crayon across the room that smacked your boss directly in the side of his head with an audible thwack. 

Huh. Maybe the kid wasn’t so bad after all. 

He merely smiled, as if he was as happy as he could possibly be. 

“So you see, I need someone to watch over her, someone trustworthy, and entertaining.” He said, looking at you from beneath his long lashes. “And she just so happened to choose you.” 

“You think I know how to keep a kid occupied? I’m probably the least entertaining person on the fucking planet.” You hissed, white knuckling the arms of the chair. 

“I don't know,” he said, voice low and teasing. “I find you very entertaining.”

You certainly felt your face warm that time, and you couldn’t necessarily blame it on anger. You were pissed, sure, but it couldn’t be that hard, could it? 

“Fine.” You said, crossing your arms across your chest. “But you owe me.” 

He raises a sleek brow at you, as if surprised by your words. 

“I owe you?” He said, voice light and airy. Deceptive, poised. Ready to strike. “What makes you say that? Am I not your employer? Do you not take your orders from me, from those above you in rank, little one?” 

“Babysitting isn’t in my fuckin’ job description, asshole.” You hissed, somehow not afraid of the consequences. “So you owe me one.” 

What, do you think he’ll give you special treatment because you let him fuck you? 

Surprisingly, that almost seemed to be the case, as he merely relaxed back into his chair and smiled, his tired eyes roaming your body without a care in the world, as if you weren’t paying attention. 

“Very well. If I’m satisfied with Elises care, I’ll owe you one.” He said. 

Suddenly, his eyes turned very dark, his smile a tad more menacing. A snake in the grass, showing its colors. 

“However, if she is displeased with your performance, I’ll have to implement some kind of corrective action, yes?” 

You glanced off to the side, looking at where Elise was sat, scribbling on the paper in front of her like it wronged her somehow. 

“Deal.” You said. 

How hard can it be?

————————————

Mori must've said something to the staff on his level, because once he left, Elise dragged you to a floor of the base that you’d only ever been to once before, and all the guards simply ignored your presence entirely. 

They opened doors for you and the girl, closing them behind you, but otherwise there was no acknowledgment that you might’ve been somewhere you weren’t supposed to be. Completely unlike the last time you snuck in here, having to wait until the guards were switching shifts to sneak in unnoticed. 

Elise was bratty, demanding, borderline unbearable. But you squared your shoulders and muscled through, just like you would any other job. 

After dragging you around aimlessly for what felt like hours— she wanted a tea party, but you had to follow the dress code to enter, as per her rules. Which means you had to drag her all the way down to your apartment so you could bring that stupid fucking dress you’d bought upstairs, changing into it in one of the many bathrooms lining the halls. 

Elise seemed satisfied though, and spent time putting little clips and bows in your hair, lining your wrists with bracelets and your neck with a couple little necklaces. 

She requested sweets, and real tea, though you weren’t entirely sure if you brewed it properly, but she didn’t complain, only sipped it from her pink tea set and poured her gigantic teddy bear another cup. 

“Do you really have to keep up the act even when he’s gone?” You asked, though you kept your voice small, as not to offend her. 

“I am what he desires me to be.” She simply said, eyes closed, prim and proper as she sipped her tea, like a little girl pretending to be a princess. 

“Were you always like this?” You asked, cringing a little. 

“No.” She said, huffing. “People change, but Rintaro’s always had a few screws loose, so it only makes sense.” Hearing her speak such words in such a tiny little voice almost made you giggle. 

”I suppose he’s lucky he has you, or he’d probably be in prison.” You rolled your eyes, then realized what you said, finally laughing a bit. “You know, for things besides being the boss of the port mafia.”

To your surprise, she let out a snort, sitting down her teacup as she giggled a bit. 

“I’d like to see him locked up.” She said, “He wouldn’t last a day in there without me!” 

That made you snort too, picturing your boss without all the luxuries of his rank was certainly amusing. 

Your sick curiosity got the better of you, and you weren’t sure if she would answer, but you really wanted a reason to hate Mori, to get over the strange, twisted feelings that had been brewing in the pit of your stomach, so you tried to ask anyway. 

“Has he ever…” 

Her eyes thinned, and it didn’t look entirely like anger, but she certainly wasn’t giggling anymore. 

“If your ability conjured the perfect knife to cut up strawberries for cake, would you turn around and try to use it to brush your hair?” She asked.

Your brow furrowed, trying to wrap your head around what she was saying. 

She rolled her eyes, scoffing at your confusion. “I am a weapon. Whatever form I take is irrelevant to my use. You would want your knife to suit your own personal ideals, would you not?” 

She didn’t outright answer the question, but you think you get the point. Considering your strange and mixed feelings towards your boss, it's probably best if the answer to that question remains an inferred ‘no.’ 

Such complex thoughts coming from such a tiny looking girl kind of made you laugh again though. 

“Enough talking!” She suddenly stood up, stomping her foot. “I want to watch a movie!” 

It turns out, she didn't want to watch a movie in her own room, or the living room, but instead demanded that you watch the movie with her in Mori’s room, which apparently had the “big big TV.” 

The sun was setting, and you were exhausted from following her every whim all afternoon and evening, so instead of getting flustered and trying to convince her the living room was a better idea, you just gave up, stripping off that stupid dress and chunky jewelry and crawling into the bed with her in your shorts and undershirt. 

You felt embarrassed crawling into his bed after what you’d done here weeks ago, but the sheets were different, and the blankets smelled fresh, so you could delude yourself into thinking it was an entirely different bed. 

She picked Spirited Away, saying she liked the ‘no face guy’, and how hungry he was. She giggled and said that the parents deserved to get turned into gross pigs for being so stupid in the first place, and that might’ve disturbed you if you weren’t so tired. 

The last thing you remember is the feeling of Elises head falling on your shoulder, and wondering what you did to get on her good side. She’s a nightmare. She actively terrorizes the other members of the Port mafia just for her own amusement, and she’s just falling asleep on your shoulder? Do abilities even need sleep? But sure enough, her breathing was even, and her eyes were closed. 

You smiled, realizing you can’t have done too shitty of a job if she was so relaxed. 

———————————

When Mori peeks his head into Elise’s room and doesn’t see her sleeping form in her frilly pink bed, he worries a little. 

Not much, maybe mostly for you, in fear that she’d have you strung upside down and dangling from the roof somewhere in some midnight game to amuse her, but he’d told her to behave, so he hoped all was well. 

Mori thought that perhaps he should get out of this ridiculous suit and change before he goes looking for Elise, that meeting had been far too stifling, so he at least needs to hang up his jackets and get more comfortable before he can go on any longer. 

When he steps into his room, the first thing he notices is that his TV is on, its large screen illuminated with the ending credits of some cartoon, and then he looks into his bed, and his heart stops. 

Elise is cuddled up right next to you, snuggled in with your arm wrapping comfortably around her little waist as you both sleep peacefully beneath his luxurious blankets. 

The soft part of him wants to coo and take pictures to torment Elise with later. Another darker, more urgent part of him is eyeing you, your tiny, tiny shirt riding up your waist, your hair sprawled out on his pillows, a few stray bow clips still caught within, your arm around such a treasured piece of him— like you valued it just as much as he did. 

He eyes that frilly little number you wore for him those few weeks prior, just sprawled out, lying on his floor; and surmises that Elise must have demanded some kind of dress up game, the little tease. She probably did it just to annoy you, not thinking you’d actually have something to suit her criteria. 

He rounds to the side of the bed that Elise is on, carefully and slowly prying her from your hold. He very gently takes her down the halls to her own room, tucking her into bed. Any other night, he might have stayed, maybe woken her up to talk with her about her day, tease her a little about how good she must’ve been today, but he had far more pressing things to focus on, like the little one he’d left still sleeping away in his bed. 

After all, if you’d done a good enough job that Elise fell asleep comfortably in your arms, then he owed you one, didn’t he? 

Keeping his steps light, he made his way back to his bedroom, standing at the side of the bed to observe you once more. 

Your brow was soft, face passive and serene, so unlike your waking moments where all you seemed to do was stare ahead with that tortured look on your face— like you hated everything and everyone around you. 

How he craved to see you lost in yourself again, falling apart at his touch and untroubled by the burdens of your life. Having that kind of power over you sends his mind reeling, and ever since that last evening in this very room— his fingertips twitched at the mere mention of your name. 

The crushing desire to claim, to take and mold you into a perfect little doll, just for him— it was overwhelming.

But he resisted.

After all, it was that fiery spark that drew him to you in the first place. If he were to break you of it completely, that would ruin the entire appeal. 

Perhaps just in these private moments then, he’ll train you to let go slowly, but give you enough leash that you may still keep that delicious fight in you.

He saw the way your eyes trailed over him whenever he was in your presence, no doubt remembering the way he pulled you apart and pieced you back together over and over again that night. He knew you hadn’t been going to any of your little friends anymore, your evenings spent alone in your apartment, or so his people tell him. You still wanted him, that much was evident. 

So surely you wouldn’t mind if he helped himself? You seemed to be begging for it, placing yourself so sweetly on this silver platter of silk sheets, sweet and ripe for his taking. 

He removed his jackets and scarf, setting them on the desk chair before unbuttoning his dress shirt and crawling slowly into the bed behind you. 

You stirred slightly, making him pause, but you simply rolled onto your back, hand twitching against his pillow. 

“Heavy sleeper?” He whispered, a grin spreading like a wildfire in a dry field. “Or did my little darling just tire you out?” 

He lay on his side, still observing you like a hawk, watching for any change of breath or movements that may indicate your return to consciousness. 

He allowed himself to indulge a bit, dragging a fingertip up the soft skin of your stomach, raising your little shirt even further until it was tucked underneath your perfect breasts. He swirled the pad of his index finger along the center of your torso, watching the goosebumps raise as he circled around your navel softly. 

He dipped lower, toying with the hemline of those itty bitty shorts you were wearing, the spandex clinging to your form deliciously. 

He pushed the blankets down just a bit further, below your knees, not wanting the change in temperature to startle you awake if he removed it completely. 

He watched your eyebrows twitch ever so slightly as he ran his fingertips along your covered core, just a tease of a touch, simply for his own amusement. 

Then he pressed a bit harder, enjoying the little groan you let out. 

“Even in your sleep, you’re still so responsive.” He whispered, licking his lips. 

He brought his hand up to toy with the hemline of those shorts again, watching your stomach dip at the touch of his fingers slipping beneath. 

“I wonder if you’ll let me slip these off, hmm?” 

He slowly rose to kneel beside you, hooking his fingers into the sides of the spandex, shimmying them down slightly to gauge your reaction. 

You were as still as stone, breaths even and eyes closed, save the occasional twitch of your fingers. 

“So good for me,” he mused. 

He continued sliding them down your thighs, exposing you fully as he realized— much to his satisfaction— that you wore no panties underneath. 

He grinned at the slight glisten to your folds, stopping the pull of your shorts right above your knees to admire the sight for a moment. 

Still, you slept, completely unaware and unbothered. He slipped your legs free from the blankets, fairly certain that he could be a little less cautious than before, and pulled your shorts off completely. 

He sat your legs back down, a little more spread than before, and kneeled between them to admire you closer. He ran his hands up your delicious thighs, loving the way your skin prickled as he went. 

He saw the way your nipples perked beneath your shirt, smirking to himself as he pushed the little scrap of fabric further up your chest, exposing your breasts to him completely. 

“A little cold, are we darling?” He whispered, running a finger along one pert nipple. 

As much as he desired to toy with your breasts a bit further, he did not know how long this glorious window of uninterrupted play would last, and wanted to enjoy himself to the fullest while he was able. 

Pushing your thighs to spread completely for him, he laid down on his stomach to watch up close as he spread your folds, using his thumbs to pull you apart and gaze at the glistening treasure you kept so guarded from him. 

He gingerly lapped a firm strike from bottom to top, eyes watching your face for any changes as he savored your taste. 

“You taste just as delectable as I remember, little one.” He whispered against your clit, flicking it with the tip of his tongue and enjoying the sleepy little whines that poured from your throat, still lost in the throes of slumber. 

He indulged himself further, licking and suckling along your core and pressing his tongue shallowly into your little hole until you were absolutely dripping for him, his cock twitching at the way you whined softly in your sleep. 

He removed his gloves and tossed them aside, gingerly easing an index finger into your waiting hole, your juices easing the slide. 

In your sleep, you were so soft, so pliant. Your walls gave a little clench at the intrusion, but he was very amused at how unrestrained you were. He added a second finger, marveling at how easily they slid in, your walls so accommodating, so plush. 

“You know, darling,” he whispered, pulling back to kneel up and work his belt open, uncaring of the wetness along his fingers. “Like this, I don’t even think I need to work you open for me.” 

Unbuttoning his pants, he finally pulled his aching cock free of its confines, having been neglected from the very beginning in favor of the mental satisfaction of such activities. 

“I think you could take me just like this,” he said, stroking himself as he watched your chest rise and fall, unfettered, head resting beautifully on his pillows. 

He pulled a spare pillow from the opposite side of the bed, gently pulling up your lower half to place it under your ass, hoisting you up to a proper height. 

You squirmed, mumbled a bit as your eyes rolled beneath their lids, your hands twitching and thighs shifting. 

He paused for a moment, almost worried you’d wake before he got to the best part, but it really didn’t matter when you woke up, you’d be taking his cock so sweetly for him either way.

After you settled back down, he thumbed over your clit once more, enjoying the way your sex clenched and glistened for him. Stroking himself a moment longer, he finally gave in and leaned forward, rubbing the head of his cock along your folds, reveling in the way your wetness coated him. 

With one hand supporting himself in the bed beside your waist, and the other guiding his cock, he finally, finally pushed against your entrance, groaning at the warmth parting so deliciously for him, wrapping him in your hot and pliant embrace. 

He was right, your walls graciously sucked him in, still snug, but the lack of preparation didn’t seem to matter. As he pushed further into your welcoming softness, he shifted, placing his hands beside your head to lean down and press open mouth kisses along your neck, sucking marks in plain sight, where everyone could see. 

He wanted to own you. He technically did— given his rank compared to yours, but he wanted more. He wanted to consume you entirely. 

He didn’t care anymore, in fact, he wanted you to wake now, to wake to the feeling of him inside you, fucking into you like you were his to do with as he pleased. 

With a rough snap of his hips and a nibble beneath your ear, he finally pushed in fully, his hips slapping against yours. 

You gasped, eyes finally popping open as your head rose from the pillow, a rough moan ripping from your throat as he started a rough and steady pace. 

“There she is,” he groaned in your ear. “How nice of you to finally join us.” 

Your walls clenched tight around him, your eyes wide as you pressed against his shoulders in a half hearted attempt to push him away. 

“B-boss?!” You stuttered, your brow furrowing in confusion, in worry. “What are you— Mori!” 

You moaned as he grabbed your thighs, pressing them into your chest as he threw your calves over his shoulders. The motion left your little white socked feet dangling uselessly behind his head as he brutally angled each thrust against your g-spot. 

Your hands moved to grip at the loose shirt hanging by his collarbones, fingernails digging in but not hitting his pale skin. He almost wanted to shift positions to remove his shirt, maybe let you rake those blunt nails down his back so he too could wear marks of this moment. 

But the way your eyes rolled back and you pushed your head to the side was too good, it was like you were trying to hide from him, hide how much you loved this. 

“Where are you trying to run, little darling?” He breathed, a wicked smile ghosting along your cheek as you flinched, biting back moans that made your lips bruise. 

“I… why are you—“ you couldn’t form proper words, let alone a sentence, and he shuddered at how far gone you already were, your mind still blurry from your slumber, body reacting to him so beautifully. 

“You were so pretty in my bed, laid out for me like a little treat.” He bit at the sensitive flesh of your throat, groaning when you squeezed around him. “I simply am just taking a bite of what’s mine.” 

You cried out at that, squirming under him as he felt your walls twitch and tremble, your slick forming a ring around the base of his cock, the filthy, slick sounds making his head spin. 

“That’s what you are, isn’t it?” He said, bringing a hand to your face to force you to look up at him, your big doe eyes wide and wet with unshed tears. “That's what you desire to be? Mine?” 

You bit your lip, and he could feel you tense, trying to stave off your orgasm, as if he would ever not succeed in making you cum. 

“Say it,” he hissed, thumbing your bottom lip from between your teeth. “Tell me what you are, hmm?” 

His hips continued to slam into you, and he could feel himself nearing his own limit, but he knew you were right there— right at the precipice. 

You were so stubborn, and oh how he loved that about you. How he throbbed when you shook your head, refusing to speak even though you clung so tightly to him, even though he could feel your walls pulsing with the need to release. 

“Tell me.” He nearly growled, his pace never faltering despite the burn of his own orgasm being held back. “Who do you belong to?” 

You looked like you were going to deny him once more, but he saw that sparkle of need in your eyes, so he wrapped his hand around your throat, applying delicious pressure at the sides, restricting the blood flow to your pretty little head. 

He was reminded of how small you were like this. How easy it would be to snap your little neck if you were an adversary. Instead he was delighted when your eyes rolled back once more as he growled down at you. 

“Who do you belong to?” 

He released his hold, and you gasped as your walls fluttered, your release crashing into you like a train, moaning and babbling up at him in your pleasure. 

“Mori! I’m yours! I’m yours— I wanna be yours, I wanna belong to you—!” 

He groaned, letting himself go as you continued your babbling, feeling his cock twitch against your still fluttering walls, the pressure of you squeezing him so tightly was almost unbearable. 

“That’s it,” he moaned. “Mine, all mine.” 

He felt himself tip over the edge and leaned down to bite at your throat again. 

“Now take what I give you, take it all.” 

You cried out as he spilled into you, his hips finally stuttering with each pulse of his hot cum into your cunt. You gripped him tightly, keening as he panted in your ear. 

When he was finally done, you fell back, arms spread wide as you stared lazily up at the ceiling. 

“Did you enjoy your evening?” He grinned, pulling his softening cock from your leaking core, enjoying the way a little dollop of his cum oozed at your entrance. 

“You’re a fucking asshole.” You groaned, throwing an arm over your face. 

He tucked himself back into his pants as he chuckled. 

“After all that you still have the energy to be so acrimonious?” He teased, getting up to retrieve a cloth from the en suite. 

“You’d be pissed off too if someone woke you up by shoving their cock in you!” You shouted from your place on the bed, clearly spoiled rotten from the last time he fucked you, knowing full well that he intends to clean you up before letting you sleep. 

He rolled his eyes to the side as he made his way back to you, waving his hand dismissively to tease you. “I wouldn’t be pissed, per se. Perhaps a bit startled, maybe murderous, maybe indulgent. Depends on how nice the cock is.” 

He grinned as he watched you get flustered, tugging your shirt down and crossing your arms over your chest. 

“Salacious, depraved, idiot old man.” You grumbled, and he laughed. 

“Are you saying you didn’t enjoy yourself, little one?” he leaned down to wipe the sweat and juices between your thighs, and watched with keen eyes as you relaxed, letting his cum pool out of you and onto the waiting cloth. 

His spent cock twitched in interest, and he flashed his eyes back to your face, gauging your reactions. 

You were red, still indignantly looking at the ceiling as he cleaned you up. 

“I’m not saying that, don’t put words in my mouth.” You said, pouting like a spoiled rotten child.

Oh, how he enjoyed you. He was going to soak in every second of your time. He wouldn’t let you run away again and pretend like this wasn’t happening, like you didn’t want him. No, you were stuck this time. 

His cock swelled again, watching you grumble and pout. 

“You’re right, darling.” He said, pulling away to undo his pants once more, reveling in the way you chewed on your swollen lips, your thighs clenching together. “I have better things I can put in your mouth.” 

—————————————————

[neversetyoufree]

The way Noé Archiviste is written is so good. I'm so obsessed with him.

He's such a protagonist—endlessly hopeful against adversity and filled with kindness and attempted understanding toward everyone he meets. He's a good person! He wants to save everyone! He is genuinely and utterly without any sort of cruelty or unfair bias.

Yet, the more the series goes on, the more he's written as a very obvious parallel to our antagonists.

The most blatant example of this is the Ruthven parallel. Ruthven once happily said that he liked vampires, and in the same way, he liked humans. Noé repeats this exact same line when he has tea with Ruthven.

This parallel doesn't reflect too poorly on Noé, since it's pretty clear that something Happened to Ruthven to change him between his speaking that line and him becoming our antagonist, but it is an interesting way to tie the two of them together. It raises certain questions in readers' minds. In what other ways are Noé and Ruthven still similar, and how might Noé change to become more like him?

Then there's Noé's toxic optimism. The "you should be a little bothered, actually" aspect of him. Noé is the mirror to Vanitas's toxic pessimism. He latches onto the good in the world to a fault, and in this way he detaches from reality and endures an endless series of abuses to his person without even understanding they're abuses.

That is also one of the defining traits of Mikhail. Misha is unsettling in part because he is completely detached from any understanding of severity. Misha happily recounts being abused and watching his mother die not because he's cruel or hateful, but because he doesn't understand what's happened to him or why those things are bad. Misha wants to bring Luna back to life because he's in denial of the reality of their death. He believes he can just resurrect them and everything will be fine, and he'll get to play happy family again.

If Noé went just a little bit more extreme with the over-optimism, he could disconnect from reality just as badly as Misha has.

Finally there's my favorite parallel—the tie between Noé and his Teacher. Noé Archiviste has a tendency to watch others in fascination, trying to figure them out from the sidelines while he fails to understand his own impact on them, and he absolutely loves the Blue Moon. He thinks the Blue Moon is beautiful. Teacher spends his time collecting interestingly damaged children in putting them in awful situations, apparently just for the fun of watching what they'll do next, and he calls The Vampire of the Blue Moon "the most beautiful creature in the world."

Noé's curiosity-driven fascination with Vanitas's trauma and his love of the blue moon—neither of these are necessarily a problem on their own, but when written in direct parallel with The Count of Saint Germain, they become somewhat alarming.

In the same way that Misha is "worse" than Noé because his obliviousness to his trauma leads him to harm others, Noé's teacher is surely a worse person than him because he lets himself harm others in pursuit of his interests. Noé doesn't do that. But what would it take for that to change? He's pushed boundaries before. He learned to hurt Astolfo and Misha in the name of protecting those he cares about. What other strange places could his headstrong nature lead?

What might Noé do when his fascination and his obliviousness intersect? When the parts of him that are Teacher and the parts of him that are Misha overlap? What would he do to see Vanitas again? What might he do without letting himself realize how terrible it was?

Noé is a good person. He's one of the best people. But in his attentiveness and his optimism and his love, there's the seeds of something that could lead him down a very dark road. Each of the above antagonists is a little bit a part of who he is.

Misha wants to bring Luna back to life. Ruthven is working toward some mysterious aim with the dead or dying Faustina. And given how he talks in mémoire 55, I wouldn't be surprised if Teacher also had an interest in bringing back The Vampire of the Blue moon in one form or another.

In all his fascination and love and hope, would/will Noé be able to let Vanitas die when death is preferable to the alternative? This is a story about the inevitability of death, and the denial of that inevitability creates nothing but horror and perversion. Noé is growing and learning to understand both Vanitas and the moral complexities of the world, and we can only hope that he learns enough. We can see through his many reflections in other characters what he might become if he can't accept painful reality.

[sevilynne]

I don't get how people still hate Severus when Harry was the one who apparently experienced "trauma" from him, and Harry is Severus's #1 biggest defender now.

"Snape bullied kids!"

And Minerva (And other professors) did too but you completely ignore them and focus on your prejudices with Severus. The fact that Severus threatened Neville into poisoning his toad and Minerva literally locked out a child from the Gryffindor common room when apparently there's a mass murderer inside of Hogwarts shows a huge difference. You justify Minerva's actions because you either like her or you don't hate her as much as you do with Severus.

Severus says Hermione is a know-it-all and Minerva degraded (and publicly humiliated) Neville saying that he'll never be able to transfigure a teapot.

Then here we have Hagrid disfiguring a child and insults his appearance because he hates his dad.

And the difference is, Severus would never disfigure a kid.

Madam Pince literally hexed Ginny and Harry's things. Mcgonagall sent four children into the forbidden forest with HAGRID, she knew what she was doing when she sent them with Hagrid. If Neville did that? He would serve detention with her.

She bent the "First Years aren’t allowed their own Broomsticks" for HARRY. That's favouritism and that's all because Slytherin was dominating the House Cup. Would Severus bend the "First Years aren’t allowed their own Broomsticks" for Draco just because he wants a medal sticking in his office? No.

Minerva let Severus bully the Golden Trio (Primarily Harry) through Years 1-6, why did she let that happen? Why didn't she tell her colleague off? Well, that would be hypocritical considering she also does that.

In Year 7, she allows DEs to torture students.

She was mad at Fake Professor Moody because he transfigured a student and not the fact that he was repeatedly banged a students head on the ground.

Minerva is just as bad as Severus, she gave them harsh punishments but you guys look in deep in Harry's biased point of view that you guys think Minerva is just strict and Severus bullied children.

And if Minerva was just "strict" to Harry, imagine what she did with other students? She practically bullied them.

Haha... But no. We should just look at Severus because he's the bad guy and not because the wizarding world's punishments are completely different from real life / muggle views. These type of stuff are normal (and controversial) in the wizarding world. SEVERUS WASN'T THE ONLY PERSON TO DO THIS.

Everyone did this as a professor, it's normal in the wizarding world. This is not to justify Severus's actions, but if you hate Severus and like other professors... Then you're a hypocritical person.

"Severus became a DE!"

He was in Slytherin, he was influenced by the Pure-Blood obsession that people in his house had. He simply became a DE because he was a curious child who wanted to learn about the dark arts.

Did Severus torture or kill people like death eaters like Barty and Bellatrix did? Haha...

To put my last post about this in summary:

Severus was neglected by his parents (And heavily implied that he was also abused), gets bullied by two boys resulting in 4v1 (This was because he wanted to go to Slytherin. He sneered back and James & Sirius wanted to bully Severus because they were two spoilt brats who cannot let "Snivellus" sneer back since they'll never get used to someone sneering at them [Since they always get away with it] They come from two rich pure-blood families, what did you expect?), almost gets killed and Remus nor Sirius gets any consequences about it, his life is worth a detention to Dumbledore. James flexes to Lily that he saved Severus's life (With a modified version of the prank since she'll know about Sirius were primarily involved in a negative way and it's his best friend right?) and Lily, his apparent best friend, BELIEVES HIS BULLY OVER HIM. This is what you call the only positive thing in his life? If this is what you call the only positive thing in his life, then his life is fucked up. Lily holding her smile and blushing while James does horrible things to her best friend, gets surprised and furious when Severus calls her a mudblood, then his private part being showed to the whole school.

I would be heavily embarrassed if I were Severus, no, I would honestly cry and drop out.

Severus got manipulated and heavily influenced by rich, pure-blooded Slytherins because he was given the respect that he never got in his life, he was influenced to have prejudiced thoughts when he never had those thoughts when Lily got her letter, infact, he comforted her. That says A LOT about this. Severus was invited into that DE cult because he wanted more of that respect—more of that power—more of the fame. He just wanted to feel respected. Because that was what he was not given at Hogwarts.

"Snape deserved the bullying, he bullied the Marauders in the train. / Someone had to do it."

Who threw the first direct insult? Sirius. Who threw the first indirect insult? James. What did Severus do? Sneer back. Did he deserve those years of bullying? No.

You literally take references from ATYD and other #severussnapeslander Wolfstar, Jily, Rosekiller, and Jegulus fics from AO3. Don't act like Sirius and James aren't worse.

When did he deserve to almost die? When did he deserve to get bullied every single day? When did he deserve to get sexually harassed?

How would you feel if it was you?

How would you feel if the people who bullied you were painted as heroes?

People who sexually assaulted and almost killed you?

The lack of empathy from Mstans just prove that they are vicious bullies bullying an eleven year old and calling the kid derogatory names doesn't make you less of an evil person as Severus is.

At least have the respect to call him by his last name.

"James and Draco aren't similar! James is better than Draco."

James literally sounds like the worst version of Draco Malfoy.

┌── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──┐

"Imagine being in Hufflepuff, I think I'd leave, wouldn't you?" - Draco Malfoy, Philosopher's Stone.

"Who wants to be in Slytherin? I think I'd leave, wouldn't you?" - James Potter, Deathly Hallows.

- Laughs at a muggle woman getting SA'd in Quidditch world cup, finds it funny, and makes a joke of Hermione getting SA'd. -

“Granger, they’re after Muggles,” said Malfoy. “D’you want to be showing off your knickers in midair? Because if you do, hang around . . . they’re moving this way, and it would give us all a laugh.”

- Sexually assaults Severus and finds it funny, uses it to impress Lily. -

There was another flash of light, and Snape was once again hanging upside-down in the air.

'Who wants to see me take off Snivelly's pants?'

— Both are rich purebloods —

- Draco saves Harry to make sure his family doesn't get in trouble -

"There's something there," he whispered. "it could be the scar, stretched tight.... Draco, come here, look properly! What do you think?"

Harry saw Draco's face up close now, right beside his father's.

"I don't know," he said, and he walked away toward the fireplace where his mother stood watching.

- James saves Severus to make sure his friends doesn't get in trouble -

└── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──┘

We aren't even talking about James and Draco being bullies who have no empathy for their victims, sure, James isn't just one-dimensional and Draco is morally grey, but James was just caring around his friends, other than that? Not so much. He was stuck with his friendgroup being sycophants (Sirius because James loved him as a brother, Remus who didn't want to speak up about the bullying because James and Sirius picked him up even if he was a poor half-blood, and Peter who wants to fit in.) Draco was stuck with Slytherins being sycophants because he was a rich, high status pure-blood with friends he made as slaves.

Both were spoiled, arrogant, attention-hungry, and self-entitled, traits common among children of their background. Draco would bully the kind of people James befriended, while James would bully the kind of people Draco associated with.

"Snivellus—"

If you're fine with calling Severus a derogatory name, you must be fine calling Luna "Loony" as well.

"Severus called Lily a mudblood."

Severus was a mudblood as well, you wouldn't care if people–of–colour use the N-word on others but you care if Severus does?

Severus also said that in the heat of moment, his best friend did literally NOTHING for the minutes of time he was getting assaulted and she was a prefect.

He said that for masculinity.

Lily didn't do anything for the period of while he was getting assaulted, instead, she held her smile.

Severus would've casted an unforgivable to James or Sirius or anyone who would've done that to Lily, but Lily did the opposite.

Instead, she stood there, blushing.

Severus apologized to her numerous of times, probably not even knowing what his best friend did.

Not justifiable, but still a very good argument.

"Lily was a good friend."

You call LILY a good friend? The one who would believe her best friend's bully over her best friend? The one who would laugh and blush while her best friend gets physically assaulted? The one who watched her best friend get assaulted AND she was a prefect.

Lily was NOT a good friend, she was a terrible one. I also will always held on that Lily secretly waited for the Mudblood incident to drop Severus off, you know, since Severus was a weirdo.

“They don’t use Dark Magic, though.” She dropped her voice. “And you’re being really ungrateful. I heard what happened the other night. You went sneaking down that tunnel by the Whomping Willow, and James Potter saved you from whatever’s down there—”

They don't use dark magic? It doesn't stop them from bullying kids. She doesn't even know the whole story and yet, she is judging.

- She lashes out on Severus instead of her sister -

"I don’t want to talk to you-" she said in a constricted voice. "Why not?" "Tuney h-hates me. Because we saw that letter from Dumbledore.”

It's basically Severus's fault because they got the letter and Petunia didn't? She blames Severus for getting the letter and not her sister for her jealousy?

Lily, whose furious expression had twiched for an instant as though she was going to smile said - let him down!

Ah... Yes, let's watch our best friend get assaulted infront of the whole school and let them be. That's a very nice best friend.

Now tell me, where was she a good friend? She was not an angel, she was terrible.

She also blames Severus for having Evan, Mulciber II, Avery, Wilkes, Rodolphus, and possibly having Narcissa, Lucius, Rabastan, and Regulus as well. Did she expect that she would only be Severus's friend considering he's in a house full of pure-bloods? It was an unspoken rule in Slytherin to basically have pure-blood friends. She doesn't get that, she doesn't understand him, because he is evil in her eyes.

She doesn't get the points that Severus makes, because Severus was already bad in her eyes.

He had questionable company, sure, but Severus wanted companions too like she did with other Gryffindors, so why can't he have friends in his house. She's friends with Gryffindors who basically despise him.

So if he was friends with people that would've called her a mudblood and she didn't like it, why is she inlove with a Gryffindor who bullied Severus anytime he got?

Severus called Lily a mudblood because he was being humiliated infront of the whole school, he didn't want her to see him being weak, so he lashed out.

He was a Slytherin, pretty common by now that his banquet of friends used that word pretty often, and there you have it. Severus never meant to hurt Lily, but it did slip out of his tongue.

Not justifying his actions here (Pretty obvious by my wording) but Lily was NOT innocent in terms here.

"Snape was obsessed with Lily."

Ahh... Yes. Severus was the one who forced Lily to go out with him, Severus was the person to bully her best friend, Severus told her to go out with him and he wouldn't bully his best friend anymore.

Sounds familiar, doesn't it? Because it's not him.

Severus grieved Lily the way Sirius grieved James, yet you don't call Sirius obsessed because he loved James as a brother, Severus's love for Lily was never proved to be romantic.

Aha! Now I made you think.

The same patronus means true love—not obsession. He stayed away from her marriage but still loved her from afar, when he realized the information he gave Voldemort could harm Lily, he offered his life to Dumbledore. He even asked Dumbledore to save James for the sake of Lily.

Sirius would've done the same for James.

After Lily's death, he was devastated, he wished he were dead, he became spy for Dumbledore, and all of that.

Severus and Lily were childhood best friends; Lily was Severus's only "true" friend.

His patronus was a doe, pure light magic (Hence most DEs can't perform a patronus). It wouldn't be affected by obsession.

I don't get why some people think Severus was purely obsessed with Lily, because there will always be a special person in someone's heart and Lily just happens to be Severus's special person.

Even Sirius and Remus who were capable of making such lies about Severus in order to hide everything from Harry, didn't say nothing about Severus stalking Lily or tried to persue her.

She dies and he feels suicidal.

Why do people think this is obsession? Severus had no one, the reason why Sirius could hold himself before he died is because he wanted to take care of Harry, to love him like he loved James. Severus couldn't because he's a death eater and he couldn't love himself, how can he love Harry when Harry looks exactly like his bully. And Severus can't take care of Harry legally anyway, Sirius could because he is his godson.

If Severus was obsessed with Lily, then Harry was obsessed with his dead dad : /

JK. Rowling even said that he wasn't obsessed, how are people so pressed about it?

I just don't get it, why would JK. Rowling write Severus's obsession with Lily and offering his whole life just to have s*x with her everyday on a CHILDREN'S BOOK?

Meanwhile James: - Doodled her initials in his OWL paper, publicly humiliated her friend just to make him look bad in front of her, tried to blackmail Lily into dating him, threatened to hex her and had a map that literally tracked down everybody's (including Lily's) movements. -

"Severus made sure Remus was gone from Hogwarts."

Yes after Remus endangered three children, he already got away with it the first time, he shouldn't in another time.

Remus was completely irresponsible and forgot to take Wolfsbane, sure, he was a good DADA professor, but almost killing three children?

I don't think the Grangers nor Weasleys would want to hear about this.

Thank you for reading my paragraphs of how stupid Mstans can be.

Not everything is about defending Severus, but the double standards are crazy...

Yes, Severus told the prophecy, bullied children, etc. But he's a two-dimensional character who saved the Wizarding World, if Severus didn't apologize to Lily, you'd attack him too.

So... Stop using ATYD references and start adding braincells in your head.

Have a great day! 😓

(Add more if you want to.)

[chimcess]

Waterlog || pjm (5)

Pairing: Jimin x Reader Other tags: Olympic Swimmer!Jimin, Ex Olympic Swimmer! Reader, Swim Coach!Reader Genre: Strangers to Friends to Lovers!AU, Coach!AU, Swimming!AU, HEAVY Angst, Slow Burn, Mutual Pining, fluff, eventual smut, I'm so soft for these two it's crazy. Word Count: 10.8k+ Synopsis: After a car accident ends her athletic career, Y/N has slowly started rebuilding her life again as a high school swim coach. That’s until she gets a request from an old friend and finds herself back in the spotlight as the new coach of Olympic swimmer, Park Jimin. Warnings: ANGST, crying, mental health issues, talking about mental health, I'm so soft for them it's actually wild, angst, trauma, panic attacks, talks of panic attacks, talks of sex, k*ssing, I love them so much, jimin still the best boyfriend, small argument, insecurities, strong language, one bed trope, healthy relationship conversations, boundary setting, friends being friends, character has cancer, talks of character death (brief), dry humping, moaning, things are picking up A/N: I know I'm late again, but I have a lot of personal stuff going on in my life at the moment that had made writing challenging. First a breakup, then finding a new apartment, moving, and then waiting for my internet to get turned on. It's been hectic for me! But we are back. This was very lightly edited so I apologize in advance for any issues there might be. I will go through and edit this eventually, I just wanted to get it out for you guys!

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The drive to Jimin’s house was quick, the traffic not fully registering in my mind as I lost myself in thought. I had only ever been in love once before, and that had been a very different time in my life. I was no longer that same person, and the anxiety these new feelings were bringing up made me nauseous. I was not ready to say anything was certain, but I knew for a fact that I was falling hard and fast. 

The small suburb was nice with large homes. A few new modern builds stuck out like a sore thumb, but the area had still kept much of its original blue-American-suburban charm. Coming from Colorado, I was not used to seeing large front lawns or children’s toys left out after dark. Jimin was just ahead of me and I slowed down when his tail lights came on. 

The house was definitely brand new. I had never liked modern buildings, the architecture lacking the charm and personality I sought out when buying my own place in the Springs, but it suited the swimmer. It was difficult to make out much color, but I could tell it was mostly white with black accents on the front. Large windows took up a majority of the walls and a small balcony was above the front door. It was smaller than the other homes, but the yard was bigger than the rest, and a tall fence enclosed the back of the property. 

Taking a second to prepare myself for the rest of the night, I watched Jimin get out of Fiona and open up the two door garage at the front. He seemed to be in a rush, casting a few quick glances at my car as he paced back to the truck to pull it inside. I do not think he could see me looking back.

Picking up my phone, I called Hoseok.

“Everything okay?” He picked up, out of breath.

I smiled, “I’m okay. Promise.”

He had been extra worried about tonight. Out of everyone, Hoseok knew how huge this was for me. At one of our many late night parties I had told him that I could never love again, and that I never wanted to know that feeling again. If it wasn’t Namjoon then it could not be anybody. At the time he had reassured me, but as the years went on he had truly believed that I had completely closed off that part of my heart. To be so excited about someone had him cautious- even if he did poke fun at me most of the time.

“Why are you calling me then?” He asked.

“Just needed a bit of a pep talk,” I admitted, eyes still locked on Jimin’s truck. “I’m at his house. Feeling a little nervous.”

He hummed, “He seems like a good guy. Don’t think there’s anything you need to worry about. Just enjoy yourself.”

I sighed, watching the garage door close, knowing I would have to get out of the car soon. “I think I’m going insane.”

“Talk to me about it.”

Jimin stood by the garage door, looking at my car. I rolled the window down and waved, gestured to the phone, and managed a pathetic smile. He nodded, still watching me with a strange look on his face.

“I think I love him,” I mumbled, unable to look away from him.

Hoseok laughed, “You just figured that out? Baby, anyone with eyes and ears can see how you feel about the kid.”

“It’s been two seconds, Hobi. We barely know each other.”

“You don’t have to tell him anything,” My friend reasoned, voice nothing but friendly. “You’re all over the place right now, and you need to really think about how you feel. No one wants to hear someone ‘thinks’ they love them. Breathe. Relax. Enjoy yourself.”

As I steadied my breathing, I noticed Jimin’s face becoming concerned. He always knew when something was wrong, and it did not surprise me when he started walking across the front yard towards my car. 

“I have to go,” I choked out, panic bubbling in my chest with each step he took. “I don’t want him hearing us.”

“Otter-”

I hung up the phone and smoothed down my hair. My heart was running at a million miles an hour and my hands were shaking. I hated how worked up I got over nothing. Disgusted and discouraged, I forced a smile on my face and opened the car door. My phone vibrated, the sensation tickling my hand, but I chose to ignore it. Fake it till you make it, I told myself. The curve of Jimin’s mouth told me I was not fooling anyone.

“Everything okay?” He asked, coming to stand in front of me.

“Yeah,” I breathed, nodding frantically. In my panic, I did not see the curb and tripped. Jimin reached out to help steady me before I could fall. I shuttered. “Everything is fine. Hoseok just called to check in with me. Didn’t realize we were out together.”

The lie felt heavy on my tongue and Jimin’s eyebrows came together in confusion. He knew I was lying and it made the sinking in my gut all the more unbearable. Knowing I needed to get a grip, I stepped out of his arms and gestured to the house.

“Nice place,” I sounded like I had just run a marathon. “It’s very you.”

Jimin was quiet. Still trying to avoid talking about my odd behavior, I began rambling on and on about how much I liked the landscaping. The large bushes that surrounded the small front porch were a nice pop of color for the otherwise neutral paint job.

“Is that a gnome wearing a swimming ring?” I asked, squinting trying to make out the little figure in the darkness. “That’s so cute. Did your mom buy you that? I-”

“Y/N.”

My mouth clamped shut.

“What’s wrong?” Jimin asked, reaching out to caress my shoulder. “You’re not acting like yourself.”

I sighed, finally done hiding my very apparent discomfort. “Just really nervous about how I’m feeling.”

“Tell me about it?”

I looked at him and nodded, “Can we go inside? It’s really cold.”

“Of course, angel.”

The pet name made me short circuit long enough to get inside without saying another word. Were we on that level now? Would it be okay for me to start calling him sweet little names like that? Would he want me to? What would I even call the guy? Nothing seemed good enough. No words could ever be good enough to express everything that he was becoming to me. 

“I can take your coat,” Jimin murmured in my ears, hands already helping me shrug out of the dark wool coat. “Shoes go on that little shelf over there.”

“Thank you,” I absentmindedly replied, still dazed. 

What about babe? No, too conventional. Sweetheart? No, that was Joon’s thing. Honey? We are definitely not beating the old woman allegations with that one. That also rules out darling and sweetie. He’d never let me live that down.

“Feeling a bit better now?” He asked, hand on the small of my back as he led me further into the house. “You’re not shaking anymore.”

I had not realized how off course my thoughts had gotten. I got so swept up in him that everything else just faded away. Pleased, I smiled and nodded.

He chuckled, “Where did your mind go this time, angel girl?”

I giggled, giddy that we were keeping up the terms of endearment. 

“You.”

“Me?”

“Yeah, you,” I leaned into his touch, melting in his arms as we walked. He finally wrapped me up completely, pressing me into his side with his hand on my hip. “I like it when you call me that.”

Jimin hummed, “What? Angel?”

I nodded, putting my head on his shoulder. It was a bit awkward but I dealt with the discomfort. I enjoyed being this close to him. Knowing that he seemed just as eager to be here with me was a bonus. 

“What do you think of the place?” He asked.

Blinking, I tried to disguise the fact that I had not been paying attention to a single thing since we walked inside. Letting my eyes wonder, I almost laughed at how accurate Jimin’s description of his house was. 

Standing in his living room, I marveled at how dark everything was. Black leather sofas, a dark gray fluffy rug, a flat screen, and a black iron fireplace were the stand out pieces. There were a few family photos on the mantle and a fake potted plant beside it, but other than that it was completely barren. It was just as sad and depressing as he said it would be, but instead of feeling disappointed it only made me smile. Everything in here was his and now I was included in that. 

“I love it.”

He laughed, squeezing me impossibly closer, “You don’t have to lie. I know it’s the quintessential bachelor pad.”

“I’m not lying,” I argued. “It’s perfect. Very you.”

“Even the dusty, ugly, fake Der Rose Jungkook got me as a housewarming gift?”

“Especially that,” I joked.

“Okay clown,” He laughed, pulling away from my side. “Go sit on the couch and I’ll make us some hot chocolate. Need to warm you up.”

Giving me the remote for the very large television hanging above the fireplace, Jimin promised to be back soon and left me in charge of finding something good to watch. After flicking through a few channels, I ended up settling on 21 Jump Street and ogled at Johnny Depp and Holly Robinson Peete. My dad and I used to watch the show together when I was young, and it brought me back to the few happy times that we had. I really needed to call him.

“Damn that’s a handsome man.”

I jumped, “Jesus you scared me.”

Jimin laughed, setting down two mugs on his coffee table. They were steaming hot and I decided to leave mine to cool off for a few seconds. Taking his seat next to me, Jimin was quick to throw his arm around my shoulders and pull his legs up onto the sofa. 

“Get comfortable,” He said, crossing his legs. “It’s just me.”

“Yeah,” I snorted, curling my legs up next to me and placing my head on his shoulder. “That’s the problem.”

“You’re being extra flirty tonight,” He teased. “I like it.”

I chose to stay quiet and watch the show. This was one of my favorite episodes. Hanson, Hoff, and Loki go undercover to try and solve a string of drive-by shootings between a couple of gangs, and Booker is trying to investigate a dirty cop on the force. I always loved the scenes between Johnny Depp and Holly the most. They were so cute together and the chemistry was crazy even though their characters never ended up together.

Jimin started playing with my hair, his fingers gently caressing my neck before scratching my scalp. It felt amazing and I relaxed even further into his side. After that episode was over, he leaned down and put his head on top of mine. Another episode came on, this was the second part to the previous, and I let my eyes close. This was really nice. And to think I almost let it all go to shit because I could not keep myself from spiraling.

“I’m sorry about earlier,” I mumbled.

“Don’t be,” He whispered back, placing a small kiss on the top of my head. “Never apologize for being upset.”

Taking a deep breath, I thought about what Hoseok had said. There was no reason to tell him anything right now, or at least, the “L” word did not need to come into conversation. Still, it felt wrong to keep him in the dark. Jimin was always willing to listen and I felt awful for lying to him earlier.

“I really like you and sometimes it scares me,” I admitted quietly. “I called Hoseok to see if he had any advice. Sorry I lied about that.”

He shook his head, “I’m not upset with you, angel. Sometimes they scare me, too.”

“Really?” I had never really thought about that before.

“Of course,” He chuckled, moving away to look down at me. I lifted my head in a rare act of bravery. “I don’t think you understand just how amazing you are.”

I smiled lazily, unable to look away from him. He looked so beautiful in this lighting. The tv on one side of his face, the darkness in the rest of the house casting a dark shadow on the rest of it. I noticed his head inching closer, eyes heavily lidded as he watched me, waiting for a reaction. Heart pounding, I did the only thing I could think of. I closed my eyes and tilted my head higher.

“You smell so good,” He murmured, lips brushing mine. “God, you’re so pretty.”

I opened my mouth to respond but was unable to get anything out before his lips were pressed against it. I breathed out through my nose and allowed myself to just enjoy it. His lips were so soft and plump, his upper lip just barely scratching my skin with peach fuzz, and chin ever so gently bumping against mine as we came together. 

My skin was on fire as he invaded every cell in my body until all I could think about was him. His hand gripped the back of my neck and pressed us together roughly, his tongue licking against my bottom lip asking to be let inside. There was nothing he couldn’t ask for now. I mewled embarrassingly when our tongues twisted together. Jimin groaned in response. 

“Is this okay?” He rasped when we pulled apart for air.

I replied by taking his face in my hands and pulling him back in for more. Jimin responded eagerly, gripping my neck tighter and holding me close. I hummed in satisfaction, leaning into his chest. His skin was on fire beneath me and I briefly wondered if his chest got as pink as his cheeks did.

Jimin broke away, dragging my body closer until I was practically laying on his lap, before guiding my mouth back to his. My lips were numb, swollen, and still begging for more. The show was long forgotten, the noise also like static in the background as I suckled on his bottom lip. Jimin whined, fingers twisting into my hair as he held me in place.

“Feeling okay?” He mumbled into my mouth, taking a second to catch his breath.

“Great,” I slurred, before shutting him up again.

I lost track of time as we sat there entangled in one another. Lips hardly able to feel anything anymore, I broke away and tried to calm my racing heart. Jimin took the opportunity to go for my neck, his plush lips delicate against my skin. I shuttered. 

I could feel my panties sticking to my folds, slick gently wetting my thighs as he continued his gentle assault on my neck. He never sucked hard enough to leave marks behind, but after a few moments I could safely say Jimin was a fan of teeth. They scratched my skin softly, tickling me in the process, before his tongue smoothed over any redness that might have popped up. Moaning, I tilted my head back and granted him more access.

“You’re so fucking hot,” He rasped, licking a long stripe up my neck before biting my ear. “So needy.”

I chuckled, the sound breathless. “Do you want to stop?”

“Fuck no.”

I giggled, kissing his cheek, “Such a boy.”

I nodded, kissing the underside of my chin before pecking my lips.

“I’m your boy,” He smiled lazily, kissing me again.

“Yes,” I agreed, unable to stop smiling as I cradled his face between my hands. “My good-looking boy.”

With one final peck on my chin, Jimin leaned back into the sofa and dragged my body down with his. Laying on top of his body, my eyes fixated on the tv. Buffy the Vampire Slayer was playing now, and I grinned. It was one of my favorite shows to watch when I had a bad day. It was nice to have it with me at this moment. A happy memory with my comfort show in the background only sweetened the already tender moment. 

“She should have been with Spike,” Jimin’s chest rumbled underneath me.

Getting more comfortable, I nodded.

“I kind of like that she decided to stay friends with them both. Tara and Willow were the power couple anyway.”

“Not a fan of Oz?” He started playing with my hair.

“I liked them, too, but for different reasons. The only other couple that comes close to Tara and Willow were Giles and Jenny.”

We were quiet as we watched, small kisses shared during commercial breaks, and I never felt the need to try and open my mouth. Nothing needed to be said when our feelings were so apparent. Hoseok, as usual, was right. I just needed time to breathe and think about things before running head first into a love confession. And if he said anyone with eyes and ears could see how I felt, then there was no real reason for me to say anything. Jimin already knows. He always did.

“God, I’ve always loved that DeSoto Fireflite,” I gushed, eyeing Spike's car hungrily. “The ‘59 model is sexy.”

“Why do you know so much about cars?” He asked.

“My dad’s a mechanic,” I explained. “He owns his own restoration shop back in Pennsylvania and I used to go over there all of the time. I almost ditched swimming to take over the body shop when he lost an employee.”

“You never stop amazing me,” He murmured, kissing the top of my head. “Has he found anything cool recently?”

I grew quiet. Truthfully, I had no clue. It had been almost two years since we last spoke, and I doubted he was looking forward to hearing from me. He had a new family. A new life. One that did not have the space for me in it. My silence must have worried Jimin because he asked if I was okay.

“We don’t talk anymore,” I replied. “He got remarried a few years ago and his wife doesn’t like me.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah,” I sighed, “It’s juvenile, really. He seems happy though, so I don’t push it.”

“They don’t deserve you. You’re too good to be treated like that.”

I laughed, eyes prickling with unshed tears. I did not talk about this often and it felt nice to get it off of my chest. For a long time Victor had been the person I looked to as a father figure, and we still keep in touch. He always calls for holidays and birthdays, checks in randomly, and asks me how I’m doing. He stayed with me through the worst of the damage, and only left Colorado when his daughter decided to move abroad for school. Denver was too expensive to justify the expenses and his new trainee was in Florida. I missed him a lot more than I ever realized.

“I made my own family, though. Couldn’t have picked better.”

Colorado would always be home because that was where pieces of my heart lived. Jin, Andy, and Hoseok were never planning on moving. Minho would be there as long as Tilly was, and she was around for Hoseok. I had a feeling Max would change that, and the two of them may end up starting a new adventure with Minho in tow. A trouple for the ages. That made me grin.

Michigan was starting to feel like my own adventure. New bonds and ties are formed with each passing day. Going back to Colorado helped to put that in perspective. It did not matter if I was there or not, because my family was, and I would always have a place there. Ann Arbor was different.

The person I envisioned myself spending the rest of my life with lived here, his family and friends becoming like my own, and I could never ask him to leave them. When Na-Yeon died someone would need to be around for James and the kids. When Jungkook and Darcy inevitably went their separate ways, he would need a shoulder to cry on. Taehyung and his panic attacks. Milo and his work stresses. All of it meant that someone needed to be around to bring them back to themselves, and I wanted to be a part of that in any way they would allow me.

“I’m really happy that I met you,” I told Jimin, eyes not truly focusing on the show anymore. “Being here with you- I couldn’t ask for more.”

A kiss on my head, “I feel the same way, angel.”

I fell asleep like that. Jimin had to wake me up a little after one in the morning to see if I wanted to sleep at his place. I politely declined since I promised the Andersons that I would be back for breakfast tomorrow and left shortly thereafter. I barely even focused on the ride home, tired and drunk off of the high of the evening. 

Calvin was awake when I walked through the front door. A plate of cookies in front of him, he held up a finger to his lips and pointed upstairs. Violet had been strict about his diet as of late. The last time he had gone to the doctor his cholesterol levels were slightly elevated, and we had been eating very bland, not all that great food ever since. I smiled sleepily, stealing a cookie for myself as payment. We would never speak of this night again.

Finishing up my cookie, I quickly peeled out of my clothes before heading into the bathroom to do my skincare routine. Exhausted, I was barely aware of the text I sent to Jimin before I climbed into bed. I was asleep before my head ever hit the pillow.

“You’re still not hitting your best time,” I spoke into my headset, looking at the stop watch in my hand. “We’re only at 90%. I want 92%.”

Jimin groaned, frustrated and tired. We had been at this all morning and he was not making as much progress as I hoped he would. I had prepared an 200s anaerobic training set so we could work on his endurance. For the last few weeks we were focused on speed and mastering his butterflies and turns. Now that we were feeling more comfortable training together I was moving onto those issues I had at the beginning. So far it was not going over well.

“This is bullshit,” He huffed, pulling his goggles up. “I’ve been at this for hours and haven’t done anything.”

I shook my head and fought to keep myself neutral. Training had become a bit challenging to work around given our new relationship status, but we both agreed to keep that out of our sessions. We had another date next Friday. He was refusing to tell me where we were going, the only hint being we would be going to Jungkook’s game, but the rest was a mystery. 

“You’re getting better,” I replied, holding the microphone closer to my mouth. I had woken up with a sore throat and could not speak loud enough on my own, so we were finally using my old earpiece to communicate. “You went from 88% to 90%. I think with some more drills we can get up a bit more.”

He went to put his goggles back on, but I told him to stop.

“We’re done for the day,” I said, rubbing my raw throat. “You’re getting angry and I’m losing my voice.”

He stared at me, glowering childishly, and crossed his arms across his chest. Lifting my head a little higher, I looked at him with an eyebrow raised. It was a challenge, one we both knew meant I was losing my patience. Normally he would back down at this point, tucking his tail between his legs, and going to the back to get changed. Today, it would seem, was not a normal day.

“No we’re not,” He said through gritted teeth, eyes narrowed. “I’m not where I want to be.”

“Yes. We. Are,” I made a show of emphasizing every word, tossing my clipboard onto the duffle at my feet. “Something is bothering you. If you don’t want to talk to me about it, that’s fine, but you’ve been acting like a brat all morning.” I ripped my whistle off my neck, bent down, and shoved both it and the stopwatch into the pocket of the duffle bag. Jimin was still pouting in the center of the pool. “I’m not arguing with you. I’m sick and you’re angry. Just go get dressed.”

My throat burned. I talked too much and had not given the sore skin time to rest. Rubbing my forehead, I breathed through my nose in an attempt to cool off. His attitude was really starting to piss me off.

Angry, Jimin made his way out of the pool far louder than necessary. I sighed when the locker room door slammed behind him. I got us off on the wrong foot this morning by being snippy and curt with my answers. His foul mood only made it worse. As training went on I had gotten back into the groove, my annoyance over being ill forgotten, but my bad behavior had obviously bothered him enough to keep him frustrated with me for the rest of the morning. It did not help that I never apologized. 

I took more time packing up my things today hoping that I could “bump into” Jimin before leaving. I tried to think of the right way to word my own frustrations without undermining what happened between us. I hurt his feelings, and I needed to take ownership of that. 

“Sorry for acting like an ass.”

I shouted, shocked, and nearly slipped on the wet floor. Rebalancing on the balls of my feet, I looked over to see Jimin standing at the locker room door. He was still wearing his cap but threw on a pair of shorts. 

“I thought you were taking a shower,” I rasped, all of the fire from earlier gone. 

“Me too,” He ran a hand over his face and leaned against the closed door. “Just felt wrong letting you leave like that.”

I nodded, swallowing thickly. My saliva irritated my throat more and I winced in pain. I really needed something to help with the pain. 

“It’s not just you,” I finally said, my voice cracking. “I acted like an asshole this morning and you had every right to be upset. I’m sorry I didn’t apologize, either.”

“Doesn’t mean I should have gotten all pissy,” He sighed, looking more relaxed now than he had all day. “I’ve always had a bad temper, but that’s not an excuse to talk to you like that. It wasn’t even that big of a deal.”

He was doing that thing again, the thing where he downplayed his own hurt feelings and redirected blame onto himself. Not wanting his mind to go down that rabbit hole, I walked over to him. I rarely went to this side of the room. I usually used the employee shower in the back since I felt less exposed, but Jimin never felt ashamed of his nakedness. The only reason he started putting shorts on is because he noticed how awkward I became.

“It’s okay to be mad at me,” I soothed, reaching out to take hold of his hand. “We both acted a little childishly. Don’t beat yourself up about it.”

Nodding, he leaned forward to rest his head on my shoulder. 

“I just feel bad,” He whispered into my skin. “You’re not feeling well and here I am making it worse. I’m such a dick sometimes.”

I wrapped my arms around his neck, holding him close. Despite our second date being postponed due to training and the charity event this weekend, the physical affection we showed one another only ramped up. Kissing was Jimin’s new favorite thing, and I hoped we could take it a step further this weekend. Even if he was cool with taking things slow I had come to find out that I was not. Maybe after a nice conversation we could fool around a little more.

“So am I,” My voice was almost gone. “Now, can we stop arguing and get breakfast? A hot chocolate is the only thing that’s going to make me feel better.”

He chuckled, lifting his head to look at me. He was no longer angry, eyes dancing, and I felt a surge of energy run through me. Sick or not, I would do just about anything to keep him smiling. Even if it meant doing the hardest thing imaginable: apologizing. Stepping out of my embrace, Jimin took hold of my hand and walked us back to my duffle bag. He always insisted on carrying it.

“I think a hot tea would be much better for a sore throat,” He mused, “But if it’s cocoa you want, well, who am I to stop you?”

Rolling my eyes, I leaned into his side, “Who’s paying?”

“Me,” He scoffed. “Obviously. Denny’s is way cheaper than putting gas in my truck.”

That made me laugh loudly, the pain in my throat forgotten. We had a rule between the two of us. If you didn’t buy breakfast then you were buying gas for the day. Jimin had taken extra time coming to scoop me up this morning since I woke up sick and refused to stay in bed. After a lengthy conversation about money, we both agreed that he could pay for all of our dates if I could split up other costs with him. While not happy about it, he conceded.

“And they say chivalry is dead,” I teased, rolling my eyes.

The gym was filled, always packed just before and after lunch time. The lull of the afternoon would carry over until around 6 and we had a decent sized group until closing. When Giselle opened up at 5:30 the following morning, the same group of guys were always the first ones in the door. I had spoken to them a handful of times and helped spot one of them once or twice, but that was the most of my interactions with anyone that exercised here. None of us really wanted to be bothered, and kept mostly to ourselves.

Giselle and Sam were chatting at the host stand when we walked by. Jimin was always nice enough to greet his staff, but never stuck around for too long. They were all friendly, and he was very good friends with Yoongi and Megan, but he was too focused on keeping up with his daily schedule to hang out. Despite being late to everything, Jimin was an extremely organized person and hated it when his plans were disrupted. 

“Where are you two headed?” The young woman asked, a genuine smile on her face as she glanced down at our hands. 

“Breakfast,” I answered. Giselle was easily my favorite person here, her only competition being Megan or Yoongi, and I always tried to make time for her when she was available. “Do you need something?”

She shook her head, “Not right now, but would you be okay with bringing in a case of the blue Monsters tomorrow? We just ran out and Yoongi is feeling it hard.”

I laughed and agreed. Yoongi was the resident caffeine addict on staff and would go through pot after pot of coffee during his shift. After Drew, the general manager, told him he was using too many of the Keurig cups, he had moved onto energy drinks. The Lo-Carb Monsters were his favorite, and I was not surprised to hear he was out. He bought a four pack every other day.

“I’ll DoorDash a few packs to the building right now. I owe him anyway.”

“Are you ordering from Busch’s?” Sam asked. 

I nodded, “Probably. I know they’ll have them. What’s up?”

“Can you throw in a couple of sushi rolls?” He asked, and my phone vibrated in the side pocket of my leggings. “I sent you $20. I totally forgot to pack my lunch and I’m swamped with sessions today.”

“Sure man. Spicy crab rolls?”

“You’re an angel,” Sam sighed. “Make sure you get plenty of rest. You sound like shit.”

“Thanks,” I replied sarcastically, rolling my eyes. “See you tomorrow. I think Park will be riding solo tonight.”

Jimin chuckled, “I’m planning on skipping the gym tonight, too.”

We walked out of the building, hands swinging between us. The feeling was so familiar and yet so foreign. I had not dated since Joon’s passing and was severely out of practice, but Jimin made it feel easy. 

“You? Skipping leg day? Scandalous.”

Jimin laughed, sounding like sunshine. “And let my girl sit at home sick by herself?”

That shut me up. After learning I was a sucker for pet names, Jimin had gotten into the habit of using them to get his way. Feeling my face heating up, I forced a laugh as I let go of his hand and rounded the truck. My girl. It made me feel both terrified and comforted at the same time.

My girl…Angel…Angel Girl… I couldn’t pick a favorite.

“Do you mind if I come over?” Jimin sounded less confident now. 

I had barely noticed him starting the truck. Must have zoned out again. 

“I don’t have much to do,” I admitted. “My place is pretty boring.”

“You’re there,” He shrugged. “And you have a tv. I’m sure we can think of something.”

“Okay,” I hid my smile behind my hand and started to look out of the window.

Saline was very beautiful. At this time of year, many of the trees were barren but I knew they would look gorgeous in the summer. I frowned. I was set to be back in Colorado by then if I could not make up my mind about the move.

“Don’t get quiet on me, gran-gran,” I snorted. “You don’t blink when you zone out and it’s creepy.”

“I so do,” I laughed, turning to look at the pretty boy. “You are such a liar.”

That did nothing but make him laugh. “Might want to order those drinks, by the way.”

I thanked him for the reminder and quickly made a small shopping cart. I threw in a few extras. Coconut creamer for Skye, a new box of Hot Pockets for Drew and Dominic, and a large box of cookies and chips for the rest of the staff. Before I could check out, a page popped up of previous things I had ordered before and I quickly added one of those expensive bags of cookies. Those were Megan’s favorite and she had bought me two coffees this week. 

“Do you want anything?” I asked Jimin.

“Maybe some seaweed chips?” We were turning into the Denny’s parking lot. “Thanks, angel.”

I added in a few other items. Band-aids because I knew we were running low, more tea bags, the coffee pods Yoongi liked, and a few different packets of the candy for Giselle. She had such a sweet tooth it was a miracle she only had one cavity. It took me a bit longer to find Jimin’s favorite brand of seaweed chips, and I decided to toss in a few different flavors of the spicy ramen he loves to eat as well. Finally happy with my order, I checked out and messaged Sam that I secured his lunch. He sent me the sunglasses emoji as a reply.

“Earth to Y/N.”

I jumped, blinking rapidly, and saw a thoroughly amused Jimin staring at me. We were parked, the truck was off, and his hand was already on the handle. We both laughed but did not say anything else. If Jimin could be late all of the time then I could space out whenever I wanted.

“I’m so ready for these blueberry pancakes,” Jimin threw his arm around my shoulders as we walked. “What are you getting?”

I shrugged, “Hot cocoa and an omelet, probably.”

“An omlet does sound really good,” He mumbled to himself, holding open the door for me.

“That’s why I’m getting one,” I mumbled, pausing at the door to kiss him. “I’m thinking  ham and cheese.”

Jimin smiled, caught off guard by the gesture, “Shit, if omelets get me one of those then I’ll eat eggs for the rest of my life.”

I laughed, the sound echoing in the small entrance area. This Denny’s was always busy but I could see a few empty booths in the back. Perfect.

“You think I’m playing,” He continued, wrapping an arm around my waist as he grabbed a hold of the second door. “Breakfast, lunch, and dinner if I had to.”

I rolled my eyes, “You don’t need to live off eggs to get kisses, you big baby.”

“No,” He chuckled, swooping down and stealing a kiss of his own. “But it sounded really cool.”

The hostess smiled at our little exchange and I fixed her with a deadpan stare.

“Typical.”

She laughed, “Right this way.”

Hobi: Are you excited about the charity event?

Me: Park’s going to kill it

Hobi: Nervous about getting seen?

Me: Not at all. I doubt anyone there will recognize me anyway.

Closing the trunk of my car, I sighed. We were on our way to the charity meet, and Jimin was running a few minutes behind. Fiona needed to go to a shop soon and Jimin was driving her like she was going to explode any second. It was frustrating as I hated being late, but it was impossible to be angry with him. We had planned on leaving the day before the meet and getting a hotel room so we could both be as well rested as possible. 

To say I was nervous about sharing a room for the night was an understatement. Jimin had gotten a suite with two beds so I would feel more comfortable (his words, not mine), but the added security of separation did little to calm my racing thoughts. I was not planning on having sex this weekend, Jimin needed to keep his energy for the meet, but I would be lying if I said the thought had not crossed my mind more than once.

“Are you okay?”

Snapping out of my trance, I turned to find the man of the hour stood next to me. There was a large duffle bag around his shoulders, and his oversized hoodie only made him look even smaller. Smiling, he kissed my cheek in greeting. 

“Fine,” I breathed, smiling back. “Almost ready?”

Jimin nodded, “Just need to put this bag in the back. You didn’t forget any of your meds, right?”

He had been spending most of his time at my house recently and was well acquainted with my large pill collection. At first he had been concerned as to why I turned down taking medication for my illness back on Monday, but stopped questioning it so much when I told him about the other four pills I take daily. I always avoided taking extra stuff if I could.

“They’re in my suitcase.”

We were going to be in Allendale until Sunday. The meet was on Saturday, and while it was only a little over 2 hours away, I was positive Jimin was going to be exhausted after we were finished. This was an event super close to his heart and he had told me how nervous he felt about attending. Spending two nights seemed like a simple solution to deal with both of our anxieties, and even more so when I brought up my fears of being recognized and harassed. Jimin turned red with anger when I told him about my previous experiences with the news and promised he would never let that happen to me again. 

“I guess we should stop by my mom’s house on the way out,” He mused. “I know she wanted to come but she’s been really sick.”

Na-Yeon’s avoidance of treatment was finally beginning to take its toll on her physical health. I had hardly seen her at all since I came back from Colorado, and from what Jimin tells me she’s done nothing but throw up and sleep. James had told me that she was trying to stay alive long enough to see Jimin win an Olympic medal, but he wasn’t sure if that was going to be possible. I was hoping to speak with her myself and see if there was any way I could convince her to start her chemo back up again. It was killing Jimin to see his mother this way.

“I was thinking,” I handed my keys over to Jimin. “Maybe your mom and I could have a little girl’s day when we get back.”

“Why?” He chuckled, 

I shrugged. Trying to come off as nonchalant was better than honesty. I was not sure how Jimin would take my intrusion, but I still wanted to try it anyway. I loved Na-Yeon, and hoped that I could talk her out of her decision. There had been a time when I would have let myself die, too, but I was fortunate enough to have Andy fighting for me. I probably would have never walked again had it not been for her and Hoseok.

“Just want to be closer to her,” It was not a lie. I was dating her son and I wanted us to be like mother and daughter the same way I had been with Namjoon’s family. “She’s been looking a little down lately. Maybe getting out of the house a little might cheer her up.”

Jimin grinned at me, his expression soft. Leaning forward, he kissed my forehead. My chest warmed. He was always touching me as though I was made of glass.

“Have I ever told you how amazing you are?” He asked.

“Once or twice,” I replied, a giggling bubbling up my throat. “We should get going. Traffic is going to start piling up soon.”

Piling into the car, I relaxed into the passenger seat and took a hold of Jimin’s hand. He chuckled, pulled away to put the car into drive, and placed his hand on my thigh. I could feel a light layer of sweat on his palms. I put my hand on top of his.

“Are you sure you’re okay driving?” I asked him, tightening my grip.

“Yeah, angel,” He replied, smiling over at me. “I’m good. I like driving.”

“Still,” I argued, “You’re going to be swimming all day tomorrow. I feel bad making you drive, too.”

“Don’t,” He lifted my hand and kissed the back of it. His eyes never left the road. “I’m happy you’re here with me. All that other shit is just details.”

That shut me up. We drove in silence for the few minutes that it took to get to his parent’s house. I decided to stay in the car while he went to say goodbye. Jimin deserved some alone time with his folks, and I had sent a text to his mother this morning promising to send her a video of him swimming. All she cared about was making sure she could have a phone call with him when everything was over with. Na-Yeon missed watching him swim more than anything and it broke her heart that she was too ill to come with us today.

James waved at me from the front door and I returned the gesture with a huge smile. He had been so excited to see me after finding out about Jimin and I. James was extremely supportive and had already started to call me his daughter. I had yet to return the favor, but secretly loved it. Jimin would get so embarrassed, he’d turn red and scold his dad in Korean. Na-Yeon would watch them silently, but send me a smile and a wink when she thought no one was looking. Wedding bells were already sounding off in their heads.

I thought it would bother me more than it did. Instead, I felt calmed by their excitement. I had been really worried about the age gap between the two of us, but having our family and friends be so accepting had taken that weight off of my shoulders. 

Ne-Yeon’s little head poked out from behind her husband’s shoulder. She looked worn and had bags under her eyes, but her smile was just as big and beautiful as it always had been. Touched that she had thought to come and greet me, I got out of the car.

“What are you doing out of bed?” I teased, wrapping my arms around the frail woman.

She returned my hug with full force. It was concerning that her squeezes felt feather light. I hoped she was eating enough.

“Bodybuilding,” She joked, her voice lacking the usual spunk it carried. When I went to let go, she held me tighter. “Take care of him.”

I nodded, “I will.”

Jimin and I left a few minutes later. Na-Yeon was hanging off of him for as long as she could, her little arm wrapped around his waist as the four of us stood in their doorway. James and I never made physical contact, but Jimin always swore his dad preferred me to him. The older man was always smiling at me, his eyes sparkling brightly, and his mouth moving so quickly at times it was difficult to understand what he was saying. Today was one of those days and I struggled to pay attention to anything else.

“Dad,” Jimin interrupted Jame’s latest fishing story. “We have to go.”

James deflated.

“When you come back?” He asked me. 

“Sunday,” I replied. “We should be back for dinner.”

He smiled again, “I make daegusal-jorim for you. It’s spicy.”

I grinned. If I remember right, that was some sort of cod dish. James was always making some type of seafood since he was fishing constantly. Na-Yeon often complained about never eating any other meat. Jimin and I were always happy to indulge ourselves in his father’s cooking.

“I’m cooking,” Ne-Yeon said.

I looked at her, “Really?”

The last time I had eaten her food was Jimin’s birthday back in October. She made a huge pot of kimchi stew since it was her son’s favorite, and I remembered it being delicious. Sometimes Jimin would talk about all of his favorite foods he grew up eating, and 9 times out of 10 it would be something his mother had made him. Apparently, according to Jimin, his father could only cook fish. Na-Yeon, however, could make magic out of nothing. 

“Yes,” She insisted. “Need to celebrate my baby.”

Jimin flushed, his mother’s fingers pinching at his fat cheeks. “Mom.”

“I’ll try to get us back early enough to help you out,” I offered, checking my watch. “We really do need to go, though. Trying to beat the traffic.”

With a few hugs and a couple of kisses on the cheek, Jimin and I left. I had finally grown used to Jimin playing the radio while he drove, and I enjoyed watching him as he sang along. Catching my eye, Jimin grinned widely and serenaded me. He had a pretty voice, soft and sweet, and I felt my heart jump into my throat.

It was shocking just how comfortable I was in this car with him. Instead of staring out the window, watching the roads like a hawk, I was laughing and enjoying his presence. With the radio blasting, I opened my mouth and sang back. Jimin’s eyes widening, his voice growing more confident as he took my hand in his.

“With a taste of your lips I’m on a ride,” He giggled, squeezing my fingers.

“You're toxic,” I wiggled my eyebrows. “I’m slippin’ under.”

“With a taste of a poison paradise,” I leaned over and kissed his shoulder. “I’m addicted to you. Don’t you know that you’re toxic?”

Satisfied with myself, I leaned back in my seat and watched him sing. My actions only emboldened his own, and soon Jimin was singing his heart out in the driver's seat. His hand on my thigh moved closer and closer to my core only to slide back down when he realized what he was doing. Each time I laughed it off, but inside I was yearning for him to do more. Not in the car, I might have a real panic attack then, but possibly when we were in the safety of our hotel room.

The drive was quicker than normal. We had beaten the traffic by an hour and our impromptu karaoke session in the car made the time fly. The sun was just beginning to set as we pulled up at the hotel and Jimin was practically skipping inside. Making him happy was something I took great pride in, and my little performance in the car had made him radiant.

My chest puffed out when I caught the front desk receptionist eyed him hungrily. Her pretty eyes were unable to stop staring at the beautiful boy beside me. Hand in hand, we took our key card and made our way to the elevator.

When the doors shut, Jimin pulled me into his arms. I sighed in relief. He smelled so good, his chest warm and hard, and I could smell the faint hint of his after shave. It didn’t matter if we won or lost this event. Nothing was going to destroy the high I was on.

“I’m nervous,” Jimin mumbled, letting me go when the elevator dinged. “I know a few of the guys I’ll be swimming with tomorrow. They’re all really good.”

I nodded, “You’re better.”

“How do you know that?” I had never heard him sound so unsure of himself before. “I haven’t been competing like I normally do this season.”

“Because you’re Jimin Park,” I replied easily, the confidence in my tone unmistakable. “And I’m Y/N Y/L/N. We’ve both put in a lot of work and time into this, and you’re going to be great.”

“But-”

I shushed him. Taking the keycard from his hand, I swiped the card through the reader and opened the door. Behind me, Jimin breathed through his nose. It was a loud, defeated sound. Stepping into the room, I gestured for Jimin to walk inside and closed the door behind us.

It was a standard hotel room. A large queen sized bed was in the middle, a small love seat beside it, and a mini fridge beside the large flat screen hanging on the wall. The air was stale, like no one had been in here in a while, and I could faintly see fading stains on some kind in the dark carpet. I bit my lip. Maybe I should have gotten the nicer place Taehyung had suggested.

“5 Stars?” Jimin dead-panned, the little smirk on his face telling me he was joking.

I sauntered closer to him, hands resting on his chest, “Of course. Only the best for an Olympian.”

He sighed, wrapping his arms around my waist, “Thank you angel.”

Still feeling high off of his presence, I kissed his cheek.

“I was talking about me.”

“Yeah?” He mumbled, lips brushing my own. “You think you’re funny?”

I nodded, dazed, “Hilarious.”

“Ass,” He breathed, before finally kissing me properly. “Anyone ever tell you that you talk too much?” Another kiss. Then another. Then another. “It’s distracting.”

“What should we do about that?” I choked out, chasing after his retreating face. “Where are you going?”

He giggled cheekily, eyes glittering mischievously. 

“We need to eat, don’t we?”

I rolled my eyes and huffed, grabbing the back of his neck with my hand. “Fuck the food.”

He pulled away again, his face far more serious now. All of the playful lust flowing through my vein was stopped dead in its tracks leaving a chill in its wake. Fearful I had been too forward, I immediately took a step back and shied away from him like I had been burned. Jimin noticed this and shook his head, reaching out to grab my hand. I let him.

“I want to,” He told me. “I’m just not ready for that yet, and I think you deserve better than some nasty motel in Allendale.”

I nodded, my understanding of his fears doing little to dull the sting of his rejection. I knew it was not a real rejection, he had just asked for more time, but my heart ached with the memory of him moving away from me. It made me feel disgusted. Still, I forced a smile onto my face and nodded. I hoped he could tell I was okay with his request. It was only the hurt feelings that made me want to run away and hide.

“I get it,” Even I could hear the sickeningly-sweet edge my voice had taken on and hated it. I was so bad at this shit. “We can take our time. Whatever you want.”

Jimin frowned but chose not to say anything. Pulling back from him, I wandered to the tv and picked up the remote. A home renovation show was on and I knew I would not be paying enough attention to the tv to care how awful the acting was. 

“What’s for lunch?” I asked absentmindedly, trying to come across more relaxed than I felt. “I saw a pizza place on the way in if you’re feeling it.”

Silence.

“Maybe something less greasy,” I mused, already feeling myself growing panicked. “Milo said there’s a really good Italian place not too far from here-”

“Baby.”

I stopped talking and looked at the pretty boy standing across the room. He looked so sad and it broke my heart. I hated it when he didn't smile. I hated it even more when it was my fault.

“Talk to me,” He urged, coming to stand beside me. He made no moves to touch me for which I was grateful. “I know you’re upset about something.”

I shrugged, “I take rejection about as well as anybody else, and I don’t want you to feel bad about it so I’m moving on. I know we’re both hungry so I’m trying to figure out food. I’m sorry if I’m being weird again.”

He nodded, smiling sadly. “I’m sorry I hurt your feelings.”

I reached out to hug him. Jimin was happy to take me into his arms. I loved how safe and secure I felt in his presence. I was slightly taller than he was, my body made for swimming, but he never seemed to mind. Leaning down, I tucked my head underneath his chin and closed my eyes. Breathe, I told myself.

“You didn’t mean to,” I replied. “I’m sorry if I made you feel pressured or rushed into anything.”

He chuckled, “I want to have sex with you. Just not right now. Not tonight.”

I closed my eyes, “Later?”

That made him laugh. I grinned in response. My foul mood left with a kiss to the top of my head. We were fine. There was no reason to get insecure. We were fine. Jimin liked me. I liked him. That’s all that matters.

I adjusted myself and leaned my head on his. Jimin buried his face into my neck and left a few gentle kisses on the sensitive skin. I whined in response, curling into him. Jimin groaned, the sound strained. I felt it in my core.

“Definitely,” He rasped, giving my neck another kiss. “We need to stop before I change my mind.”

I giggled, pulling away from him. If he wanted space and time then I would give that to him, even if it meant making the both of us a little uncomfortable for the next two days. With the awkward moment behind us, we started planning out dinner and I was confident in our chances at winning tomorrow. Even though it was a charity event, we were both excited about the donation money going to the hospital where his mother received treatment. Jimin especially.

After our late lunch (we decided on pizza), we came back to the hotel. I was adamant that Jimin take the day off from swimming to preserve his energy for tomorrow. His old coach (asshole) had always forced him to swim at every possible moment, and would become angry and condescending when Jimin asked for time off. I swore the next time I saw Hamilton I’d give him a piece of my mind, but knew that I would ultimately leave him be. The guy was a slimeball and didn’t deserve my time and energy.

Crawling into bed that night, we talked for a few hours while a crime tv show played. Jimin enjoyed pillowtalk and I just enjoyed his company too much to tell him to stop talking. Once it was around ten, his eyes closed in the middle of a sentence and light snores followed soon after. That was another thing he was good at- falling asleep wherever and whenever.

I got out of bed a few minutes later, my mind too busy to go to sleep. As quietly as I could, I walked out of the hotel room. Jimin did not move an inch. 

Hoseok picked up after the third ring.

“Do you know what time it is?” He answered, fake anger in his voice.

“Yeah, 10,” I rolled my eyes. “Way before your bedtime. Are you free?”

Hoseok hummed, “Yeah. What’s up?”

I groaned, embarrassment creeping up my spine. I would have preferred to talk to Andy about this, but I knew she was working tonight and would not be free. Tilly was an absolute no go, and I did not feel comfortable enough with anybody in Saline to call them this late to talk about my dry sex life. They were all Jimin’s friends first anyway.

“Jimin says he’s not ready for sex and I’m trying not to overthink it. I need your advice, oh wise one.”

Hoseok laughed, “Dude, I can’t help you. My girl is the same way.”

Shocked, I tried to remember if I had ever heard about this mystery girl before. Then, it hit me. Andy had mentioned something about a blonde girl. She must be serious for Hoseok to casually bring her up in conversation. I wonder how long he’d been hiding her from the rest of us.

“Your girl, huh? And who might that be?”

Hoseok sighed, “I know it sounds crazy, but she’s a swimmer.”

Racking my brain, I tried to think of every blonde swimmer I knew of. MacKenzie Boyd was way too young, Rhonda Yara lived in Florida most of the year, and Brittney Powell was just not Hoseok’s type. That left Opal Simmons and Tove Alfson. They both lived in Colorado, both were fantastic swimmers, and both seemed like nice girls. Opal was the older of the two, so I was more inclined to believe that was who he was talking about, but this was all under the assumption that the girl was a professional swimmer.

“Do you remember Opal Simmons?”

I snorted. So I was right. Feeling good about myself, I nodded and told him that I did. She was pretty, but I remembered thinking she was unremarkable. She had been doing extremely well this season and swimming more than she ever had before. I had a good feeling about her run at this year’s Olympics. She had always swam in teams and this was her first time doing a solo season.

“How’d you meet her?” I asked, leaning against the metal railing across from the door.

“I went to go see Ozzie and she stopped by to talk to him for a few minutes. She took one look at me, smiled, and gave me her number. And you know I’m a sucker for a confident woman.”

“So you took her to the most expensive bar in Colorado Springs?” I joked.

Hoseok spluttered, “How’d you know about that?”

“Well international super spy,” I teased, “You blew your cover. Jin saw you and told Andy. Andy told me. I didn’t tell anybody.”

The swimmer groaned and I could not help but laugh at his expense. We were always like this. Teasing and joking around with one another. A few tender moments sprinkled in between. I remembered when people thought we were a couple simply because we were friends of the opposite sex, but I had never felt anything but sisterly love for the guy. We were always there for each other through thick and thin, and right now I was grateful for his crude sense of humor. Hoseok rarely took things seriously and I needed a bit of fun. It made my anxiety feel less scary.

“We had fun,” He defended. “She’s fucking awesome, man. You’re really going to like her. Next time you’re in town, bring your boy so we can go on a double date.”

“Will do.”

We had a momentary pause. That meant Hoseok was thinking. He tried to choose his words carefully when he was being serious, so I knew that meant we were going to actually start talking about the reason I called. He was far more easy going than I was, so I was sure Opal’s timidness did not bother him at all. I was the spaz of the group only being outdone by Andrea.

“Did he say why?” Hoseok finally asked.

I told him about what had happened this afternoon and the small moments before. The way he always stopped things before they could get any further. How kissing him sometimes felt like he was saying goodbye. How genuinely upset he was by my reaction to his constant pausing. Hoseok listened to everything before saying another word.

“Maybe he’s had something happen to him in the past,” Hoseok brought up. That was something I had not really considered before. “He just sounds a little scared and nervous. Not unwilling, just hesitant. You should talk to him about it. I mean really talk to him. That’s what I did with Opal and it made going at her pace seem less daunting.”

“So you don’t think I’m doing anything wrong?” I finally asked, voicing my fears from earlier. I could not tell Jimin that’s what I was afraid of, it felt too childish, but Hoseok was used to my ever present anxieties. “I really didn’t mean to invalidate him.”

Hoseok chuckled, “I think you’re doing just fine, babe. You just need to learn how to relax and let shit happen. He likes you. He told you he wants to have sex with you directly. Don’t let yourself ruin this, okay?”

I nodded, feeling a frog forming in my throat. It felt wrong to cry right now, but it was the most therapeutic way to handle how frustrated I was with myself. I was too old to act like this. Too strong and independent. This really should not hurt me the way that it does, and yet I could feel myself closing off again.

The door behind me opened and I startled, almost dropping my phone. Whipping around I saw Jimin standing there, no shirt and a pair of sweatpants hanging loosely around his hips. Dark hair a wild mess, he rubbed his eyes and tried his best to look more awake than he felt. My heart melted, some of the stress I felt moments before lessening. He was here. We were fine. I was just being overdramatic. I just needed to breathe.

“I have to get some sleep,” I told Hoseok, eyes never leaving Jimin’s body. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

“Talk to you then,” I hung up.

Jimin’s eyes searched my face and I could feel a few escaped tears on my cheeks. I felt small under his watchful gaze, but the gentleness in his eyes never wavered. I stood there stupidly, unable to move.

“Come back to bed,” His voice was soft. “I miss you.”

And because he made me behave like a good little lap dog, I crawled into that bed without protest. Pulling me into his arms, Jimin held me close and tight. I relaxed and let his body heat warm me up. I had not realized how cold I had gotten and shivered. Jimin kissed my nose and got comfortable.

“Don’t leave me,” He rasped, already falling back asleep. “Please?”

I almost cried again. He sounded so lost and defeated. Maybe Hoseok was right. Maybe something happened to him that made sex feel terrifying. What it could be I had no idea, but I hoped that with time he could help me understand. As desperately I wanted him to know me- I wanted to know him.

“I promise I won’t,” I whispered, kissing his chest.

His arms squeezed me gently before there was nothing but snores and the sound of the A/C in the room.

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Therapy Files 3: Twist the Knife (Carmy)

GIF credit: @mithrandirl

Summary: Carmy’s girlfriend (who he calls Darling) tells him it’s okay to cry after his first day of therapy. (944 Words) FLUFF.

Warnings: Swearing, comfort, hurt, emotional breakdown (crying), fem reader/lass who is a trauma surgeon, she/her pronouns, mention of Donna Berzatto, mention of Mikey Berzatto, mention of Natalie Berzatto, mention of mental and emotional abuse.

Notes: Thank you for reading and sharing! This is a work in the Therapy Files Series and will be tagged with #cb therapy files.

Sideblog for commentary and social stuff: @m-z-shoroi

Post-Day 1

I held it together after day 1 of therapy until we got back to the apartment.

I don't even remember the drive back. I can't remember if I ever looked up or if Darling tried to speak to me. I just blinked and was standing at the bathroom mirror, staring into a face much like my own but with terrified eyes, reddened cheeks, a reddened nose, and a fat lip bearing teeth marks. These oceans of blues and wisps of gray with spidery red blood vessels invading in from the corners of my eyes where a band of reflections grew, and grew, and grew until my eyes snapped shut, until I retreated to the dark quiet, and warm saltwater fell from them.

My teeth hurt, my chest hurt, my fingers ached from how tightly I was gripping the sink. Hurt so bad I thought they might snap under the pressure of my own muscles crushing my fingertips against unforgiving shitty fucking composite—I couldn’t have that; I need my hands to cook—but I couldn’t override my body to make it stop. The ache in my jaw was so intense that I waited for the searing pain of a tooth cracking because surely, one of them would go, right? This is the part of emotions I can’t stand: the lack of control. I had no control. My body was just doing what it wanted to without my consent, and the only choice I had in the matter was how many times I’d cuss out whatever made me like this for it.

Fuck you.

There. Have another one.

I'm not a crier. I don't fucking cry, okay? I couldn't, because if I did, Mikey or ma would twist the knife further or Nat would catch some heat trying to protect me from them or sometimes all of the above.  Why are you fucking crying, you baby? You're not a child. Stop fucking crying. Do you see what I did all day for all of you? Am I crying? Then you shouldn't be fucking crying either.

I hate seeing people cry. It twists something deep inside me, under my diaphragm, almost tucked up against my spine. And not because I want to fix it or make them feel better—really, I only have the energy to worry about Nat or Darling feeling better. I can do something for them. They don't reject me, so it can hurt, and I can try to fix it. No, I hate seeing people get to cry. I hate that they can sob like fucking children over the smallest shit and no one, least of all me, tells them that they're being fucking babies. I used to be a human too, you know? Why couldn't people treat me like that? Why do you get to cry, and I don't? Why do I got to hold my shit together?

"Carmy? Baby?”

Shit, and now Darling’s seen me.

I instinctively swiped away the stupid tears, turned my back to her, clawed for the words to explain to her that I was fine, she didn’t see anything. Reflexes baked into my being from too long a lifetime of being chastised for the act of being human. For daring to feel so much emotion that it’d trigger my body’s reflex to cry. That’s the thing—it’s so fucking human to do so, but no one’s ever treated me like a fucking human, have they? I’ve forever only been worthy of consideration when I served a purpose, I’ve forever been a means or a tool until Darling.

That’s the thing about trauma that they don’t tell you, by the way. They do tell you it’s gonna get worse when you try to get better. But how that happens? How worse is actually a thousand little things that all cut you up like glass shards? Nah, they don’t tell you that shit. You go headfirst in the deep end and get water down your throat and in your eyes and you don’t know which way is up and your legs cramp up and then, and then, and then… Sure, you get a better sense of all the shit you’ve survived, and much like the fleeting ten seconds after avoiding wrecking out on the side of the interstate where your heart slams into your throat because you realize how close to death you were, you spiral down into a pit of despair at how much deeper you’re in that you ever realized. You also get less tolerant to more damage. Shit starts to hurt because you’re not numb anymore. The tiniest shit starts to hurt. It’s maddening.

Darling spun me by my shoulders and clasped me in a hug. My hands planted on her ribs of their own accord, intending to push her away.

“Baby, it’s okay!” she hissed.

I froze.

“It’s okay to cry. I’m right here, Carmy. I got you.”

Her cold fingers wove into my hair, tucked my face into the crook of her neck, arm wrapped around my shoulders and yanked me in. She crushed me in a hug, and I caged her in my grip in response. It ripped something raw in my chest, being held so tightly, being held like she wanted me there. Like I wasn’t a waste of space or time or effort. I got you. I had a life ring, for once. I’m the best swimmer I know, but this time, I didn’t have to fight the tide. Darling would keep me from drowning. I clung to her, gasped in a breath, and—without my consent. Emotions never have consent—choked out a sob.

Darling allowed me to cry.

Tags: @jess248 @catharticconsolation @persymons @morgthemagpie @glitch0o0 @nox-is-thename @forgechildofheph @leminjelly @fridavacado @lumoslemon @cyarskj1899 @carmenberzattosgf

[ideas-4-stories]

Cross guild romance prompt:

When S-Hawk and S-Croc are first brought to the Guild or taken in, they both bond with their adult organic counterparts. But they actually really REALLY love Buggy.

He has that energy of Safe For Children, he's actually really really good with kiddos, especially ones with trauma. He really became the kinda person he wanted and needed when he was a lil'un. Buggy really likes kids, honestly, he just doesn't interact with them much, especially lately what with his newfound notoriety. Back in the East, at least, he could go relatively under cover and set up a circus event. Now, he's got his hands tied with options.

Crocodile and Mihawk are both surprised by this but don't particularly care. So what if the clown can make balloon animals and makes the boys actually smile and laugh? He's just a clown. Clowns do that. Whatever.

It only comes to a head when, late one evening, Mihawk goes to check on the boys when he senses a strange disturbance. Buggy beat him there. The swordsman watches from the doorway as Birdie (his own seraphim, name pending, nickname in the meantime) sits on the clown's lap, rubbing tears from his eyes. Angel (Croc's seraphim, name pending, nickname in the meantime) is wrapped up against the clown's chest. The three are in the rocking chair, Buggy holding both of the boys close, comforting them with hands in hair or petting backs. And he's singing softly to them. It's a language Mihawk has never heard before, to his knowledge. Though it DOES remind him of some of the seemingly senseless babble from Shanks when he drank far too much. He stays in the shadows, watching. Observing. Memorizing.

He refuses to acknowledge the warmth in his chest as anything other than mild heartburn.

<>

Crocodile is faced with a similar situation but very much different. It's midday for one. And there are no tears or need for comfort involved for another.

It was a cooler day, and he'd seen hide nor hair from the clown for more than a few hours. Truly, a horrific notion.

He ends up finding Buggy in the kitchen, hair in a messy bun and wearing an apron. The kids are with him as well, in oversized aprons. All three are a mess, laughing, flour and powdered sugar on her faces, aprons, in their hair. It's chaotic. It's loud. It's... happy.

Crocodile just watches for a bit, as the boys bounce and squeal over the dark chocolate and red velvet cake they made, Buggy gently walking them through piping designs. He chuckles when they make a mistake, nudges them with his hip and calls it "avant garde", waves off any concern. He's gentle with them as he guides tiny, deceptively soft little hands in loops and designs, laying out stencils and sifting powdered sugar to make shapes. It's cavity inducing.

Especially when Angel, hair held back with a headband decorated with frogs, looks up at Buggy and asks without hesitation, "Can we take some to Father and Papa, mama Bug?"

Crocodile tenses. His eyes go wide. Has the clown been coaching them, has he been-

Then he catches sight of Buggy blushing, staring wide eyed at Angel. "What did you call me, Angie?"

"Called you mama Bug. Why?"

Buggy kneels down, smiling softly despite the visible confusion. "Why did you call me that, gumdrop?"

Birdie chips in at that point, leaning to peek over his brother's shoulder. "Because you're Mama."

Buggy giggles, tucking a loose curl back. "I meant, where did you silly sweeties learn that?"

Both boys grin brightly. "Books! And that story book you read us all the time, the one with the princes and knights and dragons! Papa is the big dragon, and Father is the king!" They both turn blinding smiles at the clown. "And you're the queen! 'Cause the queen is nice and warm and fun and smart and pretty! And the queen is the princes' mama, so you're mama. Mamas are supposed to be nice and cozy and take care of us. Like you do! So you're mama!"

Buggy sniffles, smiling so fondly, so softly, it makes something in Crocodile thump roughly. He won't put a name to it. He refuses.

When Buggy cups the boys' cheeks, presses a kiss to their foreheads, the logia user turns on his heel and walks away.

<><>

Just. The seraphims up and deciding that the cross guild leaders are the parents and playing accidentally-on-purpose matchmakers. Mihawk and Crocodile angrily falling for the Clown because the introduction of children has opened a new face for him, a new perspective to view and they're so pissed about it. They don't even want to beat him up anymore. They lay awake at night thinking about him. They're so mad. They're feral.

The kids are just like "wow, our dads are dumb. We should help!"

Cue a series of absolutely wild shenanigans, and Buggy is just. So confused. Then so done. So tired. He needs a nap. Maybe an energy drink. Maybe both at once.

S-Hawk and S-Croco makes sense to bond with their adult counterparts or come to a mutual tolerance of each other. The seraphim children really REALLY love Buggy because he has that SAFE energy for kids. I like that headcanon that he’s really good with kiddos, indeed he became the person for children that he wanted when he was little bug.

Buggy must be scared of interacting with kids after becoming one of the Emperor of the Sea. Yeah, Buggy could be a ringmaster and other performers in a circus back in the East Blue.

Headcanon: Buggy can make the greatest balloon animals because why not?

Mihawk going to check on the boys and find Buggy beat him to it, the clown hugging them both and calming them both. Birdie and Angel (holy stars what cute nicknames, let me guess all three have to come to a decision on what S-Croco and S-Hawk’s names will truly be and the seraphims must agree on them) Then Buggy starts singing to them! Mihawk’s heart!

Love One Piece having different languages than the common one… Maybe the language that the clown is singing in the Wado’s original language! Or maybe Roger or another Roger Pirate could speak another language and that’s what Buggy is singing in? IDK

Crocodile facing a similar situation, but it’s happier and more fun because the kids and Buggy are making treats (When you wrote that Crocodile having seen Buggy more than a couple times and to Crocodile it was a horrifying notion… does that mean Crocodile was looking for Buggy!!!) That mafia boss finding Buggy in the kitchen with the children. Awwwwwwwwww

It’s chaotic fun for Buggy and the seraphims, and they are making dark chocolate and red velvet cake! That’s so fucking cute! Squealing and wanting to kick my feet in the air of how cute the imagines I see are!!! Buggy walking them through piping the best he can, telling them that their mistakes don’t matter, and the cake still looks amazing. Awwwwwwwwwwwwwwww

How Angel (love the headband decorated with frogs, you know that was once Buggy’s headbands or Buggy bought it for him) shocks both adults because he calls Crocodile - Father, Mihawk - Papa, and Buggy - Mama Bug! (I don't think it's only because Angel called Buggy - Mama) So, does Birdie call Mihawk - Father and Crocodile - Papa?

Crocodile thinking Buggy taught him to do that, but Buggy is as confused Crocodile is (Calling the Seraphim Gumdrop, that’s a cute nickname) Birdie agreeing with his brother about calling Buggy - Mama Bug and they learned it from books. (I read like Birdie was the one saying it, so Papa Crocodile is the big dragon, Father Mihawk being the king and Mama Buggy as the queen)

Buggy being emotional about this is so him. Crocodile’s heart thumping against his chest while Buggy is pressing a kiss on their foreheads. Going back to making the cake with Angel and Birdie as Crocodile leaves the kitchen, probably going to where Mihawk is.

Love that the seraphims are accidentally-on-purpose matchmakers and deciding the cross leaders are their parents. Love how Mihawk and Crocodile are anger that they are falling for the clown. Love that those two are lying awake and thinking about Buggy.

The kids thinking their dada are dumb and think everything will be well if they help. In the end everything was fine… but in the middle? Holy stars what did those two do? Yeah, Buggy will be needing bot an energy drink and a nap, so confused and done with what’s happening.

[autistichalsin]

What are some of Halsin's flaws, in your opinion?

Halsin's flaws, personality and others, major and minor (note that some of these are a bit circumstantial):

-He can't control his baser/animal instincts, which comes out in his wildshape issues. This corresponds with bloodlust in his animal form.

-He isn't suited for Druidic leadership, as shown at the Grove, which led to disastrous consequences.

-By his own admission, he focuses too hard on the tasks important to him and lets other ones fall by the wayside.

-Due to the above, he struggles tremendously with balancing conflicting obligations; he didn't bother much with the Grove when he was trying to solve the Shadow Curse, abandoned the Grove when the player showed up (though of course that was also due to his trauma and hatred of the Archdruid role), and if romanced to Karlach, is one of the only ones who refuses to go to Avernus with her, feeling that he and he alone can start the commune for the children and their needs are greater than hers.

-He has a self-sacrificial view about what being "good" is, and feels that he has to be unhappy if he's helping; he let himself suffer as Archdruid for 100 years rather than find someone else to take the role, and in the ending, he tries to break up with a romanced player to start his commune both because of his possible abandonment issues and because he doesn't see room for his own happiness when he's trying to help people.

-As I just mentioned, he does have abandonment issues to a degree; if the player dumps him in the ending, he says he knows nothing lasts forever. If the player suggests the party go their separate ways immediately after the battle, he says it was always destined to be so, but it stings nonetheless. He is shocked when the player comes to rescue him from Orin if taken.

-While he is an extremely kind and forgiving person, he has limits, and once those have been crossed, he gets very vengeful (I.E. everyone involved in his captivity with the goblins, or saying he'd like to "do the same" to whoever killed and stuffed a young bear for decoration in one shop in Baldur's Gate).

-He misreads social cues fairly often.

-He seems better able to assert his boundaries to strangers than to his friends and loved ones, I.E., not having much of a negative reaction to a Lolthsworn Drow threatening to sell him back into slavery.

-Because nature is his way of understanding the world, he struggles to understand things through any other lens. He has little interest in other things that can't be considered part of either nature or his Druidic duties.

-He takes things very literally at times, I.E. the phrase "you can say that again."

-He doesn't bother trying to hide when he doesn't like someone (I.E. if the player has incredibly low approval with him).

-He can sometimes be insensitive on accident, such as saying "imagine the horrors" when they're in a tadpoling facility, to Wyll in particular, though he does apologize right away when called on it.

-He is slow to true anger, but sometimes quick to annoyance, at least where strangers are concerned. (This is more so the case if they question him).

-He infamously doesn't trust Drow, and while this is justified in the case of Lolth-sworn Drow, he is initially mistrustful of the player if they are a Seldarine Drow too (though later he shows far more trust of Seldarine than Lolth Drow).

-His objections to some of the evil things encountered in the game are their unnaturalness more than their evilness, fitting with the Druidic belief that evil is as much a part of the world as good. He is more upset at how unnatural the tadpoles are than anything, at least at first, and if the Dark Urge shows off the Slayer form in front of him, he says it's "most unnatural. Most foul," and says that it only serves death/murder. (It's how unnatural and unbalanced it is that it bothers him more than the form being a giant monster, basically.)

-He has a huge case of hero worship to the player, which is why he falls in love with them almost immediately after they break the Shadow Curse, and has feelings for them even sooner than that.

-He despises turnips.

[nadvs]

Hi Nadia,how are you?

I am SO intrigued by HBD and there are so many things I’d like to see and to address,like :

- does she go to college? if she does,how are they gonna handle the distance?

-does he work for Ward?

-first date?

-THE PROPOSAL

-finding out she’s pregnant AND TELLING HIM😭

-first house?

-how many kids?

-do they get a dog/more than one?

-valentine together🥹🥹

-HIS BIRTHDAY

sorry I just love em babies too much

HI ANGEL omg trust me, there’s no need to be sorry!! i’m so happy that you love them because i enjoy writing about them so much 😭💘

drabbles from the home before dark universe

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

ᝰ rafe will never forget that she suffered through a terrible, abusive relationship and so he makes it his mission to give her a happy life, to make sure she always feels cherished, to make sure she’s never reminded of her ex. he showers her with love and takes her out to the priciest restaurant for their first date and it becomes their go-to place for special occasions and holidays like valentine’s.

ᝰ she goes to college off the island and around the same time, rafe starts working for his dad’s business. it’s tough for them because they grow to be a bit codependent and rafe hates not having her close by, especially on bad days when he’s not confident in himself at work. rafe never really stops craving his father’s approval and he never really stops being the kind of person who prefers to be distracted from overwhelming feelings, so she talks to him on the phone until he falls asleep many times. and when a storm comes in, she invites him to stay at her apartment or she goes to see him, just so he’s not alone. storms bother him for the rest of his life but she’s there every time.

ᝰ he proposes on the beach they spent their childhood on. it’s after he takes her to their favorite restaurant then he says they should go down to the shore “to skip stones” like when they were kids and he tells her he’ll find the flat ones for her so she’s standing by the water, laughing as she tosses pebbles into the sea, reaching back without looking at him. after a few turns, she reaches for another stone but feels his hand instead and looks behind her to see him on one knee. he’s so nervous that he forgets to even properly ask. he just holds out the ring and says “please say yes”

ᝰ their first house has a beautiful view of the sea from the bedroom. rafe sees it in her eyes that she falls in love with the place as soon as she sees this view and he knows he needs to buy this house for her. to him, her happiness genuinely becomes more important than his own. he never knew he could be a selfless person, but she brings it out him because of the way she loves him unconditionally.

ᝰ rafe gets a rottweiler when they move in. he has to go out of town for work sometimes and he knows his wife has a fear of home invasions from her past trauma so he wants them both to have the comfort of a having a guard dog just in case. she likes to joke that the dog is just like rafe - protective and vicious when the situation calls for it, but very sweet and affectionate with who he loves.

ᝰ she gets pregnant about a year into their marriage. it took a while, so she takes a bunch of tests to be totally sure. they visit his mom’s grave every other sunday and she decides to tell him while they’re with her. they both talk to her, sharing details about their lives, and she says “i hope i’m as good of a mom as you. we’ll see how i do in nine months” and she looks to rafe with teary eyes and a small smile and he is so taken aback and so happy and it means so much to him that she told him there, in front of his mom, so she could be part of the moment too. he cries tears of joy that day (and on both days his babies are born)

ᝰ they have two kids: a daughter, then a couple years later, a son. both of them inherit rafe’s dimples and every time one of rafe’s children beams up at him, he sees his mom’s smile. he parents the way his mother did. and whenever it’s even just a little rainy, he doesn’t let anyone get in a car.

ᝰ rafe always feels so seen and known by his wife, so when his birthday comes along, he’s not surprised at all that she knows exactly how he wants to celebrate. she loves to spoil him as much as he loves to spoil her. one of his favorite gifts from her is a watch with the dates of their children’s births engraved on the back.