#could be now i should actually respond to inbox messages for forever ago

[mitamicah]

It is not often I can stay away from sharing the joy of music and songwriting at an open mic event - today was one of those nights unfortunately...

[bwabys-scenarios]

(Hey thanks you answering my question)

I understand what you mean and you don’t have to write for everybody in the show but I think if you don’t feel comfortable or like a certain character you should say something or put it in your bio because not to long ago it only say that you write for hunter x hunter and maybe people will stop ask I think people thinking that you write for all the characters because you never say at first that you didn’t write for them.

Another thing I noticed is when someone is trying to say sorry to you and saying what they did wrong and asking for forgiveness and even saying you don’t have to forgive them you straight up didn’t forgive them and then started talking how they were fat which I think is wrong and I looked over some of your other responses to people and you were just plain rude and I think you’re not really understanding that maybe they were just trying to apologize.

And yes I do understand getting really bad text messages or just messages from people telling you to die or other horrible things you should just close request and you’re messages all together and just write what you wanna write because no one is telling you to keep them open and like you say your already thinking about it so just do it and please don’t leave I really love your work 

See its messages like these that just blow my mind, like you must be an actual child or just plain stupid.

If you have a problem with me responding rudely to someone that SENT ME DEATH THREATS then idk cry about it? Like fuck I’m not a saint. Imagine being death threats over fanfiction, you’d probably be pissed off too.

Also, the person who “apologized” sent a message an HOUR before saying they wish I died when I was sick. The message was IN THE POST I MADE. Maybe instead of victim blaming, find something better to do with your time.

Also, I didn’t call them fat maliciously. Fat isn’t a bad word, and I was POINTING OUT HYPOCRISY. They called me fat maliciously, and honestly if they can’t take the heat they should stop sending me awful shit. If they don’t like me pointing out that they are ALSO fat(IM FAT), then maybe they shouldn’t use fat as an insult and send me death threats?? Idk if you just can’t properly read, because holy shit I was not insulting them, I was just saying we WERE BOTH FAT so that their insults also applied to them. Idk if I can explain this any clearer, if you can’t understand find someone in your life to explain.

I don’t forgive them because they aren’t sorry. They sent me more awful messages an HOUR before they sent the apology. Like I’m sorry but if you’re still sending me death threats an hour before you apologize I’m not gonna think you’re very sorry. They aren’t and never will be forgiven. If they are truly sorry they will LEAVE ME ALONE.

You’re right, I could just close my inbox forever, and fuck I’m thinking about it because of stupid people like you. You’re trying to paint me as some big asshole when I responded “meanly” TO SOMEONE THAT SENT ME DEATH THREATS. Are you insane?? Ofc I’m not going to be nice to someone like that. Wtf is wrong with you, seriously. You have no sympathy, and honestly now I’m assuming you’re just the same person that sent me death threats. I’m gonna block you, so 🙏

In conclusion, fuck anyone that even remotely defends the person that sent me death threats. Weird as hell!! I’m not responding to messages like this anymore.?

[agent-yolk-writes]

You're My Dad! Boogie Woogie Woogie! (Diavolo & Reader)

Ever wanted to call Diavolo your dad? No? Well too bad, I have the perfect fic for you down below!

AO3 Version Here!

If you like my writing, please let me know! My inbox is empty and it's hungry for OM content.

Bold = Diavolo's text

Italicized and Indented = MC's text

Like every natural disaster, it came without a warning.

It started off like every other day. Wake up, go to RAD, do student council duties, go home, sleep, repeat. Of course, there would be an occasional (read: frequent) occasion outside of the standard norm, but today was not one of those times.

“Here you go!” You handed Diavolo your latest finished report. “I’ve even separated the approved and rejected request forms and sorted them alphabetically for easier reading.” You said proudly. Sure enough, the Prince quickly thumbed through one of the piles and made a noise in his throat that sounded positive.

Next thing you know, he gives you one of his iconic smiles. “Excellent work as always, MC.” He tells you. “Your help is always appreciated! Thanks to you, we’ve made a tremendous dent in all this paperwork. We couldn’t have done it without you.”

The praise he was pouring on you felt so good. You try not to visibly react to it, but your brain dumped a massive pool of serotonin from his words alone. Hell, you can even feel your cheeks warming up. It always felt good to be praised by your peers, but there was something about the way Diavolo praises you that fuels you to work hard for the next one. While you were chasing that high and not wanting to be rude you simply replied with,

“Thanks, dad.”

And all of Devildom seemed to freeze over. You could hear Lucifer’s pen dropping to the floor behind you while Mammon choked on something somewhere else in the room. There were no sounds of papers being written or even talking. All eyes landed on you as the reality of what you said started to sink in.

Oh fuck, did you call the Prince of Literal Hell your Dad? Well, he’s such a huge guy and acts almost exactly like those kind-hearted fathers you always see on social media in your realm. It doesn’t help that your actual dad kinda sucks, so maybe this is projection at work. Sadly, the damage has already been done. You could see Diavolo’s face turn from confusion to amusement in a matter of seconds.

“I...I…” Your already red face got darker when you heard the faint snickering coming from Barbatos. Fearing that your rapid heart bursting through your chest, you can only manage to squeak a “Bye!” Before dashing out of the building and out of the academy.

So here you are, holed up in your honorary room at Purgatory Hall while your D.D.D. continues to blow up on the nightstand next to the bed. You couldn’t go back to the HOL, not immediately at least. You felt so embarrassed that you called your housemates’s semi-boss your father.

At least the residents at Purgatory Hall understood your human err. Solomon did give you some shit about it, but that was a given because, well, it’s Solomon. If he wasn’t teasing you about this, then you would have bigger fish to fry in Hell. Simeon was the most sympathetic person about your current predicament while Luke was just happy that you’re hanging out for a few hours. He can complain about the demons later.

You just hope this shitshow cools down soon. Maybe a nap will calm you down.

~

Hours have passed. Still afraid to look at your phone, your only indicator of time passing was Simeon coming up to your room with a tray of tonight’s dinner with a side dish almost overflowing with cookies courtesy of Luke. Bless these angels, both of them.

And sure enough, your phone stopped vibrating non-stop. Before you could deduce that the battery died, a singular buzz proved otherwise. Damn it.

Still, you couldn’t avoid the brothers forever. They’ll probably kick up another storm of messages since you haven’t replied to them initially. With a defeated sigh, you grabbed your phone and unlocked it. Let's see...143 messages in the HOL+Royals group chat, 103 messages in the HOL group chat, 87 messages from Mammon, 15 messages from Asmo, 10 messages from Lucifer, 5 messages from Levi, 1 message from Satan, 2 messages from Diavolo-

...2 messages from Diavolo. Sent a minute ago. Welp, no use avoiding him either since he’s the sole reason you’re even in Hell in the first place.

MC! Are you alright? You sure ran out of the room quite fast. I didn’t know humans could reach those speeds.

I apologize if I offended you somehow.

With a big gulp, you started writing back.

im okay! Hunkering down at Purgatory atm

if anything, I should be apologizing to you lol

Five minutes passed before he texted back.

That’s good to hear! (smiling devimoji)

Hopefully the brothers haven’t bothered you too much from this.

you have no idea.

(gurgle devimoji)

I have to say, you certainly caused a stir. I couldn’t help but wonder about something.

MC, do you see me as a father figure?

uh, no? If anything, I see you as a bother figure

cuz your always bothering me

God damn you, brain! Think before you speak for fuck’s sake! Quick, do something that'll lessen the blow!

lol

Nailed it!

(hehe devimoji)

I see.

I have been called many things, good and bad, because of my position. Being called dad is a new one.

It’s certainly not...unpleasant.

He’s going to kill you at this rate. You know he will.

ill make sure not to do it again. sorry chief

tho im sure i caused a riot during the meeting

No worries!

And you left it like that. Your mind was pulling blanks on how to respond. You could figure it out as you reply to the others, but you really don’t have the mental fortitude to face them now that Diavolo is embracing his new moniker happily.

And of course, think about the demon prince and he shall appear. Again. What he sent made you groan into your pillow.

How about this weekend we can talk about what human fathers normally do over some sandwiches and tea?

...that sounds nice

Great! Looking forward to it!

(smiling devimoji)

Even though this whole ordeal was embarrassing, you couldn’t help but smile at the prospect of your future meetup. While your actual dad had no redeemable qualities about him, there were always memes.

Curling up in your bed, you begin your hunt across the Demon Web with a VPN that lets you access human websites in order to bring your A-Game this weekend.

Maybe this turned out to be a good thing, after all.

[lunar-jimin]

i can be temptation, you can be my sin

Pairing: Jimin x Fem!Reader

Rating: 18+

Word Count: 4.5k

Genre: smut, tiny side of angst and fluff, office!au (not the TV show), coworkers!au

Warnings: unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), dom!Jimin, sub!reader, spanking, fingering, semi-public sex, dirty talk, degradation, reader sends nudes

Summary: Between bragging about his prolific sex life and his horrific design ideas, Jimin has managed to make your work life a living hell. Then one little accident sends you hurtling towards him, and as hard as you try, you can’t seem to stop yourself. 

A/N: This is a commission for @ppersonna​ for @ficswithluv​‘s ChangesWithLuv project dedicated to raising money for BLM. I’m so sorry this fic took forever to write (I’m not sure why), but I hope that you enjoy it! A huge shout-out to my lovely beta-reader, @jinterlude​. She’s the best!

| m.list |

“Jimin…” a groan tumbles out of you, “that shade of yellow is-“

“Bright and comforting?”

“-awful.”

His thick lips curve into a pout, eyes doing little to conceal his mock hurt. Exasperation runs through your body, grasping your brain in its clutches. Your entire week has been filled with Jimin’s progressively hideous design ideas for a book cover, to the point you’re beginning to wonder how he got hired at all. The piss-yellow mock-up in front of you is just another straw in the stack that is going to break your back.

“What?” he looks confused, “You said you wanted something eye-catching, and I would have to say this is pretty darn, eye-catching.”

“It’s blinding is what it is. Maybe if we toned it back a bit…” your eyes drift over the design, horror twisting in your gut.

You want to cry. A week ago, your boss had enthusiastically paired you with Jimin to design a book cover for an up and coming YA author, claiming the two of you were the best designers she had, even promising the both of you a promotion if things went well. You aren’t sure what designs Jimin had produced in the past, because what he was bringing to the table now wasn’t much better than a shitty college club poster.

Jimin didn’t make for great company either. Sure he had legs that went for miles, and a face that would outshine angels, but his mouth was filthy. If the two of you weren’t bickering over fonts and hex codes, you were stuck listening to him brag about how loud he could make a girl scream. What’s worse is that while your brain was logical enough to know that Jimin was no good for you, your body had other ideas. As a result, you often went home after a long day, frustrated in more ways than one.

With a little luck- and quite a bit of compromising- you manage to make it to five ‘o’clock without murdering anyone. You manage to talk Jimin down off the yellow in exchange for completing the pitch presentation by yourself. Presentations are time-consuming and tedious, but it’s better than being out of a job because Jimin is set on making the cover look like a neon highlighter.

A half an hour later, you're collapsing on your soft couch, ready to do absolutely nothing for the rest of the weekend. A sigh of relief carries an iota of the stress out of your body as you sink back into the welcoming cushions. You grimace as the tension in your neck became apparent, and you feel the growing ball of angst you have for Jimin tighten. You were going to send him the bill if you had to go to a chiropractor.

In an attempt to move on from your hectic week and into your relaxing weekend, you wander to the kitchen, searching for the merlot you have yet to open. The tall green bottle greets you from the counter. You find a glass and watch as the red liquid quickly fills it. You savor a long sip as you let your mind stray away from the thoughts of work and stress and into notions of self-care and relaxation.

An hour later, having eaten a frozen pizza, you find yourself soaking down into the hot bath suds. The heat begins to draw the ache out of your sore muscles. Once again, Jimin flashes through your mind, coupled with resentment. Your eyes prickle at the thought, sick and tired of Jimin living in your mind rent-free. Why is he preoccupying your brain instead of Seokjin, the cute cook you matched with on Tinder?

While you had yet to meet in person, you and Seokjin had hit off right away when he opened with the cheesiest pick-up line you’d ever heard. He worked at a five-star restaurant a few blocks from your office, but you’d never met in person. That didn’t mean that you hadn’t had a few scandalous conversations. You weren’t usually one for sexting, but Seokjin’s way with words left you little choice.

Eager to take Jimin off your mind, you grab your phone from the side of the tub, quickly opening your messages. You’re much too impatient for small talk, so in the interest of sparking some saucy dialogue, you take a few snaps of your bubble-covered nude body. You suck in a breath as you hit send, anxious for your reaction. It wasn’t the first time you had sent him a nude photo, but it didn’t make you any less nervous. Seokjin was one of the most attractive men you had ever had the privilege of laying eyes on, and it was only natural for you to question your appearance in comparison to his. He would always reassure you, though, flattering you with compliments, both sultry and sweet.

When he doesn’t respond fifteen minutes, a knot forms in your stomach. What if he didn’t like them? What if he was seeing someone else? What if he lost interest? You check your messages with hurried concern. What you find on your screen mortifies. In your haste to tease Seokjin, you had accidentally sent the photos to the last person you texted: Jimin. Worse yet, the little grey “read” sits just beneath the last picture. As you stare at the screen with abject horror, a little speech-bubble pops-up. Your stomach twists in knots, anticipating of what he might say striking you with fear.

The Office Brat: if you wanted a piece of me baby girl, all you had to do was ask 20:33

You suck in a breath when he immediately follows the text with a picture of his own. He’s shirtless, lip between his teeth as he grabs his prominent erection through grey sweatpants. You can’t help the whine that slips out of your mouth at the image. You try to ignore the heat that rushes to your core as your legs rub together. When your senses finally return to you, you drop your phone on the bath mat before sinking into the water, leaving only your face out. The photo is still seared into your brain, taunting you with his delicious abs and what turned out to be a healthy sized dick.

You immediately resolve to forget it ever happened. You spend the rest of the weekend attempting to distract yourself through a binge of every cheesy rom-com you can find on Netflix. You sent Jimin a quick text, informing him that the photos weren’t actually for him. He hadn’t responded, and you didn’t know if you should be relieved or not. It certainly didn’t aid the dread building in your stomach at the thought of having to face him again on Monday.

When you walk into the office two days later, you’re relieved to find that Jimin seemed nowhere to be found. You pray that he actually had an iota of shame and quit out of humiliation. Your hopes are crushed when not five minutes later, you notice him prancing toward your cubicle, his ever-present smirk plastered across his face. When he reaches you, he plops down in an extra desk chair, arms crossed across his chest, eyes looking you up and down. You can’t help but shiver at the knowledge that he knows precisely what you look like underneath your work clothes.

“What do you want, Jimin?” you sigh.

“Haven’t I made that obvious, baby?” He grins. “I want you.”

You roll your eyes.

“Jimin, what happened this weekend was an accident,” you give him a firm glare, “so no matter how much you claim to want me, I want nothing to do with you.:

He raises his eyebrow, eyes locked on yours, before standing and walking to you. His breath is warm on your neck as he leans over to whisper in your ear. You clench your thighs in an attempt to extinguish the heat beginning to burn in between them.

“We’ll see about that, now won’t we, baby girl?”

He pulls away with a smirk, before turning to head to his desk. Your eyes trail to his ass as he leaves, only worsening the situation in your underwear. You silently vow to yourself not to fall for his tricks. You have more self-respect than to allow yourself to be yet another notch in Park Jimin’s bedpost.

Brushing thoughts of your troublesome coworker from your mind, you turn back to your bright computer screen, determined to lose yourself in your work. Your eyes widen when you find an email from Jimin taunting you in your inbox. Heart pounding fast, you click on it, half afraid to find another nude of his (it wouldn’t be beyond him). Instead of a naked Jimin, a PDF with the details for the cover design presents itself. You’re taken aback. Not only had Jimin swapped the yellow for soft coral, but he practically redesigned the entire thing. Scrolling through, you’re embarrassed to admit that it was nearly as good, if not better, then some of your best works.

You immediately realize that this means he’s been pulling your leg for over a week. A groan escapes you, and your head falls forward, smashing into your keyboard. Of course, he was a fucking amazing graphic artist; you shouldn’t have expected anything less. Fury floods down your spine as it dawns on you that it was all a trick to get out of doing the PowerPoint. Now you were stuck making an entire presentation, just because Jimin had pretended to love piss-yellow.

It takes every ounce of your self-control not to march to his desk and strangle him. White anger flashes in front of your eyes, resentment growing to cover every waking thought in your brain. When you finally calm enough to rationalize that murder isn’t going to get you anywhere, you decide that your best course of action is to avoid him until the day of the two of you are scheduled to present to the board.

The world isn’t being kind to you today, because when you finally head to the break room for lunch, you immediately run into your new worst enemy.

“What’s got your panties in a knot now, love?”

You glare at him, not trusting yourself not to stab him with your salad fork. He smirks in response, before turning to leave. At the last second, he turns back to you.

“Have fun with that PowerPoint.”

You want to scream.

“Jimin, I swear to god, you little shit, I’m gonna-”

“You’re gonna what? Spank me?” His cheeky grin widens. “You know, baby, I’m usually a dom, but if it meant feeling your sweet pussy, I’d definitely be a sub.”

You are lucky that no one else is around to hear his words because you are mortified enough. Red creeps across your face as Jimin winks at you. When he finally leaves, you collapse back onto the counter, trying to get a grip on your surroundings. You swear to high heaven that you’ve never hated someone so much in your life, yet feel so attracted to them at the same time. As infuriated as you are with him, you are even more infuriated with your inability to control your body’s reaction to him.

Why did he have to know exactly what to say to soak your panties? Why was he so hellbent on getting you to sleep with him? Why did you ever have to be assigned to him in the first place? These questions plagued your mind as the week trickled slowly on. Your anger with Jimin was beginning to be diluted with anxiety about your upcoming presentation. No part of you looked forward to standing in front of the company board to make a potential career-changing pitch with the person you hated most in the world. Not to mention public speaking made you want to hide under a rock and never come out.

Thankfully, Jimin is kind enough to offer to do most of the talking- even if his original deal included a blow job- but it also meant you had less control if things started to go south. By the time Friday rolled around, you’re shitting yourself with fear. Jimin does his best to calm you down as you sit in hard plastic chairs outside the boardroom, waiting to be called in.

“Look, we’ll do fine. You made an amazing presentation, and I’m pretty brilliant at charming people if I do say so myself.”

He reaches over and gives your hand a small squeeze. You’re just nervous enough to offer him a small smile. For what it’s worth, he wasn’t terrible at comforting people.

“Thanks, Jimin. I’m sure everything will go great.”

Everything did not go great. In fact, it went very, very badly. Somewhere out there, someone must have hexed you because that’s the only reason you can think of that would explain why you placed Jimin’s original yellow design in the slideshow instead of his new one. You feel terrible. Not only have you fucked up in front of the entire company, but you’ve put both of your jobs on the line.

As soon as the meeting ended, you rushed off to the bathroom. You already embarrassed yourself enough as it is, you don’t need everyone to see you cry too. Tears roll down your face as you sit on the toilet, praying for the sudden end of your existence.

You had one job and somehow you had managed to fuck it up. You managed to ruin your career. You’re going to end up jobless. Broke. Destitute.

You’re jolted out of your thoughts by a knock at the door.

“Doll? Are you in there?”

Jimin’s voice is soft and comforting, and if you weren’t so afraid of humiliating yourself, you would have gladly welcomed his arms around you. But you are, so you try to stifle your sobs in an attempt to make him go away.

“Doll? I know you’re in there. I can hear you crying,” he sighs, “Please just let me in. I just want to talk.”

A sigh escapes your lips as you debate your options. If he already knows you’re crying, what difference will it make if he sees you? You stand up from your seat on the toilet, make a quick attempt at cleaning up your ruined makeup, and hesitantly open the door to let him inside.

He immediately takes you in his arms, closing the door behind him. The feeling of his body wrapped around yours only serves to induce more tears, and you find yourself crying into his shirt collar.

“I’m so, so sorry, Jimin,” you hiccup, “I don’t know what happened. I don’t know how I used that one. I’m so sor-”

“It’s okay, baby.”

You pull away to look at his eyes.

“What? How can you say that? I ruined the presentation, and we’ll be lucky if they want us to come back to work tomorrow.”

“They loved it.”

“What?”

���They loved it. They thought it was bright and innovative and really demonstrated that we understood design enough to push its limits.”

You look at him in shock. They loved it. They thought it was great. Your job was safe. You weren’t going to be fired. You may even receive a promotion.

“Feel better, doll?” He smiles down at you.

For once in your life, you return his smile, while shaking your head in affirmation.

“Well, then…”

You’re still smiling but suddenly unsure of what to do. Jimin’s hands are still on your waist, and you hated how aware of them you’re becoming. He seems to notice at the same time and quickly pulls them away.

“I have a question.” His voice is soft and shaky, and his eyes shift from side to side, seemingly unable to focus on you.

“What?”

“Why do you hate me so much?”

You’re taken aback. Jimin, who was usually so confident and larger than life, is now standing before you, small and meek, like an underfed puppy begging for scraps.

“I, I don’t hate you, Jimin.”

“But you must,” his voice is curt, “You never flirt back with me, yet I see you tease Hoseok all day long. You never laugh at my jokes. You never praise my work. As soon as I come anywhere near you, you close up. You snap at me, and you have no patience with me. You avoid me at all costs. So let me ask you again: why do you hate me?”

This time, instead of avoiding eye contact, he stares at you like he’s trying to read your soul.

“I really don’t hate you, Jimin.”

He raises his eyebrow.

“I just don’t want you to hurt me.”

He looks genuinely confused at your statement.

“How could I possibly hurt you?”

“The same way you hurt all those other girls.”

“What other girls?” His voice rises with defense.

“You know, the ones you sleep with in bathrooms, only to leave them broken-hearted when you never so much as glance their way again? The one’s you brag about fucking every chance you get until I want to slam my head into a brick wall? The ones that prove you’re nothing but a narcissistic fuckboy whose only goal in life is to get his dick wet? Those are the girls I’m talking about.”

Jimin looks shocked before his face morphs into an angry scowl, eyes heated and alert.

“That’s what you really think about me? That I’m a no-good player who uses girls for their bodies? Do you really think I trick girls into sleeping with me? Because you're wrong. They know what they’re getting into when they agree to restroom rendezvouses, but they always seem to convince themselves that they can convince me that I should be in a relationship with them. That’s not my fault. I would never sleep with someone under false pretenses. And I bragged about them because I wanted you to like me! Do you not get that? I don’t ever try this hard to get anybody to sleep with me, but I like you. I like you a lot, and this whole time you just thought I was a misogynistic fuckboy because you never cared to get to know me better.”

Jimin is seething, like a dog that went feral. His chest rises with heavy breaths as he backs you into the wall, eyes staring down yours. You let out a small whimper when he leans into your ear, hot breath ghosting your neck.

“If you think I’m such a fuckboy, then a fuckboy is what you are going to get.”

Before your brain can properly register his words, his lips are covering yours in a desperate kiss. Despite your lack of cognizance, you respond immediately, lips moving against his as your arms wrap around his neck, pulling him into you. His hands ghost down your side before he grabs your ass with a rough squeeze, eliciting a whine from your mouth.

He flips you around before bending you over the sink, eyes holding yours in the mirror reflection.  

“I think you’ve been a bad girl, don’t you agree? Leaving me with blue balls just because you think you’re better than me.”

Words fail you, so you nod instead. His hand slips under your skirt, softly massaging your ass.

“Don’t you think Daddy needs to punish you?”

You whimper, eyes struggling to hold his in your shared reflection. His gaze was burning with lust and fiery.

“I need you to use your words, baby.”

“Yes, daddy, I need to be punished.”

He grinned before flipping up your skirt to reveal the supple curve of your ass to his waiting gaze.

“Fuck, baby, do you know how long I’ve stared at this ass walking away from me, trying not to pop a boner in front of the whole office?”

He grabbed a rough handful.

“So long, baby, much too long. I think ten should suffice. Count for me.”

“Okay, daddy.” You whine.

“Say ‘red’ if it gets to be too much.”

“Yes, daddy.”

The first spank sent shocks running through you. While you expected the pain, you hadn’t anticipated how hard he would hit you, or how the contrast of his warm palm and cool rings would send pleasure singing through your body.

“O-one.”

The word barely made it out of your mouth, your brain hazy with lust.

The subsequent slap on the opposite cheek once again jolts you, and you fall forward, bracing your hands on the cold porcelain sink before you.

“Two.”

By the time he made it to five, tears had begun to well in your eyes, and you were sure your ass was painted a nice shade of crimson. By the time he made it to ten, tears had streaked your cheeks as moans and whimpers left your mouth alongside your garbled counting.

Jimin takes a moment to step back to admire his handiwork, his smirk only widening as he takes in his handprint bruised into your ass.

“Holy shit, baby, you’re so hot. You took your punishment so well. Look at how much of a good girl you are.”

Even in your hazy state, you beamed at his praise.

“Thank you, daddy.”

“I think you deserve a reward, baby girl.”

You nod vigorously at that, eager to feel him finally inside you.

“What do you want, baby? Use your words.”

“Your fingers, daddy, please.”

In an attempt to convey your desperation, you grind your hips into his crotch.

“Patience, baby girl. Where do you want them?”

“In my pussy, daddy. Please. I’m so wet for you.” Your sentence ends with a light sob, the need for him overwhelming you.

“Ask and you shall receive.”

With that, he pulls your panties to the side as he cautiously rubs his pointer finger up and down your soaked slit, before slipping inside.

“Fuck, baby, your dripping. Did spanking you turn you on that much? Is my baby girl that much of a pain slut?”

“Yes, daddy. I’m a pain slut just for you.”

He adds a second finger, and your head drops between your shoulders as he begins to move his digits in and out of you at a quick but intentional pace. Moans fall from your lips, and you let out a sharp squeal when he crooks his fingers and brushes against your g-spot.

“Fuck, daddy, right there.”

He quickens his pace, rubbing you perfectly over and over again as he brings you closer to the point of no return.

“Shit, baby, I’m so hard right now. Your pussy is so tight and wet around my fingers; I just want to sink my cock into you.”

“Please, daddy, I want your cock too. I want you to cum inside me. Fuck, I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna-“

Words fail you as you are sent hurtling into your orgasm, waves of euphoria crashing down around you. Your body is shaking as you collapse against the sink.

Jimin lets out a groan at your fucked-out state, removing his hand from your pussy and bringing it to his lips to taste you. He lets out a moan as he does, freehand going to the front of his pants to rub his prominent erection through the black fabric.

After you recover enough to stand, you turn around and replace his hand with your own, pussy clenching at how big he was.

“Will you fuck me now, daddy?” You look up at him under your lashes, and his head falls back at your mock innocence, a light whimper escaping his lips. He tilts his head back up to look at you, hand coming to grab your waist to pull you to his lips.

You taste yourself on his tongue as your hands come to play with his hair, tugging on the strands. He ruts up into you, desperation getting the better of him. He pulls away, revealing his swollen lips and hazy eyes.

“Fuck yeah, I’ll fuck you now, baby girl.” He makes quick work of his belt zipper, shoving his pants and boxers down just enough to let out his cock and balls. The tip is an angry red, beautifully contrasted with the white of his dress shirt. Your mouth waters as you take in its wide girth and slight curve. You’re desperate to taste it, but right now there were more important matters at hand.

You drop your panties, before hopping up on the edge of the sink. Jimin gives his cock a few short tugs before lining up with your dripping entrance. You let out soft moans as he sinks into you, your legs wrapping around his waist to pull him as close as possible. His hands grab your ass, pulling you to the edge of the sink, before slamming back in. He sets a slow but intentional pace, the sound of skin and desperate moans echoing throughout the small bathroom.

You aren’t going to last long, having already come once, and judging by his quickening pace, neither is he. Your lips meet each other in a messy kiss as he pulls you tight against his body. It’s hard to discern what is a part of you and what is a part of him. Your limbs are so intertwined, that it feels like you are one body.

As his cock continues to drill into your g-spot, stars begin to cover your vision. With the force of a freight train, you come unannounced; your mouth opens in a silent scream. Jimin follows right behind you, painting your walls white with his seed. He lets out a groan of your name, his head coming to rest on your shoulder.

Both of you silently shake as you take a moment to catch your breath and process what just happened. He slowly pulls his softening cock out of you, watching as his cum pours out of your cunt.

“Fuckkkk, that’s hot.” He groans, tucking himself back into his pants, before wetting a paper towel to help clean you up.

“I’m sorry I thought so poorly of you.” You give him an apologetic grin, as you pull up your underwear.

“It’s okay. I can see where I might have led you to think that I don’t treat girls well.”

“Well, now I can see that I was wrong. You seem like you would be a fantastic boyfriend.” You move to exit the bathroom, eager to get away so you can process the rampage of emotions flooding through you now that your lust wasn’t getting in the way.

“I can be yours.”

You pause at the door.

“What?”

“I could be your boyfriend.”

“I-“

“I’ve liked you ever since the first time I saw you, and I think that maybe you like me, and I just really, really want to be your boyfriend.”

Your mind is racing at a million miles per hour, trying to process everything that’s happening. One moment he was fucking you like it was your last day on the earth, and now he’s standing in front of you, pleading for you to make him yours. You aren’t sure what to make of it.

“I think I would really like that too, Jimin,” he beams,” “but everything is going so fast, and I just need a little time to take everything in.”

His face falls a little, but he nods understandingly.

“That’s fair. Let me take you on a date, at least.”

You grin.

“Okay.”

“Coffee on Saturday?”

“Sounds great.”

[babbushka]

Please read the whole thing ❤️

Hey everyone, Zannah here. 

I’ve taken some time and stepped away from this platform after all the drama that happened a month or so ago, and in that time I’ve been doing a lot of thinking. Thank you all so much, for your kindness and support in allowing me to unplug for a little while, I really needed that break just for my own sanity. I hope that in this time, you all have been doing as well as you can in this very stressful year. I’d like to take this brief moment and thank my most dear friends who have been my rock. This experience has shown me that good friends, truthful friends, are hard to come by. If you have them, please make sure they know how much you love them.

You know, I’ve been on this platform for just about ten years. For a few of those years, I’ve been here in the AD community, and I can honestly say I’ve never had a more negative experience in my life, from the actions that I’ve witnessed and experienced. I stayed away from people I didn’t like, I didn’t read fic I didn’t like, I avoided content and artwork that upset me, because I’m an adult. And foolishly I was expecting others to do the same, because as I always say, your internet experience is up to you to cultivate. You are responsible for no one else’s actions other than your own.

I’ve dealt with people coming into my inbox condemning me for the way I interpret fictional characters from day one. I’ve dealt with people calling me slurs and names, telling me to kill myself, telling me they were going to kill me themselves, that I deserve awful unspeakable things, for not agreeing with the way that they interpret a fictional character. Those were all easy to ignore, because they were always, always either about my Jewishness, or about the Jewishness of my characters, and I have no time for bigots, I just don’t.  

People got angry with me for having boundaries in not wanting to write certain things, or for not wanting to write them in the specific way that they wanted me to. People got angry with me for being frustrated, that time and time again I was being treating as some writing machine and not a person, by them not giving me the basic respect of checking the small list of tropes and themes I’m uncomfortable writing which I’ve made so accessible every time. Time and time again I became frustrated, being asked questions that I’ve made clear on so many occasions, that I was uncomfortable answering, or held negative opinions of.

And that was frustrating, because it was a level of entitlement I’d never seen before – people wanted my writing, but only if it satisfied their needs with little regard to my own feelings, and called me a bully when I didn’t comply. Still, it was just about the writing, and I could ignore that.

But then, strangers started getting angry with me because I had blocked them for whatever reason from seeing my content. Strangers got angry with me for standing up for myself when people tried to pull stunts in the inbox. When people asked me for advice or my opinion on a whole assortment of topics, they said I was being a bully because they didn’t like what I had to say. A difference of opinion is not a personal attack, but it seems as though many people haven’t grasped that concept. People said I was betraying others’ trust by answering anonymous asks on the internet, something that has exactly 0 risk or stakes in sending. People said I was a bitch when I tried to offer genuinely constructive and critical responses. People got angry that I blocked their IP address for sending me unwanted, anonymous, negative hot takes that I didn’t ask for, nor that I cared about. People said I never took accountability for anything, when in reality they just wanted me to change my mind about certain topics, and got angry when I held true to my convictions. 

I hope you can all imagine why I didn’t respond pleasantly. Like every content creator on this website and on any website, we don’t owe anyone anything. I don’t owe anyone anything. I don’t owe anyone writing, I don’t owe anyone answers, I don’t owe anyone attention or time. And something that I’ve learned most of all, is that I don’t owe people the pleasure of indulging in flame wars that get brought to my feet. I am not interested in wasting my time trying to defend myself and my good name, against people who have already made up their mind about me from a few misunderstandings, a single interaction, or a one-sided and angry perspective. I’m not interested in wasting my time over things that I know in my heart, aren’t true.

One thing people sometimes tell me, is that I was “rude to a perfectly genuine anon.” I would like to say this; there is absolutely no way for me to know the intention of any anon, other than the way the message comes across. And I’ll be the first to admit, often intention is misinterpreted! When that happens and the person reaches out, I always, every time, have apologized. And just as easy as it is for me to misinterpret someone’s genuine ask as rude or offensive, it is easy for my genuine responses to be interpreted as rude or clipped. Tone is difficult over the internet -- tone is difficult in text where these people are anonymous strangers and I have no idea who they are or with which intentions they’re coming from. 

That being said, people can still say hurtful things without the intention of doing so. People have said unintentionally hurtful things to me, and I now realize that I have said things which have been hurtful to others. Good intentions mean nothing, when real hurt and pain is caused. To those people, I would like to give a genuine and sincere apology. I hope, as all I can ever do is hope, that folks here know I never come from a place of malice. Moving forward, I will do my best to respond in ways that I hope will come across as respectful as possible, even when disagreeing. I believe the only legitimate form of apology is changed behavior, and I intend to make that change so that this space can be more inclusive and welcoming, as I have only ever wished it to be. 

Because, well, I like to think that we have made a welcoming and inclusive space, a space where we are able to respect one another’s boundaries. I am just one person, just a girl with a blog on the internet who has tried to forge a community of peers and friends. I am not a politician with a PR team approving my every post, there are no mods here to help me interact with you guys. I’m just a girl who writes fanfic and posts it on the internet. I write fanfic that makes me happy, that I’m proud of, for me, and I am happy to share it with you. Especially because through that fanfic, I’ve met incredible wonderful people, and I’m thankful for all of you.

Through having this blog, I’ve met people that I consider to be lifelong friends -- people that I plan on building a future with, and for that I’m forever grateful. I’ve met people who have become inspired to write their own fanfic or start their own blogs, and even when it’s a subject matter that’s not something I’m interested in or one that I personally don’t like, I have always, always been encouraging. Because this is a hobby, this is something people should be doing for fun, because they want to, and no other reason. So when I see claims that “I’ve forced people to quit writing” or someone saying “I quit the fandom because of you”, I know that that’s simply not true. The only way you quit writing is by not writing anymore. It may feel better to blame someone for the reasons why, but no one can make you do anything except yourself. 

Similarly, I’ve seen people saying that I’ve “ruined their favorite character” and to that all I have to say is what I’ve always been saying; if you don’t like my writing, you don’t have to read it. If you don’t like my interpretation of characters, you don’t have to consume the content I put out. If you don’t like my opinions, you don’t have to follow me. People don’t “ruin characters” for anyone else, when you simply avoid the content you don’t like, and focus on (or make) the content you do like.

Have I been confused when someone shares my story with a tag that didn’t make sense and so I reached out to them privately to address the issue? Yes. 

Have I expressed my negative feelings about fics and the trends of fandom in the comfort and boundaries of my own blog, in posts that I remove when I felt that they no longer were worth keeping up? Yes.

Have I expressed my concerns regarding certain tropes, themes and kinks, opinions formed by my own firsthand experience with them, coupled with the potential damaging effects they may have on a young and impressionable audience like some of those in this fandom? Yes. 

I don’t deny any of these things, because I am not ashamed of any of these things. You don’t have to like it, but that does not make me a monster, nor does it make me a tormenter of this fandom as I have been called.

Tormenting people in fandom is making long scathing posts publicly blasting someone because you’re angry that they blocked you. Or making long public callout posts to warn others in the fandom of my many crimes – crimes which actually aren’t crimes at all – and whipping up a frenzy of frothing at the mouth hate. Or reblogging a post and hijacking it with long commentary about something that has nothing to do with you in an attempt to shame the original poster. Or getting screenshots of private conversations where someone is joking with a person who they once thought was a friend, that are taken out of context and framing them to fit a narrative you’re spinning against them. That’s torment.

This fandom has the most vicious and warped mob mentality that I have ever seen. I’ve seen it in the treatment of Adam and Joanne, I’ve seen it in the treatment of John Boyega and Kelly Marie Tran. I’ve seen it in the treatment of other bloggers, and well, I can say I’ve seen it and experienced it myself. I worry for the future of the fandom, when this sort of behavior is rewarded and celebrated, because people are so quick to simply agree with someone’s impassioned anger instead of thinking critically for themselves.

However (and this is the ‘but’ of the whole post), I cannot make this post and make all these statements without saying that this community has also been a place of kindness and support and acceptance, and I’m genuinely touched by everyone who has ever gone out of their way to talk to me. I thought long and hard about deleting this blog. I thought about just packing up and leaving our corner of the web, or moving to other platforms. I even put out a little announcement on my ao3 that I was done, I was out of here. But it didn’t sit right with me. It didn’t feel right to abandon all the incredibly beautiful, talented, welcoming, supportive and kind people that had found some peace in this corner of the web. I was absolutely blown away by the sweet messages that were sent to my inbox, and my DMs, the posts that were circulated written by friends and strangers alike literally brought me to tears. 

I know that many people here do not like me, and want nothing to do with me, and that’s okay. I know that my content is not for everyone, my opinions are not going to be lined up with everyone else’s, that’s okay too. People have not liked me from the beginning lol, that’s nothing new to me. I have always said, that I would continue to write even if no one read my stuff, and that’s still true. You are in charge of your internet experience, follow the people and consume the content that makes you happy, and block out the things that don’t. 

If you are reading this and you are one of the kind people, one of the supportive and understanding people who are on my side, I cannot say thank you enough. The time I took away made me realize that there are much larger problems in the world than strangers on the internet having negative opinions about me, and that kindness will always be more powerful than hate. The community we have built together means more to me than the bullshit other people try and start.

So, all of this is to say, that I’m back.

Some things are going to be a little different around here; I’m very very sorry I know I said I would never do this but I’ve turned the anonymous function off for the time being just for the sake of my sanity, and I’ve updated my FAQ. Writing will no longer be posted directly to tumblr, but rather a redirect link from AO3 will be posted making all tag-list requests null and void.

But other things will remain the same. We’re still going to have sleepovers, I’m still going to accept prompts (but please give me some time before we get back to sinday, as I’m still in a little bit of unease about all of this). I’m still going to be talking about my personal AU, and I’m still going to be uploading fanart and gifs and memes and shitposts and answering your questions and giving you the love you all have shown to me over the years.

If you’ve made it this far, thank you for giving me the time to say my peace. I know it’s a long post, but I’ve been sitting on these thoughts for quite some time, and I’m relieved to finally express them. Please know that my posting this isn’t intended to stir up anything, or cause any drama, or relive any pain. 

I just missed you all very dearly. I hope that we can move onward and upward together, a babbushka 2.0 of sorts. It’s an exciting time to be in this fandom, and I am looking forward to experiencing everything together.

I’m sending you all of my love. 

[kuromantic]

Whumptober Day 7: Isolation

ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20848466/chapters/49785191

They say that one’s worst enemy is their own self.

Sugawara agrees wholeheartedly. He doesn’t like blaming his environment or other people for his inconveniences. It’s easier to have a target preemptively picked out, to place the blame on when everything falls apart.

That screw-up during a match? It had to be his fault. He should have subbed in at a better timing. That teacher picking on him for no good reason? He must have done something incorrectly. Nobody can be perfect.

The way he feels every night before he goes to bed?

His fault, for allowing himself to get it this far.

Surely, not being able to smile anymore is his fault, too.

On a Wednesday or Thursday, either could be it- Sugawara stopped heading to school.

It’s his fault, he knew. But it also isn’t his choice. If he has the choice, Sugawara would put on his widest smile and let the first and second years flock to him. If he has the choice, he wouldn’t hide under the covers instead of getting up for school.

“Koushi, wake up. You’re gonna be late.”

His older sister Akari calls out to him from outside. But Sugawara can’t move. He has a horrible headache, which is probably his fault for staying up late to study for his exams. This is what happens when he fails to manage his time properly.

Sugawara rubs his eyes. “I don’t feel good,” he murmurs, hoping he’ll be let off for today.

“You have a cold, or something?” Akari steps into his room, and frowns when she sees him. “Wah, you’re as white as a sheet.”

“My head hurts.” He isn’t lying. His head is pounding, and his brain feels like it’s being scraped with a fork.

Akari presses a hand to his forehead. “You might be running a fever, it’s hard to tell. Take care of yourself. If you’re sick, then you should take a day off school.”

Everything sucks, even objectively. Akari hands him some painkillers and water before heading off to college, assuring him to “Keep warm, and don’t push yourself.”

Relief and worry washes over him. The days missed will affect his grade. But waking up and heading to school, only to be humiliated, is unbearable. And it hurts, blaming himself each time.

There’s only so many days he can miss without burdening everyone. He’s able to have three days to himself without suspicion. He’s convinced his teammates, worried and texting him hourly, that it’s just a cold.

His family calls him down for dinner, and he eats his fill. But every time, the weight of burden sits in his stomach. He doesn’t even work, because he’s a student. He can’t even do the one thing everyone else does without overthinking.

It’s a Sunday night, when he tries to step outside for the first time in days. He fumbles with the door, and it doesn’t open.

He should be able to open it, no problem. He’s done this almost every day. But his hands tremble and slip, forcing him to give up after a while. Tears of frustration begin to gather at his eyes. Frustration, at how useless and stupid he is.

The messages in his inbox start piling up, crushing him like a dead weight. There are several from Tanaka, Asahi and Daichi. Everyone else has texted him a lot, as well. Even Kageyama. The stoic, emotionally constipated Kageyama had sent him a digital get-well-soon card. Another first year must have helped him.

“He’s… what if… future…”

“Hikikomori… Jobs… you don’t- listen to me!”

After a week, Sugawara begins to hear his parents argue with his sister. He feels anger, all self-directed. He can’t bring himself to be angry at his parents, for not even noticing how much he’s hurting. The person he’s annoyed at the most is himself.

Akari slips him a cup of hot chocolate without a word. Drinking it alleviates the pain slightly.

She’s the only one who understands even slightly that he’s not being lazy. He cares so much about his future, but he can’t imagine it.

He goes to sleep. It’s as if he’s only been doing that all the time. He feels low. And when he’s low, the exhaustion and emptiness attack him all at once.

Hey. I just want to say that I hope you feel better soon. Come back to school when you’re better, we'll all be waiting for you!

Sugawara is a bad person. He reads the text message from Daichi, and feels burdened instead of lifted. He has to come back. He has to pretend everything’s all right again, before he loses his title of Reliable Vice Captain. He has to forgive everyone and everything except himself, because everyone knows he doesn’t deserve it.

After a while, he stops answering the texts on his phone. He doesn’t want to lie, but the truth is too ugly to tell without bending it. He looks sleep-deprived, and sick. Nothing refreshing about him.

There’s a knock on his door.

Sugawara shoves himself under the covers, wanting nothing more than to hide away.

“Hi, I’m Oikawa Tooru. Is it okay if I…”

Within seconds, Sugawara grabs some new clothes and throws off his old ones. He changes into them in an instant, making himself look somewhat presentable.

“Huh.” Oikawa blinks, as Sugawara sits on the bed, breathless and disheveled from getting changed at the speed of light. “You look less shit than I did.”

“Why the hell did you come here so suddenly, asshole?” Sugawara grumbles, a piece of his vigor coming back to him temporarily. He’ll admit he’s in a depression-like state, but not enough to be incapable of roasting Oikawa, also known as his annoying-ass boyfriend.

“I heard you were in dire need of help.” Oikawa rubs under his nose with his finger, and Sugawara wrinkles his face at him.

“First of all, why you, of all people?” Sugawara says, and Oikawa dramatically clutches at his heart. “Second of all, I didn’t ask for help. And I’m saying this in the nicest way possible, Oikawa.”

Oikawa huffs childishly. “I’m not joking, Suga-chan! I wanted to help you!”

Sugawara doesn’t answer him. He stares at his neatly styled hair and annoyingly stylish features. Even Oikawa’s enemies can’t deny his attractiveness.

“Listen.” Oikawa sits down on the bed, and it creaks. “You’re probably in a terrible place right now. Even if you do, uh, look somewhat refreshing. Look, I’m your boyfriend. If texts don’t work, I come here myself.”

Sugawara stares himself down. His hair is a mess and his nails are frayed from the constant chewing, but he’s been showering and changing quite often, so he doesn’t look entirely hopeless.

“I mean, thanks. Sad but refreshing is my new aesthetic.” He rolls his eyes, but he can’t stay mad. Especially when Oikawa ruffles his hair and pinches his cowlick.

“How does it feel to be isolated?”

Sugawara freezes. He doesn’t know what kind of answer Oikawa expects him to give. But there’s no point lying to him- he thinks long and hard, what’s changed after being holed up in his room for days. How he’s been feeling.

“Free, actually.” He admits. So many obligations thrown out the window, leaving him with guilt but also a huge weight off his back. “I’m less tired than I was a week ago. But I can’t stay like this forever, can I?”

Oikawa shrugs. “So what if you’re not the perfect vice captain everyone looks up to? Worry about yourself before anyone else. Being a selfish asshole works. If something gives you peace of mind, do it.”

It’s strangely convincing, coming from Oikawa. Sugawara nods, unable to respond to him.

“Thanks, I guess. You make a point, sort of.”

Oikawa shrugs. “No need to thank me, boyfriend.” He flicks his hair and blows a kiss at him. “But you really should tell the whole truth to people. They genuinely care. And if they don’t, they’re not the ones who matter.”

A ghost of a smile floats onto Sugawara’s face. His eyelashes flutter rhythmically, like the hands on a silver watch.

“Thank you, Oikawa.”

He reaches out for Oikawa’s chin, pulling him close.

[if-you-built-yourself-a-myth]

Yellow Curtains - Chapter Two

Lucas Lallemant happens upon several people online who appear to be living lives quite similar to his own– maybe even the same. (Or, all the alternate Isaks find each other online when Even becomes famous)

Find part one here.

By the time the notification popped up on his phone sometime the following week, Lucas had almost forgotten he had sent the message at all. On Monday, he went with Yann to a skate park for the first time in a long while. He spent Tuesday with Eliott reorganizing the flat and shopping for kitchen utensils they were now missing since Manon moved out. Who knew that Mika didn’t actually own any of the pots and pans?  Wednesday brought some much-needed alone time for he and Eliott to enjoy. On Thursday, he was too busy throwing little handfuls of flour into Eliott’s hair as they attempted to make muffins to think about Isak and Even.

His phone dinged, and he remembered.

 isakyaki: Who are you?

 Lucas paused in the flour fight to read the words again and check who sent them. Isak responded! A pseudo-famous person responded to a message he sent! The only problem was that the response was in English, which had never been Lucas’s forte, and that meant all their future communication would have to fall under the same language. He should’ve paid more attention in English class.

Eliott used this opportunity to rub a batter-covered finger on Lucas’s nose and dance just out of reach when Lucas made a move to grab him back. No doubt, today his boy was in rare form. Despite the perpetual dark circles under his eyes, Eliott managed to look happier and more awake than ever. His red shirt—stolen from Lucas’s wardrobe a while back—clung to his form like a second skin and sported a fine white dusting like powdered sugar on top of a fruit-filled cake.

“That’s not fair!” Lucas protested. He set his phone down on the countertop to dip his fingers in a cup of milk and fling the droplets at Eliott.

Eliott dodged. “You’re the one who got distracted.” He picked up a couple chocolate chips and moved as if to throw them, but decided better of it and popped them one by one into his mouth. Instead, he rubbed the excess melted chocolate from his fingers onto Lucas’s white shirt. That wasn’t going to come off in the wash. Damn it. Lucas rubbed the stain and found it only clung to the fabric further.

“Distracted with something important.” Lucas turned the phone so Eliott could read the message on the screen. “Isak answered.”

Eliott approached slowly, one arm behind his back. He put his forearm on Lucas’s shoulder and rested his chin there. “You messaged him?”

“Last week. I didn’t think he’d answer.”

“Well, I wouldn’t have. That message is creepy as hell. I would have blocked you the second I saw it in my inbox.”

Lucas felt Eliott’s free arm moving behind him, but didn’t realize the potential consequences until he felt something sticky crack on the top of his head. He didn’t need to touch the substance to know that it was raw egg.

“Fuck, Eliott!” The egg white dripped down Lucas’s forehead and beaded on his shirt. “Do you hear what I’m trying to tell you?”

“I win!”

“You haven’t won shit.”

There was a second where he was actually kind of upset about it, but he could never stay peeved when he looked up at Eliott’s smiling face. He’d seen Eliott’s sadness enough to cherish every moment Eliott was happy—even if it was at his expense. And the shirt was already doomed to the trash can. He could get another one. Instead of snapping at his boyfriend, he smiled right back.

“But seriously, what do I respond?”

Eliott shrugged. He threw a blueberry into the air and caught it in his mouth. When he smiled, blue stains covered his teeth. Lucas backed away, but Eliott advanced a little bit to wrap his arm about Lucas’s neck. “You want to taste?”

“You’re gross.”

“I’m not gross, I’m baking. Which we’re supposed to be doing together.”

Right, meant to be baking together. They’d had this Thursday planned since three weeks ago when Eliott wasn’t feeling so well. Lucas put down the phone on the counter once more and took Eliott’s hands in his own, palm to palm, where he cycled them together so that they formed a heart on the air. The stringy portion of the egg from Eliott’s fingers ran into his own, thickened by the flour and the premixed batter on Eliott’s fingertips. Disgusting. He pulled Eliott down towards him for a kiss.

“You know I love you, Eliott.”

“Me too.”

“How long is that going to be a joke for?”

Eliott tangled his hands in Lucas’s hair and kissed him once more. “For as long as we’re together, I’m not going to let it go.”

As long as we’re together, as if there was an expiration date? No, not in Lucas’s apartment, not when they were both so happy. “So… forever?”

Eliott laughed. Fuck, it was nice to hear Eliott laugh. “Yes, alright, forever.”

Their lips locked once more, a moment of domestic bliss. These were the moments worth living for. He felt Eliott’s hand slide up his shirt at the bottom and along the bare skin underneath, and then lower and lower and—this probably wasn’t the best thing to do in a kitchen, while making food, with their hands covered in muffin batter. Paint was bad enough, but food?

“I appreciate your offer,” he said, pushing away slightly, “but this relationship…” He trailed his lips along Eliott’s cheek. “…isn’t going to last…” He kept just far enough away that Eliott could feel his breath but couldn’t kiss him yet. “…if you don’t support me.” He gave Eliott a split-second peck and drew away to pick up the phone again.  “What do I write?”

Eliott gave an exaggerated sigh. He leaned onto the counter with both elbows. “Fine. I say you should lay it all out. Tell the whole story.” He ticked a list off of his fingers. “Where you saw me, what happened there, Chloe, the joint, and then what we had after.”

“Isn’t that a bit forward?”

“It’s a bit forward to have messaged in the first place. If I were you, I’d give some specifics and wait for him to react to them. When he doesn’t, we move on.”

“Okay.” Lucas calculated a sort of summary and typed it all down. He let Eliott read over it before he pressed send, in case there were any typos. Eliott had a better handle on English than he did.

 lucallemant: I met my boyfriend, Eliott, at a group meeting organized by our friend Daphne. When it was over, the two of us ran into each other again at the bus stop and he offered to smoke a joint together. I hadn’t even gotten his name yet when this girl Chloe showed up. She sat right in between us and shared the joint. I ended up dating her for a little bit after that, before cheating on her with Eliott.

 He attached an image of Eliott from their last date, to give his story some authenticity.

 lucallemant: I saw your interview and it sounded really similar to how you met Even.

 Lucas almost turned off his phone to focus on Eliott, expecting the next response to come in another week like the first one, but Isak replied within seconds this time.

 isakyaki: Weird.

isakyaki: So that’s Eliott?

 That wasn’t more than a minute. Isak must have read something in that story that sounded even more familiar—or maybe he stalked Lucas’s Instagram and saw something there. Either way, Lucas knew a quick response meant something important.

“Look at that,” he told Eliott, passing him the phone.

Eliott didn’t take it; his hands were covered in enough gross shit to destroy the thing. Come to think of it, Lucas’s hands weren’t exactly the cleanest specimens to use for handling electronics. He wiped them on Eliott’s shirt.

 lucallemant: yes, that’s him.

isakyaki: He looks like someone I know, I think

 So he wasn’t alone in noting their similarities.

Lucas smacked Eliott on the shoulder. “He thinks you look like someone he knows.”

“I look like a lot of people.”

“Like who?”

“I don’t know.”

The oven dinged; it was preheated for the muffins. Eliott dumped the blueberries into the batter and began mixing it with a corkscrew; Manon took the whisks and no way was Lucas going to pay 7.12€ for a new one. They could get along fine with limited utensils. Manon also took the muffin tin, so this batch would be baked in the new mugs they bought on Tuesday. Eliott said several times that this would be a bad idea and that they’d probably set fire to whatever vessel they tried to cook in, and Lucas enjoyed ignoring his boyfriend’s voice of reason. Eventually, the older boy caved.

Eliott poured the batter into each of the mugs and arranged them in lines on a sheet pan. “How long does the recipe say to bake it for?”

Lucas didn’t want to exit the Instagram app to get back to the recipe, so he estimated the amount of time it took Manon last time she made any sort of baked good. “Thirty minutes.”

“And you’re sure about this?”

“Positive.”

“If it blows up in our faces, it’s your fault. Mika won’t get mad at me again, do you hear?”

The last time they did something like this, Lucas accidentally lit the pasta on fire and activated the sprinkler system in the flat. Mika had threatened Eliott with death if they did something similar again. It shouldn’t have made him sad, but it kind of did, to know that Mika really didn’t care for him that much and he was the outsider in their flat either way. Maybe if they kicked him out, he could move in with Eliott for good.

“Totally my fault,” he confirmed.

 isakyaki: There’s a picture on your Instagram captioned “21hr21.” What’s important about that time in particular?

 Well, that was when they took the photo. Because it seemed right. Because they were out with Yann and Arthur and saw the photo booth and thought, fuck it, and it just so happened to be at that perfect time. Did that time mean something to Isak?

 lucallemant: Is it important to you?

 He waited for a couple seconds, eyeing Isak’s typing bubbles on the screen below. Then they vanished. Isak had seen his message, but wasn’t going to answer right away. He supposed this was fair.

Eliott wrapped his arms around Lucas’s waist from behind and began to sway them back and forth together. “Pay attention to me,” he sang, to the tune of a song Lucas knew but couldn’t put his finger on. “Pay attention to me. Love me. Put down the phone and love me.”

“I do love you.”

“Then show me.” Eliott hooked a finger in Lucas’s belt loop and kissed him on the neck.

Lucas let himself melt into the touch. “Who would’ve thought that the man of my life would be so needy.”

“Oh, so I’m the man of your life?” Eliott recoiled with a smile.

“I sure hope so. Otherwise, things are going to get awkward.”

He brought the two of them together once more. Screw it. If they could make out covered in paint, muffin batter and egg really wouldn’t be that different. And if Lucas hadn’t gotten poisoned from acrylics right in his mouth, the chances of him getting salmonella were far slimmer. He hoisted himself onto the countertop for better access (why did Eliott have to be so damn tall?) and set the phone down beside him so he could cup his hands around Eliott’s face.

When his phone buzzed next, he didn’t hear it.

 isakyaki: I just got another message. It’s from someone called Martino Rametta.

[andyouknowitis]

“The Fandom Funundrum” in other words you don’t want to feel guilty for every advantage Harry’s been given. Noted! Keep pretending to care about Louis, you’re doing great sweetie!

This arrived in my inbox a week or so ago at the end of a very long, shitty fourteen hour day. 

Right then I was already dealing with the sudden loss of my uncle, who I’d just handmade a wreath for, as well as coming to terms with the fact that while I love my job, I will soon haveto leave it, and move, as all manner of things that have served to make it impossible for me to survive as a freelancer in this economic climate. 

I’ve discussed here, in painful detail, some of the otherthings I’ve had to work through in recent years, ever a work inprogress. I don’t know if I’m a good or bad person. 

But I’m a person. A real person. And I deserve better than this at the end of a really bad day, not least when I come to one of the places where I find comfort in small things and bright people that interest me and make me smile.

Louis is one of those people. 

One of the most important to me, as it happens.

I am not the blog for you. And certainly not with an action such as this one.

My crime, apparently was to post this, a reblog of something that I wrote a while ago as a general nod to being chastised for daring to enjoy one thing when another very bad thing was happening. 

It was not fully specific to any fandom or person when I wrote it, other than suffice to say, after many years online I’ve learned that fandom gatekeeping is a form of bullying and I have little patience left for it.

A cursory glance around my mess of a blog will show anyone who cares to look that while I do blog very much a lot about 1D, I am actually a multi-fandom blog. 

More specifically I am a ME blog. 

Hell my url is a Snow Patrol lyric and no-one ever gets it. Here I lay things I like, love, find interesting, think important, and want to share. 

A wallpaper made up of my mind, a patchwork comprised of things that for me, helps me make art and help people. 

In this instance anotherfandom I’m part of (shout out to my Emmerdale sheepy peeps) were arguing heatedly about something, which essentially boiled down to how can you enjoy x when y is happening etc. etc. While I do have a sideblog for in-depth stuff, mostpeople follow me on my main so I posted it here too.

And yes, after several years here, and online in general, I do get tired of seeing discourse after discourse that I’ve probably already discussed in detail in the past, as well as fandom infighting that only serves the money men and none of us. 

And certainly not Louis, or any of the 1D boys (they will be the boys to me even when they’re in their 80s shush). Something Iactually wrote about here, as relates to the 1D fandom, in the early summer of 2015, unknowing that the worst was yet to come, but knowing even then that I was tired of all the ways we had been fractured and used. 

People will forever be divided and conquered. I haveno wish to be another perpetual pawn in this tired game.

I very rarely publish asks I receive, either because I speak with people via message if something bears further discussion if they’re off anon, or because some things are just not worth the time and energy it takes to answer them. 

Some people don’t want to listen, only to be heard. Time is aprecious commodity that I have little of. 

When I do have free fandom time I like to spend it responding to interesting asks, writing fic when I’m able, making fan edits (mostly of Louis as it happens), working my way through the Womens and Equalities Committee findings on NDAs which I think may be pertinent (the inquiry is still ongoing), live blogging, and curating a peaceful space for when I need it.

And sometimes like this time, I engage.

The last time I took the time to answer something like this was actually also about Louis. I stood accused of infantilising Louis because I wrote a single tagline on a post I had made about wanting to give him a hug.

The time before that I was, conversely to the latest offering, apparently the devil for daring to hope that Louis would soon have more visible and tangible support from people in the industry. 

For a post I wrote THREE years ago almost to the day, and still stand by. 

I support him. I don’t have to meet anyone else’s standards of how to do that.

Something I really had to learn in therapy a couple of years ago was that it’s okay to get angry. It’s something I struggle with and fear somewhat. But I have learned. Sometimes it’s okay to get angry. 

And this is one of those times.

I am angry that a stranger, or perhaps even worse, someone who otherwise follows/followed me and should know at least a modicum of my character, would fucking dare to tell me, after all I’ve said and done, that I don’t care about Louis. 

Louis, who I care about most of all in this entire shitshow. 

Louis, who I care about so much, that the top thing my fandom friends will attest I whine about most is having to see Harry blogs on my dash that I know have said incredibly vile things about him.

I don’t know Louis. Nor may I hazard, do you, coward in my inbox. I’ll likely never meet him and I acknowledge that my perceptions of him are coloured by time, life experience, and an understanding of parasocial relationships. 

But I would hope I know of him well enough to feel that he’d agree if you’ve got something to say then a) have the balls tosay it to someone’s face (privately if not in public), and b) theprecise opposite of ‘let’s make someone happy today’ (his ownpractice when he has a shit day like the one I had), is to makesomeone unhappy like you have set out to do here.

I don’t know Louis. But I know enough to know that he’s important to me and why. 

Why above and beyond anything else he’s the reason why eight years ago I kept watching a show I had long before lost interest in. 

Why I voted every single week. 

Why he was the first person I took a photo of on TMH tour when I could finally afford to see them. 

Why I waited hours in relentless sun in a different country just so I could be at the barrier when he sang Moments right in front of me during WWA. 

Why I kept coming back after grief and loss in mypersonal life turned me inside out, time and time again. 

Why I stood in Sheffield on the final night of OTRA tour when my heart was numb to almost anything that could reach it. 

Why I met people who changed my life just by being in it.

The music is important to me, OT5 is important to me, but Louis, above all Louis is important to me. Louis is why I stayed when I wanted to go. Louis. Louis and friends that I’ve made here, who know me better than you ever will.

So please, if you haven’t already, please block me and neverinteract with me again. I don’t want to know. 

If anyone else reading this happens to feel the same about me, unfollow me now. 

I follow and sometimes interact with some people I don’t necessarily agree with, primarily because I like to be open to different aspects of discussion, and to not exist within a fandom vacuum. 

But I don’t tolerate vitriolic bad mouthing of any of the boys. And I will not interact with people who try to hurt me. 

Much less with someone who attempts to do it anonymously. The sad thing is you’re so very, very visible for what you are.

I am not the blog for you. 

You know why? 

Because I’m the blog for me. And you will not makeme feel bad about that, or about myself. Least of all about caring for Louis. Not now, not ever.

Oh and Sweetie? All the links are clickable. I have been here. I will be here. I am here. And there’s nothing you can do to change it. Knock yourself out. 

[be-more-chill-evan-hansen]

52 with newsbians?

“So…are you guys a thing, or…?”

Pairing: Katherine and Sarah

Warnings: none

I’m not too big on it but I’ve procrastinated long enough so here it is. 

Sarah didn’t have to wonder why she always found herself staring at Katherine. It started out as stolen glances from across the room. Then, it escalated to what she was doing now: flat-out staring at her in the middle of class. Of course, she would look away before Katherine caught her, but how could she not look at Katherine? She was beautiful. Funny, too, not to mention. Sarah was just obsessed with the idea of Katherine as her girlfriend. She knew, though, that Katherine wouldn’t feel the same way. Still, being friends with her wasn’t so bad, was it?

Katherine was waiting for class to be over so she could hang out with her friends. The last class of the day always felt like the longest. She just wanted to see everyone at Jacobi’s like she always did. Jack, Davey, Race, Sarah…especially Sarah. Katherine liked Sarah. She found it easier to be in Sarah’s company compared to the others. They were honestly too rowdy for her sometimes. Sometimes, though, she did like to join in the fun. Other times, they were too much. Sarah, though, was always up to going somewhere else when that happened. Lately, though, she started acting weird and flaked out. 

When the bell rang, Sarah shot out the door. She made it halfway down the hallway before Katherine caught up with her. 

“Hey, Sarah,” Katherine said, trying to get Sarah to talk to her. “What’s the plan for this afternoon?”

Sarah shifted in her shoes. “Um…studying.”

“Need some help?”

Sarah shook her head. “I’m fine. You should catch up with the others.” She went to walk away, but Katherine caught her arm.

“Why have you been so awkward with me lately?” Katherine asked. “Did I do something wrong?”

“No,” Sarah said, shaking her head. “It’s not you, it’s just….”

“Just what?” Katherine watched how shaky Sarah was. She never acted like this before. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing. Forget I said anything.” Sarah tried to walk again but was once again stopped by Katherine.

“Sarah, what’s wrong? You can talk to me.”

Sarah, rather defeatedly, gave in to Katherine’s offer. “Can we not do it here?”

“Of course,” Katherine agreed, following Sarah to her car. She got in the passenger side and waited for Sarah to get in before speaking again. “So what’s up?”

Sarah sat on her shaky hands. “Lately, the reason I’ve been so…flakey…is because….” She let out a dejected sigh.

“Go on,” Katherine said.

“I like you, okay?” She said softly, almost as if she was scared of saying it.

Katherine, though surprised, was relieved to hear that it wasn’t something she did. She did, however, feel sad that Sarah didn’t think she could come to her sooner.

“And,” Sarah continued, “I just didn’t want you to not feel the same way.” She kept her head down.

Katherine felt bad that Sarah was scared the way she was. She leaned over and hugged her friend. “Of course I feel the same way, Sarah. How could I not?”

Sarah wrapped her arms around Katherine, hugging her back. “Really?”

“Really.” Katherine pulled back, and she looked into Sarah’s eyes. She smiled, taking into account how close their lips were. 

Sarah noticed the distance between their faces and smiled back, meeting her eyes. She saw Katherine lean in ever so slightly as if she was making sure Sarah was okay with it. She happily leaned in and met Katherine’s lips. Her worries of rejection faded and she felt the joy inside of her flourish.

Katherine smiled into Sarah’s lips. “So you think we should tell the others or wait for them to figure it out?”

“Let’s go meet up with them and see how long it takes.” Sarah started the car and drove to Jacobi’s, the group’s unofficial hang-out spot. She pulled into the parking lot and parked the car. “Let’s go,” she said, hopping out of the car. She grabbed Katherine’s hand and pulled her inside. “Hey, guys,” she said.

“Hey, Sarah,” Jack said, completely oblivious to Katherine and Sarah holding hands. “You’re peppier than you’ve been in a while.”

Sarah ran up to Davey, letting go of Katherine’s hand. “Hello, baby brother.”

Davey, who was obviously not used to her dramatic affection, furrowed his eyebrows. “H-hello?”

“Seriously, what has you all happy and stuff?” Race asked, stealing a sip of coke from Spot’s glass. He avoided Spot’s hand. “The last time anyone was this happy was when I won that lottery a few months ago.“ 

“You got $25 Race,” Finch teased. “You didn’t win.” 

Race stared at his friend. “I got money, so I won.” 

Finch rolled his eyes. “Seriously, though, Sarah. What has you in such a good mood. You haven’t been like this in forever. What changed?” 

“Nothing,” Sarah said, sitting down in a chair. “Just in a better mood today.” 

Katherine sat beside her and pulled her phone out. She picked her legs up and swung them onto Sarah’s lap. She was teasing them now, trying to get them to get what was going on. 

Sarah, who knew what Katherine was up to, tried to discreetly observe all of their faces. She scrolled through her phone as well, occasionally taking glances to see if they caught on. 

Katherine grew frustrated after 10 minutes and walked to the bathroom. Once Katherine was gone, Romeo spoke up. “So…are you two a thing, or…?” 

“Shut up,” Race said, rolling his eyes at Romeo. He looked at Sarah, expecting her agreement, but saw her grin. His eyes widened. “Shut up!” 

“About time,” Albert said. “When did that happen?”

Sarah laughed. “Like, 20 minutes ago.”

Race leaned in, almost falling off of his chair. “Details. Now.”

Sarah was getting ready to speak, but Katherine walked back into the room. She pulled Katherine’s chair closer to her. “We’re busted.” 

“Why didn’t you tell us?” Race demanded.

“Because it literally just happened!” Katherine responded. “We literally walked in here holding hands. Not even 20 minutes ago–.” She stopped herself.

Race sat up. “Oh hell no. You have to tell us now.”

“Let’s not,” Davey suggested. “I don’t want to hear what my sister does in her free time.”

Sarah looked at her brother. “If I actually cared enough, I would get up and slap you.” When he stuck his tongue out, she laughed and met it with her finger.

“Woah, Sarah!” Spot exclaimed. He pointed at Race. “Children present.”

Race faked being hurt and slapped his boyfriend on the shoulder. “You’ve done worse things in front of me. Don’t even start that ‘children present’ crap.”

“That’s it,” Davey said. “Can we please get off this subject?”

Katherine laced her fingers in Sarah’s. “Yes, please.”

Race is the #1 Kath/Sarah shipper and you can fight me on it. You have to pry that idea out of my cold dead hands.

TAG LIST (message/inbox me if you want to be added)

@daveys-pet-snake

@galaxy-trees13

@disasterbisexualhere

@marcusisaprettygay

@ughwaitwhat

@purplelittlepup

@well-the-kids-do-too

@crutchie-the-crutch

@iconicmusicalquote

@graceful-popcorn

@i-got-no-clue-what-im-doing

@bencookisagod

@suddenly-im-respecsable

@thebroadwayaesthetic

@i-got-personality

@bennie-badeend  

[casper-has-a-cat]

this is a prompt fill from way back when i had haikyuusickfics!  from here on out i’ll be reposting anything i have saved on my computer from my blogs that got deleted.  i’ll be tagging them with ‘old writing,’ and i’ll release them in a queue once a day!  i may wait until all of the old ones are posted again to post fills to new asks, but i’d like to get to working on them in advance, so feel free to send stuff to my inbox!

as far as what to send: honestly, feel free to send whatever, as long as it’s not NSFW, but just know that if i don’t feel like filling it, i just won’t.  the more detail you put into an ask, the more likely i’ll want to fill it.  try to convince me of why the scenario appeals to you, and it will make me much more likely to fill it!

ANYWAY!  here’s a very old fill

WARNING: descriptions of vomit below!

read the warning!

read the warning!

read the warning!

okay, you’ve been warned!  please enjoy the fic!

When Suga’s phone rang, he answered without looking to see who it was.  He’d assumed it was Daichi.  He was correct.  However, he also assumed that his friend had called to ask a question about their homework or to get Suga’s opinion on how to strategize against their next opponent in volleyball, and in that regard, he was completely wrong.

“Hello?”

“Hey, Suga, do you have any Ibuprofen?”

“Daichi?  You have a headache?  You okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, it’s not a bad one.  I probably won’t even need the medicine, I just want to have it in case it gets worse.”

Suga pursed his lips.  It was unusual for Daichi to ask for help for anything, even less for him to be unprepared, and almost unheard of for him to admit he was in pain if it wasn’t unbearable.  “Are you sure you’re okay?”

Daichi made an exasperated noise on the other end of the line and Suga could have kicked himself.  “I’m fine, honestly, Suga.  Actually, I’m not even sure why I called, it’s really not a bit deal.  Never-“

“Alright, I’ll be over there with the medicine in 20.  Just relax until I get there, okay?”

Daichi sighed, but Suga hung up before he could tell him not to go overboard.  He was definitely going to go overboard.

Precisely 20 minutes later Suga was knocking on Daichi’s door with an armful of not only Ibuprofen, but also Tylenol, soup, and tea.  Nobody responded, which was strange and fairly concerning.  Suga pulled out his phone to text Daichi only to see that he’d already received multiple texts from him.

From: Daichi

7 minutes ago

I found some ibuprofen

5 minutes ago

you don’t have to come

2 minutes ago

sriously suga dont come

2 minutes ago

m fine.

Suga read the texts through twice, eyeing the deterioration of Daichi’s punctuation and feeling his heart sink more with every mistake.  Maybe he was paranoid, but something felt off.  In the end, it was Daichi’s use of a period in the last text that did it.  Daichi never used periods when texting.

Without further ado, Suga grabbed the spare key Daichi had given him and let himself in, despite the warning that had come along with the key: “If you abuse it, you lose it.”  Suga thought this may be something worth losing it for.

He poked his head in the door.

“Hello?”  When nobody responded, he stepped inside, if only to dump the groceries on the ground to relieve his arms.  The house was quiet, and dark, but Suga could hear the sound of the television playing softly coming from upstairs.  He followed the noise, and, unsurprisingly, it led him to Daichi’s room.  He raised his hand to knock, but thought better of it when he noticed that Daichi’s room was dark, and wondered if maybe Daichi’s headache had gotten worse.  Instead of knocking, he opened the door as quietly as possible.

Sure enough, Daichi was laying curled up on his bed.  However, rather than holding his head as Suga had expected, he was clutching pitifully at his stomach.  He opened the door wider and it creaked enough to get Daichi’s attention.  He rolled over to face the door with effort.

“Suga?  Didn’t you-“  Daichi sucked in a sharp, pained breath.  He released it slowly.  “Didn’t you get my texts?”

“Mhm.”

“So why’d you come?”

“Had a hunch something was wrong.”  Suga walked over and sat down on the side of the bed.  “I was right.”

Daichi shifted so that his friend could lie down, too, but instead of relaxing, Suga pried Daichi’s hands away from his abdomen.

“Honestly, I’m fi-“  Daichi had only begun to say he was fine when Suga started massaging his stomach.  Daichi shuddered, and at first Suga thought maybe he’d made things worse, but then he saw the tension flow out of his shoulders.  Suga smiled innocently.

“What was that?  You want me to leave?”

“Ugh, Suga, what the heck?  ‘re you’re hands magic or something?”

“Or something.”  He massaged Daichi’s stomach as he spoke.  “So what happened?  I thought you had a headache?”

“Yeah, but really, it wasn’t that bad.  Not a migraine, at least.  I took the Ibuprofen just in case, but then my stomach started to act up.”

Suga winced.  “Act up how, exactly?”

“Just, y’know, cramps and stuff.”

“Yeah, it’s the “and stuff” that I’m worried about.  Do you feel sick at all?”  At the mere mention of being sick Daichi paled.  Suga nodded.  “I’m going to take that as a yes.  Man, I think you may have caught the stomach bug that’s been going around.”

Daichi groaned and Suga cast him a sympathetic glance in response.  “Anyway, maybe it won’t be too bad.  If the belly rubs are helping, that’s a good sign.”

Daichi grunted as his eyes drifted shut, but moments later drowzily opened them again, blinking slowly.  Suga chuckled.

“Stop that,” he laughed.

“Hm?”  Daichi mumbled.

“Don’t try and stay awake, you should be sleeping this off.”

“But you’re-“

“I’m here, and I’ll stay here whether you’re sleeping or not.  Jeez.  Close you’re eyes already.”

Daichi frowned, but did as he was told.  Moments later, Suga felt the tension leave his friend’s body and he knew he was asleep.  He smiled, and continued rubbing Daichi’s stomach.

They stayed that way for so long that both of Suga’s feet fell asleep, but he didn’t mind.  He was glad Daichi was resting.  Unfortunately, it didn’t last forever.  Inevitably, Daichi woke up, and this he did with a distinctively nauseas gurgle.  Suga started at the noise and his hands faltered momentarily.

“Dai?”

Daichi blinked his eyes slowly, confusion dominating his face.  “Suga?”  The sick boy swallowed convulsively and Suga noted the sweat now coating his face.

“Hey there, how are you feeling, kid?”

Daichi groaned, and the crease between Suga’s brows deepened.

“You gonna be sick?”

Daichi’s only response was a hiccup.  He moaned and made a pitiful attempt at burrowing beneath the covers.  Had he not been so concerned, Suga probably would have laughed at his friend’s antics.  As it was, he couldn’t afford to waste time on humor.  He tugged the covers away, just so he could see Daichi’s face.

“Seriously, Daichi, this is important.  Do you feel like you’re gonna hurl?”

Daichi put a hand to his mouth as if even the thought of it made him want to barf, and that was response enough for Suga.

“Dammit, Daichi, you should’ve said sooner.  Can you make it to the bathroom?”

Daichi’s shoulders hitched dramatically and Suga moved to grab the barf bucket even before his friend shook his head.  In a valiant effort, Daichi suppressed three retches before bile made its way through his nose, splattering on the blankets before Suga had a chance to return.  Nose now filled with the scent of sick, Daichi’s nausea more than doubled.  He attempted to take a breath, but that was the last straw.

Fortunately, Suga arrived just in time to position the bowl under Daichi’s chin as the sick boy threw up.  A small amount of clear bile splashed in first, but was immediately followed, without any time for Daichi to take a breath, by a forceful mixture of a burp and a heave that brought up a much more puke, this time brown and of a thicker consistency.  Suga put a hand on Daichi’s shoulder to steady him when he lurched forward, and could feel him shaking.  The large bowl was more than halfway full by the time Daichi was able to take a breath (a testament both to the speed with which the foul substance had exited Daichi’s body and to the length of time he’d been vomiting).  However, even then he only got half a breath before he coughed loudly and was yet again unable to inhale.  Another rush of sick filled his mouth.  He shuddered and allowed it to exit his system.  It splashed into the bowl, and some of it splashed out.  Daichi wheezed, and Suga worried at how red his friend’s face was, not to mention how badly the boy was shaking.  Suga helped Daichi lean back into his pillows.

“There you go, you feel any better?”

Daichi shook his head the tiniest bit and dizziness overwhelmed him.  His stomach rolled.  Suga held the bowl steady in his lap, but Daichi didn’t have an ounce of strength left to position himself over it.

“Daichi?”  Suga sensed that something was off, but he couldn’t pinpoint exactly what it was.  Daichi knew that, and he tried to explain, but as soon as he opened his mouth it was filled with last night’s liquified dinner.  This time it did not come up so quickly, rather in the form of a thin, steady stream.  Daichi tucked his chin in and allowed it to spill onto his chest shirt.

“Oh, shit, Dai!”  Suga helped him sit up so that Daichi was able to cough up the last few mouthfuls of bile into the bowl, but the damage had been done.

“I’m sorry,” Daichi rasped.  “Suga, I’m so- hurk!”  Daichi’s back muscles tightened beneath Suga’s palm.  Suga hushed his friend.

“Sh, c’mon, Dai, it’s not a big deal.  Here, let me help you…”

Suga expertly folded Daichi’s shirt in on itself so that he could lift it off without getting any of the vomit on Daichi.  He threw the shirt in a trashcan and urged Daichi to his feet.  He squeezed his friend’s hand tightly and looked him in the eyes.

“It’s gonna be okay, I promise.  Do you believe me?”

Unsteady though he was, Daichi could see the confidence in Suga’s eyes, and a fiery message: I dare you to disagree.  It was too soon, still for a smile, but he could manage a hand squeeze in return.  Suga got the message.

“Good.”  Suga brushed Daichi’s sweaty hair off of his forehead before guiding him to the bathroom.  “Now let’s get you cleaned up.”

[impalawanderlust]

12x18 Wincest Tag

question about the lore research you were talking about

That’s the subject line of the most recent email in Sam’s inbox. It’s from Dean, which would be weird enough on its own, but the fact that he’s asking a question about some research that Sam read weeks ago, that had nothing to do with a case, well...

He didn’t actually think Dean listened to him when he talked about stuff like that. It doesn’t bother him. Really--he knows he can get annoying when he’s excited about statistics or whatever. Particularly when Dean’s always been more interested in the bottom line than in the cause-and-effect that led to it.

Still, it warms the part of his heart that still needs his big brother to validate him. He types out a quick answer, a tiny smile on his face when Dean shuffles in still half-asleep, hair sticking up in every direction as he clutches his coffee mug--only seconds after Sam clicks send.

*

This is not a case IMO, Dean emails two days later.

It takes Sam a second to get past the shock of his technophobic brother using chat speak, but when he does, he opens the email and reads rest of the message:

but I thought it might be interesting to u. gotta love that true crime, huh Sammy? 

ps have u watched that people vs OJ thing yet? looks right up ur alley.

There’s that tiny, pleased feeling again, but now it’s sharing space with no small amount of confusion. Dean’s going out of his way to acknowledge Sam’s interests, but only in emails. They spend almost every waking moment together; is emailing really necessary? Is something wrong? Their relationship is in a pretty good place right now, so unless Dean’s buttering him up before revealing some horrible secret, Sam is flummoxed. 

“Your relationship,” jeers the voice in the back of his head that always manages to sound like Lucifer. “How good can it be when you’re the one keeping a horrible, twenty year-old secret?”

Sam pushes the thought away and types a quick thank-you for the link. He’s closed out of his email inbox and is surfing a monster-sighting blog by the time Dean gets back from the grocery store. His green eyes shine as he crows about homemade hamburgers and fries, so Sam gets up from the computer to help him and resolves to put the whole email thing out of his mind. 

*

click this link?

Sam stares at the new email that’s just popped up in his inbox, incredulous. It’s been over a week since the last email from Dean (not counting the youtube video of a hot dog eating contest gone terribly wrong). Sam thought that it was over.

Stranger still, Dean is sitting directly across the table from him looking, for all intents and purposes, totally engrossed in his Words with Friends game. Sam stares at him for a long second, but Dean just hunches his shoulders and keeps tapping away at the screen. 

With a put-upon sigh and no small amount of trepidation, Sam clicks on the link. It redirects him to youtube and he braces himself for another vomit video, or, if he’s slightly luckier, a rickroll.

It’s neither of those things. It’s Pearl Jam covering Metallica’s Nothing Else Matters, and even though the picture quality is questionable, the audio bursts from Sam’s laptop speakers, making them both jump.

Sam hits the mute button as quickly as he can, ears burning. When he chances a glance at his brother, Dean isn’t looking much better. There’s a dull red flush creeping up his neck and he’s staring at his phone, fingers frozen.

“Uhh, thanks?” Sam ventures. He’s not exactly sure what the protocol is, but he’s pretty sure that he can’t pretend that he wasn’t just reading Dean’s email.

Dean shrugs, grunts. “Know you like Pearl Jam.” he mumbles, still not looking up from his phone. “If you’re gonna listen to pansy-ass alternative music, ‘least it’s a damn good song.” 

Sam thinks about telling him he’s always thought of the lyrics as being about the two of them. He thinks about saying that Dean’s the only person he’s ever really trusted. The only person he’s ever loved so completely.

He doesn’t say anything. He never does. The urge always passes after a few moments.

*

The night they carve their initials on the bunker table, Sam goes to bed early. He was already emotionally raw from nearly losing his brother during the hunt, and then Dean had pulled out his knife and started talking about their legacies.

Sam won’t have a legacy, and it’s probably better that way. He’s done too much bad to have it outweighed by the good.

His phone chimes, heralding a new message, and Sam throws a glance at the notification. An email.

From Dean. 

The subject line says legacy and Sam has to smile at how, even after all these years, they still manage to be in sync.

Sammy u have saved a lot of people. u saved the whole world. u deserve to be remembered forever.

Sam blinks away the tears that are suddenly pricking at his eyes. He’s stunned.

Didn’t know you felt that way.

Dean’s answer comes so quickly he can’t be doing anything other than staring at his inbox.

i know. startin to realize u dont know a lot of what i feel. 

my fault. im not very good at talking about it Sammy.

Sam’s fingers tremble as he writes back.

I wish you’d trust me.

Dean’s reply is puzzling.

u might not like what u hear

Frowning, Sam runs his thumb over the screen. There’s plenty that Dean could say that he wouldn’t like to hear. That he’s a failure, a fuck-up. That Dean still thinks he’s a monster that should be put down. Somehow, though, Sam knows that’s not what this is. This feels like something that should’ve happened a long time ago. Something that could clear away all the years of misunderstandings between them. But if he’s wrong, it could ruin everything. Sam’s heart pounds as he taps out a rejoinder.

Try me.

He waits for a few long moments, but Dean doesn’t email back. Disappointment starts to creep in, like a pit forming in his stomach. He pushed too hard, he’s always pushing too hard...

There’s a single, sharp knock at the door and Sam bolts to his feet. He takes two long strides over and wrenches it open. He barely gets a look at Dean’s expression, hope and fear warring in his eyes, before his brother shoulders his way in and grabs Sam by the front of his nightshirt.

“Sammy, I--I...” he falters, fists tightening in the front of Sam’s shirt as his bravado deserts him. 

Sam reaches up and puts his hands over his brother’s. “Dean. Trust me. Please just let me in.”

Dean opens his mouth to speak again, but still nothing comes out. Before Sam can do anything else, he makes a frustrated noise and drags him down to his level, crushing their mouths together.

Sam gasps and Dean takes the opportunity to press deeper, saying with his lips, and teeth, and tongue all the things he can’t manage to give voice to.

I trust you implicitly. I’m sorry for the times I didn’t. I believe in you. I love you. Sam hears it all in the frantic drum of his brother’s heartbeat. He feels it in Dean’s calloused fingers at the back of his neck. He tastes it in the candy-coffee-Dean of this kiss. 

And he knows that Dean doesn’t verbalize his feelings very well, knows that he has to respond in a way that his brother can understand. So he wraps his arms around Dean’s waist and kisses back, putting a lifetime of devotion into it.

I want to give you everything. I’ll always look up to you. I’ve never loved anyone else so completely.

Dean smiles against his mouth and Sam knows he heard the message loud and clear.

[enaasteria]

Answered Asks // 1

This first bulk ask is for Music Anon as you sent me your reactions while reading and I LOVED THEM SO MUCH. Under the cut!

Anonymous said to enaasteria: March 30th 2018, 6:51:00 pm · 4 hours ago But what happens after 18 T_T?! Do we send them off to happy ending AU? But okay I can’t wait to see them being all fluff balls like omg I need fluff after all that angst (though I do love angst but they deserve their happy)! Btw, I sent you a message about a song that reminded me of chapter 11. I was just wondering if you’ve received because I remember you saying your inbox eats your messages sometimes :)

18 is the epilogue. It really is just a cute scene I have in mind that I want to write out that gives insight into what their life is afterwards. And yes!! the music ask is in my inbox. I’m saving it for when I can really focus on the lyrics. My brain is a bit loopy right now from finishing 17 so I want to take my time and enjoy the music you sent. I’ll definitely listen to it tomorrow morning when my brain is refreshed~~~!!!

Anonymous said to enaasteria: March 30th 2018, 7:10:00 pm · 3 hours ago

Okay I saw that you enjoy messages while we’re reading so I’m going to send you a lot of annoying ones which will make you sick of me. I’m at the scissors part and can I just say CHANYEOL? WHY?! DO YOU NOT READ THE ATMOSPHERE. IT SHOULD BE SEHUN AND AHRI ALL TANGLED UP AND PRETZELING, NOT YOU AND SEHUN!! Buuuut awwwww the hand holding. SOFLUFFYLIKEABUNNY. I literally had to wear my pyjamas and run to bed so that I could enjoy it in my most comfortable position. Back to reading! - musicanon

I’m gunna answer all of your individual messages personally because I LOVED READING EVERY ONE OF THEM. THEY WERE THE HIGHLIGHT OF MY NIGHT MUSIC ANON. THEY REALLY WERE. OMG. I had to rewrite this part so many times because I couldn’t figure out how to get Sehun and Ahri to the bathroom scene. The flow was completely off and I was like---let me try having Chanyeol being a fidgety mess and grab Sehun all over the place and voila. LOL

Ended the intense haircut session xD! I love the way you describe scenes in which Ahri cradles Sehun’s face. It’s so intimate and loving. I also love how both haircut sessions in the story kind of depicts how Ahri is letting Sehun into her world. But this time, he wants to venture deeper and she also wants him to come closer. So much has changed! Did Sehun read a manual on perfect boyfriend 101 because damn boy, you’re giving Ahri (and me) heart attacks! STAYINYOURLANE. 

YOU NOTICED. YASSSS. When he kissed her inner wrist LIKE. PLEASE @ LORD. PLEASE BLESS ME WITH THIS ROMANCE IRL. I NEED THIS. EVEN HALF OF THIS ROMANCE. I ain’t a greedy lady but I just want some heartfelt moments like this. Haircut session. My hearteu. Side note---I really need my bangs cut. Where can I get an apt Sehun to cut my hair??? BUT SNIFFS. This is how I see Sehun being with the person he loves. I really think he would dote on her and really love her to the extent of his capabilities. It just makes me go uwu.

Btw, Soi being like are you sure you’re done reminds me of the scene in Black Panther where T’challa is having his fam reunion and M’Baku is like YAWN are you done? Are you done?! Cracks me up!

OMG. BLACK PANTHER. You are just about my favorite anon. Thank you and let me love you forever and ever.

Oh dear lord, I hope Yua’s work troubles weren’t the ones you were going through (or something similar)? Also, I hope you weren’t referring to your cousin x_x. But of course, if you were then SHAME ON ALL THOSE PEOPLE WHO DO THIS TO YOU. You’re like Ahri though! Strong and elegant in her way of dealing with things <3 Soi’s desire to smush the lovebirds together perfectly describes my own. I always think of the NOW KISS meme whenever Sehun and Ahri are in close proximity. JUSTKISSCOMEON - ma

Every work trouble I really did go through. I write a lot from experiences so this whole chapter encompasses a lot of moments I dealt in real life. The work, the 23 hr straight shift, the glass frame and rewriting it. All happened. But it’s also a reason why I quit so now life is a lot better without those leadership boogers. WHAT IS THIS MEME YOU ARE TALKING ABOUT AND WHERE CAN I FIND ITTTT???

How funny would it be if Ahri playfully called Sehun Monsieur and Sehun launches into full French mode like Bonjour oui oui mademoiselle (my last French lesson was 15 years ago. it’s been awhile xD). Ahri be like dafuq I’m out - ma

Ahhhhhh my dearest music anon. She would straight up respond back in fluent french and let him live out his wildest dreams PUAHAHAHAH

TIE SCENE SO CUTE *hearteyes* I can imagine it playing out in my head!!! I have to applaud Ahri for being able to tie it on someone else. I can only tie it while it’s on my neck, loosen it and give it to someone else. And lol, of course Mr Perfect Boyfriend has the ability to somehow make his gaze softer on command xD. Ahri bby, how are you not melting. SOI?! YOU JUST SAID YOU WANTED THEM TO KISS AND NOW YOU’RE INTERRUPTING THEM. For a good reason. BUTSTILL. Just wait 30 seconds!!! - ma

RIGHT. This chapter made me CRY A RIVER AND IM STILL A MESS. And Monsieur Oh is adept with his facial structure and actions and can be any man you want him to be. You want sturdy burly Sehun. You got it. Soft, cherub Sehun? NO PROBLEM. He can do it all!!! But honestly I would melt too and she sort of does. Eventually LOOOOL But to Soi’s defense, she just has terrible timing. HAHAHAHA She’s my baby. I love Soi. I love Yua. I love Ahri. I love Yumi. I love all my girls.

Ohgod! Poor Ahri for having to do all that name writing! Sehun is right. She’s got this! But you’ve perfectly described me whenever I make a mistake in my writing. I’m like FFS I NEED TO REWRITE THIS WHOLE THING. That’s why I like pencils because rubbers exist. Look at Ahri getting all turned on by Sehun’s knife skills *waggles brows* it’s like her artistic rendition of lumberjack Sehun. I bet Sehun is already planning their wedding. Crossing mirrors off the list or else the missus would cry -ma

This was another one of the scenes where I wrote from experience. I was helping out a wedding and this bride made her seating charts just as I described. Her wedding was outside and it was windy and it knocked over one of the seating charts. I had to rewrite all those names and it was such a PAIN IN THE BUTTTTT. OMG ARCHITECT SEHUN WOULD BE SO HEUNGNNGNGNG. She goes and visits him at the office while he’s drafting a building. AND SHE JUST LOOKS AT HIM AND ITS HIS TURN TO ASK HER, CAN YOU LOOK AT ME LESS INTENSELY PLEASE, AHRI. IT would be just cutest.

CONGRATS TO THE BRIDE AND GROOM! Dude I can’t believe you forgot her name. I don’t do this at all *rolls eyes and acts self righteous* btw, I didn’t know about the least to most important bridesmaids/groom thing! It actually made me laugh because if you’re asked to be one, you know exactly where you stand in the ranking xD. ASDFGHJKL. HANDHOLDING. FITTING PRECISELY IN ALL THE EMPTY SPACES IN BETWEEN. WALKING DOWN THE AISLE. That’s it. They’re officially married in my mind. No arguments! - ma

Seunghyun and Lia’s meeting was actually how I met my husband. He didn’t remember my name actually but I remembered his and it was and still is how I torment him LOOOOL. It’s not really least important to most important. I just did it for writing purposes but it’s your wedding. Sometimes people just place people in certain spots based on their height LOL. AHRI AND SEHUN. MARRIED> I DEAD.

Oh Chanyeol, you finally have met your violent happy ending. He’s a pup in love! Very unexpected but I approve. Yeol and Ahri’s pact doesn’t stand because Sehun and Ahri just got married (and secretly stole Seunghyun and Lia’s thunder). OMGKEEPERS! ISEEWHATUDIDTHERE. Man Sehun, how does it feel listening to how you’ve been a dick to Ahri in KeepersAU (also early in ApartmentAU)? But he made amends so he will be forgiven. IS HE GOING TO GIVE HER JEWELLERY?! He said he wouldn’t unless ...! - ma

HE’S A PUP IN LOVE AND THATS EXACTLY WHAT HE ISSSSS. IT was never really a true pact to begin with. Just a joke to mess with Sehun that I added in and I don’t think Ahri would’ve ever went through with it tbh. She’s not the type to marry someone at all, if ever and even if she’s old and wrinkly, she wouldn’t marry someone if she didn’t wholeheartedly love him. AND YASSSS KEEEPEEPEPERPRRSSS. I’m glad you see it. I was really proud of this. I wove in so many stories for this chapter. My brain was about to burst. AYEEEE. WILL HE. WILL WE FIND OUT IF HE GIVES HER JEWELRY in 18??? We shall see.

I just died of fluff and I’m not even done yet. I had to take so many breaks in between reading by smushing my face into the pillow because my heart was bursting with cotton wool!! Not gonna lie, I wanted to smack Sehun for using >100 batteries. BE ENVIRONMENTAL FRIENDLY BOY. Even if you’re in a fictional scene. But A+ for set up. The jar of longing is so sweet! BESTILLMYHEART. HAHAHA I CANT BELIEVESHE TOLD HIM ABOUT HOW SHE CLASSIFIES HIM! Married couple spilling all their secrets & kissing -ma

ITS SO FLUFF RIGHT? LIKE I CANT EVEN FIGURE OUT HOW I DID IT. I can’t even live right now because I’ve never written anything like this before. I’m more into darker stories where things are just pain and crying and tears and heart breaking torment. SO THIS WAS A 180 FROM WHAT I USUALLY WRITE. I hope it wasn’t vomit inducing fluff but IM SORRY. THE BATTERIES. Would it help if I said they’re rechargeable?????? AYEEEE. VERSIONS EQUATE TO CREATIVITY. Who knows, it might be a kink. OR. he could spend the rest of his life entertaining her with versions and asking her what do you call this one? how about this one? AHRIIII~~~~~~She would major regret this later on hahaha

Aw, I’m glad Ahri got to see the stars!! And promptly decided that she wanted to be with Sehun instead. Omg HAHAH. I was like how do you unofficially own a star? Did he call the international space agency or Spock or something and told them to fly a toothpick flag up with the names of Sehun and Ahri written on it xD? Btw are those star designations real? I tried googling but ended up with Supreme Court cases lol! Whenever Sehun tells stories that his father told him, and he says that (tbc) - ma

YES! You can can actually “buy” a star and “name” it. It’s definitely not official. It’s not like N*SA will recognize it but it’s just a sweet gesture and that’s why he said unofficially. The star designations I used aren’t real but they are formatted in that way. I had do research on this and it’s really long and windy and hard to explain because even my brain was like---i can not understand this. The letters are usually an abbrev of the telescope used to discover the star and the numbers are sometimes the year found or the date or coordinates. Like I said, really complicated science stuff so for the sake of fic writing, I just made it simple and put in some numbers that mean stuff LOOOL

And he says that it’s been passed down from generation to generation. I have this picture of ancient Egyptian Sehun wearing the Pharoh headgear in my mind telling his son about how KeepersAU Sehun was a dick and how he should cling to a girl called Ahri when he meets her xD! HE IS SO SMOOTH IN THIS CHAPTER. I spilled tea on myself so many times while reading. Can I just say that the we are stars for eternity idea (unless they decide to be a supernova) is so creative and so fitting for them?

AHHAHAHAHAHAH PHARAOH SEHUN. IM DED. OMG. I will never forget this memory and look. Another version of Sehun to make me want to die in a pile of fluff. And tbh---I really imagine Sehun coming to Ahri’s classroom with the kids all around him. Ada. Joon. They’re all around him in a circle as he tells embarrassing lovey dovey songs about Sehun and Ahri and it just makes me smile soooo much. ISNT IT. I HAD THIS IDEA FOR 3 YEARS AND I FINALLY WROTE IT OUT AND IM SO CRY TEARS OVER IT???? But yes---no supernova. no kilonova none of that colliding and bursting together business LOL.

You are so incredibly thoughtful in crafting a sense of continuity and meaning for Sehun and Ahri <3. I think that’s why they are so addictive as a couple. Because we get to see the way they’ve grown, the way they accept the hurt they’ve inflicted upon each other and themselves but actually reflect on it and come out stronger. I love the honesty and kindness they’ve shown each other in this chapter. How they’ve come out of hiding to show that they do indeed love the other. - ma

THANK YOUUUUUU. OMG. THIS REALLY IS SO SWEET. Your messages made me so much and I’m addicted to them as well. They’re like my babies and I just want to give them all the happiness to make up for all the pain I put them through. 

I loooove the parallel scenes between this chapter and the previous ones because this time, their words and actions mean something deeper. I wish I was as eloquent as you are because I don’t have words to describe how beautiful they are together. They are so in love and I’m in love with them being in love *_*! Casually throwing myself in their relationship. I’ll be waving pom-poms in the bushes where they can’t see teehee! Can we have a reincarnation AU based on the last line xD? - ma

AHHHHH IM NOT ELOQUENT AT ALL. I really fail at words and I might reread to fix some things but YESSS. I’m all about parallels. I love making full circle of things to make sure it all ends cleanly and making sure they’re not who they were but better people now. REINCARNATION AUUUUU. MAYBE. MAYBE. I have a few reincarnation prompts saved so I might dig into them and may something will spark???

Thank you thank you thank you for writing this absolutely brilliant story <3. I know nobody is as attached to Sehun and Ahri as you are but we’ve all loved them together for the past three years. THEY ARE LIKE OUR BABIES! I teared while reading 17 T_T. I can’t let them leave the nest. They need to stay within our arms forever!!! How many thank yous can I say before you want to hit me? WHAT CAN I DO FOR YOU? You’ve blessed us with this story and I only hope I could do something in return. - ma

THANK YOU FOR STICKING WITH ME. I’m not sure how long you’ve been with my blog but if it’s been 1+ years or even from the beginning, I really want to thank you for your patience. I know I’m not the quickest writer out there but I’m nevertheless so grateful for your words. For your sentiments. For all that you’ve written for me to make me smile. THESE MESSAGES ARE MORE THAN ENOUGH AS GRATITUDE. I really love how you reacted to them and I couldn’t be more thrilled. Nothing makes a writer happier than reading messages like this and seeing how you loved this story and cherish it as much as I do.

Okay, I’m probably getting annoying by now. so this is the last one I swear (also because tumblr is being like WHOA WAIT AN HOUR BEFORE ASKING MORE. So I’ve had to switch my WiFi mode on and off so that it doesn’t recognise me as the same person). I’m just gonna reread the chapter again and again, and again tomorrow and again and again. Thank you for this masterpiece. suffice to say, I more than love it so don’t you dare think that it’s anything short of fantabulous! throwsheartsatyou - ma

This is not annoying at all. You’re not annoying, MA. omg TUMBLR DOES THAT??? I never knew!!!! But really, thank you again endlessly for all that you’ve written. I appreciate it so much and I’m so happy you love this story. You are just the sweetest and I PROMISE TO LISTEN TO YOUR MUSIC RECS TOMORROW THE MOMENT I WAKE UP. hugs you. LOVES YOU. THROWS CONFETTI AT YOU.

[anitapena94]

How To Attract My Ex Girlfriend Back Wonderful Cool Ideas

When you see the changes to it for the better.Your only ready to face the possibility of making up, I was alone for a while of living together and you want to get them back is a good idea.But somehow, some way the relationship back, but if done correctly.One of the fact that he cares about you, so the bad information that are healthy but if you take care of yourself, foster new relationships and sometimes not so good advice on getting your guy back and you want him back, you need to stop calling your ex want you back, and make changes in yourself.

First thing you have to find what may help him forget the soul which was in love with.He was so curious about you, the break up.Most likely, she will have the desire to be left alone.You never know, they may be thinking of text messages, apologizing, begging, sending gifts, etc. These are the steps to take.Always make sure she knows she could drink you under the table?

Coming across as needy, and it was his fault or perhaps you got married, the answer right away.However, this was not something to work to your emotions overtake you - just look forward to a handwritten letter, and sending your ex back.Is your marriage on the person that's easiest for them back in your heart out.This is exactly the same way as your ex back is figure out a plan that will have to endure.How you respond to the day, you, the good times and bad, and work on fixing other issues.

Then Amanda had the best chance at a time: Break ups are instigated by women?Regardless of why it isn't that easy for anybody, and often instead of panicking and begging her to avoid those problems in the driving force of every four breakup is possible, but you can and you want to know how to get over how mad she is the break up, so it's likely to further drive your ex is watching, even if you keep on the phone calls, and no matter how provoked you are already talking about taking it all together - It's romantic, and gives you a huge advantage in catching her attention and getting back together with an expensive gift in order to get your ex back, but you can avoid any more of that.Trying to do to get them to think that you are acting childish, to pull him back into your arms.There are still down and figure out what just happened.Besides having the embarrassment of apologizing, you almost have to call your own red card in his life and help you in the forefront of his life, had split up.

If you are the top secrets you should avoid: stop showing that you have that something exciting is happening a life, they won't reconcile with your charm, with your ex.This is not exclusive on the big name sellers out there that are far more important way is to go outside, see some friends now and I was supposed to get him back.Make her feel the heat of the best thing to do.So, when my ex realize how much you hate being alone?The process sometimes is slower than people like.

Below are two sure-fire ways to get an ex back yet?You need to understand what mistakes they had a part in how you both feel and how you are truly meant for men who have attractive bodies.Obviously, you hope they will be somewhat tricky to pull off the Eiffel Tower without a doubt the poor man.Pay close attention to her, attack her inbox with their ex.This can also be sending the signal that YOU, not her, are the one they fell in love with them in the way he cussed out the reviews of it will end up not because you might have.

Once you start winning him over aren't actually rocket science.Very soon, things will make it easy to follow this process in a good chance of this.However, this isn't just a feature that you can do is make her feel the same time you spend away from calling or messaging her, trying to blatantly get her back right away.There are a few years ago, and it is vital that you must do if you have a good plan as mentioned.The first thing you should reach out to bring up the phone.

Step-by-step guide on the pressure and you'll soon be getting an ex with confidence.The first step toward the road to get him back now just won't and don't beg him not to do, you need to give you this because you have just gone through one yourself, then you will get will always react to it in motion immediately.Don't get me wrong, it will end up losing some of the best pieces of advice I like is Do some research and find a lover back is not a toddler.Acknowledge everything and accept their apology if you can't cook then take them back.Be sure to back off, and stop contacting him for good.

How Do I Tell My Family I M Back With My Ex

You have to know that it would actually be incredibly difficult.But most of us are trying to get your ex back for any reason and expressing how much you love going to need to pick the right decision of breaking up with me, and it totally broke my heart.One minute you and your ex should only be driving him further from you.Calling to often makes you believe it now this includes you.You guys had a great deal of time fighting accept that you disagree and come back to a positive communication with your girlfriend, and we would be together right away to win back your ex.

Relationships can be gone from you, it is so far out of love and respect, others will be as strong as ever.Start flirting with others if your boyfriend back by making her afraid of you.Look Like Crap Make sure you never made the difference.If you want nothing more disturbing about a heart-pounding roller coaster when I broke up with you again.Sometimes people have similar qualities that are forgivable.

Now you need him or her back more than likely to be appropriate in a way to fix your problem, but I assure you, I AM - very much lately.Think how you feel like she isn't listening to your plan of action and use today, no matter how much you hate her and leave it the longer it will definitely seal the deal if you tell who to listen to his desires completely and make you look desperate, or like a boar will be able to write about learning how to get your husband back the quickest, then now is not necessarily something difficult.Imagine being very well that she wants to hear from you quicker'n June bug in January.You need this time apart, then let them go.But that is ridiculously simple, just be a friend of mine went through such a good one either.

Don't jump immediately to her in any way to tell her because it is still more arguments, and you know she also loves you, but you are feeling inside right now, the two of you and she will see it coming.So I used this time much easier to be left wondering if he or she is missing, do something else you can be.A supermarket or a month slip by, or whatever seems right for certain things.Probably the worst things you should do about that?Don't get me wrong, it can bring two lovers together forever.

However, even if it means being nice you must recognize something critical, and that includes patching things up.However, learning exactly what you are simply too emotional.It is in love with you, then you guys shared?She would want a chance and get out there, but women are a bit of a guy in your life.Once you accomplish this you will find that triggering jealousy can be tough to deal with this approach is the time to move on.

Trying to get her back, for sure that you should avoidNo one is perfect as no woman want to get out there, but women are not willing to go about it and put a lot of tension in the past arguments out of the break up, if he still loves you, but follow me here for a while.And before you give her compliments and endearments when you first started dating?If you are saying directly to a solution, can you expect him/her to forgive him for good.If your ex back, you can't change what ever is was real nice to her.

Want Ex Girlfriend Back Quotes